#there are people out there who are dangerous and filled with evil intentions and who actively go out to hurt unsuspecting people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

williaml0ver · 2 months

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Ok ok ok, hear me out- Naib x a charismatic!sunshine!reader who tries his best to cheer everyone up in the manor 👀👀

☆ <3 Naib Subedar With a Sunshine Like s/o ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1213

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, Naib's a little grumpy

[🖇️] author's note: first of all THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVER i'm emotional thank you so much 😭🫂 i honestly wasn't sure how to portray reader's personality well sooo this may not entirely be focused around it but i tried my best in sneaking some traits here and there, hope you'll enjoy this!

☆ ☆ ☆

-You make his stay at the gloomy manor more bearable.

-Wouldn't understand you at first, because what's so nice and exciting about having to stay in this cursed place?

-He would have some suspicions towards you. He would be convinced that you're hiding some cruel intentions behind this bright smile. You would quickly notice how strange he's acting around you, and yeah, he is kind of stiff around most people, but you're feeling a whole new level of coldness here.

-Naib's attitude would spark amusement among other manor residents, at some point the rumous get to you.

-What can you say, you did feel surprised, thought felt a little bad for the mercenary, his life was probably filled with many dangerous moments and he grew cautious of his surroundings. Who can blame him?

-You decided to get closer to him, step by step. Start with something small, like initiating short conversations. His answer would be very short at first. That challenge is not for the faint hearted. You won't give up.

-Naib would just notice a weird pattern how you recently started talking to him more and eventually sense danger. He'd make himself clear and possibly threaten you.

-I think the best way to make him let his guard down is to have a honest conversation with him. Let him known your thoughts. Naib, slowly, would actually open up to you.

-Whenever in a bad mood, he would unconsciously be looking forward to seeing you again. There's just something about your smile, positive attitude and the little jokes you make. He craves comfort.

-Let's make this clear: he has no idea why you're being so kind towards HIM. He'd see you casually handing out small trinkets and laughing together with other people who did much more evil things than him, but he would still be in denial, does he really deserve this?

-Yet something would make him appreciate your way of being. Something would make him want to be near you, spend more time with you... get together with you?

-Yeah, it was a hard thing for him to admit he's got a crush. How awkward would that be... he definitely isn't saying that out loud.

-Funny thing is that you've also grown fond of the green hooded boy. Overly grown. There just was something about his cautiousness and hints of mystery. You quickly spotted how diffrently he started treating you compared to others lately. You even caught him softly smiling during your small talk.

-It wasn't long until you became a couple. One would think Naib would not make the first move, however he wished to show his gratitude to you, he just wasn't sure how!

-The mercenary ended up giving you a simple boquet of flowers. But what really touched you was his speech. He was usually a man of few words, so you quickly understood how important this was to him. His speech felt very honest and emotional: Naib was touched by so many things you have done for him, although for you they were something absolutely ordinary.

-He would feel relieved that you accepted his feelings and feel shocked finding out you feel the same.

-Spending time with you on a daily basis made him change his personality a little. Yes, he would still be THE mercenary when needed, no doubt, but overall he'd become more open. Seeing him go from someone very closed off to a suprisingly cheeky person made you melt. You felt glad that you helped him grow.

-Isn't afraid of showing PDA.

-Whenever someone new enters the Oletus manor they would immediately feel like this is some inside joke between the both of you, because how would that even make any sense? A cold hearted mercenary walking hand in hand with the literal definition of a ray of light? Truth is, you are a great match for Naib! Your relationship is perfectly balanced.

-Perfect example of a grumpy/cheerful duo.

-It was not a rare sight to see the mercenary utterly tired after his matches. Being a rescuer was a demanding position. It was a good thing other players trust and depend on him, but on the other hand the big pressure can cause a huge toll on his calmness.

-If someone got chaired, everyone else expects Naib to go to the rescue, even if he's currently far, far away. Of course, Naib learnt to control stress and work in difficult situations much before he even found out about the manor, but that didn't change the fact that post-match he'd isolate himself from everyone else.

-From everyone else besides you.

-You are his escape from reality. His soft spot. Naib has no idea how you've did it, but you managed to win him over completely. You're always trying to make him smile with this mysterious comforting aura, whether it's with words of affirmation and telling him he's done all in his power, how strong and devoted he is or with gentle touches, like holding his hand and kissing his palms.

-It's therefore no secret that during his bad days he wants you to be near.

-You can spend several together hours together just laying and cuddling. He lives for your smile.

-Naib appreciates how you comfort him after tough days and he comforts you in hours of need as well:)

-I wouldn't say he's very private when it comes to pda, though he's not overly affectionate in public either. He would have absolutely NO SHAME. You're needy for his attention but there are other survivors around? Don't worry! Naib is already patting his lap, awaiting you. He loves how you don't care what others think of your behaviour.

-Does not care about his reputation anymore. Those people know you are his soft spot. Just because he's gentle with you doesn't mean he's going to be merciful for everyone else. Someone dare to complain about you being annoying - they would be quickly receiving the glare.

-Naib would ALWAYS feel very protective over his s/o, no matter what personality would they have. He is a mercenary, a soldier, if his loved one wouldn't have a thing against being with someone like this, he'd become a total keeper as long as he is breathing.

