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ollie-oxen-free · 5 years

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(I legit can’t remember if you use Cash or not, but—) PuppyMoney — “How the hell did you get in here?”

song that i listened to here, because i kinda like it

also ive really outdone myself here because i wrote a shitpost and some edgy bullshit all in one, praise be to my incredible skils

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A thump in the other room wakes him up. It makes him tense, half-lifted on the arm he keeps folded under him in sleep, ready to run like hell if need be, but the long string of very flavorful curses (and honestly, Slim is going to have to steal a few of those because damn) make him relax, if only slightly. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor, standing in one smooth motion and avoiding the places that he knew would make the floor creak as he moves to the door, peering out the small crack.

Sure enough Cash was half-dangling from the ceiling, a mess of ropes caught around his legs and pinning one of his arms to his side. Not his best work, that was for sure, but he’s done worse things when he was drunk. He pushes out of his room, Cash immediately snapping his gaze to him, eye narrowing.

“Piece of shit.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Cash glares at him and he snorts, walking over to the wall where he was pretty sure he put the release lever. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“How did I- You left your fucking door open, dumbass! I walked in on the assumption that Kevin McAllister wasn’t one of the fucking residents.”

Slim glances at the front door, sockets narrowing as he tries to remember earlier that night, but gives up with a half-hearted shrug as he pulls the release, Cash hitting the ground with a grunt. He’s met with more curses as Cash detangles himself from the ropes, watching from a few feet away to avoid any “accidental” swipes at his shins.

“What the hell is wrong with you, leaving your door open like that? I could’ve killed you.”

Slim snorts and looks pointedly at the mess of ropes with a grin. “Yeah, yeah you coulda.”

Cash flips him off, finally detangling and standing fully. Even without the slightest slouch of his shoulders Slim was a few inches taller. “Sorry for not having reflexes like a crack-addicted cat.”

The neighbors in the apartment next to him pound on the wall, yelling angrily through sleep-slurred words. Slim only half-listens to their threats as he walks to the closet near the front door, digging out a pair of shoes and slipping them on his feet.

“We should probably get going before they call the cops. I’ve got a few grams on me.” There’s no response, but when he looks back over his shoulder the face the other makes is enough. “What?”

“I literally just got here.”

Slim trots over and grabs him under one of his arms, lifting him to his feet. Cash swings at his face but misses when he takes a step back, motioning to the door again. “And now we’re leaving. Life is about change. If you become too connected with where you are today, you might miss an opportunity to go somewhere better tomorrow. You aren’t the same person today that you used to be in the past, and you won’t be the same person in the future.”

They walk out and Slim shuts the door behind them (and suddenly realizes that the reason the door didn’t lock the night before is because the lock itself is broken, dammit), making his way down the stained carpet of the hall to the stairs.

“I see that you’ve been reading those self-help books that Blue got you.”

The stairwell echoes with their footsteps as they make their way down. “Yep! I like the pictures. They’re colorful.”

Cash laughs at that, not a half-snort or a huff but an outright laugh, and that itself is enough of a shock that it makes him join in. They step out into the humid city air, thick even with the cool of night supposedly in the air around them. Cash starts walking down the sidewalk and after a beat Slim follows, wishing he’d had the foresight to grab his jacket to have something to sling his hands into. “So, what’s your reason for visiting? Come to see my pretty face?”

“I came to rob you.”

He snorts. “Good luck finding anything worth stealing in there.”

The corner of Cash’s mouth twists like it’s forced, and the motion doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You live in a shithole.”

“Yeah?”

Cash glances over at him. He grins in warning and fights to hold the other’s gaze. In the end, though, he looks away first, squinting at the road ahead. For a long while, it’s silent.

They walk with no real destination in their steps, long enough that in the distance he sees a tunnel coming up, concrete walls standing high on either side of it, sticking up from seemingly nowhere.

Cash is the one who breaks the silence. “For someone from a Fellverse you have no preservation instincts whatsoever.”

Slim shrugs. Can’t really argue with that. “I get my kicks from spitting in death’s face.”

They’re getting closer to the tunnel as they walk and Slim feels the urge to climb onto the very apex of the arch and watch as deaths fly by under him. “He’ll get you one of these days. Give it time. And who knows? I might even help the bastard.”

“Nah,” he grins. “Pretty sure that if one of us was gonna kill the other we’d’ve done it by now.”

“Oh, really?” Cash picks up the pace before leaping up to grab the top of the wall, pulling himself up and watching over his shoulder as Slim does the same. “Maybe I’m just getting your guard down. Waiting for the right moment.”

Slim laughs, the sound breathy. “Yeah, yeah, you seemed real conniving the other night when you were begging for my c-” Cash shoves him, hard, and he only just manages to roll into the movement as he hits the ground.

He laughs, watching Cash continue on towards the hill that the road burrows under before he goes back a few steps and jumps back on, rushing to catch up. The other gives him a warning look but any threat that may have been in it is gone. In return he pats the pocket of his jeans, still wrinkled from sleep, and pulls out a crumpled blunt, waving it with a grin. Cash looks from it, to him, and rolls his eyes, shifting out onto the center of the arch and sitting with his feet dangling. Slim sits beside him and offers the roll but Cash pushes his hand away.

“God knows what’s mixed in with that,” he says, and Slim laughs because God probably doesn’t even know himself.

He flicks his thumb, an unsteady flame, and lights it, taking a drag of the blunt that’s honestly more paper than anything else. It feels good though, the action, and that’s all he really wants from it.

