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koolfrogz · 3 years

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Misconceptions Regarding MCC14

Recently there have been a load of misconceptions regarding many of the controversies that happened this MCC, especially on Twitter and Tiktok, so I thought I would make a giant post detailing these and why they are wrong so I can scroll through my dash in peace.

1. Hbomb purposely abused a glitch in HITW that got Illumina and Mefs banned from MCC on the practice server.

This one can easily be broken down into three components: 1. Misinformation about the glitch itself 2. Misinformation about the Mefs and Illumina incident 3. When does abusing a glitch count as cheating?

Firstly, the glitch Hbomb used is actually very common in HITW and has been around since the game was first introduced. The devs know about it and have not made any complaints about it because the usage of the glitch itself is heavily luck based (depending on the ping of the player) and does not guarantee a win to any player who does get it. Take for example PearlescentMoon who has used the glitch repeatedly throughout many competitions (i.e MCC 11), yet has not gained any significant advantage through it because, again, there is still an element of skill required to use it. This glitch is not only known by the devs, but has been used before in HITW. It is not something new that Hbomb exploited as a means of getting ahead.

Secondly, the Illumina and Mefs situation is not at all comparable to the Hbomb one. Illumina and Mefs were using a completely different glitch which did guarantee a win to the player because it allowed the player to afk on the platform and allow the blocks to pass through them. They were not banned for exploiting this glitch, but rather reprimanded by Scott and the devs for not reporting it to them sooner. Mefs and Illumina are still allowed in MCC and only didn’t compete this time because the teams had already been formed.

Finally, in regards to the idea of cheating itself when using such a glitch, the idea that what Hbomb did counts as cheating is absurd considering past MCCs and the various glitches which have been abused as well. I’ve seen a lot of people mention the infamous Wilbur Glitch and I think its a perfect example. The Wilbur Glitch is from the game Rocket Spleef which was not played this MCC but certainly will be in the future. The glitch involves the player becoming stuck in a block and seemingly floating in the air allowing them to basically secure a win without admin intervention. This glitch is much more OP than the glitch Hbomb used, and we have even seen admins purposefully try to kill players for using it (i.e Philza MCC11). However, even when players have purposefully attempted to get it (Wilbur, Phil, Quackity, etc.), I have never seen the fandom react so negatively as to accuse them of cheating. It is not fair to accuse Hbomb of cheating when he abuses a glitch which has been in the game for ages and not do the same with your favourite creators who do a much more busted glitch as well. Personally, I don’t consider either of these cheating, but that’s my opinion.

2. They removed Parkour Warrior because Dream was too good. That’s not fair.

Okay, this one is very simple as its just not true. This falls under the assumption that Dream was the only player to finish Parkour Warrior which is not true (PeteZahHutt completed the course twice and was the first to ever complete it in MCC 6). While the reason the Parkour Warrior map was destroyed in MCC 11 is said to be that EpicLandlord destroyed it because “he was annoyed at how good Dream was at it”, this is mainly a joke (think of the Ranboo being banned from MCC situation, while Ranboo isn’t in MCC there’s no actual beef and he’s not actually banned.) Secondly, if you weren’t around for Parkour Warrior when it was still in MCC, or have only ever seen Dream or Pete’s POV, you might not know, but Parkour Warrior was a miserable game mode (think Build Mart/Bingo but ten times worse because there was no chance to improve your placement other than just being good at Parkour). The game was 10 minutes of pure rage and frustration from competitors, which while entertaining at times, wasn’t the best for content when only two POVs in the entire competition were deemed watchable. This also wasn’t good for a competition because it meant that only two teams at most were progressing (and by a large amount) due to one player while the rest lagged behind. It gave the teams which had Pete and Dream a huge advantage and made the game unfun and unfair to everyone else, so they revamped the game (to Parkour Tag) to make it an even playing field where everyone had a chance to win (in the spirit of MCC).

3. Scott had an unfair advantage in the competition and should be removed from the Dev Team or the Participants List.

This one is slightly more nuanced and may not have a definitive answer. Yes, Scott does have a slight advantage due to being a part of the dev team in every MCC. However, this MCC was definitely an outlier in that fact. Scott has been known to share info and tips with his teammates in past MCCs, but it has not truly impacted their performance on a significant level because the players knew a majority of the information anyways (the game rules, maps, etc). This MCC was unfair because Scott had a bigger advantage than originally assumed (it doesn’t mean he did it with malicious intent, it just means there was a severe oversight when designing the maps and explaining the rules to players). Also, the idea that Scott was guaranteed a win because he was part of the Dev Team is ridiculous and untrue.

Scott has always been treated on the same level as any other player and has not been giving special privileges because he helped work on the tournament. Take for example MCC 8. Scott was teamed with Tommy, Philza, and Wilbur, and they were doing very well! Then came (wait for it), Ace Race. Scott experienced a glitch which allowed him to remain with his Elytra activated for half the course and allowed him to skip over multiple checkpoints and placed him in first. However, by skipping over these checkpoints the game corrected his placement and put him in last. This was seen as not fair at the time and the Red Rabbits did complain, to which Noxite responded that there was nothing they could do and Scott would just have to finish the round as normal. This glitch severely impacted the Red Rabbits standings and possibly led to them not being able to compete in Dodgebolt that MCC. Yet, Scott was never treated differently than any other player throughout the glitch despite being a part of the Dev Team.

For the next MCC, I certainly think that Scott should be allowed to play as normal. I truly believe this MCC was a fluke, and although I too felt a little salty seeing my favourite go from 2nd to 30th, I believe that it is not worth getting up in arms about it because at the end of the day there is a whole season of competitions where any team has a chance to win.

4. They should have restarted the round and allowed the participants to retry the map.

While I too would have loved to see a rematch for Ace Rae, I would like to say that I, and probably many of the people playing, knew that it wasn’t going to happen. Noxcrew is very strict about the way MCC is run, it’s why I think it works so well. However, this means that they will not budge on these rules even in the face of something such as this competition’s Ace Race debacle. In the entire time of MCC, Noxcrew have only once ever restarted a round. This was in MCC 7 during Battle Box after there were server issues causing extreme lag for everyone (and Wilbur and Magistrex blew up their own teammates). It was unlikely that they were going to restart the round due to the mistake, and honestly, it might’ve caused more trouble than good to reset the points and the entire round of Ace Race.

5. The Spirit of MCC

This last one is more of a general statement than a misconception, but I would like to say that I have seen a lot of newer fans confused and upset about this MCC’s outcome. However, I would like to remind everyone that at the end of the day MCC is a for-fun tournament which brings MCYTs of every background to compete and have fun. Yes, there is an element of competitiveness as it is a competition, but it goes against the very spirit of the competitions to be toxic and rude in spite of not winning or placing lower than you expected. At the end of the day, it is a MC tournament that has no monetary prize other than a golden coin. It is immature to slander, spread misinformation, or send death threats and harassment over such a tournament and I wish shame upon anyone who’s first reaction to not winning or their team not winning was to do such a thing. MCC is a brilliant tournament that has changed the game for how MC Competitions have been done, and it is disheartening to see the hard work Noxcrew and Scott have done be disrespected as such. I hope next MCC the fandom can come together and make this the lovely fandom event it once was.

#MCC #scott smajor #hbomb #dreamwastaken #mcyt #wilbur #tommyinnit #philza #quackity #sapnap #georgenotfound #tubbo #mcc 14

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squidpro-quo · 4 years

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For the prompt : Jaskier is kidnapped and used as leverage against Geralt (I'd be forever grateful if you did this op)

Thank you so much for this prompt! A perfect opportunity for angst and whump and hurt and comfort, i can only hope i fit it all in here. This was a load of fun!

Jaskier strained against the rope tying his hands together, reminded of another time when the same circumstances had led to his life changing—he’d argue for the better most of the time—and now it might just happen again, except the change to his life will be that it ends. His fingers are turning numb, with how long he’d been held in the stone room it’s no wonder, only a question of how much longer until they figure out that it was all for naught. Bribing the innkeep, getting the herbs necessary to drug him, the fortified hold they’d decided to hole up in? It was all too much effort for a lost cause, but he’d kept his mouth shut for once knowing that if he spoke a word of the futility of their plan, then they’d have no reason to keep him alive anymore.

The door creaked; the sound of the key scraping in the old lock had him struggling to scramble as far away from the door as possible, his body protesting every movement even as he knew it wouldn’t help. They’d made up their mind.

“How’s the little songbird now? Ready to sing a sweeter song?” The man that entered had a grin with the curve of a sickle, sharp and cutting, to offset the fact that his lisp would have undercut any threats made in anyone else’s mouth. The sharp whistle of his breath through the cracked crags of his teeth accompanied his heavy steps and Jaskier bit back a retort about his singing’s quality in favor of staving off the inevitable by just a few seconds.

“No refrain? I’d heard it was hard to shut you up, not the other way around. Guess some things just end up embellished into lies, don’t they?” The look in his grey eyes grew hard.

Jaskier knew what was coming, he might have found himself in trouble more times than he could count but he’d learned when to expect a punch by the set of a man’s shoulders. This time was no different. The blow caught him across the temple, leaving his ears ringing and the ache in his head redoubled after he’d just started to regain some peace from the pain. He slipped sideways down the wall, unable to catch himself when he couldn’t feel the stone beneath his fingers, to the hoarse laugh of the man he’d realized was the orchestrator of it all. Jaskier rested his forehead against the cool stone floor, hoping it would take away some of the pounding that he felt reverberating through his skull. Like metal clashing against metal, the clanging sounded deceptively close despite the fact that he knew it was only his tired mind playing tricks on him.

“Talk,” the man ordered, in a deceptively soft tone, forcing Jaskier to look up at him to read his lips and discern his meaning. “You can talk to that monster, but not to a human?”

“What do you want me to say?” Jaskier couldn’t hold his tongue any longer, though his own voice sounded muted and echoing inside his head. His fear had been a thin veneer before, but now it was being poked through with the usual thorns of irritation and the aching need to be glib. “That I haven’t seen him in months? That I don’t know where he is? That I doubt he knows, or really cares, where I am either? You didn’t understand it the last time I said it, but I guess the constant whistling can get in the way of listening comprehension.”

“The entire continent knows you’re companions, traveling together, dining together… sleeping together,” the man raised his eyebrows, before continuing, “You know him better than anyone.”

“Do I?” Jaskier swallowed, to get the dry taste of irony out of his mouth and to keep from retching at the way the world turned blurry before him. “If sleeping together was all it took, I’d have several dozen of those I’ve courted lining up at your doors. So I’d say you’re out of luck on that shaky limb of logic.”

It was a good joke, considering he’d likely die just from the surprise of Countess de Stael riding up so many months after leaving his poems as ash in her fireplace. Or Geralt, who last he’d seen was firmly in the arms of someone Geralt had risked his life for against all odds and against all wishes, her own included. Not that she’d seemed to mind at the end.

“Is that a note of pity I hear?”

“I can’t do many things, fight a murderous band of men for example, but I know when I’m not wanted. I don’t begrudge anyone that.” He didn’t, he loved freely and indiscriminately, pouring his affection into the world along with his quips and commentary as an inexhaustible resource. Because what better way to try and stay a memory in someone’s heart long after the flare of passion has gone cold. He couldn’t help it if Geralt had been a never-ending well for him to attempt to fill, not realizing how he’d fallen down into it in the process and the answer he’d been chasing had been merely his own deluded echo in return.

“He might not come for you now then—” Jaskier had a brief moment of hope at the contemplative look on the man’s face, the sliver of mercy amidst the cold calculation. “But he’ll surely come for your headless corpse. If your songs have even a fraction of truth, he’s the sort to be mad about that kind of thing.”

Cold ice slid down Jaskier’s spine, because the man was right. Geralt was nothing if not a righteous man, perhaps surly and grumpy to a fault, but he’d fight anyone that threatened the helpless, never mind that it happened to be Jaskier. He’d written songs about it after all, he’d know. Blood pounded in his ears, the sound seeming too loud in the confines of his terror and he could almost imagine the keep itself was resounding with it, the thump of his heartbeat bouncing through the walls in an irregular series of bangs.

The man snatched his attention back when he slid his axe free of the belt at his waist, hefting it for a better grip and leaning down to yank Jaskier upright.

“Wait! Wait, what if you just let me go? There’s a new idea, worth considering—”

“Don’t worry, if it really doesn’t matter who ends up dead as long as it’s someone he could’ve saved then we have an endless supply of who to use. As you’ve said, it doesn’t take anyone special,” the man said, rank breath wafting into Jaskier’s face, and he wished that wasn’t the last thing he’d ever hear.

Axe shining in the flickering light of the torch, the man shoved Jaskier into the right angle despite his best efforts to scrounge together enough strength to resist. The man lifted his arm, already evident that he wouldn’t be able to make it one clean cut and didn’t particularly care, and swung.

Jaskier had closed his eyes, content with the darkness if that’s all that was left of life anyway, and so the sound of wood breaking from close by and the short gurgle of a last breath was all he knew before there were hands on his face.

Calloused, rough, and warm, familiar from the many years and he leaned into them so quickly they were all that held him up. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know, but he did anyway because he needed to see, to remember the sight of Geralt leaning over him, engulfing him in his shadow and tracing the bruises on his face with a touch so gentle he could’ve sworn it was a dream.

“Jaskier,” just the rumbling timbre of Geralt’s voice was enough to make Jaskier realize that he’d been worried, chest heaving and sword bloodied from his rush through the keep. To him.

“Cutting it pretty close, no?” Jaskier snorted, relief making him lightheaded. Relief that he wasn’t dead, that Geralt was there. “Did you get it? He was about to cut my head off, that kind of death offers so many opportunities for pithy jokes. Would be a shame to waste it…”

“I came as fast as I could,” Geralt said, tone not plaintive in the slightest but desperate, as if he thought Jaskier was really doubting him. As if he hadn’t been doing just that not a few minutes ago.

Jaskier swallowed, this time to keep the words, all the damning and too honest words he wanted to bare before Geralt, down and keep what he’d been willing to carry to the grave with him just a while longer.

Before he could find anything to say, Geralt pulled him close, palms brushing over his ruined doublet and down to Jaskier’s deadened hands, enveloping his fingers in a grip he could’ve sworn was trembling just slightly. His other hand slipped into Jaskier’s hair, until he felt the spot last touched by the man lying dead at their feet.

Jaskier hadn’t meant to flinch but he saw the way Geralt’s eyes narrowed at the movement and tried to stand on his own to make up for the moment of weakness.

“In the area, were you? I don’t think you’ll get much coin for this job.” He wanted to ask, wanted to see if he was more trouble than he was worth but he didn’t want to hear the ugly answer.

“I was already searching for you, when I heard.” Geralt’s hand stayed on his back, just like when he’d carried him around in the djinn’s aftermath. “Last time I saw you, you were covered in your own blood, like now. You left… and I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

Jaskier stumbled, both from the way the room seemed to spin beneath his feet at the change in altitude as he got up and the fact that Geralt had followed him this time, sought him out and found him.

“I got into yet more trouble, as you can see. Nothing new there.” He rubbed his newly freed hands and grimaced at the red welts the ropes had left behind. He’d have to wear his longer-sleeved wardrobe to cover those up. He looked up to find Geralt’s gaze still raking over him, the furrow in his brow the one that always formed when he was considering something. “Did you need something?”

“You shouldn’t be alone.”

“W-what?” Jaskier stuttered. “What does that mean?”

“I’m trouble,” Geralt continued, looking like he was choosing his words carefully. “And you are too.”

“Thank you for the astute observations… Where are you going with this?”

“I already said it. That you shouldn’t be alone.”

Jaskier waited, but Geralt stared at him with the same set look on his face as when Roach gave him a neigh instead of a bump in the chest, unsure what to say. But words had always been Jaskier’s forte, even if he swallowed them down sometimes.

“Are you saying you think trouble loves company?”

Geralt nodded, and that was enough for Jaskier. He’d never be empty of what he poured into the world, and so when something spilled into him instead, he overflowed. Geralt’s empty well might just have a bucket of water inside it, and he’d managed to fish it out after all.

prompts open

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt #geraskier #dandelion #my writing #prompt response #i made up my own continuity after the djinn incident #because ep 6 can't have been the real start of his self doubt about traveling with geralt #ask tag

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zrtranscripts · 3 years

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Season 9, Mission 4: Out of the Past

Heist

[birds twitter]

AMELIA SPENS: Okay team, let's go over this one more time. General Bakari has sent Abel a distress call from a remote Tunisian base, Red Scorpion, which is probably home to red fungus and definitely home to one Ernest Van Ark.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, despite the fact that you, you know, um, what was it? Oh yes, blew him up with a rocket launcher, Five! That's... [laughs] It's typical! My luck. We get Janine back safe, and oh, who pops up but the devil himself?