-And when you're so positive almost all the time? Wanting to make sure everyone is feeling good? He would be all over you. A lot of, if not most people, residing in the manor were, to put it simply, bad people, so to have someone so pure next to him would turn him quite possesive.

-Of course, he is aware you are not stupid. You are aware of who the people you spend time with are. The world is not all unicorns and rainbows, you know that. He's going to understand if you show you're feeling uncomfortable with being constantly monitored. He'd try to withdraw from doing it but sometimes Naib can't help it. It's both the protectivness and the jealousy.

-When jealous, Naib would love to come near you and the person you're talking with, hug you from behind and be very affectionate. At some point you both gain the reputation of those people you'd see in citties kissing and making everyone feel awkward according to other people in the manor. Naib loves it.

☆ ☆ ☆

Wishing you guys a good day/night 🫂🫂🫂

#idv #idv x reader #identity v #naib subedar #idv hcs #naib subedar x reader #identity v x reader #idv mercenary

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iamafictionfreak · 6 months

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TIS THE SEASON TO BE MERTHUR!

Just... Look at them!

I miss everything about this show. Even the very bad CGI and the weak-ass plot points/armour/conveniences/contrivances.

One Christmas Eve, almost 11 years ago, the entire Merlin fandom was butchered into tiny little distraught pieces. It didn’t matter if your favourite character was Merlin or Morgana, Gaius or Gwen. The showrunners held no qualms in destroying your dreams for Gwaine or Perce. The writers did not hold back in their aim to crucify the smile on your face, to forever turn it upside down. No ship was spared. All hopes for the show to finally commit to their original intent, to bring peace between peoples, to save Albion, to allow Merlin his freedom and Arthur the truth, was brought to a bitter, fatalistic end.

Not that I need to repeat this to you, you know what happened, but it’s worth reiterating that this travesty occurred… on Christmas Eve.

CHRISTMAS. EVE.

Christmas Eve.

The night before Christmas, the night before the day where all rules are broken and we can frolic like children around a decorated tree filled with twinkling lights, our collective hearts were shredded.

This event (once we recovered a tiny bit from the shock) gave birth to a plethora of astonishingly well written, poignant, devastating, hilarious fanfictions that had helped nurse our wounds, for nothing could TRULY heal (except a follow-up season with the original characters, come ON BBC) us.

After nearly 11 years of watching these brilliant entries grow, I never thought I’d jump on this bandwagon and write my own fic.

But I've had a few very shit years, as have many people around the world, and I started to wonder as we do when we want to prove magic can still happen.

My brain decided that it wanted my hands to write the most indulgent, likely over done fic in existence for the fandom. This thought stuck with me throughout the year – I was being STALKED by myself – and wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. This hasn’t happened in a long while.

Still… you’ll eyeroll at the idea. It's so OBVIOUS, I'm embarrassed by myself.

What if Arthur discovered Merlin’s magic from the get-go, from episode 1?

WAIT. Hear me out…

So, Merlin saves Arthur for the first time and Arthur SEES. He sees his eyes glow.

He knows he should tell his father, but his instincts are screaming at him. Honour is at stake. This stranger saved his life. How could he reward it with an execution? So, a chance needs to be given, doesn’t it? A chance for Merlin to give up magic forever and live a life of goodness, to turn away from evil and serve Arthur…

Except Arthur can’t help but wonder. About Magic, about Merlin and magic, about the law and all the whys attached and his place within this chain.

But he also can’t trust this peasant who cavorts with the devil, practices wickedness but smiles like a child and offers compassion to everyone. Someone so duplicitous must be dangerous… except Merlin’s an actual idiot! And it’s getting really difficult to keep his guard up.

But isn’t that how sorcerers work? They twist the mind with pleasing ideas, they tempt and coerce, they manipulate.

And slowly, Arthur finds himself being manipulated too. For how could he ever want to trust this man- but he does. He does.

And we’ve never been allowed to see Merlin deal with a S1 Arthur who’s in the ‘know’. Who’s forcing him to keep it secret, who’s threatening him with trial by fire, a young Arthur who’s ignorant, arrogant and so desperate to understand what he cannot trust.

Then there's the layers, royalty versus peasantry, friendship versus alliances, goals versus ideals.

I want to write a fic where this trust is built from the ground up. One of the things about the show that made it impossible for me to let it go is that the ‘relationship’ between Arthur and Merlin fits exactly zero categories, yet all of them.

Master and servant.

Friends

Family

Allies

Enemies

Romantic ideals

Platonic soulmates

Absolute Soulmates

I could go on. And it's one of those rare shows where the writing would be given more oomph if the males leads had dared cross a line or two.

Realistically, they weren't even friends. They were master and servant who'd become a little co-dependant. Arthur could never admit to anything more because of his station, but would he have been able to being completely himself around Merlin if he'd known the truth? We never see Arthur truly be himself. He wasn't allowed to be, not even with his wife. There was always a wall - it was how he was raised and any attempt to develop was killed by plot.

We never saw Merlin completely free, not with a single person. He started happy and healthy and innocent. A liar. He ended up bitter and terrified and angry and alone. Still a liar.

What would he have become if there'd been one person he could truly trust- not Gaius. Not a man already broken and brainwashed by his own self. A victim of the system just as much as he perpetuated the hate and completely unaware of the trap he lived in.