“I got an extra room,” Cash says after a moment. Anger curls in his chest like the smoke he’s breathing in.

“Yeah,” he mutters, bitter. “I bet.”

“Be grateful. I could show your brother how your ‘independence’ has gone and get him to drag your ass out of there. I’m offering. Feel free to take it.”

Slim doesn’t answer, staring down at the road. Where was a decent semi when you needed one? “Fine,” he finally says, feeling more than seeing the other’s shock. It’s gone as soon as it came.

“Damn,” Cash says, and it’s as monotonous as always but there’s an undercurrent of pride, this time, something smug. “You really are a dumbass. My chances of being able to kill you in your sleep have gone up astronomically.”

Despite the annoyance in his chest he chuckles. “Yeah, well, zero times anything is still zero.”

Cash slaps the sad excuse for a blunt out of his hands.j

#puppymoney #papcest #my writing #drug mention #drug use #unhealthy thoughts #intrusive thoughts #undertale #fuck you kit #im not good at writing things and you know this #oh to be able to write something decent that isnt edgy and isnt just a joke #i wish my writing could Flow but unfortunately i am just a young man who has no idea what the fuck theyre doing

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ichikonohakko · 6 years

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[Villain! Deku AU] Gray(scale) (2/2)

AO3

“Izuku, I—“

“This is your dream, Hitoshi-kun,” there was a smile, small and dim, but it was a smile. “Being a hero is everyone’s dream, is it not?” Hitoshi could hear the strain behind that statement, as if Izuku was fighting against himself. He furrowed his brows for a split second, but Hitoshi caught it just fine, and it made him… sad.

Izuku was on the bed, his face pale and gaunt. During the course of one and a half year Hitoshi came to know him, this occurrence will happen at least twice a month. Izuku didn’t live a healthy life; there are many times he just didn’t remember (or bother) to eat. There were days he only subsisted on coffee or some random snacks he found and fancied. And it was always during these times and Kurogiri-san would come for him.

(Because Sensei had punished Izuku every time he fainted because of this particular matter. Hitoshi assumed that he punished Izuku verbally, because it was always a hysterical breakdown Hitoshi had to pull him out from. He still remembered the last time it happened, when Izuku cried and tried to claw himself for two days straight and draining his already-compromised body fluids because Sensei had told him that he was disappointed that Izuku cannot take care of himself.)

Usually, Hitoshi would sit on the bed, running his fingers along Izuku’s face because the other always found comfort in such little touch. But this time, he was standing on the edge of Izuku’s bed, wavering between wanting to cry and unspeakable pity.

Just like their first meeting just a few months before.

Shinsou Hitoshi liked to wander around his neighborhood.

It may come as a surprise, since people knew him as a bit of an antisocial person, but Hitoshi enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by people he didn’t know. He enjoyed the feeling of fading into the background, a cup of hot chocolate in hand as he watch people pass him by. He enjoyed reading the news, fantasizing about being a hero every time passing news about one came to his ears.

But, Hitoshi chimed to himself, who can I save with this ability?

Maybe he could become the type of hero who didn’t save people directly; they defeat villains to save everyone. But… would that be a true hero? Both All Might and Eraserhead will always be able to save people before they defeat the villains, because after all rescuing someone is a vital part of being a hero. But for him… who could he save?

“The answer to that question… would you like me to give it to you?”

He was already there before Hitoshi even realized it. It was a man, probably in his early thirties, wearing a set of clothes that reminded Hitoshi of a bartender. He looked… familiar, kind of the face he would pass by in a street. His eyes were glittering green, his face adorned with freckles, he looked… handsome. “Why thank you, Hitoshi-kun. I’ll be sure to convey your praise to the owner of this body.”

“Eh…?”

Glittering green looked towards him with a look of piqued interest laced with amusement. As if Hitoshi had amused him just by sitting there. The man then stretched his fingers towards his chin, lightly tilting it upwards, before humming to himself. “Oh, you are very pretty. My dear Izuku would be so pleased with you…” Hitoshi’s heart rammed against his chest, not because the man had called him pretty (which was a pretty odd thing to call a teenage boy with), but because of the way he looked at him. Like he was some sort of… specimen.

“Kurogiri had really outdone himself this time,” the man mused as he ran a finger on Hitoshi’s cheekbone. “A pretty paradox, the same age as darling Izuku, too! We don’t often run to someone like this. If only we could find somebody like you in Tomura’s years too…” There was a smile, a regretful one, but… it didn’t reach his eyes. It was like everything was a source of amusement for this person, and Hitoshi’s entire body was flaring at him, urging him to run.

But he can’t run. This man had his eyes on his entire being. One wrong move from Hitoshi and—

“Shinsou Hitoshi-kun,” the man called, snapping Hitoshi out of his reverie with a single call of his name. “Would you like to save someone? Usually I would do it myself—take your quirk and be done with it—but… I sure think that it’s time for my Izuku to have another person in his life.”

Hitoshi wasn’t sure on how to process all of this. On one side, he felt his guts screaming at him not to trust this person, but on the other hand, he was curious about this person that he out of all people can save…

“I… I would like save this person.” was his answer to the man, no conflicts over the two choices presented at him. Being a hero, rescuing people and defeating bad guys has been and will always be Hitoshi’s dream. If this man said that there is someone he could save, then what reason did he have to refuse?