AMELIA SPENS: Bakari wants a team to sneak something out of Red Scorpion. Our hope is that it's a red fungus countermeasure. To get there, our team needs to infiltrate New Agadir, a city in the middle of the desert, while posing as Death's Hand, a mercenary group whose greatest hits include assassinating a blue chip CEO using a neurotoxin-tipped knitting needle and overthrowing at least three heads of state.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: This is all so exciting! Proper Mission Impossible stuff!

AMELIA SPENS: Peter, remind me why you brought the new person along. It's Frances, isn't it? From the Hebrides?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I wanted to try a run. Janine said I could come because it's a low-danger assignment, and because I promised to stop asking to be on the Tunisia team if she let me. I overheard Sam talking about the mission.

AMELIA SPENS: Marvellous. Janine should add “make Sam keep a secret” to her bucket list. [sighs] At least you're not pestering me to let you go. I've already had to veto Jody's involvement. I need her here working with me to train runners on McShell tower protocol.

PETER LYNNE: [laughs] I bet she was thrilled about that.

AMELIA SPENS: Anyway, our problem is getting a team to Tunisia. The information in Bakari's transmission enabled us to contact the Maghreb Protectorate, a government which operates in what used to be parts of Tunisia, Libya, and Algeria.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Another government, that's incredible!

AMELIA SPENS: Yes, well, they're no use to us yet. They have no jurisdiction over New Agadir, and besides, our governments do not yet trust each other enough for them to provide assistance. Our team can't risk crossing Europe - too many unknowns - and our few ships are all either exploring or acting as repeater stations for overseas agents - too far out to be useful.

All we have left are small coastal merchants. I've found one scow captain willing to take people to Tunisia, but he's cautious. He wants the latest nautical charts. Pre-apocalypse, obviously. Not a lot of hydrographic surveys since Z-Day. You're approaching the London home of Horatio Brewer, famous British investor. Should have what we want.

PETER LYNNE: Are we sure about that, Amelia?

AMELIA SPENS: Fairly. Mr. Brewer was a keen yachtsman. Old Ministry intel says he planned to escape Z-Day by sailing to a second home on the Tunisian coast. Had all the prep work done, then his neighborhood turned gray. We think zoms got him, but he was keeping his preparation safe in a basement vault.

PETER LYNNE: Great. So basically, we're looting a dead man's travel plans. Lovely. Um, see that street across the park, Five? That'll be his, so better hurry while it's still light out. Come on, everybody. Run!

[birds twitter]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Wow, this is a classy street. Look at the mansions. That one's got ivory cherubs carved over the gates.

PETER LYNNE: Neighborhood's in pretty awful condition, though. You've got overgrown gardens, smashed windows. No sign of V-types though, thank God. Dearg made me a prototype one-man burn cube, Five, sewn right into my chest. Anti-P-type measure. Got the trigger, but not massively eager to try it.

AMELIA SPENS: Maybe not, but it's the only reason I'm letting you near Tunisia.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: So Amelia, who exactly are these Death’s Hands people? Will they be tough to impersonate?

PETER LYNNE: Frances...

AMELIA SPENS: Oh, they're a nasty bunch. Former special ops, freelance since Z-Day. Bakari says they've been traveling the world as hired guns. Their rep gets them a lot of private security gigs. He's given us contact details for the real team, so we can lure them out of our operation’s way.

PETER LYNNE: Frankly, I don't think we should be trusting Bakari. This whole thing is probably a trap, which is why, Frances, Janine said that you can't – [zombies moan] Oh, God damn it!

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Uh, isn't that the place we want? Big Georgian house covered in ivy?

PETER LYNNE: Well, Amelia, there's a horde of zoms milling outside Brewer's house, so we can't make it to the entrance.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Well, we could gain entry by the house next door. Look at the big white mansion. Its roof's half collapsed, sloping into the road. We could clamber across it, jump to Brewer's roof, and get in through his attic window.

AMELIA SPENS: You know Peter, I'm warming to the new blood. Quickly then, off you go. I've got the scow captain waiting on tenterhooks. I need this deal closed ASAP. Run!

PETER LYNNE: Amelia, we um, we got in through the attic window, followed a ladder leading deeper into the house. Now we've found a sort of private antique collection? So we're in a carpeted hall full of artifacts in glass cases.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: They've got plaques. That's a Roman bust, Celtic coins, an Egyptian amulet. That's a Carthaginian pot from Tunisia. Shouldn't these be in a museum?

AMELIA SPENS: Ah, well, Mr. Brewer was a rather avid black market trader, made a fortune trafficking plundered historical artifacts. Actually, it might make a good impression if our little expedition returns some stolen goods. Grab the Carthaginian pot, Peter.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, burglary with Amelia, just like old times. So let's see. It's a classic. We've got the pot on the pedestal, so if I just lift its case - [alarm blares] Ah. I honestly didn't think the alarm battery would have lasted this long. Um, Five, grab that pot, would you?

[zombies moan]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Uh, guys, apparently there are zoms in the house too, coming up the stairs behind Five. Six big ones in dark suits.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, that'll be Brewer's former home security. Alarm's got their attention. Hello! Still on the job, eh, boys?

AMELIA SPENS: Wish I could find staff that dedicated. No need to waste rounds, blueprint says there's a master bedroom down the corridor on your left. Brewer always left a spare key in the lock for his mistress. If you can lure the zombies in, you can trap them there. Run!

FRANCES DEMSPEY: Keep going, Five, there's the door past the amphora vases. God, how big is this house?

AMELIA SPENS: It was originally five smaller houses that were joined together behind a Georgian facade. Brewer felt he needed the space.

[door creaks open, floor creaks]

PETER LYNNE: Amelia, we're in the bedroom. There's a – ooh, four-poster bed, lovely. Uh, photos of Brewer and his family. Nice mustache. It's very Howard Hughesian. Um, Frances, you okay?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Zombies! I forgot how scary they are up close. Didn't have them on Dearg. I'm actually shaking.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, uh, oh yeah, of course. No no no, um, it's okay, Frances. See, so the key was in the door and um, here's what we're gonna do. We're all going to get behind the bed. This room's really big, so when the zoms come at us, we'll then be able to circle around and lock them all in.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: The house isn't in the best structural condition. There are big cracks in the walls, and that creaking probably means the floor is compromised. If any more bodies start stomping in here -

[zombies growl]

PETER LYNNE: See, there are the zoms and they're... coming straight over the bed, so run for the - ! No, no, no! [shouts]

[floor collapses, glass shatters, PETER and FRANCES cough]

AMELIA SPENS: Peter, Five? What happened?

FRANCES DEMSPEY: The floor gave way under the bed! [coughs] The zoms were too much weight. It just smashed down through the house, took the zoms with it.

[house creaks]

PETER LYNNE: This house is definitely unstable. Yep, uh, sounds like the whole place is coming down.

AMELIA SPENS: If you follow the corridor outside the bedroom, you'll find stairs. Take them down to the basement. It's a reinforced garage, should remain intact if the house collapses. Plus, it's where that vault is. Hurry up, you don't have long to grab those charts, and they're absolutely vital.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, also um, there's a horde of zombies chasing us. Come on, run!

[zombies moan, house creaks]

PETER LYNNE: Yep, there's the stairs, Five. Straight down, down you go.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: The chandeliers overhead are really shaking. Five, look out!

[chandelier falls, glass shatters]

PETER LYNNE: [laughs] That was close! Chandelier smashed right through the stairs. Could have done without the glass shards in my face, to be perfectly honest. Um, edge around the hole it's left in the stairs. [house creaks, zombies moan] Oh, fantastic. Amelia, we just passed the ground floor and I can hear more zombies barging into the house. So that'll be the horde from outside, attracted to all the noise.

AMELIA SPENS: Just keep following the stairs down. There are exits in the basement, but you have to reach the vault first. Run!

PETER LYNNE: Yep, yep, yep. Five, close the door, close the door! [door slams shut] Oh, good. Amelia, we've made it. We're in the basement garage, and the stairwell’s collapsed behind us. Ooh, this is a huge concrete car park. There's tons of fancy cars. There's Bentleys, BMWs... a Model T? All right, just, could you give me a minute, Five? I've just got to pick some chandelier out of my face and eyes.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: That's amazing. Your wounds, the way they're healing. Enhanced cell regeneration? The scientists on Dearg talked about it. [gasps] This is what Van Ark did to you!

PETER LYNNE: Yes, it is. Not really looking forward to meeting him again. Rather pull my kidneys out, honestly. But Janine is not leaving me behind this time. I just got her back and I won't lose her again.

FRANCES DEMSPEY: Dearg was his, you know. I was trapped there for ages. If you're going to a Van Ark lab, I can help. And honestly, I can't stay in Abel. It's funny, when we got security fixed at Dearg, first place I wanted to see was where Alice lived. But being there... a lot of older runners, they look at me, they see her. It's hard.

That's why I really came today. I needed to get out. And I guess I started to feel... if I was going to be her ghost, I might as well run, like she did. I don't want to be a ghost, Peter, and I don't want to go back to Dearg. I want to see the world, find out where I fit in.

AMELIA SPENS: People, you should get moving. That wasn't the only staircase leading to the basement.

PETER LYNNE: Over there, Five, look. It's built into the concrete wall, huge round metal door. That looks like a vault to me. Come on, run!

PETER LYNNE: Amelia, we're at the vault door. Here's the C-4. Do the honors, Five. [explosion] [coughs] Okay. Okay, right. Uh, vault is a big gray room with shelves, lots of shelves. Uh, model yachts, dusty piles of... ooh, gold. Five, Frances, look for those charts.

[paper rustles]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Hey look, found a massive file on a shelf titled Inventory. It's an index of Brewer’s deals and trade contacts. There's a whole chapter on Tunisia.

PETER LYNNE: [laughs] Gotcha! There's tons of nautical charts on this desk under the sextant. [dragging footsteps] Uh, what was that sound? Five, could you go and check behind the shelf of canned food? [zombie groans] Oh, good. Hello! Amelia, we've found Brewer. Looks like he locked himself in here after he'd been bitten, entombed with his wealth like a rubbish pharaoh.

[laughs] Oh good, we've also got a zombie wife and two zombie children in the shadows. Welcome, everyone. He's taken his whole family down with him. [more zombies growl] And that is going to be the rest of the zombies in the garage. So Five, Frances, we're gonna move towards the door. Need an exit now, Amelia.

AMELIA SPENS: There's a ramp on the west end of the car park, leads up to the surface. The shutters open from inside. Hurry, get the charts to safety, run!

PETER LYNNE: Okay Five, Frances, I think we've lost the zoms. Street looks clear behind us.

AMELIA SPENS: Well, I'd call that a success. Five even kept the Carthaginian pot. Now we've got the charts, I can have people heading to Tunisia in days.

PETER LYNNE: Janine's finalized the team. It's her, me, Five, Sam, Maxine, and uh, computer expert. Look, I-I am sorry Frances, uh, but honestly, you are safer here. We're going a long way from home, and trust me, Van Ark isn't to be taken lightly.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Wait a second, look at this. The folder I took, it's full of photos, Brewer logging artifacts he traded. Look at this Roman mosaic from Tunisia, the symbol in the corner.

PETER LYNNE: That is the endless circle from Mor Island.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: That's not all. Brewer's notes say he sold the mosaic to a military base code-named Red Scorpion in Tunisia before Z-Day. He says the commander of the Red Scorpion base scared him, told him not to record any names. Whatever that place is, it's definitely connected to the fungus, and they've known about it since way before we have.

#zombies run #zrs9 #s9m4 #zr transcript #zrs9 spoilers

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Summary: The reader unexpectedly falls in love with two best friends

Characters: Frank Castle x black!reader, Billy Russo x black!reader

Warnings: Violence, language, and smut

WC: 6.5k (yeah, its hella long)

A/N: This is my baby and its finally ready for release. There will be a pt. 2, which revolves around season 2. Be on the lookout for that!

A groan behind the dumpster alerted you. Instinctively, you drew your gun and rounded the corner. Your eyes had to be deceiving you, because right now you were standing in front of a supposed to be dead Punisher.

Tucking your gun back in, you bent down to check on him. “Hey, are you ok?”

“I’m bleeding out lady, do I look okay,” he grunted.

Instead of sassing him back like you usually would, you pulled him up and started walking him up to your condo.

“Hey, lady you don’t have to do this. I’m good.” He protested, trying to push off of you, but too weak to do so.

“Stop calling me lady. My name’s Y/N. And you can’t even walk on your own. Let me stitch you up and then you can leave and finish whatever crusade you’re fighting.”

Frank shut his mouth. He did an okay job at stitching himself up, but it was always better to let someone else do it. Especially, when it’s a beautiful woman such as yourself.

You finally got into your place without getting caught. After, you guided Frank to a seat, you grabbed the first aid kit out of your bathroom.

“What’s a fancy girl like you willing to bring a bleeding man in your place,” Frank questioned after taking in your condo. Women who lived in places like these typically stayed away from men who looked like him currently. They usually clutch their purse and have 911 on speed dial.

“You’re not the first bloody man I’ve brought up here and you certainly won’t be the last. And plus, I know who you are, Frank,” you took a break from cleaning his wound to look up at him to show him you had no ill-intentions. “Whatever you’re doing now has to still do with your family and I totally get it. I didn’t stop hunting down the men who killed my sister.” You explained before he could even ask you.

“So, you’re not just some trust fund baby?” Frank joked.

Tugging on the thread a little hard you smiled at his wince. “No, I’m definitely a trust fund baby. I’m just a trust fund baby that knows how to shoot.”

For the first time tonight, he smiled, and you almost poked yourself with the needle. Frank Castle was already a dangerous man, but Frank Castle smiling was a deadly man.

“You know you should smile more,” you said, finishing up the last stitch.

“I haven’t had a reason to in a long time until now.” Frank stared at you for a while, but then he remembered he had to leave, not wanting you to get caught for harboring him.

He grabbed his jacket and limped to the door. “Thanks, Y/N.” He started turning the knob but stopped and looked back at you. “Um, do you mind? Can I- um, shit why is this so hard?” He fumbled with his words and you had to stop laughing, because you could tell Frank wasn’t a man who got nervous easily. “Would it be okay, if I uh, if I come here next time I’m all busted up?”

Going up to him, you reached up to the doorframe and grabbed the spare key. “How about this? You take this key and use it whenever you’re hurt.” You forcefully placed the key in his hand and gently shoved him out the door, because you knew he would reject your offer. “See you later, Frank.”

Since, that first night with Frank you seen him numerous times thanks to his extracurricular activities. Quickly, you two became friends, which probably a hard thing for Frank to do. Conversation between you two were never boring. In fact, most of the time you two spent it laughing. After all the tragedy in his life, you knew Frank needed a ray of light, some semblance of happiness and you were the one to offer it to him.

Sometimes during his visits, he would use you as a sounding board. Your dad ran a private security firm and you worked for him so, you would give him some insight on his missions. He trusted you so much, that he told you where his hideout was with David Liberman was so you could patch him up if he couldn’t make it to you.

During all your time with Frank, you found yourself falling for him. And who could blame you? He was the perfect mix between rough and gentle, serious and goofy, jackass and sweetheart. Your ex was the opposite. Sure, Billy was rough around the edges, but he had a smooth exterior. He could charm a homeless man into giving him his last dollar.

That’s how Billy ended up in your home even though you had a bleeding Frank locked in your spare bedroom. He charmed himself in.

“So, what is it that you want Bill? I’m tired and I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

He knelt in front of you and grabbed your hands. “I miss you. I want us to get back together, baby.”

Knocking his hands away, you stood up from the couch. “Bullshit, Billy! Didn’t I just see you with that curly-haired DHS agent a couple of months ago?”

Billy smirked at your jealously. He knew you would never admit it, but he still affected you. Hell, you still affected him. “She reminded me of you a bit and I thought I could stay with a poor reminder of you, but I can’t. You’ve been in my mind every fucking day and I can’t get you out no matter how many other women I fucked.” He lifted his hand to stop you from interrupting him. “I know I messed up, but baby I was in a dark place then and I’m better now. I need you Y/N. I wanna marry you, give you babies, and grow old together. Please, give me one more chance,” he pleaded with a kiss to your hand.

A war was raging inside of you. If Billy would’ve done this a couple of weeks earlier, you probably would’ve taken him back in heartbeat and given him a hard time about it, but now that you were developing feelings for Frank it wasn’t so easy.

“Who is he?” Billy’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Who’s the man you’re seeing” Billy annoyingly clarified for you.