Many of the characters in the show have the versatility and potential to be written a trillion different ways, is it any wonder that fics continue to be written?

Well, I wanted to explore a slow burn development of trust, with Arthur learning how wrong he was, how much he’s trampled on, and all about the seemingly normal peasant boy who meant more to the world than Arthur could possibly understand. What would they have become if they’d been given the time, hm?

When they were young - yes, I'm going there - wild and free.

What of Morgana, what if she could have trusted? What if she could have understood? Would it have turned out differently? Would she have still become the other side of Uther's coin?

Would Merlin still have ended up alone?

There’s lots more I wanted to touch upon, it’s a big what if, but that’ll have to wait for another post.

I’m writing a 5 part prologue that occurs between episode 1 and 2. I’m hoping to release it for Christmas and then take the time to write the rest of the season.

Unless… you guys think it’s a waste of time? Let me know.

In the meantime, I’m STILL SUFFERING (fucking show) and it's making me write, write, write!

(gifs not mine)

#merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #guinevere #morgana #Gaius #uther pendragon #fuck uther #potential #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fandom

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papermatisse · 7 months

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Into the Woods || Y.HS

† genre: horror, fantasy

† word count: 3.6k

† warnings: death mentions, gaslighting/tricks, abduction, faes

† synopsis: her village had always maintained the peace through fire-and-brimstone fear tactics. though who could've known that old children's fable had some truth to it...

† (a/n): second installment to my spooktober anthology! if you haven't already, do check out biaswreckingfics thrills and chills vent, in particular her fae one which helped me gain inspiration for this one!

† taglist: @scuzmunkie @hipsdofangirl @hydroyaksha

anthology | main masterlist

There had been rumors of the woods bordering the village. Of a great evil which lingered within its brush. Darkness somehow contained in the dense growth of trees that surrounded her people. That ages ago, children would go missing in the night, never to be heard from again. Their ghostly giggles seemed to resonate from the tangle of bark and leaves, luring in unaware or gullible children to their doom.

At least that's what was told to (y/n) and the rest of the children as they grew up. By the time she became a teenager, she had understood the intention of such tales. To deter children from wandering too close to the woods and its inhabitants: wolves, bears, perhaps even a dedicated rabid bunny. All dangers which lurked in their environment, inevitable in their existence, and so the only measure they could take was preventative. Ensure children were within the watchful peripheral of an adult, and therefore safe from nature and its cruelty.

Perhaps that's why she deemed it acceptable to gather the berries by the edge of the woods. It was all just a tall tale to ward off children either way. She was a grown adult now. Fully capable of fending for herself and accepting the consequences of her actions—although she made note to be quick in her foraging.

Pick the berries. Get out. Pick the berries. Get out.

Her mantra cycles listlessly through her head, becoming white noise as she filled her basket with the succulent delicacies she'd later use in her baking. The sun still beamed overhead, indicating the plentiful amount of time she had left of the day to be able to prepare some treats for her siblings.

As if by a grand coincidence, a familiar sound seemed to waltz through the air, greeting her ears with its comforting yet unexpected lilt.

"Nell?" (y/n) called out habitually, whirling around at the sound of her sister's familiar voice. Nothing. No one. The village was a fair distance away, with its usual hustle and bustle a mere muted drone to fill the otherwise still atmosphere. Definitely not close enough for her sister's voice to carry this far.

She waited another moment, eyes scanning the fields as if awaiting for Eleanor to pounce forth and startle her. Yet she was met with silence once more.

Perhaps it was her imagination. Her anxieties from being so near the woods manifesting itself in peculiar forms. Thus, she proceeded with her picking, though in an admittedly rushed manner.

Then, it happened again. Another round of giggles. This time, (y/n) shot to her feet, turning to stare out and await her sister's arrival.

"Nellie," (y/n) attempted to announce, eyes roving over the tall grass. "You know you shouldn't be out here. Mother will be displeased."

Silence.

The first time, she was able to chalk it up to mere paranoia. Though this time, it sounded almost too real to write it off as anything but her mischievous sister mucking about as per usual. However, she's never wandered out this far before in her jests.

Just as (y/n) was about to call her sister's name again, the giggle sounded forth once more. This time, right behind her.

(y/n) spun about, stumbling on her footing as she gasped at the sudden intrusion. Though when she turned, expecting to be greeted with her sister's conniving grin, she was met by none other than the woods, a mere foot away from her.

Memories of that accursed folktale came barreling to the forefront of her mind, twisting her stomach into knots as she stepped away from the trees. Even in the broad daylight, the darkness seemed all encompassing, swallowing anything and everything it seemed to get into its grasp. It was foreboding, an omen that held not even the slightest ounce of allure to (y/n), who continued to retreat from its beckoning.

"(y/n)." The hushed whisper of Eleanor's voice greeted her once more, this time certainly coming from within the woods. Her sister's exact voice. A perfect replica of it.

Again, (y/n) backed away, breath shaky as her shoulders trembled with fear. Any attempt to spot Eleanor peeking behind the trees proved fruitless due to that daunting abyss of black that consumed the woods as a whole.

"Where are you going?" The voice spoke again, a curious lilt in its tone, almost mocking in a way. (y/n) said nothing, steps widening as she kept her eyes trained on the trees.