The man smirked as he let go of Hitoshi’s chin, eyes gleaming with glee as he stood up and offered him a head. “Shall we go then?” Hitoshi took his hand and they walked away and away and away from the crowd.

When they reached a certain bunker hidden between trees and mountains, the strange man looked at him and asked once more:

“Your dream is to be a hero, right Hitoshi-kun?”

“Yeah…”

A smirk, a gleeful smirk.

“Good. You’ll be a lesson.”

Back then, Hitoshi didn’t understand what he had meant.

“How is Izuku, Naomi-san…?”

“He will be fine, Shinsou-kun. As he usually do after the doctors have worked their magic on him.”

The look on Naomi-san’s face was a calming one, but Hitoshi couldn’t help himself. Izuku had fallen asleep on the bed he had previously slept on only hours before, accompanied only by the sound of IV dripping down. Hitoshi really hated seeing Izuku unconscious for myriads of reasons; but the main was because it reminded him of the many times he had to stand on the side as Kurogiri or Sensei examined Izuku’s limp body.

Hitoshi took a deep breath as he sat himself on the armchair just next to Izuku’s bed, eyes wandering over the form of his sleeping friend. He really couldn’t imagine life without Izuku around, sporadically coming into his life with a tired yet beautiful smile. And yet… and yet….

We think we may have found a way for your quirk to be a hero material, Shinsou-kun. We really need new heroes right now to regenerate the ones we have lost, so what do you think? Do you still want to be a hero?

“Of course I do…” Hitoshi sighed, burrowing his face on his hand as he curled into himself.

Even after being in touch with people like Izuku, Sensei, Kurogiri, and even Shigaraki, Hitoshi still retained his childhood dream of becoming a hero. He understood that the hero system wasn’t perfect, same as any other system created by mankind, and he saw how people like Shigaraki and Izuku existed precisely because the hero system was not good enough. But all of those things didn’t make turn away from the heroics, if anything, it even pushed him even further to create a much-needed change for the current society.

Hitoshi would make it so people like Izuku and Shigaraki would never have to exist. He won’t wait until somebody else did it, he will be the one to do so.

Because he could still remember the thrill, pride, and happiness he felt when he first saved Izuku from whatever it was that plagued him. Even when Hitoshi wasn’t exactly sure if he had done anything worthy for Izuku to hold him closely in heart, Izuku reassured him that Hitoshi was probably the hero that the world needed….

The room was cramped and dark, filled with boxes that smelled of metallic tin can. There wasn’t any light sans the one coming from the hallways. Hitoshi stood next to a man (mist) who introduced himself as Kurogiri.

“The Master told me to tell you that he would want you to use your quirk to snap Izuku-san out of his episode.” His tone was neutral, as if this ‘Izuku’ always had an episode and he always needed someone to snap him out of it. The more Hitoshi think about it, the more curious he became. Just... who is this Izuku? Why do these people seemed to care about him and yet at the same time not? And... how could Hitoshi save him?

“After you, Shinsou Hitoshi,” Kurogiri held the door open for him and he stepped into the darkness with wavering steps. Everything seemed to echo in a place that should be too narrow for echoes to sound, or Hitoshi could be imagining things since his heart was beating really fast. I shouldn’t be here... I should have never come here... His gut was screaming at him, but Hitoshi braved himself to venture deeper into the dark room.

There were metals, many of them, and Hitoshi felt like he was standing in the middle of a room full of trash cans. But he silently made his way to the left corner of the room as the strange green-eyed man had instructed him on their way before they met Kurogiri.

You won’t miss him; frail little thing he is. If you’re a hero, you will never be able to miss him.

And the man was right.

There was a boy there, his face buried on his knees as he clutched the sides of his head with his gloved hands. He was shivering and murmuring things under his breath, the perfect picture of a person who is in dire need of a hero.

Hitoshi’s heart went out for the boy, pitying and wanting to rescue him at the same time. He instinctively went forward and kneeled in front of him, trying to establish eye contact.

“Hello...? Are you alright?”

The boy curled deeper into himself, flinching as he heard Hitoshi’s voice. But he didn’t answer him, so Hitoshi’s quirk hasn’t taken effect. The boy was still murmuring and Hitoshi strained his ears to hear snippets of his words.

“Can’t... shouldn’t... wouldn’t... sleep. Shouldn’t... pass out... I’m not good enough. I’m sorry Sensei... I’m really really really sorry....”

There was a sound of scratching that Hitoshi only noticed now that he was really near, and he realized that the boy was clawing on his own throat. His eyes tripled its previous size as he abruptly tried to pull the boy’s hands away from his own neck. “Hey! Stop! What are you doing?!”

The boy stopped.

He looked up from his knees, beautiful green eyes meeting Hitoshi’s own red in a pure silence. Hitoshi had his hands firmly on the boy’s wrists, desperate to not let him claw his already-bleeding neck. “Please...” Hitoshi breathed out silently. “Stop...” There was another second shared between the two and the boy finally answered to him.

“You... are very pretty...” And he was gone.

Hitoshi aligned his gaze with the blank eyes he was familiar with. The boy looked so tired, so drained, so so... injured. He really couldn’t take it.

“Please, go to sleep.”

And that must have been what his body really wanted; because he fell to Hitoshi’s arms almost immediately after. He didn’t need to think because that’s what he really needed anyways, but judging from his murmurs earlier, he had been holding out without sleep solely out of his own will.