You were confused. Why would he think you were seeing anyone? “Not that its any of your business Russo, but I’m not dating anyone. You kind of fucked up dating for me.”

Billy used his height to tower over you to intimidate you as he backed you into the wall. “Fuck that. Remember I can you read you so fucking well. What other man has you hesitating to take me back?”

When you didn’t answer, he kissed you roughly and what a wonderful feeling it was. Billy looked like he would be a gentle lover, but in reality, he was rough, and you loved it. Abruptly, he ended the kiss. “Does he kiss you like that? Does he know how you like to be man-handled? Does he know that you like it doggy-style with your hair pulled?” In between each question he would kiss you with his hands roaming your body.

Someway, somehow you ended up on your couch with Billy on top of you, pulling off each other’s clothes. Both of you were very close to getting naked when Billy’s phone went off. Angrily, he answered the phone and by the sound of it, you wouldn’t be continuing your little rendezvous.

“Work emergency,” he explained while putting his clothes back on. “But this is far from over. I’m picking you up at 9 tomorrow morning for breakfast. No arguments. I love you.”

“Love you too,” you replied back, before he kissed your forehead and rushed out the door.

With one door closing another one opened and you finally remembered about Frank. When he came out, he had a look of despair on his face and you felt so fucking bad. How could you be so inconsiderate of him while he was in pain?

Pushing him to the chair you apologized. “I’m so sorry, Frank. I just get so caught up in Billy that I forget about everything. I should’ve never let him in. I’m sorry.”

Frank grabbed your hands just like Billy did earlier. “No, I’m sorry.”

Now you were definitely confused. Why in the hell is Frank apologizing to you? “Umm for what,” you dragged out.

“You know I used to nag Billy about finding a good woman and settling down, you know the whole quality over quantity thing, and now look at me. I’m falling in love with his girl. Some fucking friend I am.” Frank confessed, keeping his head down.

You couldn’t believe what you just heard. Frank knew Billy. It wasn’t far-fetched, both were in the marines and at the same time. Great, it was just your luck that you fell for two best friends.

“Did you guys meet in the service?” You whispered, not trusting your voice to crack.

Frank shook his head yes. “Yeah, saved my ass more times I can count. He was on that special ops team with me that Rawlins and Schoonover headed.”

Nudging his head, you got Frank to look at you. “Frank, I didn’t know,” remorse filling your voice.

Frank held your face in his hands. “No, no, no. Its not your fault, sweetheart. Just my luck to fall in love with my best friend’s girl, huh?”

“You love me,” you asked, tears pricking your eyes.

“Oh yeah, who wouldn’t? But I already had my chance at happiness, now its Billy’s turn. You won’t see me again. I’ll get Liberman to fix me up.” Frank claimed, walking towards your door.

You grabbed his hand to try to pull him back, but he snatched his hand away with ease despite being hurt. “Frank don’t do this,” you pleaded with him.

Nodding his head to himself, he looked down at the ground. “I got to. Billy needs you. He needs a strong woman in his life. If you can make an angry, bitter fuck like me happy, you definitely can do the same for Bill. I can’t be around you, because I’ll do my best to keep you for myself.”

The both of you let reality sink in. This would be the last time you’d see Frank Castle. Just before he crossed the doorway, he slammed the door shut, gripped your face and backed you against the door. “Shit, I’m gonna regret it if I don’t do this.” Suddenly, his lips were on yours and it was divine. His kiss was gentle, but no less dominant or passionate than Billy’s. He just expressed it in a different way.

Before you got to truly relish in the kiss, Frank released your lips and leaned his forehead against yours. “Take care of Bill for me, ok,” and with one last kiss to your forehead Frank was gone.

Billy stood by the gate staring daggers at a cuffed Frank. Only if Frank would’ve stayed in hiding, he wouldn’t have to deal with all this and could be spending time with you.

“Just ask it, Bill. I know you want to,” Frank told him.

He pushed off the gate and got right in front of Frank’s face. Both men staring each other down in hate. “You screw her, Frank?”

Frank leaned back to take a look at his former best friend, a man he once considered as his brother. He toyed with the idea to lie to him but disregarded it because, he didn’t want to disrespect you by lying on you.

Getting fed up with waiting, Billy asked again with more bass in his voice. “Did you sleep with Y/N, Frankie?”

“No, but I should’ve.”

Billy cocked back his hand and punched Frank. No other man could have you, only him.

The punch didn’t affect Frank one bit. He just laughed it off and egged on Billy. “Man, you messed up, Bill. You lost her. Do you think she could ever forgive you after what you did? Was killing my wife and kids worth you losing the best damn thing in your miserable life!?” Frank ended up screaming in his face.

“My life wasn’t ruined until you decided to start your little revenge mission! I already had the ring picked out, the perfect wedding venue, and her father’s permission, but you ruined that Frank! You dragged the one pure thing in my life into your mess!”

Frank tried to jump up from his chair to get in Billy’s face. “No, you did that all on your own! After Madani found you out at the hotel, she brought Y/N in for questioning. Madani told me she railed into her. She thought Y/N had to know something, but she didn’t. Eventually, Madani believed Y/N and felt bad for her, so she told her the whole truth about you.”

“You’re lying and if you aren’t Y/N didn’t believe a word.” Billy sneered, pointing a gun at Frank.

“I’m not lying, Bill and you’re right…she didn’t believe Madani. Y/N/N didn’t believe it until she talked to me. I used to be able to find solace at Maria’s grave, but it wasn’t enough after I found out you betrayed me. So, I went to Y/N to talk and you wanna know what happened when she opened the door?”

Billy rolled his eyes at Frank’s dramatic storytelling. “What happened?”

“She broke down and cried.” Frank reminisced on your last encounter. The heartbreak on your face solidified his hatred for Billy. “All it took was one look at me and she knew everything Madani told her was true, and you wanna know what the kicker is? She apologized to me. To me! Like she was the one who pulled the trigger. She apologized for loving the man who destroyed my family. Hell, Billy she was so fucking disgusted with herself that she wouldn’t even let me touch her! Do you know what a fucking gift you had, Billy!? A woman like her only comes once in a lifetime.”

Billy had to hold himself together, no matter how much he wanted to break down. Whatever chance he thought he had with you was gone. There were a lot of things you could forgive, but his recent actions were unforgivable. “So, what now? You think you won now that you ruined my relationship with Y/N? What, are you two going to live happily ever after?”

“Hell no! Even though she hates what you did, she still loves you and that’s the beauty of Y/N. So, I can’t be with her when I kill the love of her life. I would be a constant reminder of that.”

Bending down, leaning on his knees Billy said to Frank, “That’s not gonna happen. You’ll be dead and then I’ll have time to fix things with Y/N.”

The former friends couldn’t resume their argument, because Rawlins finally showed up. This conversation would have to pick up at another time.

—

Miraculously, Lieberman was able to get in contact with you and informed you of Frank’s crazy plan. David only told you, so you can get to their safe house before Homeland Security and save Frank. He had a horrible feeling that Frank was being tortured or at the brink of death.

And he was absolutely right. When you got to the safe-house Frank was beaten at the worst you’ve ever seen him, and Rawlins had a knife to his eye.

Knowing Rawlins’ death belonged to Frank, you let off a warning shot by his ear. “Get away from him you cyclops looking ass bitch!”

All eyes turned on you. Both Frank and Billy were in shock that you were there, but Rawlins was happy.

“Forget the eye you owe me, Castle. I’ll just take one more thing you love.” Quickly, Rawlins grabbed you and put the knife to your neck.

“What the fuck are you doing, Rawlins!?” Billy yelled, drawing his gun.

“Let her go! You got me! Come kill me you son of a bitch!” Frank shouted, attempting to jump from his seat.

Both men kept yelling at him, but it didn’t deter Rawlins. Instead he added more pressure to your neck, drawing blood.

“Shut it, Russo! You don’t get to question me; you work for me.” Rawlins leaned into your ear. “I thought I would have to find you and make your death look like an accident. But look, the last loose end, struts right into the lion’s den.”

Desperately, you wanted to knock him out, but with how close he had the knife to your neck, there was a great possibility that Rawlins could get in a fatal blow.

“I’ll get her under control. She won’t say a word.” Billy tried to reason with him.

“No fucking way! I can’t wait to see Frank put a bullet in your fugly face!” You said to Rawlins, correcting Billy.

You could practically hear Billy roll his eyes at your outburst. One of things he loved and hated about you is, that you always spoke your mind, but it was one of the times that it was detrimental. “Y/N, shut the fuck up!” Frank and Billy reprimanded you.

Rawlins laughed at the interaction. “Sorry to end this little love triangle, but you can blame Castle for pulling her in Russo.”

What you and Rawlins didn’t know was that Frank and Billy were silently communicating on how to save you. Earlier, Billy loosened Frank’s restraints, because Rawlins was being a dick to him, so he deserved what was coming to him.

Finally, getting the hint Frank broke free. The shock caused Rawlins to loosen his hold on you, which allowed Billy to grab you.

“You good? Are you okay, baby?” Billy questioned while his hands roamed your body for injuries. When he was satisfied that you weren’t hurt, he kissed you deeply. For a moment, you forgot that he was backstabbing murderer, but the sound of Frank attacking Rawlins pulled you out of it.

Never had you seen Frank fight. You only saw the aftermath. So, you were intrigued when he fought Rawlins.

Billy tried to turn your head. “Don’t look. Y/N don’t need to see this.” You slapped his hands away and continued to watch anyway.

The way Frank fought was unbridled, ruthless, and brutal. Truthfully, if it was anyone else you would be concerned about their mental state, but you understood the depth of his anger and that was how he expressed.

You ran to Frank when he almost passed out after killing Rawlins. “Hey, baby wake up,” you lightly slapped his face.

“BABY!?” Billy roared from the other side of the room.

“I wish I could see your face right now, Bill. You just realized you’re done, and you lost everything you gave a shit about.” Frank struggled to speak.

“This isn’t my gun, Frank. I was never here. Y/N was never here.” Billy pulled you up from, Frank’s body and dragged you across the room.

You managed to pull yourself out of his hold and give Billy a right hook. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Do you think we still have a chance after everything you’ve done?”

Billy crowded your space and pointed the gun at Rawlins. “I offered Frankie a ticket out of the country before and just now I loosened the zip tie, so Frank had his chance. Ain’t that enough? What else do you want from me?”

“How about some remorse!? Can you even access that emotion or does that require too much selflessness from you?” You challenged Billy. You had to be hard on him or you would be too weak and take him back like nothing.

Taking a second, he looked up to the ceiling in deep thought. Billy leveled his eyes to yours and sighed, “What was happening when I broke up with you?”

“Huh? That’s irrelevant, Billy!”

“Its not! Now think what was in the news when I ended things?”

It took you awhile for you to remember, but when you did it hit you like a freight train. “Frank. His trial. Everything with Frank was front and center,” you mumbled.

“How does that matter, Billy?” Frank yelled off from the side. He didn’t need Billy charming his way back into your good graces.

“None of your business, Frankie. Why don’t you stick to dying over there?”

Punching Billy in the stomach, you scolded him. “Stop it!”

This time he let you go when you went to check on Frank. He was bleeding badly, so you took off your shirt to slow down some of the bleeding.

“Well, ain’t that a sight to go out to,” Billy commented on how Frank got an ample view of your breasts.

Billy’s smartass remarks were getting on your everlasting nerves and you were running out of patience. “William ‘Billy’ Russo quit your shit!”

“He ain’t lying sweetheart. That beautiful face being the last thing I’ve see is a blessing.” Frank took a bloody hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You leaned down to his ear, playing it off as if you were leaning down to kiss him. “Stop talking. I need to stall him long enough until DHS gets here.”

Then you placed a kiss on his cheek, earning you a shot dangerously close to Frank from Billy. “None of that,” he warned.

“Okay, since I can’t do fucking anything but listen, please enlighten me what Frank’s trial had to do with us breaking up.”

Scratching the side of his head, Billy was trying to figure out where to start at. He had to make you see sense, to make you understand that he wasn’t as heartless as you believed him to be. “Y/N, you changed everything. Maria, the kids, I pushed all the guilt down and reasoned that their deaths were necessary, because I deserved better. And when all that shit went down with Frank and why he was killing everyone, all that guilt came back up.”

“Why then, Billy? Why did you feel guilty then!?”

“Because of you, damn it! Because I could finally relate. Because if someone as so much laid a fucking finger on you, they’d be dead. Shit, I already told Frankie over there, so I tell you, I was planning to propose to you. That pregnancy scare we had right before we broke up made me ready to have a family with you and I knew if someone took it away like Frank’s family, I would’ve ended up the same way.” Billy confessed.

Frank tried to stand up after he heard Billy’s confession, but he was too hurt, so you gently pushed him back down. “Having a family of your own made you regret your decision, even though we considered you family!?” The hurt was evident in Frank’s voice and you thought he may never recover.

“Frank, it’s done and over with. That chapter of your life is done. Matter of fact,” Billy gripped you by the back of the neck and pulled you against him. Then he cocked his gun and aimed at Frank despite your protests. “It’s the end of your story.”

Just before he was able to pull the trigger on Frank, a bullet from a Homeland Security hit his shoulder. He recovered quickly and dragged you with him, not caring that you left behind a bleeding Frank. The only solace you had in that moment was Madini would be able to get him the help that he needed.

“This is stupid, you know. You have DHS, NYPD, and my dad on your ass. Just turn yourself in and end the madness, Billy.”

Billy looked away from the window to look at you, “I’m not going prison. All I gotta do is get rid of Frank and then we’re off to a country with no extradition and starting a new chapter of our lives.”

Thankfully, Billy trusted you to a degree and didn’t tie you to the chair. So, you got up and wrap your arms round his waist and laid your head on his back. “If you go after Frank, do you really think you’ll survive that, Billy? He’s pissed and he’s not gonna stop til you’re dead. The only way to stop this is to convince you, because I know Frank can’t and more importantly, I won’t ask that from him either”

Insulted that you didn’t believe he could survive, Billy stepped out of your embrace. “You rather have me in prison?”

“I rather have you in prison than six feet under! God, Billy do you know how fucking conflicting this is for me!? I have to deal with two men I love trying to kill each other and one of em deserves it! Do you know how much it hurts my heart to say you deserve to die, Billy?” Sobs racked your body and eventually your body gave out and you fell to the floor. Never has Billy seen you cried like this. He got down to the floor and held you until the sobs subsided. “Please Billy, if you can’t go to prison just leave the country, but I can’t go with you.” You whispered against him.

It seemed like an eternity passed after you gave Billy that ultimatum. He truly considered it, but he couldn’t live without you, even if it would mean you would hate him forever. “You said it best, doll: Frankie ain’t stopping, so neither am I.” He admitted, right before he ripped your shirt in half.

“What the fuck, Billy?!” You slapped his hands away, but that didn’t deter him. His hands began to drift off to your pants and you were positive they were going to be his next victim.

Twisting your hip away from him, you were able to escape Billy’s embrace. “Bill, what the hell are you doing?”

Billy went down to push your pants down. “Just like I told you neither me or Frankie is stopping and if this is my last day on earth I wanna make love to my soulmate and possibly leave her with a little gift.”

“Uh huh. There’s absolutely no way I’m having sex with you.” Your voice quivered as you tried to reject Billy. Despite seeing him callously kill those DHS agents at his house, your body thrummed with excitement at the prospect of having sex with Billy.

Softly kissing the column of your neck with little nips in between, Billy cockily asked, “Is that so?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you shook your head yes, which was a big no no for Billy. He loved you being vocal. Even when you two would sneak around in public, he made no efforts to quiet your moans.

“Use your words, darling,” he warned with two quick slaps to each butt cheek.

You melted into him despite the stings on your ass. “We’re totally not having sex,” you stuttered while Billy was massaging your ass.

Billy said nothing as his hand slid up your neck and lightly squeezed your throat. “See, your mouth is saying one thing, but your body is saying the complete opposite. Are you sure that’s what you want, baby? You know how good I can make you feel. How full I make you feel with me between those luscious thighs. How blissful it feels when I get at just the right angle and hit that spot. How high you feel when I start rubbing that pretty clit of yours while I’m plowing into you. Or how about how good it feels when I finally let you cum and you gush all over me. Do you really want to miss out on that for possibly the last time?”

At this point, you were a puddle. Billy always had a way with words. You only had enough energy to turn to face Billy and rip off his clothes. “That’s my girl,” Billy chuckled as he helped you take off his clothes and the remaining of yours.

Billy lowered himself to his knees and threw one of your legs over his shoulders, but you stopped him before he could get started. “No, I need you inside of me,” you ordered him.

“Someone’s impatient,” Billy smirked, standing up to his full height.