Another giggle resounded. Gone was its joking undertones, almost entirely alien to the Eleanor she knew.

"You don't want to play?" It was a convoluted ploy, twisting her sister's words until it was a different person entirely. Another deeper voice seemed to intermingle with that of Eleanor's, overlapping in perfect syncrasy with one another.

Another gasp escaped her lips as the gravity of the situation began to truly settle in. The truth of it all dismantling every aspect of her belief system until nothing was left, uprooting her ideology until she questioned everything she once thought true.

Once the giggling began to fade away with distance, (y/n) finally turned around, making a run for the village, not daring to look back for even a moment.

Dinner was as rambunctious as it could be with a family of their caliber. Two young boys laughing and playing with their food, a father who seemed more than willing to partake in their shenanigans, a mother busy nursing the baby in her grasp, and the two eldest daughters off to the side. Eleanor laughed along with the bunch, presumably unbeknownst to her sister's forlorn demeanor since she had gotten back from her berry picking.

Though as they both prepared for bed in their shared room, Eleanor now seemed privy to her sister's silence.

"I didn't see you come back with berries," she began, voice cutting through the quiet of their room. (y/n) curled further into her sheets, attempting to push away the memories of earlier that day. Memories she never wanted to encounter again.

"I changed my mind." Eleanor chuckled at this, the familiar sound sending a shiver down (y/n)'s spine.

"Did the woods scare you off?" It was a joke, a subtle tease to prod at her sister, though at the lack of a response, Eleanor grew more stoic. "(y/n), you can't be serious. We're adults now, you should know fully well there's nothing in those woods. In all my years of living here, I've never once heard a wolf howl of any sort."

"It's not the wolves I fear," (y/n) muttered, burying her face into her pillow. Eleanor was stunned into silence for a moment, but then choked out another bout of laughs.

"Are you telling me you're scared of the fae? The story they'd tell us as kids to make us behave?" (y/n) was reluctant to respond, though this didn't deter Eleanor in the slightest. "(y/n), if it bothers you so much, allow me to go tomorrow and retrieve—"

"No." (y/n) was now sat up, staring at her sister across the room from her. The sternness in her voice shocked Eleanor, her smile slowly fading as she saw the pure, unadulterated fear lying beneath (y/n)'s gaze. "We're not going anywhere near those woods. Never again."

Days seemed to pass by without any other phenomenal hindrance. Though the memory of that day plagued her mind, and that sinister voice seemed to haunt her dreams, (y/n) continued with her life, however weary as she was. Her body was wrought with fear and it was beginning to take its effect. From simple mistakes accumulating into one big mess, it was clear (y/n) was not in her prime. Though there was nothing more she could do, what with this suffocating paranoia all but penetrating her every waking thought.

Her nightmares were as vivid as could be, and seemingly always followed the same sequence. (y/n) walking mindlessly into the brush, pushing aside branches and weaving between the trees which seemingly sprung up in her very path. And she continuously walked forth, as if on a predetermined trail ingrained in her mind. All the while, she could feel it—its stare. It watched her all throughout her journey, never sparing her a moment to herself. Suffocating her with its overbearing presence.

And at the end of her walk, her skin marred with scratches by twigs and rocks along the way, heart beating out of her chest, she'd step into a clearing. A grove of sorts. Dark and eerie, much like the rest of the woods, a canopy of dense branches overhead sparing only a few beams of sunlight into the ground. But in those rays of light, she'd see it approaching.

It took the form of a man, tall with long strides as he came forth. Handsome with deep eyes staring right into her, yet boyish features in a feeble attempt to lower her defenses. But no matter how fortified she made herself to be, it never seemed to do much once he got her.

A hand on her neck, squeezing in such a way that he could feel her pulse beating helplessly beneath his fingers and her breath growing frantic at the sudden obstruction. He contorted his body forward, crowding over her, consuming her space until there was nothing between them. A sickeningly sweet smile spread across his face, eyes manic as he laughed and he laughed and he laughed. A raucous crescendo into a deranged cackle, seizing at her every thought with its maniacal grasp.

And he'd keep her right there in that state, feeling her sanity slip away as she remained detained in his clutches for all the hours of the night. Taunting her, as if holding out her death, her sweet release from this torment, for another time. A time where he can truly have her all to himself.

Her nights were restless, her days vigilant, and at the end of it all, (y/n) was beginning to collapse in on herself. This was quite evident to her sister, the one who spent perhaps the most time with (y/n) in the first place, and as much as she tried to help, there was nothing she could do to derail her from this unending darkness she found herself collapsing into. All she could do was silently support her sister with reassurances and assistance—as much help as she could offer.

Though it was at times like these where the sisters' differences were truly apparent, and as (y/n) prepared dinner for the bunch, the barren absence of her sibling truly became apparent. With the lack of a helper in the cooking, (y/n) began worrying of where Eleanor may have run off to.

The paranoia only seemed to heighten as the table was set and the family was seated, all except the one chair across from (y/n). They were all understandably worried, though attempted to write it off as perhaps Eleanor getting caught up with something else. Perhaps a friend had invited her over and Eleanor forgot to inform the rest of them. Or maybe she was out helping one of her neighbors with a task.

But with the truth of the woods lingering perpetually in the recesses of (y/n)'s mind, she couldn't be sure of anything.