“Oh, he finally fell asleep? Your quirk really is amazing, Shinsou Hitoshi.” Kurogiri said as he clapped his hands slowly. “Now I know the perfect remedy to get every time Izuku-san had an episode!” He sounded excited, and as Hitoshi tightened his grip around the boy currently sleeping in his arms, he couldn’t help but feel like he had gone into a place he shouldn’t ever know.

They meet again time and time after, but Hitoshi never really stayed until Izuku wakes.

Until the one time he did and he decided that he would never ever leave this person, because it was the first time Hitoshi felt like he had someone who made him feel like a hero.

(And Izuku got better. He still needed to be pulled out of his episodes once in a while, but he was mostly better)

“Bakugou Katsuki?”

“Yes, Kacchan!”

Izuku was in his cheery mode and Hitoshi couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s antics. Izuku always said that he dressed in a bartender suit because it was a formal look good enough for Sensei, but Hitoshi knew that Izuku chose the bartender outfit because he had always been fascinated with the barista he met while getting his favorite coffees.

Hitoshi knew that Izuku woke up approximately six months ago in this place without any memories. How he clung to Sensei (Hitoshi never really caught his name and they never really met after their first meeting) almost maniacally because he thought he didn’t have any other reason to exist other than to please him, Hitoshi also knew of Izuku’s fascination to his former life—one he would refer as Deku. And recently, he had gotten to remember more and more things about his childhood friend of the time, named Bakugou Katsuki.

Listening to Izuku recalling about his past made Hitoshi skeptical of this Bakugou character. Izuku spoke of him fondly, with laughter in his voice and nostalgia in his face, but his words...

“Then he pushed me down the bridge until I fell into the river! Thank heavens I only hit my head with a small rock!”

...it sounded like this Bakugou was bullying him.

But Hitoshi kept his silence and lowered his head. He had seen the claw marks around Izuku’s neck, the gunshot wounds on his shoulder and torso, the deep cut on his arms and legs, and even the scar on his head. Hitoshi looked up when Izuku stared at him, smiling his best smile. “Yeah, thank heavens it wasn’t anything worse.”

Because... he was really thankful.

When Hitoshi failed the hero course entrance exam to Yuuei, he went to the penthouse.

Naomi-san greeted him as usual, with a smile and a cup of Darjeeling tea steaming on the table. Izuku came a few minutes later, drenched to the bone as he threw himself on Hitoshi’s chest.

“I heard! I’ve always been a fan of Yuuei, but I think they’re being stupid for not accepting you!”

Hitoshi noticed the bloodstains on his clothes first and the absence of his gloves after. Izuku rambled on and on, cursing Yuuei for not accepting him and how he should apply to the general course. Hitoshi indulged him, feeling thankful that someone is being angry in his behalf, and yet he felt really unsettled when Izuku smiled and asked to borrow his quirk.

“What... are you going to do with it?”

“An errand. It won’t be long.”

The very next day, Hitoshi woke up on his favorite four poster bed in the penthouse with an invitation to study at the general course of Yuuei Academy.

Shinsou Hitoshi felt that sometimes, the time he spent away from Izuku was a blur.

Especially so in his school life.

So he always waited patiently for the days Izuku would appear out of the blue in the middle of his classroom and took him away to the penthouse, where they would spent time together until Hitoshi woke up with a smiling Izuku next to him, thanking him for borrowing his quirk.

(Hitoshi didn’t know and didn’t really want to know what Izuku did with his quirk. He was just grateful that Izuku was next to him, smiling and not clawing his neck out)

Sometimes, Shinsou Hitoshi had lapses in his memories, but he was fine with it.

He knew what happened during his lapses, anyway. In fact, he was grateful for it. Because the lapses in his memories meant that Izuku would be there, greeting him with a smile and a story to share. He was Izuku’s hero, he didn’t really care about everyone else.

Until... he cared.

Or to be precise, he realized that he cared still for his dreams of being a hero. Hitoshi stared at the cup of Darjeeling tea Naomi-san had prepared for him. Lost in thought. Izuku was really important to him, he was his best friend and had been his anchor during his most desperate times. He leaned on Izuku when Izuku leaned on him, just a pair of boys leaning on each other. Pretty normal, right? Hitoshi knew that many people shared the same relationship as he and Izuku. They were best friends, after all. There wasn’t anything wrong with their dynamics. No. Nothing at all.

This is your dream, right?

To rescue people and to defeat villains, being a hero is your dream, right?

He knew. In the back of his head, he knew. Izuku is a villain. But Izuku was his best friend, he didn’t need to capture his best friend, right? He could always turn a blind eye towards Izuku and Izuku alone. Because Izuku himself is a victim! Yeah! If only this world had better heroes, Izuku wouldn’t have had those scars around his neck...

And Hitoshi would be a hero to save him from all of that.

The rain outside was pouring hard and it snapped Hitoshi out of his internal struggle. He shook his head and decided to check on Izuku.

There was a gnawing feeling in Hitoshi’s heart as he walked over towards their favorite room in the penthouse. But he steeled himself as he walked, taking a deep breath and exhaling it before finding the room... empty.

The windows were opened and rain poured down to the expensive carpet, but Hitoshi ran.

“IZUKU!” He didn’t care that he was wet, he didn’t care that he was screaming on top of a balcony and nobody could hear him. Hitoshi ran towards the elevator, not caring that he was wet and immediately pushed the ground floor. Why? Where was Izuku? He was really sick, why did he leave, where had he gone? Why is he gone?