“Stop playing around or I’ll go find someone else to finish the job.”

Billy’s whole face darkened, he lifted your leg around your waist and entered you roughly. Both of you moaned in ecstasy. Both enjoying the familiar feeling of each other.

“Feels like my words did the trick. I didn’t even get to taste my favorite meal, because you’re so fucking wet already.” Billy whispered, not moving one inch since he entered you.

To motivate him, you slapped Billy across the face. “I swear to God, Russo if you don’t start moving, I’m gonna—oh shit,” your eyes rolled to your back of your head as Billy pulled out and pushed back in.

Yours and his moans plus the sound of skin slapping together were basically pornographic. Billy was right, he knew exactly how to make you feel on top of the world.

“I’m close, baby. Are you?” Billy asked, moving all your hair to one side so he could kiss the side of your neck. Somehow you managed to tell him yes and he let out a growl of approval.

“I’m gonna bust all in you. You hear me?” Billy yanked back your hair. “I’m gonna fill you with my seed and hope to see you round with my baby. Whether I end up dead or alive, either way I’m getting you pregnant tonight.”

His words shouldn’t have turned you on, but they did. You shouldn’t even be having sex with him right now but fucking Billy Russo could have almost anything he wanted especially when he was deep in your guts.

Billy’s pace fastened, causing both of you to erupt against each other. Both of your bodies were covered in the light sheen of sweat, but neither of you made the effort to clean up. In fact, you snuggled into him, drifting off to sleep, not knowing the shit show you would awake to later.

When you woke up, you were tied to a carousel, Dinah was lying on the ground with a gun shot wound to the head, and Billy and Frank were beating each other to death.

Neither man had the upper hand, they were too evenly matched for each other. “Guys, please stop!” Your throat was harsh, but you managed to scream at them.

It took a couple of more screams for them to finally pay attention to you.

“Sweetheart, you good? Did he hurt you?” Frank asked, oblivious to Billy planning to attack him. Billy managed his sneak attack on Frank and he finally got the upper hand. Your heart dropped. It looked like Frank was going to die, because you were a distraction.

You were in such a frenzy that you didn’t notice you broke the zip ties until you fell from the carousel.

In the nick of time, you were able to cover your body over Frank’s, halting Billy’s assault.

“Get out the way, Y/N!” Billy ordered you.

Shaking your head, no, you pleaded with him. “Please stop.”

Billy rolled his tongue around like he always does when he’s pissed. “Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Do you love him?” He hissed.

“Yes,” you uttered, knowing it would break Billy’s heart.

“Do you love him more than me?”

“I..I…I don’t know.”

Sheathing his knife, he bent down, gripped the sides of your face and gave you a bruising kiss. You couldn’t tell if the kiss was meant for pleasure or punishment, or maybe both.

“Well, we’re about to find out.” He pushed off of his heels and cocked his gun. “Choose.”

“What?” You questioned, obviously confused.

Frank finally spoke up from under you. “Bill, you piece of shit. Don’t you do this to her!”

Billy was unfazed and instead of pointing the gun at Frank, he pointed it to Dinah. “Choose or she won’t even get the chance to survive the first shot.”

Frantically, you looked between both Frank and Billy. Each man so different but so similar at the same time and both had a vise grip on your heart.

“Frank,” you whispered with your head hanging down. “I choose Frank.”

If he wasn’t bleeding, you would’ve been able to see the red flushing Billy’s face.

He nodded his head as if he understood. “You always make things difficult. That’s ok, it’ll be just like when we first started dating.”

Expert marksmanship was Billy’s thing, so he always had a shot at Frank despite you covering his body. When the shot went off, you got clipped in the shoulder.

That moment set something off in Frank and he had renewed energy. Just like when Rawlins cut you, he was an animal. He attacked Billy so ferociously, you thought Billy was dead. But Frank shocked you, he told Billy he’ll leave him alive. The only thing that worried you was would it have been better just to kill Billy after the state Frank left him in.

—

Things were as good as they were gonna get. David was back with his family, Billy was locked up and hospitalized, Dinah was alive, and the CIA and DHS decided to leave Frank alone, letting him live his life.

Currently, you were waiting on Frank to go to David’s house for dinner with his family.

“Hey, Frank you almost ready?” You asked, putting on your earrings.

Frank came out of your guest room with a big duffel bag and a face full of regret.

Nodding to yourself to stop from crying, you asked the question you already knew the answer to. “You’re not going, are you?”

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Frank looked off to the side before returning his gaze to you. “Yeah.”

Walking over to him, you stuck your hands in his back pockets and gave him your irresistible puppy dog face. “There’s no way I can make you stay?”

Frank shook his head at you. He had to be strong or otherwise you would have him wrapped around your finger. Who’s he kidding? He’s probably already is. “You’re dangerous. You know that, sweetheart?”

Flipping your hair, you smiled up at him. “Duh. I kick ass on the daily.”

“That’s true, but you can really bring a man to his knees with just those beautiful eyes of yours. So, stop giving me those puppy dog eyes, or I’ll never leave you alone.”

Since, your innocent act wouldn’t work you decided to be a bit more devilish. This time you snaked your arms around Frank’s neck, brought your face closer to his and whispered into his ear. “You sure you can’t stay? At least for dinner?” You asked, licking the shell of his ear before tugging it in your mouth.

Grabbing handful of your ass, Frank pulled you closer to him and growled in your ear. “Don’t go poking the bear.”

“Or what,” you threw back, smirking up at him.

Frank shoved you against the nearest wall to kiss you and fondle your body. The way he was kissing you was almost like he was marking his territory, making it impossible for you to think about any other man.

His hands drifted to the inside of your jeans, where he pushed your panties to the side to insert two of his digits inside of you.

“Frankkkk,” you whimpered, digging your fingers in his shoulders. Those two fingers alone were stretching you out almost making you feel full. You couldn’t imagine how it would feel to get the real deal.

“Hey, open your eyes. I want to see them when I make you cum.” Frank rasped against your ear, making you even wetter than before.

Frank sped up his fingers and used his thumb to massage your clit. He loved how you quivered against him, knowing he was the cause of it. He loved your little moans that made him harder. He loved how hard you were digging into his shoulders that he knew would cause bruises. All of it he loved because he loved you.

He felt you contract around his fingers and he was in a dilemma. Desperately, he wanted to observe you fall apart against him, but he also wanted to draw it out, because this was the last time he planned on seeing you.

“Baby, please,” you begged Frank. Hearing you beg, undid Frank and at that moment he decided to finish you off.

Curling his thick fingers without changing his pace, Frank hit your g-spot, making you cum so hard you saw white spots.

Frank muffled your moans with his lips on yours. The way he was kissing you made you already wanting to start round two when you barely made it through the first round.

You whimpered when he slipped his fingers out of you and into his mouth. Unwrapping your arms from around his neck, you tried to stand on your own, but you stumbled a bit. “You okay, sweetheart?” Frank chuckled while checking on you.

When you shook your head yes, he reached down to pick up his duffel bag. “Still leaving huh?” You asked trying to keep the disappointment out.

“It’s better this way. Gives you a chance at a normal lifestyle.” Frank explained to you.

“What if I don’t want normal,” you countered.

Frank smirked at you before pulling you back into him. “You deserve it after all this bullshit, sweetheart. Go find an accountant or some stockbroker. Anyone who’s not like me or Billy.”

Pouting, you playfully hit his shoulder. “But I like my men a little murderous,” you whined.

Frank couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh. He was gonna miss that humor of yours. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

“I’m serious too! What the hell am I gonna do with a stockbroker? I’m gonna be like: ‘Oh what did I do? I beat the shit out of my client’s abusive husband. So, how was your day?’”

“You can’t beat the shit out of those assholes if you’re on the run with me. You gotta stay here help people out. It’s your calling.” It hurt to admit it, but Frank was right. The way Frank loved being a marine was the same way you loved helping out people.

Accepting defeat, you hugged Frank tightly, taking in his scent, committing it to memory. “I love you, Frank Castle.”

Slightly, pulling away from you Frank cupped your face as if he was holding precious cargo and kiss the corner of your lips. “I love you too.”

Just for a couple of seconds both of you stood there silently, getting your fill of each other for the last time. Frank was the one that broke contact first when he reached for the door. “Take care of yourself Y/N.” He advised, right before walking out the door.

After Frank left, you locked the door and slid to the ground, allowing yourself to finally let the tears fall. In a span of a couple of months you were in love with two men, one who was responsible for the deaths of the other’s family, and in a matter of days both were out of your life.

@twistedcharismaaa @titty-teetee @guccicloudz @gollyderek @harrysthiccthighss @angievii @gabytodd @frantic-realm @mmabodybuilder @breanime @veryfastspeedz @mbaku-babygirl @crushed-pink-petals @music-geek19 @voluptuouspelko

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spectralscathath · 4 years

Text

Flip a Coin or Two

Fair Game Week, Day 1: Semblances/Flirting

A walk in the park, a couple of hot beverages, and a cold night. What could go wrong?

If you're Qrow Branwen, the answer is 'everything your semblance can get its grubby gremlin hands on'.

Ao3 link

It was just a walk in the park. Well, actually, it had first been Qrow wandering the halls of Atlas Academy with a healthy dose of mild insomnia and an urge to move, to travel, to explore. He was a rover at heart, never was able to stay in one place forever without suitable chaos or company to keep him entertained, usually both at once.

So he’d left, not even Atlas’s heating system able to fully take away the bite of the nightly chill. He didn’t mind. It was bracing. He’d walked down the entrance of Atlas Academy, considering turning into a bird just to stretch his wings, when a friendly holler had caught his attention.

Clover had been awake, fuck knows why, and had apparently noticed Qrow’s general lurking. An invitation to grab a hot drink had turned into a nightly stroll around one of Atlas’s many parks, and the largest one had the heating lowered enough for actual snow to fall, creating a permanent winter wonderland.

It was nice, to watch ribbons of colours dance across the night sky like oil paints, the shattered moon hanging above. Trees and lanterns lined some of the pathways, and if Qrow looked beyond them he could see the outline of some kid’s snowman.

He also saw small things moving in the darkness, which he found way more interesting, especially when one white shape darted across the path in front of him and he realised it was one of the snow rabbits that filled this park in droves. It was cute (reminded him of Summer, with her white cloak and shy eyes), a welcome distraction to try spot them as he and Clover chatted about random topics, the conversation flowing in the way only conversations do and never faltering.

It was right when Clover was righteously trying to convince him of some sort of strange, obviously deeply personal argument involving sugar and tea (Clover fell on the side of ‘would rather eat his own hands then have sugar in tea’ and was very emphatic about it), that it happened.

And by ‘it’, Qrow meant his usual stupid luck.

Qrow felt a shiver go down his spine, like cold fingers tracing each vertebrae, Lady Luck’s hand gently raking her nails over his nape, and he did a quick step back on sheer reflex. Good for him, he managed to dodge the sudden weight of snow that had fallen from one of the trees he and Clover had been walking under, the packed powder too heavy to stay on the branch.

Unfortunately for Clover, the Ace Ops captain was now sporting a very fetching cap of snow across his head and shoulders, and on top of the lid of his (incredibly stupid, shamrock-printed, green) travel mug.

Qrow winced and sipped his own coffee, one hand sequestered safely in his pocket while the other curled tight around the warm beverage. “… Whoops.”

Clover looked over his shoulder, teal eyes almost comically wide as he seemed to be processing what happened, before they twinkled in amusement and he shook himself in an almost-canid motion, the snow in his hair splattering everywhere around him.

Qrow squawked a curse as he moved to shield his mug, the snow hitting his arm instead. “You son of a- what was that for?”

“Apologising,” Clover grinned, his hair an absolute mess that still had melting snowflakes clinging to the brown tufts. “It’s not your fault.”

“It was my semblance.” He knew it for a fact.

That got him a quirked brow. “I thought you said you couldn’t control it.”

“I can’t,” he shrugged, already feeling defensive. “I just-” how to explain. He didn’t remember explaining this to anyone. Raven, Tai, and Summer had been there on this little journey of discovery.

He muttered a few random swears under his breath as he tried to pick the best words, stealing a glance at Clover. Clover was just standing there, with his stupidly open smile, a friendly glitter in eyes like a shallow sea in sunlight, and endless patience to match Qrow’s reticence.

So he took a breath and decided to just say it. After all, if anyone on Remnant could understand, it was this dork of a soldier. “My semblance is passive. But it’s more like… random spikes of misfortune. I can sorta control the frequency, and intensity, but I can’t stop it completely.”

“So… that was one of those uncontrolled ones?”

“They’re all uncontrolled. But if I’m in a fight, I can-” don’t make it sound dumb- “turn the knob, make them more likely. Skew the probability that my semblance will spike and something will happen. But it doesn’t discriminate between me, my allies, and my enemies.” That was the worst thing about it. The liability it made him. He didn’t even go into hospitals, most of the time, because all it would take was his semblance hexing one machine and someone could very well die.

Clover nodded to himself, taking it in and chewing it over, being just as careful with his words as Qrow was. While he thought, he unscrewed the lid of his travel mug and upturned it, spilling the most-likely-spoiled tea out as he flicked snow off the lid.

“So if that was random, how did you jump back so fast?”

Qrow scratched the back of his neck, where the skin still prickled a little bit. “You ever get the feeling that someone walked over your grave? Like the hairs on the back of your neck stand up?”

“Once or twice. I’m sure everyone has.” Clover studiously examined his travel mug before he screwed it all back together and clipped it, with the fucking side attachment, to his belt. Right next to the honest-to-gods rabbit foot. Weirdo. Weird, weird weirdo.

“Most of the time, unless it’s something really small,” a tire popping, a table leg breaking, a window cracking, a log falling out of a fire, “I feel that right before a spike. Split-second warning, I guess.”

“Makes sense,” Clover nodded and fell back into step beside him, hands folded lightly behind his back.

Qrow slouched a bit, taking a swig of his coffee (black, no sugars, double shot) in a familiar motion but without the familiar burn of alcohol down his throat. “Heh. I guess.”

They walked through the park in silence for a minute, a cold breeze whipping a flurry around their ankles and making Qrow’s tattered cape flutter behind him. He glanced at Clover out of the corner of his eye. “Your turn, Shamrock.”

Clover gave him another one of those quirked brows. “My turn?”

“Well, I talked about how my semblance works. Tit for tat, right?” He swirled the coffee in his mug to check how much he had. “I’ll get you a new tea.”

“Well, how could I refuse?” He grinned at him. “Alright. Mine’s random too. It’s usually small things, like Elm happening to have just finished baking something if I drop by, or the television plays the funnier commercials during ad breaks. My favourite chair in the rec room is free, or I find some Lien on the ground when I walk to work.”

“I’m not even jealous at this point,” Qrow chuckled, even if he was a small bit. Sometimes it hurt a little bit, because he was a petty, cranky grump and his heart wasn’t exactly gilt and gold. But Clover’s semblance was just… luck of the draw. They both got it, opposite sides of the coin.

Clover smiled a little awkwardly, a concerned tilt to his brows. “Not my intention. But I can amplify it, somewhat. Same principle as when you flip a coin and hope it’ll land on heads, only it almost always does for me. And before you ask, no. I don’t affect anyone else like you do. My semblance only works for me.”

Qrow noticed what looked almost like guilt sweep across those green eyes for a moment, before it disappeared back under Clover’s armour. “Yours ever tire you out?”

“Only when it does something really crazy,” Clover chuckled. “That’s the only time I can actually tell it was me. For most of the small to intermediate stuff, the only way I know it’s activated is when something fortunate happens.”

Qrow pulled his hand out of his pocket to hide a smile. “Hang on, are you telling me that my unlucky arse has more control over my semblance then you?”

“Would we call a warning system ‘controlled’?” Clover teased, light and airy, unlike the jabs that Qrow usually got from anyone willing to ever mention it.

“You’re just mad cause I got one.” Qrow thumbed at his chest with a cocky smirk.

Clover laughed, deep and real and warm, his head tossed back and his bird’s nest hair outlined by lantern light, and Qrow felt a squishy feeling in his chest that was probably a bad sign.

“Sure, I’d like to be able to know in advance if my semblance is about to drop a meteor on a grimm next time, I nearly passed out from how quick my aura dropped.” Those green eyes locked onto Qrow’s red with a fey-like sparkle and Qrow smirked in challenge.

“A meteor?”

“Well,” Clover grinned sheepishly. “Technically falling debris. But a meteor sounds more impressive.”

Qrow barked a short laugh of his own, the fingers of his free hand brushing daringly against Clover’s for a moment as they walked. “More egotistical, I’d say.”