That night, (y/n) didn't sleep. She waited for her sister's arrival, something which never happened that night. And upon daybreak, (y/n) was certain this disappearance was the work of the nefarious evil of the woods. It was a certainty in her head.

However hesitant she was, the grief of having lost her sister consumed any ounce of reason or doubt within her, and with a brief farewell note upon the dining room table, she set out to seek Eleanor.

Along the way, neighbors gave brief but otherwise useless accounts of when they'd last seen her. The farmer's account validated each of (y/n)'s suspicions and fears.

"I'd seen her walk by the other day with a basket, heading out towards the fields. Didn't see her after."

Approaching the woods felt like visiting her recurring nightmares personally, yet no matter how real they seemed, they were nothing as compared to the true scene of it all.

A wall of trees towered over her, and at their feet lay that humble, lonesome berry bush. Beside it was both her basket she had abandoned long ago, somewhat tattered due to the natural elements it had faced over the past few days, as well as her sister's basket, toppled over with her picked berries pooling out and onto the grass.

The thought was bittersweet, guilt already riddling her body at the mere prospect that Eleanor may have gotten swallowed up by the woods whilst attempting to appease (y/n). As if the whole series of events they'd gone through were a result of her alone, yet as she neared the border of the woods, she knew it was not solely her doing.

She could feel her heart begin its tiresome beat, thudding violently against her ribcage. Her breathing was shaky as she stood there, a mere step away from the trees. Her feet seemed cemented to the ground where she stood, unable to back away nor finally break the threshold before her. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn back, to flee from these woods at all costs, but there was that debilitating guilt brewing within her. How could she live with herself if her sister truly did die in there?

Perhaps it was the guilt, or perhaps it was some blinding hubris which made her crave something from these trees—vindication, answers, release. Whatever it may be, the reason held her with an iron grip, and she remained where she stood, waiting; perhaps for some invitation of sorts.

"(y/n)..." the shaky voice of her sister alerted (y/n), a cold dread sinking into her being at the sound of Eleanor's voice—or more so that of a feeble replication of her voice… from right in front of her. As if she were speaking face to face with her sister. "(y/n), you came back for me."

The dense and dark brush obscured any attempts to see what stood before her, though the proximity of it had shivers running down her spine, tears pricking at her waterline at the sheer horror of it all. She remained silent, wary of whatever spectacle was being tried to lure her in. She could only compare the use of her sister's identity as something akin to a puppeteer exploiting its dolls. As if a mere guise for its audience.

It wasn't trying to lure her in anymore. It was taunting her.

Beneath the low whistle of the winds and the rustling on leaves all around, she could hear an unsettling yet rather distinct sound that made her blood grow cold. The deep and unmistakable sound of a man breathing, coinciding with whimpers of Eleanor's voice. Like he was only further proving her point of this whole charade being nothing more than a cruel mockery of her situation.

The noises grew more distant, sinking into the all encompassing embrace of the woods, daring her to enter alongside them. To finally become one with the woods and its victims—victims like her sister.

(y/n) took a tentative step forward, raising a weak arm above her to push aside the curtain of branches which concealed what lay ahead, and as she delved into the woods for the first, and perhaps the last time, she felt her world warp and twist into a demented wonderland of sorts. The trees, which from the beginning towered above her, seemed to only loom taller in their imposing stature. Shadows seemed to deepen into inky black pools of nothing all around her. Rustling leaves took on sinister murmurs, as if carrying along with it the voices of countless victims lost in these woods, as well as beckoning whispers to come further into the forest.

Her steps echoed with a hollow sound, reality seeming to distort with the discordant and ominous melody surrounding her. The further in she ventured, the more overpowering her fears seemed to become until its blinding and all encompassing existence had become the one thing she could fixate on. Her body prickled with nerves, a cool numbness tingling her skin as she willed her feet along, acutely aware of unseen eyes which probed her from the dark depths of the trees.

The air seemed to grow colder and colder, and she wasn't sure whether the trembles taking over her body were from her fear or the sudden temperature drop. Though there wasn't much room for thought, as obscure, yet ever so familiar, glimpses of the fae creature plagued the recesses of her mind, growing stronger and more vivid the further along she got, as if confirming the route she took. His malevolent grin flashed across her mind, shivering at the array of teeth ready to devour her, tormenting her as she progressed along.

Her breathing had slowly become unstable as she walked, the realization truly hitting her when she briefly turned around, only to have no idea where she had come from. What path she had taken mere steps before where she currently resided. As if the woods were swallowing her whole, refusing to ever let her slip by. And unwillingly, she proceeded forward into the never ending labyrinth, her mind somehow knowing exactly what to look out for.

It came sooner rather than later. The sudden clearing in the midst of it all. A small, unassuming grove of sorts, bordered by the impenetrable wall of trees that shrouded its existence from the rest of the world. There was an oppressive, deafening silence—a troubling realization for a forest of all things. Yet it didn't last long, as a low and distinct humming pierced through the stillness of the atmosphere, prompting her body to freeze up on the spot. It was melodic, dripping with a cruel and feigned saccharine that seemed to creep all about her.

Soon enough, he emerged. Tall as her dreams had portrayed him, with ethereal features unlike any she's seen before. His eyes were dark with an unmistakable edge that had haunted her dreams for many nights. His lips tugged into a smile as he stepped out of the shadows, and the full sight of him had (y/n) gasping. Tears welled up in her eyes at the image presented of the fae that had been targeting her. Watching her and tormenting her, driving her completely and utterly insane.