Hitoshi ran and ran and ran, around town, around the crossroads, desperate to find something—someone.

Hitoshi took a deep breath, trying to recall where his best friend might have gone. He retraced his steps as he let the rain poured over him. He was just... where?

Where had he been?

“The penthouse... where...?”

No. No. He knew. He remembered. He often shared a penthouse with Izuku, but... where was the penthouse...?

“No... no... no...”

Izuku had rejected him.

Hitoshi had known Naomi-san for over a year now, and he was well-acquainted with her quirk. Memory erasure, a quirk Izuku often borrowed whenever he got a much more dangerous reconnaissance mission. Naomi-san must have used her quirk on him, that’s why he couldn’t remember where to penthouse was anymore....

“This is your dream, Hitoshi-kun,” there was a smile, small and dim, but it was a smile. “Being a hero is everyone’s dream, is it not?”

Not like this.

Not like this!!!

“I... I...” suddenly, the thought of losing Izuku crept at him like some sort of insect. It crawled on his skin as it got harder and harder to breathe. He could register someone with striking blond hair trying to shake him out of his stupor, but he... he...

This is your dream, Hitoshi-kun.

“Don’t disappear, Izuku...”

And the world turned dark.

#shindeku #shinsou hitoshi #midoriya izuku #villain!deku au #ichi writes #hitoshi is bromantically in love with izuku #but izuku's too fucked up to pick up the signs #angssssttt

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orionwhispers · 6 years

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Devil Like Me (Part IV)

(A/N So sorry for the wait guys, but this is the longest chapter I’ve done so far so I hope you enjoy. Any feedback is appreciated!)

Then

You didn't see him again for weeks, despite the niggling feeling telling you it was a bad idea; you began peering out of your window every night trying to catch a glimpse of the man in the shadows. That didn't mean you didn't feel his presence though, walking around town you could feel eyes on the back of your neck and driving late at night you swore you saw shadows in the dark, but every time you looked you were completely alone. You knew it was wrong, he was a monster, a demon. But part of you, deep down, wanted to see him again.

By now, the leaves that once clung to the trees in burning reds and yellows had faded and come tumbling to the ground in the winter wind. It was approaching the annual "Christmas Ball" an event held every year at the city hall intended to bring everyone together to turn on the lights strewn all over town. Cynthia, the Mayor's wife, was adamant in making the night extravagant, ensuring everyone was dressed to the nines and forcing the high school students to undergo ballroom lessons. It was a stupid tradition, but fun nonetheless, and a chance for the students to dress up and act like adults.

"What do you mean you're not going?" Aunt Jean screeched as you poured two cups of coffee. You hastily rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, it was far too early for this.

"I'm not really in the mood, besides I would rather spend time with you."

"It's that crap the doctor said isn't it?" Aunt Jean asked pulling an unimpressed face "Don't listen to him, I'm fine, I can take care of myself! You go have fun. I'm in the best condition of my life."

You rolled your eyes watching her shaking hands attempt to bring the cup to her mouth, the caramel coloured liquid spilling over the sides.

"You've been through a lot sweetheart," She began, slowly reaching over and intertwining her trembling fingers with yours, "You deserve a night off. Besides, what about that gorgeous dress you bought? You'll be the prettiest girl there."

You smiled and gave her a small kiss on the cheek, "Thanks, Auntie, I'll think about it." You sighed swinging your rucksack over your shoulder "I'm gonna be late for school, don't forget your meds!"

She grumbled and waved you off as you shut the door, converse pattering against the icy pavement, smiling to yourself, thankful you were finally distracted. Maybe a night out could be fun?

"Hold still!" Jasmine demanded as she grabbed the side of your head, jerking it to the side whilst wrapping a coil of hair around the silver curlers.

"I'm trying!" You protested, "But you're being so violent!"

"Pain is beauty," The redhead murmured, face etched in concentration as if she was painting a masterpiece rather than trying to tame your messy locks. "I'm almost done anyway, don't get your panties in a twist."

You chuckled, taking the moment to glance around your best friends bedroom. Memories of countless sleepovers curled in her pink bed, both of you staying up till sunrise, gorging on pizza and gossiping. It was like a museum of you both, photographs of you in middle school, hair in pigtails and mouth stuffed with braces. Posters of boy bands and TV shows you had both outgrown taped on the wall that held too much sentimental value to toss. She had persuaded you to come over that night, promising an evening of pampering and fun before the dance. And whilst you were reluctant at first, you were so grateful for your best friend and her attempts to make you feel better.

'And I'm done! I don't mean to brag but wow, I truly am an artist."

You scoffed, but hugged her anyway as she pushed you away squealing "Careful don't mess it up!" You glanced in the mirror, running your hands through the tousled waves and smiling at the reflection, it was nice to not have your hair strewn in a lifeless ponytail as it had been recently.

"Thanks, Jas." you grinned as she started working on her own updo, tangling her already gorgeous curls into an elegant bun.

"Dress is hanging up in the closet." she gurgled, mouth full of bobby pins. You giggled as you walked over, opening the pine doors and pulling out the dress you had spent way too much money on. It was long and champagne coloured, covered in gold sequins on the bodice before spiralling out into a full skirt.