“A little bit of exaggeration makes a story more interesting, there’s no ego involved.” Clover defended, traces of laughter lingering in his voice.

Qrow snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, Shamrock, maybe one day I’ll believe it.”

Clover’s smile softened. “Maybe one day. I like that.”

The tips of Qrow’s ears warmed slightly and he felt a prickle on the back of his neck, semblance spiking in tandem with his skipping pulse as he tripped over himself. Clover’s hands fastened on his arm immediately, keeping Qrow from faceplanting into the trodden-down snow.

His half-empty mug took the fall instead.

Both men stared at the remnants of the coffee as it leaked sluggishly out into the snow, Clover’s hands warm on Qrow’s bicep. He hadn’t let go and Qrow was in no mood to tell him to.

“… So, more coffee?”

“Ew, no, you owe me tea.”

Well now, this is a fluffy, heartwarming surprise compared to my usual fare. Stay tuned, folks, I’m hoping to get some good stuff out for this week.

Until tomorrow, luvs.

#Fair Game #fairgameweek2020 #Clover Ebi #Qrow Branwen #rwby #my writings #this one goes out to my fair game friends

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yuli-the-bi · 4 years

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It took me a while to recollect myself after today's chapter. After excitedly getting up super early (went to bed around 4am, woke up at 7) and waiting patiently for the episode to come out, I had such high hopes, y'know? (Warning: this gets a bit long.)

But that quickly ended in a punch to the gut that, honestly, left me speechless and with full-body tremors. I haven't had an anxiety attack in a while but it hit me hard and took me some time to calm down. I'm used to disappointment from series I watched in the past, but I sincerely did have faith in this one. V7 was what got me back into rwby, mainly because I had dropped it after skipping around the events of V5. I had noticed Qrow getting attention on this site, and went "sure, why not?" and checked the tag. This was when chapter 3 aired, and man, was everyone going wild over it-- for completely good reason. I've always been attached to Qrow as a character. I've had the lowest times in my life where I didn't think I would get back up, and here he was, the character that I saw parts of myself reflected in-- suddenly earning a potential partner that, for once, could balance his semblance and quite possibly everything else. We weren't wrong in the least in that regard.

Speaking from a narrative design point, the outer, cinematic dialogue for c12 was just... so wrong in many ways. It felt like characterization was thrown out the window, Tyrian aside. I've written countless scripts for games, and as a writer you are responsible for forming an immersive dialogue/monologue that will direct the audience into experiencing specific emotions. The lines here, while beautifully delivered by the amazing voice actors, gave me the feeling of two utter, complete strangers that were pitted against each other rather than two people who have been together for quite some time and have developed a bond. The words, especially from Clover, were visceral, cold, and almost robotic. Completely OOC actions aside, the tone set in the scenes were so unnatural it caused me to pause the video several times to digest what had been said.

It hurt to hear Clover of all people, the same man throughout the volume show his concern for ALL civilians, including Mantle (cue back to c9 where he was the one to panic about rushing the rwbyjnr + ace ops/qrow to Mantle to save the people, as well as his stern orders to prioritize the safety of the people), to suddenly become a callous soldier set in his ways. He turned his back on the people that depended on him, which seems to be a reoccurring theme in these past few episodes. That doesn't reflect the man I've seen, admired, and analyzed throughout the volume. This one today felt unnatural and lacked all empathy that he had once shown (literally just in c11 you can *hear* the relief and joy in his voice once he reports that they've apprehended Tyrian, the psycho who has been out on a killing spree and Clover explicitly expressed malice to). This episode just completely forgoes the warmth I've been hearing in his voice.

I'm angry, depressed, and quite frankly, so fucking annoyed at how this episode was handled, from the standpoint of a narrative design/script writer and a fan of the show since high school. There were so many other routes they could have taken, granted, that could have given us just as much angst/shock value without the cost of a character that was a major pillar of support for Qrow. There has been so much wonderful development throughout the volume that sincerely gave me hope that it was going to be okay for him, and in turn, be okay for me and many other individuals who see themselves in Qrow's shoes. But that hope was demolished the moment I heard Clover speak so coldly, just barely showing reluctance he had so boldly delivered in previous chapters. I knew something was wrong, but didn't want to believe it. When I write dialogue for my scripts, I always envision myself as the character speaking, including gestures, facial expressions, and tone/pitch used to create a 'realistic' voice for them. I'm not one of the writers, but they demonstrated a very transparent purpose of closing off the possibilities of character growth with just those few lines. The intention was there. It probably has been from the start. And that isn't okay.

Not when there has been, admittedly, so many scenes where it touched upon gentler, more open emotions like trust, which is supposed to be such a huge factor in this volume. It was used horribly in this chapter, as it was meant to twist Clover's words, making it seem as though Qrow was completely in the wrong when we all fucking know it's two sides of the same coin. Not one side is completely right or wrong. "I wanted to trust you too" really hit me in all the wrong places. It crushed the hope for their bond, and all for what? Dramatic flair? If that's the case, then it was a real poor stylistic choice. Qrow was spot on when he said Clover was being manipulative-- because those words, while they sounded as if they were filled with pain, were all transparent in terms of closing off any more development between them. All these lines served one purpose, and that was to stamp out whatever had been blooming underneath all their previous interactions. Very melodramatic, I've seen about a thousand of these used, and none of them ever get me to react the way the writer intended for. It just left the worst taste in my mouth. (And don't even get me started on that ending. It might've appeased whatever audience they were going for, but bluntly put I've seen commercials that delivered stronger emotional impact than that. It clearly shows even more how Clover is distanced from Qrow in that regard. The "Good luck" at the end is a call back sure but the words exchanged really just... left me feeling so empty rather than a heart full of emotions. I only started crying once I heard Qrow's anguished scream and saw the light fade from Clover's eyes.)

I've seen all the wonderful AUs and fix-it scenarios that many of you have been posting and I really appreciate all your positivity through this horrible misstep in show production. (Thank you to those who are liking and reblogging my fair game comic I made a while back.) This has hurt me so badly that I know I probably won't open up and trust shows like this for quite some time, if ever. I'm skeptical about any changes that might occur in the finale, but I'll be looking at it with cold indifference nonetheless. I'll probably take a break from the series again afterward, but will definitely continue basking in the absolute joy of the fair game community and ignoring... whatever the hell that was. (I actually have some WIPs for fics saved that I might work on and publish once I get time off work). I'm sorry for my rambling and that it might not make much sense, but I had to voice my thoughts on the situation today. It is not okay by any means, and everyone who is upset by this is valid.

#fair game #yuli rants #I'm really fucking upset and I've been trying to keep the rambling to a minimum but I couldn't hold back #I had a lot of hope in crwby and they just smashed my favorite character's positive development to pieces #all for some fucking useless shock value or an attempt at moving the story along #fuck off and seriously reconsider who is consuming your media before assuming you know what's good for the show #it's 2020 and I have to bear with seeing a man die before he can even develop a deeper bond with his soulmate goodbye #luck birds #lucky charms #qrover #clover x qrow

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theninjamouse · 4 years

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Title: Wisdom

Summery: It’s time for that dreaded procedure.

(Hi, this is a silly little thing that I’ve wanted to write for ages and last night I stayed up way too late finally writing it. I’ll put it up on ao3 as well but for now, have this)

There comes a time in many people’s lives when they must face against a truth. A truth that cannot be avoided, nor ignored in the intensity of its pain. You had hoped against hope that perhaps, you would be spared this fate but alas!

Your time has come.

~~~~~~

Grillby stares at you, blinking slowly. “They’re going to…what?”

You sigh. “I just explained it through dramatic monologue!”

“Give me a summery.”

Pouting, you monotone, “My wisdom teeth have grown in and it’s making all the rest of my teeth shift and it really hurts so they’re going to knock me out and remove them.”

Your explanation has not eased Grillby’s perplexion at all. “But…why would you grow them in at all just to have them removed?”

You shrug helplessly. “I didn’t choose to grow them in! It’s just a thing human mouths do sometimes!”

“Why?”

“Why does the human body work at all? It’s a mystery, honestly.”

Grillby scrubs at his face. “Okay so…afterwards?”

“Afterwards I’m going to be extremely out of it. The medicine they give you is uh. Well, it depends on the person but usually it makes you really loopy. There’s tons of videos online, I’ll have to show you some.”

“Will you be okay?”

Aw and there he is. The soft and caring boyfriend that you love so much. “Yeah, I’m gonna be fine,” you assure him, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. “I uh, I feel awkward asking but, I’m gonna need a few days to recover and I’d feel better if I was at your place. Please?”

A few sparks lift from his head, the equivalent of silent laughter. “You know that you don’t even need to ask.”

Sheepishly, you look down at your feet. He’s right but anxiety is still twisting at your gut. Whenever you got sick growing up, you didn’t exactly receive a lot of loving care, even though a part of you longed for it. The first time you came down with a cold, Grillby’s constant and gentle attention was almost too much for you and you had hidden under the covers and cried the moment he left the room.

This isn’t quite the same as getting sick but you’re still a little concerned about how you’re going to act after the procedure. But you’re going to need help, that much you’re sure of and there’s no one you trust more than him. “Just a warning, I really have no idea how I’m going to act after the surgery. I had a friend in high school that bit her mom when she tried to change the gauze.”

“Gauze?”

“Oh, it’s a sort of cotton sponge. To soak up the excess blood.”

He pales to green at that. But he quickly shakes his head. “I’ll be fine, it’s not like you could hurt me if you bit me.”

“Don’t I know it.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, blushing. “Anyway, I’m more than happy to take care of you.”

That stupid, choking emotion is already grabbing hold of you, so you hug him tightly, pressing your face into his chest. “Just warning you, I take no responsibility for my post-surgery actions.”

He scoffs quietly. “I think I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

~~~~

The surgery center is bustling with activity. You rub anxiously at your thumb, the soothing motion doing very little to calm your building nerves. Grillby puts a hand on your knee. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs. The assurance is a little less effective thanks to the anxious green and white flashing across his face.

“GRILLBY IS RIGHT HUMAN!” Papyrus’ voice booms over the hushed murmuring of the waiting room. Every head turns towards him and he waves his hands enthusiastically. “THOUGH I MUST ADMIT, IT SEEMS A HUGE OVERSIGHT IN THE HUMAN DESIGN FOR THESE ‘WISDOM TEETH’ TO CAUSE SUCH A COMMON PROBLEM!”

Grillby, for all of his support, only has his rarely used motorcycle sitting in the skeleton brother’s garage. Seeing as how you wouldn’t be in any shape to drive after the surgery, you had reached out to those with licenses and cars for a lift. Papyrus had responded so eagerly and loudly that you simply couldn’t turn him down. He did have a sweet car after all.

In the seat next to him, Sans scuffs his foot against the worn linoleum. He looks far more uncomfortable than Papyrus, but he had insisted on coming along. At first, you had been touched that he cared enough to help out.

Then he had pulled a camcorder out of his pocket.

He turns it on you now, little red light blinking. “any final words before enlightenment?”

You fix the camera with a stare. “If I don’t come out of there, I want my full tab transferred to Sans.”

“GRILLBY! YOUR GIRLFRIEND HAS A TAB?” Papyrus tuts loudly and Grillby sighs.

A nurse steps out from the door leading into the back of the facility. She calls your name and your heart leaps into your throat. You scramble to grab Grillby’s hand and give it a final squeeze as you stand and hand off your bag. “Well, see you on the other side I guess?”

Grillby nods, still rather pale.

“GOOD LUCK HUMAN! YOU’RE GOING TO BE FINE!”

“that’s the tooth.”

“UGH!”

You follow the nurse back into a room that smells strongly of disinfectant and climb into the chair. You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be just fine, it’s a common surgery, nothing’s going to-

The nurse, smiling gently, sticks the needle attached to an IV in your arm and tears immediately start pouring down your face.

You! Hate! Needles!

It’s a few minutes later when the doctor comes in to find you still sniffling. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You try to smile, blubbering out, “I j-just don’t l-like needles is all, I’m f-fine!”

He smiles gently and gives your shoulder a pat. “You don’t need to worry, everything-”

His voice suddenly warps and fades away as his hand suddenly shifts to a gentle push. Without being really aware of falling, you suddenly find yourself floating along a river. It’s cool and pleasant to the touch. When you look at it, it shimmers like gold and you realize that it’s not water at all but golden coins carrying you along and oh, this is actually kind of nice! The river rocks you with a gentle motion and you could almost fall asleep, cradled in the gentle hold of gold which actually, that’s a little strange now that you think about it but oh, thinking is hard right now and everything just feels so warm and nice…

“…op rocking okay?”

You blink blearily. The river of gold is gone but the rocking continues. It’s nice. Everything is so nice!

“Shore, you have to stop rocking, okay? You’re going to make yourself dizzy.”

You’re already dizzy! You’re gonna keep rocking cause it feels nice!

There’s a blurred figure in front of you, holding a patch of white. “Here, wipe your eyes,” the garbled voice continues.

Oh! You’re crying still! Huh, that’s weird! You reach for what you assume is a tissue and miss. The figure takes your hand and places the tissue in your palm and the tears rush out even faster. “Fank you, fat’s so nice!”

“You’re welcome Shore.”

You lift the tissue to your face and miss your eyes, dabbing your mouth instead.

You’re not sure how long you sit there, watching the blurred shapes of people moving back and forth. It’s nice to just sit and rock. Eventually though, another lady-oh she’s so pretty, that’s so nice!- approaches you with a wheelchair and helps you ease into it.

You’re wheeled down a hallway and you wave at the blurry figures passing by. What nice people, taking care of you like this!

You hear a whoosh of automatic doors opening. The cool air of the surgery center gives way to sunny warmth. You turn your face to it, smiling blissfully.

The nurse brings you to a stop. “Okay Shore, here’s your ride,” she says in a bright and cheerful voice.

You look forward, delightfully surprised to see Grillby, Sans and Papyrus standing there. Oh that’s right, they’re here to take you home! You point, “Look, thaaaaaat’s my boyfriend!” you crow proudly.

“Oh wow, that’s awesome!” the nurse answers. She helps you to stand and fortunately keeps her hand on you because your legs don’t bother buckling; they simply refuse to work, and you nearly slide to the ground before she catches you.

“uh…doc is she actually ok to leave?”

“Oh yes, she’s fine, here you are.” The nurse hauls you up and pushes you forward into Grillby’s arms. He’s so warm! This is so nice!

You snuggle into the warmth, humming happily.

“…ore? ….kay?”

“PERHAPS WE…CAR…MEDICINE!”

Their voices dip in and out but you’re too concerned with keeping your face pressed against Grillby’s chest to really listen because good heck he smells amazing.

You blink again as Grillby very gently pries you off him and guides you into the car. The moment you sit down, a wave of exhaustion takes over and you close your eyes, thumping your head back against the headrest. If the Earth would stop swirling that would be wonderful.

Your head rolls loosely when you feel the warmth of Grillby’s body next to yours. Your eyes feel like they’ve got sandbags attached to them, but you slowly peel them open.

Oh no, he looks so concerned! He’s pale green, very gently cupping your cheek with his hand. Smiling as best as you can with your mouth currently crammed with fluffy clouds, you reach for his cheek, miss, and bap him in the center of his face.

“I’m okay!” Your voice sounds funny, all stuffed up and slurring. “Don’t…don’t cry, okay?”

“I’m not crying.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I won’t.”

“you’re the one who’s crying, tibia honest.”

You pull your gaze away from Grillby to Sans. He’s in the front passenger seat, mostly turned around to look back at you. He’s got that camcorder going. “Why didnja use your phone? It has a…a, a camera y’know.”

“i do know but let’s not talk about me. how’re ya feeling?”

“Good!” you slur brightly. And it’s the truth! You’re still feeling super floaty and stuff. It’s nice. “This stuff’s like maaaaagic.”

“magic huh?”

“Mmmyup! Am I still crying?”

“YES, IT’S ACTUALLY QUITE DISGUSTING,” Papyrus chimes in from the driver’s seat.

Disgusting?! You’re disgusting!?

“aw paps, you made her cry again.”

Papyrus looks back at you through the rearview mirror. “I’M SORRY SHORE! IT’S A HUMAN THING, NOT A ‘YOU’ THING!”

That’s…that’s fair. “Yanno what’s…what’s gross they, they puta thing in my nose and like, I was crying, and stuff and the snot got all caught in the tubes. It was groooss.”

Sans has a hand over his mouth and his shoulders are quivering a little. “oh my god this is amazing.”

“S’not amazing…” Hey, you made a pun. “Heh, snot.” You giggle and choke a little.

“you ok?”

You hum, leaning on Grillby’s arm. “I’m…good. Where’re we going?”