His dark eyes gleamed with a mischievous, unholy light, fixating upon her with an unsettling mixture of what seemed to be pure amusement and… hunger.

"(y/n)," he spoke, his smooth and deep timbre fitting perfectly with the rest of his personage, calling to her with his deceivingly sweet voice. "You've finally come to me."

His strides were wide as they carried him directly to her, and she was left to gawk up at him with whatever remaining bravado she may have had in her. His hands trembled as they carefully took in her loose hair, squeezing the strands between his fingers.

"I've been waiting… for so long." He leant down into her shoulder in an abrupt and aggressive manner. The sharp inhale he took had (y/n) jumping in her spot, tears freely falling down her face as he finally stepped back to stare at her, and she finally got to see him upfront for the first time. Making direct eye contact with the abomination of the woods.

His laughter burst forth in a raucous and chaotic way that had her wincing away as much as she could. Though the sounds soon dissipated as he opted on brushing her head with his large hand.

"Oh, your sister… Such a pity." He smiled again, eyes darting about to every square inch of her face, almost admiring her as one would an artwork.

"My… sister?" (y/n)'s voice was broken and mangled, barely above a whisper, though loud enough in the still quiet of the woods. He grinned at her words, a fond and appreciative smile that had her pulse quickening at the mere sight of it.

"Her fate was sealed the moment she ventured into my woods."

(y/n) felt her heart shatter at the news, throat constricting upon itself as she shut her eyes and openly wept. Her body seized in on itself, near the point of collapse had it not been for the fae who forcibly kept her standing upright against him.

"A useless thing, but her sacrifice was necessary for our meeting." Again, his voice was filled with such gentle kindness that it made her utterly sick to her stomach. The grief of losing her sister seemed the primary emotion wrecking her from within, to the point that the reality of her situation had yet to truly sink in, even as the fae continued to ravel himself around her until there was no way of escaping his grasp. "Don't worry, my precious, I won't hurt you like I did her."

He brushed away the tears staining her cheeks, ignoring the new streaks that replaced them either way, merely smiling down at (y/n) without a single care in the world.

"What are you going to do to me?" She asked, voice wavering with every syllable as her body shook with tremors. And the fae just continued with his merry demeanor, unperturbed by her clear dismay and debilitating terror.

"There are fates much worse than that of death. You've stepped into my domain. And now… you're mine forever."

#cix fanfiction #cix fanfic #cix x reader #hyunsuk x reader #hyunsuk fanfiction #hyunsuk fanfic #yoon hyunsuk fanfiction #yoon hyunsuk x reader #yoon hyunsuk fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #cix fic #hyunsuk fic #yoon hyunsuk fic

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holystormfire · 2 months

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How can I recognize manipulation in myself and others?

2 Corinthians 12:16-19

Some of you admit I was not a burden to you. But they still think I was sneaky and took advantage of you by trickery. But how? Did any of the men I sent to you take advantage of you? When I urged Titus to visit you and sent our other brother with him, did Titus take advantage of you? No, of course not . . . Everything we do, dear friends, is for your benefit.

Taking advantage of others for our own benefit is manipulation. A manipulator tries to gain things at others’ expense.

Proverbs 12:20

Deceit fills hearts that are plotting evil; joy fills hearts that are planning peace!

Jeremiah 9:5

They all fool and defraud each other; no one tells the truth. With practiced tongues they tell lies; they wear themselves out with all their sinning.

1 John 4:6

But we belong to God; that is why those who know God listen to us. If they do not belong to God, they do not listen to us. That is how we know if someone has the Spirit of truth or the spirit of deception.

Deceiving someone to get what we want or to make ourselves look good is manipulation. If we find ourselves twisting the truth to get what we want, we are probably being manipulative.

Amos 5:11

You trample the poor and steal what little they have through taxes and unfair rent. Therefore, you will never live in the beautiful stone houses you are building. You will never drink wine from the lush vineyards you are planting.

Amos 8:5-6

You can’t wait for the Sabbath day to be over and the religious festivals to end so you can get back to cheating the helpless. You measure out grain with dishonest measures and cheat the buyer with dishonest scales. And you mix the grain you sell with chaff swept from the floor. Then you enslave poor people for one piece of silver or a pair of sandals.

Cheating is often a form of manipulation. It is a plan to take something we don’t deserve because we feel entitled to it. It changes the landscape of fairness.

Mark 12:40

But they shamelessly cheat widows out of their property, and then, to cover up the kind of people they really are, they make long prayers in public. Because of this, their punishment will be the greater.

Hypocrisy —when what we say doesn’t match what we do – is a form of manipulation. We pretend to be a better person than we really are in order to get something we want. If we need to put on a façade for others, chances are we are being manipulative.

Nehemiah 6:9, 14, 19

They were just trying to intimidate us, imagining that they could break our resolve and stop the work. So I prayed for strength to continue the work . . . Remember, O my God, all the evil things that Tobiah and Sanballat have done. And remember Noadiah the prophet and all the prophets like her who have tried to intimidate me . . . They kept telling me what a wonderful man Tobiah was, and then they told him everything I said. And Tobiah sent many threatening letters to intimidate me.