You had originally spotted it in a vintage shop in the next town over when you were visiting. But the price tag was hefty and whilst the dress was beautiful your stomach twitched with embarrassment about wearing something so extravagant. But once Jasmine had spotted you pining for it she didn't stop pestering you until you finally gave in, trying it on and falling in love. All those weekends you had spent babysitting the kids on your street rather than going out seemed worth it as you fondled the material in your fingers.

You slipped it on your underwear-clad frame and smoothed it down, before turning to your friend and striking a faux model pose. She gasped exaggeratedly clutching her heart in mock awe, "You look amazing," she squealed. 'So do you!" you enthused, heart swelling with love and pride for your beautiful best friend, gesturing to her ruched deep black cocktail dress. Although you were sure your elderly and rather conservative french teacher Mr Powell would have a heart attack once he saw the length of her skirt.

"Let's take a photo." She mused grabbing her phone from her bedside table and pulling you into her side, both of you smiling animatedly at the camera. You rested your head on hers and shot a toothy grin as the camera flashed, happiness warming your stomach and radiating through your skin. Nothing could ruin this night.

You raised the champagne flute to your red lips, smiling as you tasted the sparkling white grape juice that hit your tongue; a touch from the adults not wanting to allow the teens alcohol. Your back was pressed against the wall, observing your peers and fellow neighbours enjoying themselves. Cynthia had outdone herself this year, the hall was decorated beautifully, a traditional festive red and green theme all centred around an impressively large Christmas tree. You spotted Jasmine out of the corner of your eye, waving to you gleefully as an older boy wrapped his arm around her petite waist and spun her around the dance floor.

"Didn't think you'd come." You whirled around recognising the voice of a boy from your year, slightly older than you with a knack for getting in trouble.

"Oh, hi James," You said with a smile, distractedly clicking your nails, "Couldn't miss out, could I? The biggest night in town history" You mimicked Cynthia's sophisticated voice.

He scoffed and turned away, "Aren't you embarrassed?"

You gave him a questioning look, eyebrows furrowed as he rolled his eyes and he spoke slowly as if talking to a child.

"At the party? When you made that whole scene?"

"Scene?" You asked turning to face him, scouring his features for any traces of humour "I hardly think what happened was a scene."

"Really?" He took a confident swig of his drink, which you could tell had been spiked with some kind of alcohol. "You ruined the whole night, everyone was pissed."

You stood up straight, feeling your face growing hot with anger, "I found her, she was dead. You can't imagine the pain she must have gone through, would you have rather I left her?"

"I didn't say that," he began lowering his voice as a few faces had turned to you both now. "But c'mon, you acted like she had been mauled by a bear, she had a bad trip and died. Thanks to you the police came and raided everyone and now the guys and I are doing community service because they found some MDMA."

You glared at him, fuming at his utter lack of respect for the girl he once knew. She should be here enjoying the festivities but instead, she was laying in a coffin. Could he really be that selfish?

"You're vile." You spat staring at his relaxed frame leaning against the wall "Absolutely pathetic. I'm sorry that you and your ignorant friends got in trouble but I couldn't give less of a shit. Sarah died that night, in pain, and you wanted me to just leave her by herself? You disgust me."

His hands clutched your bare shoulders and he thrust you into the wall, slimy mouth inches from your face and you recoiled in horror. "Think carefully about what you say to me." He hissed, lips against your ear. Your eyes darted around the room wondering if anyone could see what was happening, but the party was still in full swing.

"Get off me." You snarled managing to shove him away, taking a second to regain your composure before you stumbled away from him heading towards the double doors leading to the garden. Your heart was in your chest as you leant on a large fountain, the distant thump of the party echoing in your ears as you turned back watching the lights flicker. You ran a hand through your hair, blinking back tears and you sank to the floor, breathing shaky and rapid.

A sound in the distance made your head snap up, you couldn't see anything but you knew it must have been him. You shakily got to your feet, trying to be silent as you smoothed out your dress with your hands and edged closer towards the back of the garden, where the trees had covered the patches of light leaving it in utter darkness.

You saw something. A shadow or silhouette or whatever it was, you were determined to not let him get away, not this time.

Heels crunching on the frost covered ground you marched forward, the cold was prickling your skin and leaving goosebumps down your arms but you didn't care. You needed to see him again, in the flesh. Your head was thumping in perfect rhythm with your steps, the bottom of your dress trailing across the muddy grass. You came closer, heart pumping in your ears as you saw the outline of his figure against the trees, adrenaline coursing through you making you appear more confident than you really were.

"Hey! Hey you!" Before you could stop them the words came tumbling out of your mouth, crashing into the dark silence. You so badly wanted to turn around but you stood your ground, waiting in dread as he stepped out of the shadows. The moon reflected off his face and you could see all of his features, there was no denying that he was beautiful, unlike anyone you had ever seen before, making your breath hitch in your throat despite you trying desperately to gulp it down. He gave you a smirk as he stepped forward, blue-green eyes trained on you cautiously watching your next move.

"I'm not scared of you, you know." You spit, gritting your teeth to stop your trembling voice from betraying you.

"I don't doubt that love." His thick voice laced with a British accent catches you off guard. He steps forward, blonde curls glowing gold in the moonlight, flushed lips almost grazing your face.

"Sorry about your friend."

You want to smack him, but fear is keeping you rooted to the spot. "You need to stay away from here." You plead not caring how weak you sound "I won't tell anyone what I saw, I promise." He glances at you, eyes flickering across your face as he reached towards you, grasping a loose curl between his fingers.