“THE DOCTOR TOLD US TO GET YOU A MILKSHAKE WHEN WE GET YOUR MEDICINE! IT’LL HELP YOUR CHEEKS TO NOT BE SO PUFFED UP.”

Oh right. Yeah, that’s the usual thing to do after stuff like this. Right? “I gotta stay on liquids and stuff. ‘Member that!” You poke Grillby. “No chewing stuff. Cause like, I’m all…” You pat your swollen cheeks lightly. “Nuh uh.”

You can hear Sans doing his best to muffle his cackling.

Looking back up at Grillby, you say, “You got the good stuff right? Lotta…lotta um….”

Grillby runs his hand over your head. “Soups and ice cream and jello.”

“What about pudding?”

He frowns. “You told me you don’t like pudding.”

“Oh yeah! I don’t really like pudding. Well, the chocolate stuff’s okay. But not banana. It’s gross.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You nod, contented. “And…where are we going?”

“To get your medicine and the milkshake.”

“Oh yeah.” You smack your lips together a few times. They’re starting to buzz and tingle. “There’s bees in my mouth.”

That draws a huge bark of laughter from Sans. “bees?”

“Mmmhmm.” The tingling brings with it the feeling of bubbles. You’re not leaking blood, are you? You don’t want to make a mess. “They’re making it bubble. Am I bubbling?” You open your mouth as wide as you can at Grillby, leaning in close.

Somehow, he pales even further. You hear a soft thunk as his head hits the window.

“uh…paps i think grillby just passed out.”

“HE WHAT?”

Sans leans into the back a little bit more. “hey bud, lemme see your mouth.”

You oblige him, opening up. “Is there blood? Am I bubbling?”

He makes a face. “yeah, that’s uh…that’s getting kinda nasty. Maybe you shouldn’t talk so much?”

Your lip quivers a little, more tears spilling down. “’m sorry.”

“ah, no, it’s fine, don’t cry uh…here.” He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a rumpled napkin. “it’s clean so uh, maybe wipe up a little before grillbz wakes up?”

You take the napkin. “Sans you’re so n-nice and Paps you are too. You guys are the best.” You dab at your lip, or what you hope is your lip and look to Grillby. His eyes are shut. “Is he taking a nap?”

Sans snorts. “something like that.”

You poke Grillby. You wanna ask him…something. You can’t remember what actually. Maybe what he needs is a kiss to wake him up, like Snow White. You try to lean over to him, but the seatbelt stops you. You fumble with it, whining quietly. Since you can’t seem to figure it out, you settle for kissing your finger and pressing it against his cheek.

He stirs. It worked! “I’m Prince Freaking Charming,” you say proudly to San’s camera.

“yeah ya are.”

Grillby sits up, looking so utterly confused that you start snorting, which makes you choke and sputter on the bubbling sensation in your mouth. “You don’t like the sighta blood huh?”

“No, I really don’t,” he says faintly.

“Walking Dead eat your heart out!” you crow, sticking your bloody tongue out.

Grillby groans loudly and hunches over, head in his hands. “Please don’t do that.”

“You big baby. When we get to…” You look back to Sans. “Where’re we going?”

“to get a milkshake.”

“Yeah! When we, we get to the milkshake, you can get one too to make you feel better.” You pat his back.

“Thanks.”

“You’re sooooo welcome!” You lean on his back, head resting on his shoulder. “I love ya so much. So, so much.”

He tinges blue and takes your hand. “I love you too.”

“Am I a good person?”

“One of the best.”