Intimidation is a form of manipulation. When the manipulator can’t entice, he may try to intimidate or pressure you into submission.

Galatians 4:17

Those false teachers are so eager to win your favor, but their intentions are not good. They are trying to shut you off from me so that you will pay attention only to them.

Isolation is often a form of manipulation. We should cautious when someone tries to isolate us from Christian influence. Whether it is an intentional attempt to manipulate us or not, it can have a dangerous impact on our faith.

Judges 14:15-17

Samson’s wife came to him in tears and said, “You don’t love me; you hate me! You have given my people a riddle, but you haven’t told me the answer.” “I haven’t even given the answer to my father or mother,” he replied. “Why should I tell you?” So she cried whenever she was with him and kept it up for the rest of the celebration. At last, on the seventh day, he told her the answer because of her persistent nagging. Then she gave the answer to the young men.

Emotional pressure, nagging, and guilt are often used to manipulate. If we use these weapons, we are guilty of manipulation. Instead of these, self-control, encouragement, and forgiveness should be our tools for building relationships.

Romans 16:18

Such people are not serving Christ our Lord; they are serving their own personal interests. By smooth talk and glowing words they deceive innocent people.

Proverbs 7:21

So she seduced him with her pretty speech. With her flattery she enticed him.

Jude 1:16

These people are grumblers and complainers, doing whatever evil they feel like. They are loudmouthed braggarts, and they flatter others to get favors in return.

1 Thessalonians 2:5

Never once did we try to win you with flattery, as you very well know. And God is our witness that we were not just pretending to be your friends so you would give us money!

Psalm 12:2

Neighbors lie to each other, speaking with flattering lips and insincere hearts.

Flattery is often used to manipulate. It can be difficult to tell the difference between a sincere compliment and a false one. This is why we tend to be so vulnerable to flattery disguised as compliments.

Daniel 6:5-7

So they concluded, "Our only chance of finding grounds for accusing Daniel will be in connection with the rules of his religion." [6] So the administrators and high officers went to the king and said, "Long live King Darius! [7] We are all in agreement-we administrators, officials, high officers, advisers, and governors-that the king should make a law that will be strictly enforced. Give orders that for the next thirty days any person who prays to anyone, divine or human-except to you, Your Majesty-will be thrown into the den of lions.

Pride makes us particularly susceptible to flattery. King Darius was manipulated into endangering his most trusted advisor, Daniel, because of his pride.

1 Thessalonians 5:11

Proverbs 27:6

Proverbs 28:23

Love and truth form the difference between flattery and encouragement. Encouragement finds the good in others and inspires them to greater good. Flattery says what makes others happy with us—not necessarily what is true. It is better to inspire a friend with hard truths than leave them lost with gentle lies.

Proverbs 21:14

A secret gift calms anger; a bribe under the table pacifies fury.

Exodus 23:8

"Take no bribes, for a bribe makes you ignore something that you clearly see. A bribe makes even a righteous person twist the truth.

Proverbs 15:27

Greed brings grief to the whole family, but those who hate bribes will live.

Bribery is a dangerous form of manipulation, because it seems well-intentioned. Sometimes, to avoid an awkward rejection of a gift, we simply take it. But gifts and other benefits tap into our natural and good desire to respond in kind—which tilts our judgment at a deep yet subtle level.

Matthew 7:15

“Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep but are really vicious wolves.

Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep, but are really wolves that will tear you apart.

Jude 1:8

Yet these false teachers, who claim authority from their dreams, live immoral lives, defy authority, and scoff at the power of the glorious ones that pretends to be the Good News but is not the Good News at all. You are being fooled by those who twist and change the truth concerning Christ.

False prophets and false teachers are manipulators. They pretend to have good news for us, but they are really seeking to take from us.

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venticuliao · 1 year

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the role of the fatui in teyvat

is childe evil?

the opinions on this are always split. i dont think it matters whether he's kind to his family or whether he wouldn't hurt innocent people, characters can be multi dimensional and still be evil.

childe is a nice guy, he treats his subordinates respectfully and follows his own orders while still having his own agenda. he says he believes in the tsaritsa's goal, whatever that is, and that he thinks of himself as a weapon. because of this, he lends his strength to her cause while at the same time using those instances as her harbinger to improve in the battlefield.

when shiki taishou asked him if he had an end goal in labyrhinth warriors, he said he didnt. he'll sharpen himself as a weapon for as long as he can, there's no goal mark.

a new star approaches

in liyue he was tasked to lure the geo archon out to get his gnosis. since he couldnt get it peacefully with the initial scheme (exuvia was empty), he had to turn to plan b. this wasnt a last minute desperate trick, because he had to prepare the sigils to awaken osial in the first place. but like he said, he didn't intend to involve innocent people and he tried not to use this plan.

speaking objectively, harming people was not the goal of the whole thing for childe, the threat of harm was. and we know he was supposed to do all this, in accordance to zhongli's own plans. the city was never in actual danger, whatever childe did.

so, in terms of actions, he didnt do shit. the results is he did no evil deeds, and what he thought he did was planned by zhongli. and in terms of intention, he didnt mean to harm the innocents either. he had no intentions and did no actions that cause harm.

so is he evil?