"I would leave, but I'm rather intrigued by this town, or rather, the people living in it." He murmurs eyes meeting yours, "You act like a mouse but I know you're not, I saw you waiting for me every night yet you pretend like you don't want to see me."

"You're a monster."

"Ah, like you wouldn't believe Darling."

You steady yourself, clenching your teeth together trying not to tremble at the contact of his hands against your skin.

"What are you?"

He ignores your question trailing a finger down the side of your jaw, "The world is full of darkness, I'd hate to see it corrupt someone so light. But something tells me you wouldn't mind having your mind tainted...hm?"

A sudden sting of strength comes over you as you smack his hands away, glaring him down despite the height difference between you both.

"You don't know anything about me."

He shrugs, not fazed by anything you do like he's always one step ahead. "With time." You watch as he confidently strides across the night, beginning to get enveloped by the black. Before he turns, staring you down. "You should be more careful Love," He states gesturing to the darkness you are both surrounded by, "You never know what lurks around in the night."

Now

The tension in the air was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. You saw his jaw tighten and twitch, immediately drawing his eyes away from yours like he couldn't bear to look at you.

"Take her back upstairs."

"Niklaus-" You heard Elijah begin, stepping forward to consult his brother, but Klaus just waved him away.

"Enough. I have things to take care of," He glares at the man you recognise from this morning, the one who gave you the cereal. "Do try and make sure she stays locked up this time Sebastian."

Sebastian glances at you, offering a gentle smile as he attempts to take hold of your wrist but you shrug it off lurching towards Klaus.

"So that's it huh? You're just gonna keep me locked up. Is that my punishment?"

He continues walking, not once looking back, unfazed by your words and actions and you can't help the sting in your chest. Sebastian takes his time now, holding your wrist tenderly and guiding you out of the room despite your protests.

As soon as you are in the room, you flop on the bed. Biting your lip until its raw, not allowing the tears to flow. You won't let him win, not like this. And if he won't talk, you'll just have to make him listen.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus imagine #tvd imagine #the originals #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries

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themadnessthatis · 6 years

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So, Tomb Raider: Angel of Darkness...

Warning, this is going to be a long-ass post, mostly me rambling about how TR6 was a game with good concepts but shitty execution. Expect a bit of non-linear ranting.

I have some serious Opinions™ on this game, now having finished it (which was a quasi-Herculean feat in of itself from fighting against the game the whole time, but more on that in a bit).

When I first got this game, eyes full of wonder and amazement, I was like “aw yeah, a new Tomb Raider for a new generation of consoles!”. Having only played it for a bit my opinion quickly soured, and the game was never played after having fallen down a hole and dying in the Parisian sewers. All I said to myself at the time was “wow, this game is shit,never playing this again :| .”

Which I didn’t, until recently.

Fast forward a bit, and a friend of mine lends me her PC copies of Tomb Raider 2-through-6 (sadly no copy of TR1 :’[ ), which I sat down and played, all while eyeing up the box containing AoD with animosity. Boy did I regret saying I wouldn’t mind if she lent me that one as well.

But after going through the other games with various degrees of ease, from the “wow it’s over already?” of Chronicles to the “Will it never end?” of TR3 (which I personally rate as the worst of the “old school” Tomb Raiders. Just....fuck that game, the best part of it is the credits, but I digress.), we were left with just one more game; Angel of Darkness, sitting there, almost expectantly.

“Well, it’s been a while, maybe I was just bad at the game, and it’s actually alright?” I said as I set about installing it, ready to give the game the benefit of the doubt.

Well the fact that controller setup was a pain in the arse should’ve been a dead giveaway that something was up. Though is was nowhere near as infuriating as Chronicles, which required a fucking JoyToKey configuration to get it to work smoothly, otherwise jumps would result in Lara just careening off to the side every.fucking.time.)

Actually, when you first play AoD, the controls are really the first thing you’ll pick up on. I.E: they’re the worst. Really they’re the biggest flaw of this whole game, and if they weren’t as clunky and gods-awful as they are, AoD might’ve been a much better experience. Lara controls like a fucking Mark IV from 1917; turns, speed, everything. It’s such a jarring shift from the previous installments that it really takes some time getting used to, and could be a reall deal-breaker. Also Lara no longer runs like she used to, more like a slow jog, only gaining the ability to sprint later in the game (you know, the thing she could do at the very beginning of TR3, 4 and 5? Like she has to learn how to use her legs, after all of her previous escapades?!). Jumping also seems to have undergone some hideous transformation; from somewhat fluid sequences to an absolutely jerky mess of a mechanic, not helped by Lara needing some space to build up momentum (from walk to jog). Like the only time she handles almost smoothly is when she’s swimming (which thank fuck no longer has her getting stuck on the walls and floor like she did in previous games.).

When you’re not busy fighting against the controls and some of the early Capcom-esque fixed camera angles, you might be able to notice some of the changes to the TR formula, for better or for worse.

Perhaps the most noticeable is Lara’s equipment; gone are her iconic (not Ubisoft iconic, mind you) pistols with unlimited ammo. In their place Lara can collect a plethora of new pistols, including a very nice taser. Though this is moot when Lara eventually loses all of her acquired weapons, as she is wont to do if TR1, 2 and 3 are anything to go by. You also get the classic shotgun and two SMGs. Though tbh, and this might just be me, but don’t all of the weapons in this game feel like the do the same amount of damage?