You giggle quietly, eyes slipping shut. Maybe it’s time to take a little nap before you get to…wherever it is that you’re going. “You’re a good person too,” you murmur. He says something in return but you don’t catch it, already slipping away into unconscious bliss.

~~~~~~

It takes you many hours and several naps to completely come out of the haze of post-surgery. Most of that time is just a blur, though you do recall Grillby nearly passing out again when he helped to change the bloody gauze out of your mouth. Papyrus had stepped in, loudly tutting and complaining about how Grillby should have a stronger stomach given how much greasy food he works around.

When you finally wake up for good, that wonderfully light feeling is gone, replaced by an awful heaviness that makes it hard to even form a coherent thought, let alone move. You’re on Grillby’s bed, propped up by many pillows and blankets. Grillby himself is just visible through the open doorway. At your low groan, he quickly puts down whatever he was doing and comes to your side.

“Hey,” he says gently, taking your hand. “How are you feeling?”

You blink slowly and blearily. “Like I got hit by a train. How do I look?”

“Like you got hit by a train,” he says, grinning weakly.

“…Did you pass out in the car or did I imagine that?”

He ignores that, which you take to mean that yes, yes that did happen, and instead says, “Do you feel up to some broth?”

“Not really but sure,” you breathe.

He pats your hand and leaves, returning shortly with a bowl of broth. “It’s not hot,” he says apologetically. “But it shouldn’t hurt this way.”

“Mkay.” You reach up to pull out the gauze and he blanches again. “Wow, big strong elemental really is a baby when it comes to blood.”

“Only when it’s yours.”

Oh, now that’s just sickeningly sweet. “Well good news is I think it’s stopped.”

“Thank the stars.” He takes a seat on the bed and spoons out some broth. Carefully, he spoon feeds you. Normally such a thing would have you red with embarrassment, but at the moment you’re honestly too weak to really care. He’s patient and gentle, never pushing you. He’s…he’s so nice and good to you and-!

You sniffle. He flashes pale, pulling the spoon back. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

You shake your head, blinking out tears. “You’re just so nice to me and I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Oh, hey, hey it’s okay.” He sets the bowl down on the table and climbs into the bed next to you, very carefully pulling you into his arms. “Of course you deserve it.”

You lean against him, letting the gentle warmth of his soak into your aching body. “No, I don’t.”

“You do. And I’m going to keep being nice to you, even if you don’t think you deserve it.”

“Cause you love me?”

He smiles and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Because I love you.”

“Even with the blood and big old chipmunk cheeks?”

“Especially with the chipmunk cheeks.”

You chuckle quietly, closing your eyes and letting yourself bask in the security of Grillby’s embrace.

#grillby/reader #undertale #sans #papyrus #shore #OoF extra #shorby #hey it's some good old illness/comfort!#except it's a dental procedure not illness #but close enough #a lot of this is very heavily based on my own wisdom tooth experience

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hey-hamlet · 5 years

Text

BNHA AU Ideas: Child of Fate (Parts 1 and 2)

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:

Chosen by the Fates for his many monumental futures, Izuku is gifted a 'quirk' at the age of 5. The ability to see and influence the strings of fate.

He will become a Hero.

But fate does not smile upon a hero any more than it smiles upon a worm.

basically, the 3 fates from norse myths are still kicking

w all the crazy shit that's gone on since the rise of quirks, fates are constantly getting harder and harder to predict or manipulate so they are kinda out of a job

so they say "fuck it, lets throw our hat in the ring" and decide to pick a "champion" of sorts

out of everyone, there is one child that sticks out a lot. he's plain-looking, but every future he's in is incredible. he's not always a good person, but he always brings about change of some sort, for reasons he believes are good ones

and they look at this child with his shining fate and think "this one"

bc the fates know what it's like to be jerked around by the universe, they ask him

"this is a deal we've done before, but we'll give more to you. trade us an eye and our powers will be yours to wield as your quirk, all we ask is that you live up to your fate"

they do the deal, the 4-year-old izuku gives up the sight of one of his eyes for the power of the fates

the quirk is registered as "all the odds" aka: he can see the odds of a certain thing happening

but that's not his quirk. he can see the strings of fate, follow them to see the different future outcomes, or pull at them, making some options more likely than others

the only person he tells the full details of his quirk to is Katsuki, bc the fates tell him he literally always tells Katsuki in the end, and it'll "save a lot of trouble", not that he knows that

Katsuki is very excited to know he becomes a top hero, but he makes Izuku promise that he won't change his future bc he wants to make it there alone

also, the major downside of izukus quirk? he can't see his own fate

and the futures he sees are only as complete as the information he has

ie, he could witness kamino ward, but the future wouldn't show afo or mini might beyond a vague blob

anyway izuku gets teased for his lame quirk for a bit, then stops bc everyone who teases him gets weirdly bad luck

its the fates, they love their baby champion and he said no killing people

but people who are good to him get good luck, so he's got the nickname cat, for black cat and lucky cat!

anyway, episode one kinda happens normalishhh, but he doesn't ask if he can be a hero, because he's going to be a hero, he doesn't care what anyone says, he will be

but when he sees all mights strings of fact he gets a really weird look at them, because something unnatural is holding one of them above the others. so he asks "who tried to seal your fate?" bc he has no brain to mouth filter

and all might, understandably, is confused by this tiny boy asking him a very very weird question

he doesn't even get a chance to go tiny before izuku does dead pale, and whispers "shit" allmight poofs tiny, izuku looks at him, yells "I WONT SAY ANYTHING" and running jumps off the roof. all might coughs up a lung but the kid was 'lucky' and stuck the landing

basically, w the appearance of the sludge villain, the weird fate he saw for katsuki that morning suddenly made a whole lot more sense

the fates guide him to katsuki as fast as they can, he arrives there just before allmight

anyway izuku is calling out for katsuki and lays eyes on someone in the sludge, he doesnt see who it is, he doesnt see their fate. he sees that flash of a hand reaching out for help and he's already leapt over the barrier

he grabs a bit of rubble from the ground and throws it at the villain's eyes, nails him right in the fucking eye, gets katsuki half out. but the villain is baring down again and its all izuku can do to try to keep katsuki's mouth free

allmight saves them

anyway, when izuku is walking home all might pops out of fucking nowhere and gives izuku a heart attack

"I SAID I WONT TELL ANYONE PLEASE DONT HURT ME MR ALL MIGHT SIR"

"KID NO WAIT"

does the: you are so stupidly heroic, do you want to be a hero?, izuku says: i sure fucking do

“whats ur quirk”

"oh funny that its,,, its a little weird."

"oh?"

"i can,,,, see and influence the strings of fate"

"oH THATS WHY YOU SAID THAT WEIRD THING"

"wait yoU JUST THoUghT I wAs CRAZY?"

",,,,, people say weird things around me ok"

anyway all might basically says "ur crazy, your quirk is cool, take one for all."

and izuku says "OK YEAH"

all might asks a little how izuku was going to get into the hero course and he just pauses

"you know i was wondering about that but the fates told me id be fine." they both pause, staring at each other "wait,,, did they,,," "the fates totally knew huh"

anyway he eye glow when he use the fates quirk

all might sees izuku and he's like,,,, its baby nighteye

he honestly, for a hot minute, thinks nighteye might be izukus dad

bc like; green hair, gold eyes (well, eye), smart, analytic? thats nighteye baby

all might asks lowkey like "oh you don't talk much ab ur dad huh?" and izuku explains he doesn't know the guy. all might mentally tells off nighteye for having a child and ditching the mother

todoroki’s question literally is "are you all might and nighteye's illegitimate love child"

and izuku, who has no filter, blinks and responds with

"who said i was illegitimate"

anyway, back to the training

izuku who has been training to be a hero forever is pretty damn fit for a kid, but hes not one for all fit

anyway katsuki is like "izuku why are u following an old man around is he a pedo, and izuku wheezes like "NO OH MY GOD KASTUKI NO" and he explains like,,, a little of it

"like so i might have a strength quirk now too"

"izuku what the fuck why are you so op"

"im sorry katsuki im just better than you l m a o"

"COME HERE U LITTLE S H I T E"

so a brief overview of his quirk:

he gave an eye to use it so one of his eyes is just like,,, white. the whole thing is white. bc,,, its not really a quirk lmao,,,

anyway: he can view the future as much as he wants, it just takes some time, if he wants to take a quick look he doesn't need to stop paying attention, but its two slow and branching to be used like nighteye's in a fight (think like doctor strange in infinity war)

unlike nighteye, he has a third-person view of the events in question, and has,, some sounds? not many. mostly like breaking shit or oneliners he's heard before

changing the future, however, is more difficult by a long way

viewing the future has no real cost other than the fact he's not paying total attention at the time

changing the future, however, causes pain

nerve pain proportional to the change. little things, like flipping a coin heads? to make it more likely, its like a prick of the finger. to make it a 100% chance its like badly stubbing your toe. to change something big, like to move where a blow hits, feels like your arms have been plunged into burning oil. to change something massive, like, to stop something that was almost certain to happen, can cause enough pain to not only render him unconscious but can cause nerve damage leaving him with chronic pain/numbness/lack of function

the pain is normally in his arms bc its izuku and he break he arm

anyway! bc he was fitter and caught a glimpse of gran yelling at him about something called full cowl in the future + he cleaned the beach faster, he has like 2% full cowl for the entrance exam and had the quirk 2 months beforehand

katsuki avoids izuku for the day literally bc he doesn't want izuku to know if he passed before he did. which,,, is fair. he does explain this too so there isn't any random angst, izuku is just nervous

(oh also he can see the fate of someone he's looking at, he can change the fate of an event he's already seen to a different option he's already seen)

so we get the ochako bit, plus a bit of comedy bc katsuki is in a fucking beanie and sunglasses so izuku doesnt recognise him

he totally does but he doesn't say anything bc he's trying real hard

so izuku is kicking some ass in the exam and the bAMN 0 pointer like a fucking b a s t a r d hes like "what's the chances of this thing just like,,, breaking" and unfortunately they are v e r y low

so he is like "well i guess it's punchy time"

but before he gets there he sees a piece of rubble about to hit ochako. and he sees there isn't a small chance of it crushing her leg, so he changes the odds of that and gets a lovely few seconds of burning pain for his trouble

(he’s,,, pretty used to it by now so the boy has a scary pain tolerance)

bc he doesn't want to break his poor arms he jumps up the sides of the robot and tears out some wiring in the back and they start to fall

and he's like "oh shit the chance of my getting hurt is pretty high huh i should change that too" and ochako saves him with her quirk

and then he has a bit of a horrifying realisation while he's trying not to cry from pain

because

his quirk never changed the actions of other people before. ofa made it stronger

but, as he is now understanding, that hurts like a motherfucker, and his not-eye burns too and boy that's really unpleasant

this is another au where shinsou gets in on rescue points from saving katsukis ass + using him to save someone else

katsuki is a little salty but hes like "yeah tbh i really wouldn't have saved them alone, its fine" and then forces him to meet izuku bc hes still a total quirk nerd

izuku drags them + ochako out for ramen bc hes celebrating. shinsou is like "its a little early to celebrate getting in" and izuku just turns looking a lil confused "no im celebrating surviving the exam"

ok so, first day its wild

izuku's quirk is listed as "lucky punch" aka he can see odds and he's strong and no he doesn't know why stop looking at him like that

izuku and katsuki walked to school together bc they are baby and secretly nervous

izuku doesnt really look at katsuki's future all that often bc he doesn't like it, no real deal w izukus quirk he just wants to be successful by himself. so izuku, who can't look into his own future, has no idea how this day is going to go

they rock up to class, get inside and aizawa shows up, izuku has a brief heart attack, the quirk assessment starts. this time aizawa doesnt even have like a problem w izuku he's just trying to prove a point ab them being little baby heroes and sucking ass and izuku looked nice enough not to be mad about it for the rest of the year

so aizawa erases his quirk which, fair and izuku is confused and trying to use it

both of them

but

erasure didn't touch the fate quirk

so when he turns to look at aizawa he gets a face full of the USJ incident and he goes dead pale. aizawa is a touch confused but continues his whole thing, gives izuku his quirk back. he's still shaking. he throws the ball, it goes,,, less than it could have but far enough to be impressive

izuku stands next to katsuki shaking while they wait for the test to end. shinsou and uraraka are kinda distressed and all 3 of them are angry at aizawa even if they have no idea why. izuku bolts from the field right after and throws up in the bathrooms, followed by a quick panic attack. he was so freaked he was using ofa to get there so now uraraka, katsuki and shinsou are trying to find the boy

and aizawa is faintly confused

shinsou finds him first, shaking and sick in the bathroom. he grabs shinsou by the arm and says "staffroom, now." shinsou, who really doesn't know what's going on but is 100% shook, takes him there. he basically has to half carry izuku there bc he can't support himself

they get there and izuku knocks saying "i need to speak to yagi-san, now." and he sounds so scared and the whole office jumps bc why does a kid know allmights name, and all might jumps bc what happened to his boy

so he rushes out, grabs izuku and hurries him into a private office aizawa gives shinsou a look and shinsou just glares at him lmao bc its his fault izuku is like this. even though,, he's not really sure how

anyway, through sobs, izuku explains what he saw

and all might feels sick bc his boy didn't need to see all of that horrific violence, see his teachers torn to shreds and crushed to bits while the other students watch on helplessly

nezu doesn't know the extent of izukus quirk, mostly just because they didn't think ab telling him. they tell him now

aizawa is brought in to see smallmight trying to comfort his poor shaking student, who looks up and him and flinches and aizawa is like "ok guys the fuck did i do" nezu explains and then aizawa feels like a right dick to be honest, not that it was really anyone's fault

then the horrifying implications of "villains inside UA" sinks in and he's suddenly very on edge. now, izukus quirk isn't 100%. he had such a brief look at the vision he doesn't even know how likely it is. and while he offers to take a better look, its clear he really, really doesn't want to, so they all basically say

"right. so. we should probably be pretty careful tomorrow, huh?"

so when the usj attack starts, they have all might with his full 3 hours, mic, aizawa, and 13, w other heroes on standby, they hope, hope, that this wasn't very likely

but

they were wrong.

they were basically praying that the villains wouldn't make it into the usj

they've already altered the fate izuku saw by bringing allmight from the start, and present mic

but its not enough

the villains arrive and shigiraki is angry from the beginning, two unlisted teachers are waiting for them. shigiraki is childish but he's not stupid. he looks at the only child truly rattled, already protecting his friends, and he thinks he's found the cheater

they may not know the children's quirks, but present mic? 13? they know those quirks very well. mic is warped to the ruin zone, too unstable to freely use his quirk. kurogiri sends bakugo, kirishima and jirou after him

All Might is warped right to the nomu, kurogiri and shigiraki on standby for support. 13 has been taken out, aizawa is fighting through the villains to get to the nomu, to maybe offer some support to all might. he doesn't go after mic. he has to believe mic can handle himself or he'll break down where he stands.

izuku is warped to the shipwreck zone. alone. from a quick look at the future, the fates for anyone warped with him were grizly. he is confident in his choice to stop anyone from warping with him. he's ignoring the steadily climbing number of futures where he alone meets a terrible end

he's missing so much information on the villains every future he sees is hazy at best. all he knows is that if he doesn't get off this boat, aizawa gets hurt and that's not something he can abide

he busts the fuel tanks, letting the flammable liquid float across the water. he drops a match. in the chaos, he uses as much of ofa as he dares to jump to the shore. he steadfastly ignores the smell of burning meat.

he is one the opposite shoreline to canon, approaching the fight from the side, rather than the front. aizawa is hurt, battered from various villains, bleeding sluggishly from a headwound. he looks dazed

4 of shigiraki's fingers are wrapped around his neck

all might is at a standstill. if he strikes against the nomu, shigiraki will put his thumb down. he stands there and takes blow after blow, smile long gone from his face

izuku looks at the strings of Aizawa's fate. so many end here in so many ways.

he pushes his quirk into getting shigiraki away from his teacher. without direction, he's just baring against his quirk, begging it to give him a chance.

it does.

the bright flash of an explosive blonde draws the eyes of kurogiri and shigiraki. he uses the moment of distraction to launch towards his teacher, yanking him from shigiraki's hand. he loses a large chunk of skin for his trouble

all might defeats the nomu, but hes not looking good

bakugo, a limping mic, dazed aizawa, battered all might and bleeding izuku are the last stand, all praying the other students are ok.

iida did not escape

they have no backup coming.

shigiraki is fuming, but kurogiri can see the heroes are flagging. izuku is putting his all into his quirk, trying to give them all a lucky break

for the second time, it comes through

the rest of the students run towards them, joining them shoulder to shoulder. all of them are scared, some are hurt, but none of them are going to lay down and let shigiraki win. the villains escape

izuku falls

damages:

aizawa has a concussion + post-concussion syndrome. he has chronic migraines for the next year, and trouble with his long term memory for a few months

izuku is suffering from massive quirk overuse, his hands don't feel 'right' again for weeks

all might has lost only 20 minutes, but it's time he'd rather have

mic broke an ankle, but it's quickly fixed. Still, it aches from time to time

the other students had mild cuts/bruises and were left shaken

aizawa cries that night. a mix of the head injury, his hurt students, the look of fear he saw in their eyes. he holds mic and he sobs

izuku and his mother had a real relationship breakdown when she tore down his dream, even when izuku got a 'quirk' it never recovered. they don't talk. he doesn't tell her what happened. she doesn't find out.

izuku wanders the city the next day, unwilling to explain why he had no school today. he runs into mic who takes one look at this shaken student, outside and unprotected, and basically kidnaps the guy

izuku is forcibly dragged to the place mic/shinsou/aizawa share

when shinsou and aizawa find out izuku's mother basically just sent him off to school, not taking a day off work? they go full protective mode. shinsou wraps him up in the biggest blanket they own, grabs his own and forces izuku to play videogames with him on the couch. aizawa fumes in the kitchen over a cup of hot chocolate, mic fumes with him honestly

so, izukus kinda a mess, never tells his mother anything, etc, aizawa kidnapped him and he and shinsou played video games. izuku didn't go home that night, he just hopped on a train and rode it until it was time to go to UA

so when they get back everyone is just glad so see izuku alive tbh

so, sports festival! its a lot like canon

izuku doesn't use his fate quirk to change the future, but he does look at the possible futures and he sees that iida never makes it to the podium. he thinks for a second and makes a horrible realisation

the hero killer is in hosu

iida's brother is in hosu

iida’s brother is a hero

just before the event starts he finds aizawa and he's pale already

he gets out 'i need to see allmight' and aizawa gets a horrible feeling because last time this kid was worried they all almost died, so they run to find all might. seeing aizawa run around with a concerned look on his face? the stuff of nightmares at UA. everyone practically dives out of their way

izuku tells all might who swears a blue streak and pulls some strings to get extra heroes in hosu. izuku doesn't breathe a word to iida, because he just can't. not only does iida not know about the fate quirk, he can't scare him like that

bakugo knows something is wrong, but izuku won't breathe a word so he lets it lie

anyway, todoroki does his lil speech and izuku is honestly too burnt out to be intimidated, he sees his own death daily during just casual use of his quirk. boi ain't scared of much. bakugo gets pissy bc "FUCK YOU HALF AND HALF THAT'S MY RIVAL" and basically all of 1A is trying to claim izuku as their rival, either out of admiration or the desire to annoy bakugo

so izuku has to give the speech. which he's not happy ab because p e o p l e

and also because well,,, he's got no one at home to watch him

his speech basically goes along the lines of "we are here to fight fate. the odds are against us but we will win no matter what. not because it's easy, but because we have to. no matter what course we are in, we are all at this school fighting for a better future, for ourselves, our loved ones and the world. it doesn't matter if the odds aren't in your favour - the chance of any of us being here to see this moment is so small it may as well be impossible. its nothing to beat those odds again."

and everyone is like "owo how inspirational" but like anyone who knows him sees,,, layers

aizawa sees the bitterness about the USJ

all might sees izuku reducing his fight to be a hero as a quirk of fate, reducing his own involvement to 'it could have happened to anyone' when thats not true, because he is special

katsuki sees the bitterness that even though he had a good quirk, people tried to grind him into dust because he couldn't talk about it.

if inko was watching, she'd see how badly she betrayed her son

#bnha au #child of fate au #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #aizawa shouta #midoriya #bnha #All Might #Toshinori Yagi #aizawa #eraserhead #Izuku #bakugo #Iida Tenya

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zedecksiew · 4 years

Text

d100 Adventure Beginnings

Feeling anxious, indoors because of the Covid-19 quarantine, I adapted an idea from Khairani Barokka and asked Twitter to give me emojis.

I’d turn these emoji into oddities, instigations, opening to adventure.

Guess I wanted to travel? In my head, far afield. It took the weekend, but it made me happy. There were many, many typos, but I visited a hundred different microcosms, with a hundred different persons.

Original thread begins HERE; tweets in the thread were tagged / attributed.

d100 ADVENTURE BEGINNINGS

1. 🥐 The sandwich comes to you via delivery. You unwrap the foil as the quadrotor buzzes away. There's something in your sandwich, between tempe patties -an oil-stained slip of card. "Come alone," it says. There is a street address. ~

2. [Photograph of a vine tendril] Watering the garden, you see your morning glory stir.

Its tendrils uncoil. Its vines unclench, recede. Knot in on themselves, twine into thin limbs.

They let go of your fence. They have a face. Flower eyes: two purple trumpet blossoms. They offer a hand to shake.

3. [Italian flag] Morning ritual: put coffee on, wash face, check phone. Twitter takes a half-hour.

You smell burning. Coffee! Your moka pot is now sooty, long past hissing. A man stands next to it, made of steam.

"Salve," the steam ghost says, tipping his steam cap.