One thing that was a nice touch was the inventory revamp. The ring-like setup from previous TRs is gone, and now each type of item (health, weapons and puzzle clues) have their own inventory sections, making it less of an eyesore than the cluttered messes of the previous game’s inventories. Speaking of health, the repertoire of healing items has been increased, with various items granting various degrees of health restoration, which is nice, no more wasting medikits (though i do not understand how a chocolate bar could heal a person, but whatever, video game logic, i guess.). The puzzle clues section does get kinda cluttered though, as Lara doesn’t seem to want to get rid of anything she picks up, even if she no longer needs it, so her pockets are basically just full of security cards and bits of paper until the end of the game like JESUS CHRIST ON A STICK JUST DUMP THAT SHIT IN A BIN, LARA!”.

On the subject of puzzles, it’s great that that is an element that has carried over to AoD nicely, unlike some of the more modern titles (looking at you, Tomb Raider 2013). The Hall of Seasons was a great example of this, and is very reminiscent of the St Francis’ Folly from the original games, what with its God-themed rooms. Granted that there were other “puzzles” that were a little too obvious, like “push table to find mixture to kill giant plant”. But overall, the puzzle side of Tomb Raider is definitely there. Although, there are no secrets to find (but after TR3 and 4′s “And your reward is FLARES” bullshit, I’m okay with that).

So, what about the story? To be perfectly honest, it’s as about as normal as a Tomb Raider story line can be: Secret sect looking for paintings so they can resurrect an ancient race of human/angel hybrids that was destroyed back in biblical times except not all of them, and Lara gets involved b/c they killed Von Croy and she was framed for it... Look, it’s certainly not as far-fetched as “Italian mafia dude looking for magic Chinese knife that turns people into dragons instead of corpses when stabbed with it.” (Love you, TR2, but what even...), or whatever the hell was going on in TR3 with its magical ancient Polynesian artifacts and “rapid evolution”, but it’s out there.

Mechanics wise, there have been some changes that are quite nice in concept, but are failed by poor execution (a running theme for this game). The grip meter is a new thing, and is influenced by Lara’s upper body strength (like how her jumping/sprinting and door-kicking are affected by her lower body strength), like a sort of RPG attribute. These body strength factors are a nice tough and could’ve been a plus in a good game, but here the attributes are given out at arbitrary moments throughout the game and feel forced, like at one moment Lara must gain an upper body strength upgrade by just shunting a pile of boxes around for no real reason. When you couple this with the sluggish momentum-based “running”, it’s almost like the developers were trying to go for a more “realistic” feel but didn’t really know how to go about it.

There’s also a certain Bioware-esque dialogue tree that pops up from time to time in the game. While it’s a nice touch, the fact that there’s no real change to the outcome (bar 3 exceptions) kind of makes the interactions pointless.

Going past the mechanics, the game itself (at least on PC), is a glitchy, buggy mess that would crash for no reason. Textures are missing, walls vanish in some of Kurtis’ (a boring, bland secondary character we get to play as, and I’ll get to him in a second.) levels for no reason, not to mention that one level can be skipped entirely thanks to a bug where Lara just has to roll into a fucking wall. Also, not certain if it’s more an exploit than it is a bug, but it’s kinda of an anticlimax that the last two bosses can be cheesed by just commando-crawling under their projectiles. The greatest menaces to humanity, outdone by toddler maneuvers .

Now, onto Kurtis...Kurtis is a member of an organisation dedicated to stomping out evil, particularly sorcery and alchemy (thus pitting him against the big baddie, Eckhardt, who looks like he just got done trying to audition for the part of Auron from Final Fantasy). He’s supposed to come across as some sort of bad boy with magical powers, but honestly he’s a boring, ugly, fucking Broody McGravelvoice with no personality. You get to play as him for all of 3 (or was it 4?) levels, and boy oh boy, you will hat him throughout all of them. Somehow, and I didn’t know it was possible, somehow he controls WORSE than Lara. He moves like he’s got a broom up his arse and jumps like he’s on the fucking moon. His levels feel like they were some De-mastered edition of Until Dawn, full of enemies that serve no purpose other than to drain you of resources, and are capped off with the worst boss fight ever, thanks to twitchy auto-aim and Kurtis’ shoddy controls. Like fucking Mark Williard at the end of TR3 was more feasible than this cavalcade of bullshit. Also the first time he meets Lara in the Louvre, the cut-scene is just so unsettling and creepy, she should’ve just beat his arse into the tiled floor there and then. I seriously hope he’s dead.

And the ending... What a bloody disappointment; Lara wanders off into a dark passage after killing the bigger bad, and then...nothing. No credits, no “the end” screen, the game just shits you back onto the “Press Start” screen.

But in the end, after all was said and done, I think my opinion of AoD has shifted somewhat. I don’t hate it like I thought I did, I’m just, I dunno, disappointed...This game had so many good ideas that were handled so poorly, and it certainly wasn’t helped that, at least on the PC version, it was a glitch-fest and the controls were piss-poor. And as a final insult? Jiggle physics. I’m not fucking kidding like Core Design couldn’t iron out the bugs and do something about the arse-backwards controls, but they gotta make sure dem jiggly titties are in there? -_-’ Fucking hell what a dumpster fire of a game. Like I want to like it but the fuck-headedness of it all just, just no.

#rant #video games #gaming #tomb raider #tomb raider angel of darkness #tr6 #tr: aod #lara croft #idk i just #feel very conflicted about this game #opinions

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