4. 🕯️ A warm night. The air is still. The candle flickers in your partner's face. She is checking her wallet. Slips it in her pocket as the candle dies.

"Ah!" she says, in darkness. "So over this power cut."

Time to get more candles.

5. 🔧 This is a *great* spot to get a flat: Lonely road, no streetlights, trees knitting their branches overhead. You shiver. You hate that you shiver. You're an adult. You make noise to assert this. The jack clunks on the ground. "Darling?" somebody whispers.

6. 🦚 "Make way for Lady Lerna!" cries the page, swinging his censer. Behind him a dozen men bear a gilded litter.

Laughter. Ringed fingers part the curtains. A powdered dowager wearing a cartwheel ruff of peacock eyes peers out. She holds her nose.

You hate her.

7. 🐷 Suckling pig. Its split-jaw-ed head faces you. You have never been more aware of an animal corpse.

Goldteeth Liu sips his cognac and asks: "Hey boy, why you not eating? My food not good enough for you is it?

"You feel sweat on your chest, where the wire is.

8. 👻 An ordinary corridor. Sconces, faded wallpaper, a painting.

"Behind the painting," a voice says.

A button behind the painting. Press it. The wall goes click. A crack appears.

"Now can I go?"

You unspool your spell, and the spirit leaves for her afterlife.

9. 🎲 The dice land. "Nine! Woo!" She moves her token, counting every space with a smack.

"What's with you?" they ask her.

"What you mean?" she giggles. She never did know how to play it cool. But she doesn't have to. Under the table, she puts her feet in your lap.

10. 🦷 When you took this assignment, they gave you two false molars:

The one in your right cheek is a transmitter -- a signal for Ops to start the evacuation; The one in your left is a cyanide pill, in case of capture.

Or was it the other way around?

Shit.

11. 🐉 From heaven a serpentine form, golden and gleaming. Growling like thunder ground out of the earth.

Descending, approaching --

But getting no bigger? Is it shrinking?

It is in front of you, now. It is as big as your forearm -- no, your finger.

"Bite me," it squeaks.

12. 🍞 The curfew has gone on for months. You have survived through food shortages, power cuts, rumours of civil unrest.

But now you are in trouble. Now, you enter your second trimester. Now, you crave.

Gardenia white bread.

You will brave cordons to get it.

13. 🧎‍♀️ You are hurrying to your car when somebody calls: "Girl? Girl!"

The voice comes from a red altar under a tree, past the kerb. From a songkok-ed uncle, as tall as your calves.

"Got food ah girl?" the roadside god says. "Two weeks already uncle hasn't eaten."

14. 👀 Someone has been pasting googly eyes on your stuff:

Your mailbox in the lobby; The telephone pole in front of your parking spot; The flower pot on the balcony.

Creepy. "It's not me!" your housemate says.

This morning, you find googly eyes on your forehead.

15. 🔐 The padlock on your front door is broken.

The door swings open onto an empty living room. On the floor: rectangles of dust, where your shelves and cabinets once stood.

As well as a shred of newsprint. "Take this, Mat!" it says.

Your name's not Mat.

16. 🎟️ Pa played the lottery on his birthday. Always with the same numbers: 1406, 2902. Ma's birthday. Yours.

Pa died last week. Yesterday was his birthday. You bought his numbers from the ticket counter.

Today you check the results: "First jackpot: 1406 2902."

17. 🦖 Dusting Dr Khoo's shelves, you accidentally knock over a novelty Tyrannosaurus piggy bank.

It shatters on the parquet floor.

There are ceramic shards, change -- and a passport with Dr Khoo's photo. Under a different name. In Cyrillic script.

Uh oh.

18. 🍳 Eggs in your cast-iron pan -- the last three eggs you have.

Ina: "What are we going to do for protein, now?"

Gan: "We can search the shophouses in town. Or hope to catch a lizard?"

Ina makes a face. You shrug. With your cast-iron pan, you can cook anything.

19. 👻 Knock before you enter a hotel room for the first time. Say: "I'm coming in, okay?" Let its other occupants vacate.

But:You bustled in, dropped the card in its holder, threw your suitcase in the closet, dumped yourself on the bed.

So, now:

Don't look up.

20. 🙆‍♀️ From you balcony, you watch your neighbour in the community playground. She is a dancer. She plays music on portable speakers. She practices pirouettes.

You wish you could work up the courage to talk to her.

She looks up, sees you watching, and waves.

21. 🗝️ "The key will open any lock," the goblin said.

The key feels heavy in your hand. Plain and iron. But when you bring it near the queen's jewellery box it shifts: turns silver and intricate.

A skeleton key!

"The key only works once," the goblin said.

22. 🎥 You don't like the protesters. So naive. And look at how they've spray-painted the street! Anarchists.

The cops charge with riot shields. They are beating protesters --

What are you doing?

You are recording this on your phone.

A cop points his baton at you.

23. 🥳 On your birthday you are surprised at the door. Balloons, food, music to dance to. A party! Laughing, you thank you friends.

"Thank Brian!"

"Brian?" you ask.

"Your cousin Brian?" they say. They point. He smiles and waves back. You don't recognise him.

24. 🤦‍♀️ Your headache gets worse. On day three your vision blurs; you collapse in your bathroom.

You wake to familiar voice: "Hey."

It is your voice. "Don't panic," your doppelganger says. "You're okay." She dried you off, put you in bed. She will not harm you.

25. 🍳 You tried to steal from the Pasha. He is magnanimous, and decided not to behead you. Instead, you will serve him.

You will journey into the wastes. You will brave the fire. You will acquire the Phoenix's egg. The Pasha is a gourmand. He wishes to eat it.

26. 🐙 "Finding the Perihelion Squid is not a problem," your captain says. "It glows in the water."

Sunset. A ray catches your captain's arm and belly, throwing the sucker-shaped burn marks there into textured relief.

"The problem is fighting it," your captain says.

27. 🚦 You stop at the lights. You look at your phone.

Somebody bonks your side-view mirror. "Oi!" you say -- but more people are rushing past. The drivers of the cars in front of you. What are they running from?

Across the intersection, a stampede of water buffalo.

28. ™️ "Breath Easy," the billboard says. A beach panorama, with a white family in the foreground: father, mother, daughter -- all three in pastel shirts. Eyes shut, chins up, smiling.

"VitaOX, premium bottled air," the billboard says. "A Sinochem-McDonald's company."

29. 🦥 The Colossal Ground Sloth is a geographic enormity.

See that hill, blocking our view of the rising sun? That's not a hill. That's a sloth. It sits, seemingly smiling, covered in trees. When it shudders the birds take flight.

Look: it opens its lake-like eyes.

30. 🗽 When the Statue vanishes, America freaks. Who's to blame? Terrorists? SJWs?

Then it turns out the Statue is also missing from all visual media: T-shirts, postcards, patriotic paraphernalia.

The White House settles on its favourite scapegoat -- China.

31. 🧩 The map to the Treasure of Sagely Fu is borne on the back of the Divine Tortoise:

Its scutes represent the 38 provinces of the Empire. Its coloration represents the hills and valleys. When Sagely Fu fought the Tortoise, he kicked a chip-mark into its shell.

32. 💙 The Heart Of Ice is a crystalline fortress, so high above the sea that the sky is twilight and the air freezes you solid.

There rules the Queen, a goddess of pure and alien elements. If you can make Her shed a tear she will grant you your heart's desire.

33. 🌼 The pontianak is a monster -- born when a pregnant woman dies, wronged.

Seeking vengeance, she hunts men. She takes the form of a comely woman. One of her signs is the fragrance of frangipani blossoms.

"Hey," says the bar hostess. She smells of night flowers.

34. 🦊 "My foxies," the witch says. "My vulpies."

In her hut are bones, bones, bones. Piled in a bucket. Mounted on display stands. Sniffing your ankle -- fox skeletons, moving as they did in life.

"Can you do cats?" you ask, nodding to the bundle in your arms.

35. 🥾 The search parties assemble quietly. A trekker is lost on the mountain. Nobody is happy.

"I told him," one of the guides whisper. "I told him. Don't take anything, I said. You don't know whose things you're taking. But I saw him slip a stone into his pocket."

36. 🐬 The pool is still. Park management turns this fountain off at 10pm.

You like walking here, at night. You like the granite dolphins, mid-jump, frozen in time. You toss a coin into the fountain for luck. Clink.

There is a splash. A flash of motion. A fin.

37. 📚 In the book you find a letter, in delicate cursive:

"Dear Emily, Bought this book for your birthday. Which is also Valentine's Day. I will never be able to tell you that I love you. So I will never give this book to you. Sara."

Sara is your mother's name.

38. 🌲 A postcard of evergreens. A landscape you've only seen in photos.

You stash it in a notebook, stuff that in your bag.

"Over here," Michelle says. She grins, shimmies out of a space between leaning shelves. A box of double-A batteries. Meaning: jackpot.

39. 🥡 You bike to the pick-up.

It's a commissary in the middle of an industrial park. The guy at the counter says nothing. Just looks you up and down. He licks his lips.

"What's in this?" you ask, pointing at the takeaway pack.

"Meat," he says. He licks his lips.

40. 🎏 The airships of Vo Langka are fish-shaped.

Carp and arowana are most common -- but advances in aeronautics have made wing-form (ie: stingray-like) aircraft possible.

You are a pilot. Today you will test the first ever flying machine made in imitation of a bird.

41. 🐗 The boar charges your golf cart. The caddy veers onto the green.

Gunshots!

Your bodyguards down the beast. It came from the forest behind the golf course -- the one you've earmarked for clearing.

It's not the only forest creature that wants to murder you.

42. ♻️ Your body slides into the furnace.

Your husband will pick through the ash and bones. Tomorrow he'll take a boat, sail a kilometre out, empty your urn in the sea.

The day after, silver pomfrets will school in a person's shape, and you will see the ocean.

43. ✨ It's a clear night. "Honey?" you call. "Come see!"

She whines -- you are tearing her from her work, she says. You insist. You point up.

Orion and the Dipper, the soft shine of the sickle moon.

"Wanna go for a walk?" you ask. She slips her arm into yours.

44. ✒️ The auto-pen you own is old. Picks up too much background chatter. The newer pens have noise-cancelling wards.

See? You've stopped dictating, but the pen is still writing:

"NO AH NO IT MOTHER PLEASE IT HURTS MAKE IT STOP"

Hell's not a good muse.

45. 🌌 The transitcraft trembles as it descends on its pillar of plasma.

"Sorry you didn't make it," the pilot says. "Cosmofleet is not for everyone." He's trying to be kind. This does not help.

He leaves you on the pad. Here you are, with packed bags, back home.

46. 🤫 The librarian drags you under the counter, pale with terror.

You hear the tread of the logovore. The meaning-eater. Books impaled on its spines -- leeched of their ink, their substance, going see-through, disappearing.

It does that to humans, too.

47. 🍥 You spit the fish cake out. From surprise, really. Because it is candy.

A confection of flour, sugar, pink food colouring, floating next to beef slices, on the oily surface of the noodles you ordered.

The kitchen makes you a new bowl. The chef is baffled.

48. 🛰️ Satellites no longer obey us.

Meteorology reverts to fortune-telling. Intelligence becomes earth-bound. Defense satellites play games of laser tag.

Broadcasting ends -- well, not really. When you turn on your TV it tells you: CALL YOUR MOTHER SHE MISSES YOU.

49. 🌿 Where you buried your cat, something is already growing:

A fresh stem of basil, putting out its mild scent; its green, convex leaves.You pluck a leaf, put it in your mouth. Your cat jumps into your lap. You feel her scrape your finger with her tongue.

50. 🐸 The Weed Toad sprouts spiky fur filled with chlorophyll. Basically: it's a frog with grass on its back. It can be a pest.

When you step into your garden something squeaks.The toad jumps away, incensed. Its siblings hop off, too. Your whole lawn, leaving you.

51. 👾 Pixel Goblins are voxeloids, walking about in waking life. Refugees from a reality whose servers shut down two years ago.

They eat electricity. They line the sidewalk. "Hungry," the Pixel Goblin says. She looks at your phone, hopeful.

You have 11% battery left.

52. ✴️ "I am chaos!" the boy shrieks. "A conduit of magick!"

You can hear that hard "k" from here. Baldie in an Invisibles tee and factory-distressed jeans, thinks he knows magic? Please.

Then he pisses on your headstone. Which is rude. So you possess him.

53. 👣 Footprints, made with oil. They cut across the driveway, onto the grass, leaving rainbow sludge on some clovers. They turn the corner of your house.

You turn the corner, too.

In front of you, the prints have stopped, side by side. Their toes now face you.

54. 🐷 In the middle of his emergency pandemic address, during a live broadcast, on national television --

The Prime Minister oinks.

He blinks. Clears his throat, looks at the teleprompter -- and oink-oink-oinks.

The PM's eyes blink tears. Then the broadcast cuts out.

55. 🌙 Can we trust the moon?

See its phases -- the way it goes from a bright circle, wanes into a crescent, shuts completely, then opens again, waxing half into full --

Like a creature blinking: slowly, ever so slowly.

The moon has not looked directly at us. Yet.

56. 🌺 You tuck a hibiscus in her hair. "It's pretty!" you say, before she reacts. "Plus it's patriotic."

She rolls her eyes.

Day after the party she wants to meet you. That makes you happy. She's not happy. The flower's driven a root into flesh, behind her ear.

57. 🍜 This bowl of noodles, made from soup powder, desiccated ramen, the last remaining tomato in the fridge, one overcooked egg --

It's the most delicious thing you've ever tasted.

This shouldn't be possible. You cry. You'll never have anything this good again.

58. 🥦 "This," Mother says. "This needs to be half-size."

You know this moment. The kitchen was never your thing. You made an excuse and left to play videogames in your room. Two days later Mother died. Car accident.

This time you stay. You cut the floret in two.

59. 🌵 The Blood Prickle's blossom is prized by cities that border the Pebble Sea. Dried, smoked, its fume delivers accurate prophecies.

The Blood Prickle only blossoms when watered by the viscera of living creatures. You lead your herd of sheep into the desert.

60. 🕸️ The bungalow is covered in gossamer, like a suitcase shrink-wrapped at the airport. Shreds stick to you, glue.

"Go away!" the bungalow's owner says. You see her eight eyes peer at you from a window.

"Babe, please," you say.

"Stop stalking me!" she shouts.

61. 🐼 The ghost bear waddles across the plaza and through a wall.

They felled a forest to build this strip mall. But they did not exorcise its ghost. Ghost vines hang from the ceiling. Ghost trees fill changing rooms. In the car park a ghost brook babbles, incoherently.

62. 🕯️ You blow out the candle. "Happy birthday!"

Your friends have grey hair. Others dance to Kelly's playlist. Something in your brain snaps -- you do not know how old you are.

There is only one candle on the cake. It tells you: you are however old you want to be.

63. 🍥 At the bottom of an empty paint bucket in your backyard shed, you discover a giant millipede, dark red, curled into a spiral.

You name her Millie. Obviously.

You boyfriend is disgusted. Slightly jealous of the attention you allot her. He was always insecure.

64. 🍡 The city is a shadow. Office towers in shards. Hypermalls with their skybridges broken. Collapsed nightclubs.

In the midst of all this, on an overgrown street, incongruously -- the smell of boiling soup. Fry-oil. Fish balls. A lok lok truck, greasy and pristine.

65. ✨ The light in her eyes die when you tell her to leave.

You lose your job at the production house. Once again, you are a freelancer. Interviewers pooh-pooh your portfolio.

You will learn how to draw again. Your muse was a crutch. You must do this on your own.

66. 🔮 Everything is as kitschy as you expect. Fake-velvet curtains and tablecloth. A set of tarot cards from Etsy. Even a crystal ball!

But when the fortune-teller looks up and sees you, she says: "No no, out."

What?

"You. No. Get out," she says, afraid.

67. 🥵 Ten laps in the pool. Then you pant to the sauna.

Stones sizzle as you open the door. Somebody is here, already. You take the opposite bench. He has an athlete's thighs. Sweat on his obliques make them look oiled.

He looks you up and down. Smirks. Judges.

68. 🗨️ In the kitchen Khan grunts. Khan being Khan, you think.

Sylvia comes in. She makes an oinking sound.

He grunts. She oinks again. Hoot-hoot. He hisses in reply. It appears to be a conversation.

Sylvia sees you staring. Waves a hand in your face, asks: "Moo?"

69. 👹 "They are going to hate me," she says, frowning around her tusks."

They are going to love you," you say.

In her nervousness she walks up to the microphone, no intro, just launches right into it. Her poem is electric. She is electric. And she is yours.

70. ⚛️ Guards, gyrocopter patrols -- Coilhaus Atomworks’s compound is well-protected. Which is as you expected.

You didn't expect the hex-wards in the inner compound. When you set foot on the manager's balcony, the teak floor shrieks: INTRUDER INTRUDER INTRUDER HERE!

71. 🌂 The Bum Under The Overpass jumps out. You yelp.

"Flee, peasant!" he growls. He reeks. He has a bin lid for a buckler, a brolly for a sword. "I shall shield ye against yon creature!"

You peer into the dark under the overpass -- and notice the hulking shadow there.

72. 💀 The captain wears a cutesy plastic skull on a silver chain. You don't think it fits with her camo grease, her fatigues.

"My daughter made this," she says.

You nod. You miss your son, too. All this -- the pay you earn, burning villages -- you do for your children.

73. 🦧 "Orangutan Kong". Some sort of gangster moniker?

No. Kong is actually an orangutan. He escaped from the Zoo, and started working in Goldtooth Tat's crew. As comic relief. Everybody who laughed at him is dead now.

If you want to work for him you should know.

74. 🧠 The robot ploughs through Market Street. Tiles scatter like confetti; cars are stomped flat. Pressure in your ears -- a thunder clap! The police van up the road explodes.

"There!" your partner shouts, pointing. A brain in a glowing jar, in the robot's belly.

75. 💈 You grew up here.The broom, the hair -- the chairs, Naugahyde over industrial frames. The mirrors, angled slightly, either side leading into infinity. The sink where Uncle Kuppu rinsed his razors and shaving brush.

Uncle Kuppu's gone. This place is yours, now.

76. ⚗️ The alchemist stumbles backwards, knocks over a beaker.

"My formula," he whispers. "You're an assassin from the Bankers’ Guild? You can't have me turning lead to gold."

You shake your head. "No. I work with the Silversmiths' Guild. I'm here to protect you."

77. 🔭 It is the fourth victim he has brought home.

They are always young, with tattoos. He restrains them, strangles them by the neck on the floor of his bathroom.

You watch, through your telescope. You should report him. But you like to watch them struggle.

78. ⛩️ The way to Grand Andropolis is lined with 417 red gates -- each one for a glorious victory the Imperial Legions have won over lesser races.

Gate 412 marks the time they slaughtered your parents. You touch it, and swear quietly: you will burn Grand Andropolis.

79. 🌻 The men at the big table drink beer, munch kuaci, laugh.

A woman with sunglasses arrives. The restaurant people tell her: "Kitchen closed already. Drinks?"

Just kuaci, she says.

She watches the men. When she bites the seeds open, you see long canines.

80. 🤖 You've never considered yourself technosexual. You thought robots cold. Then you met MARY-K8.

Her bright crystal optic sensors. Her omni-articulated limbs. Her way with words:

"HEY HUMAN USER," she synthesises. "HEART-UNIT NOT FOUND. PERHAPS YOU HAVE IT?"

81. 🦖 "The job is a museum," your master sighs. "Museum's are the worst."

You ask him why.

"We are exorcists, dumb-dumb! You know how many things the damn spirit can hide in? Can throw at us?"

When you master sees the T-rex skeleton in the atrium, he sighs again.

82. 🎍 Treaties signed between the Yun Empress and the Princes of Elemental Wood have resulted in the Type-4 Rhizomic Footsoldier --

A stiff, lanky construct; needing only sun and soil; grown in vast groves; with souls of bamboo and therefore without mercy ...

83. 🧜‍♀️ Each year, the mer send an emissary to bargain with the dry world.

The tide swells, then withdraws just as quick, leaving a carriage of driftwood and flowering coral --

"Dammit!" a voice says. Rattling, from within. "Door's stuck!" A sigh. "Some help, please?"

84. 🧠 "You're always going on about life hacks. So here," Mark says.

His gift is a book. "Telekinesis In 100 Days", its title says.

Mark smirks. "Enjoy!"

You'll show the bastard! It's just day 13. Already you can toss 50-cent coins with a lift of your eyebrow.

85. 📯 The footmen blow their horns. The herald crows: "The Tyrant and Lady van Sur!"

They descend the stairs. The man frail, tubes stuck up his nose; the woman in silk, her wig so heavy it is held up by grav-suspensors --

One push of your remote, and the suspensors fail.

86. 🥶 You jolt awake. Ice is pressed to your ankle -- no, chilled skin. A toenail. Feet.

"Jesus. Your feet."

His apology is a snorted murmur. He curls further, pressing into the heat of your belly. His hair tussled, smelling of lavender.

What's his name? Can you remember?

87. 🚪 The heavy door is shut. Padlocked. Your lock sprite shakes her head. "Mechanism's rusted solid."

Your spell-dwarf grumbles. "Lead brackets, see? Shock hex won't work."

"Lemme try," your slip-spirit squeaks. Flattens itself, slips under.

Doesn't came back.

88. 🌵 The Saguaro Sea is a vast tangle of sole-cutting rock, thorny brush, towering cacti broad as hillforts.

Here is found the Weeping Roc -- whose cry is a woman wailing; who steals children to feed its blind, featherless chicks.Children like your six-year-old.

89. 💃 Flamenco star Magritte Tanaka's talent is such that people say it is more than just grace and training.

They say she made a bargain. When she dances a devil helps her; plays her like a puppet on strings.

Truth is he forces her. She never wanted to dance.

90. 🎸 You stole the keytar of synth legend Razzak Luminem from the Museum of Sidereal Art last month.

Tonight you host its auction. Many have shown up: demon worshipers; glamrock stars; violist perverts; members of the Critics' Cartel -- troublemakers.

Watch yourself.

91. 🙆‍♀️ To fear the sky falling is silly --

Except in Fading Dassho, whose most dilapidated districts sit twilit under an obsolete stellar shield, its support struts increasingly ancient and tottery. A shutter collapsed, just last week -- shattering six thousand souls.

92. 🤖 We sent unmanned drones through the Hell-portal; we assumed exposure to Ultimate Evil would be bad for the human psyche.

All moot, it turned out. Because drones are robots -- and, you know, that cliche about robots turning bad, turning KILL ALL HUMANS?

Well.

93. 🏚️ A manor-turned-hotel, on a cliff, with a history of homicide? TrueCrimeFest 2018's organisers could not resist.

Three days of signings, panels, cosplay -- and a podcaster found garroted in her room.

Horrible! Horrible. (But, really: Best. TrueCrimeFest. Ever.)

94. 🤪 The Rictus Worm causes paralysis. Distorts the muscles of the face.

Your eyes pop, your tongue hangs lolling. You speak drool and sputters. You try the chirurgeon. He thinks you are fooling. Kicks you out.

The Rictus Worm is rare. You feel it in your nape.

95. 🌌 One by one the stars disappear. Without their light -- were they ever there?Constellations vanish, nebulae fade. The moon hangs alone in the night sky.

Only our sun and its huddling planets remain. An isolated, solipsistic, self-obsessed apocalypse.

96. 🤗 She welcomes you with open arms. "Happy you're home, Ah Boy," she says, kissing you, Tears on her cheek transferring to yours.

She is your mother; she calls you Ah Boy. Return appropriate amounts of affection. Your mission depends on how well you fool this woman.

97. 🅱️ The mark is made in red ink. The letter "B". Not so bad, outsiders might think --but yours is an euphemistic society.

This is the Competency Test, through which all citizens are streamed. An "A" means you get to stay above-ground. A "B" sends you Below.

98. 🎡 Anna gets into the pod before you. The ferris wheel begins to turn.

Travelling carnivals! Holdovers from a previous world, now surmounted by app-stores. You don't get the appeal. It's not even ironic --

High up, in the pod, Anna kisses you.

Now you get it.

99. ☄️ You still remember your wonder --

A bright blue star, trailing a bright line, bisecting the sky. Staring at it would spoil your eyes, they said.

In your cockpit, as the countdown begins, you think: now you will be a bright blue star. There will be a young girl on the ground, watching.

100. 🥑 When you halve the avocado you don't find a seed. You find a tiny baby.

It is curled up foetal. It is the colour of mahogany. It fusses slightly -- then starts into a full-blown caterwaul; big droplets of blood well from where your rough knifework has nicked it.

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