it all relies on hypotheticals with him as a character. could he have done harm? is his awareness that he could have done harm what matters here? does he justify it to himself with the tsaritsa's goal? do the ends the tsaritsa promises justify the means?

the tsaritsa's goal

we dont know what the tsaritsa's plan actually is. if we choose to believe it is noble enough to justify the sacrifices, it's only blind hope. the organization gets down to really shady stuff, they use their soldiers as tools without much care, both the lower ranks and the harbingers themselves: signora's death remains unaddressed, despite her thinking it would cause a diplomatic issue with inazuma, and pulcinella's reaction was pretty tame. arlecchino is the only one who resented it, and they themselves arent a harbinger out of loyalty to the tsaritsa, since childe tells us they would betray her in a minute.

there's harbingers like childe and signora who do speak of the tsaritsa's goal highly, but there's others like scaramouche and arlecchino who were in it exclusively for self gain (the fatui use them as tools in return either way).

evil in teyvat

those who do cause harm purposefully in teyvat are usually motivated either by the pursuit of a form of power (archon war, childe seeking to improve himself, scaramouche attempting to become a god, etc) or by karmic resentment (osial after being defeated, azhdaha who was abandoned, scaramouche taking revenge against the raiden gokaden, dvalin being forgotten by the people of mond, etc).

azhdaha and osial were both imprisoned to prevent the harm they would cause, and zhongli understands their resentment. he treats both as old friends, not as enemies. liyue is filled with gods that zhongli killed, and xiao still has to deal with the resentment that outlives their physical death (and demons he himself carries karma for). but neither the killing or the imprisonment were intended as a moral punishment for those involved, they're measures zhongli took to protect liyue. and he doesnt resent or morally condemn azhdaha or osial.

in sumeru, the dangerous pursuit of knowledge is treated like something inherent in human nature. alhaitham compares them to organisms that live out of light. and cyno says the rules of the akademiya are meant to protect the scholars from themselves.

rather than tied to morals, evil in teyvat seems more of a force of nature that has to be dealt with. but if it's killed, it still remains.

how exactly did the harbingers end in the fatui?

we only know of childe, signora, scaramouche and (allegedly) pierro's origins.

in general terms, they're characters whose nature became incompatible with teyvat.

signora became the crimson witch to destroy monsters that were ravaging the nation, but her own form is dangerous, so people hunt her back. this is a kind of "evil"/harmful force that needed to be either killed or contained for the survival of teyvat's people.

scaramouche was deceived into believing he didnt have a place among humans. when his creator says "hes too fragile as a human and a tool" in HoOD, she means using him like a puppet is too cruel due to his humanity, but he has more value to people as a puppet, so others will end up using him. niwa could have proved otherwise, but alas. either way, scara's nature was pretty much incompatible with humans.

all we can theorize is that pierro is a khaenri'ah survivor, which speaks for itself

but what do u do when you no longer can be a part of the world you live in? where do you hide?

the fatui might be using the harbingers as tools, but they're also sort of containing them as a refuge. in signora's case is much more explicit, since the cryo delusion contains her dangerous form. the power that they have would otherwise run loose in teyvat without a place like this to channel it.

given that the only other solutions are imprisonment or death (or in cases like scara's, emotional pain), do they really have a choice in where they end up?

which brings me to childe

childe cant undo his experience in the abyss. and he carries a part of it within him (not just foul legacy, but the change he went through itself).

of all things in teyvat, the abyss is the only one that cannot coexist with its natural world. it's feared and rejected, the very existence of it is harmful to the continent.

childe's own family put signed him up in the fatui because they could no longer handle him after coming back from the abyss.

childe himself, like the other harbingers, has a nature that is incompatible with the rest of teyvat. and his is in a darker pit because it comes from the abyss itself.

if he wasnt in the fatui, where hes provided enemies to channel his need for battle, could he really exist somewhere else? it's not like he can undo falling into the abyss or its repercussions. he didnt choose it in the first place.

on the question, "is childe evil?", the answer most people come to is he isnt, but he does choose to do evil for the fatui.

but regardless of if he actually believes in the tsaritsa's goal, after all this, does he truly have a choice?

#genshin lore #childe #genshin thoughts #ramblings #please dont be a catholic in this post

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themetabridge · 6 months

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I've always had a deep respect for those who find solace and a path toward compassion in their faith. In contrast, some use their faith as a bludgeon. A justification to isolate. To judge. To dominate and control.

I think most fundamentalists fall into this latter camp.

For those who don't know Paul and Morgan are Christian influencers. Morgan, at one point tried to a have a career in music. She struggled with depression and anxiety and claims she found Christ and serenity through her husband Paul. They now openly reject mainstream entertainment and the licentious ways of Hollywood and the music industry; maybe, as Harvey Weinstein and the string of sex scandals have shown us, not without some merit. Although personally, I do not believe that the cure for excess is deprivation.

In this video they address and have a dialog with more fundamentalists Christians about a very important topic:

IS TAYLOR SWIFT A WITCH?

Like a lot of their content, this premise is laughable.

Or would be if it hadn't taken hold so deeply among a small, powerful and increasingly aggressive minority of fundamentalist believers. Ignorance can be a weapon.

Paul and Morgan come down on the more progressive side of fundamentalistism "Taylor Swift is filled with evil, but not a witch that's ridiculous. And you can curse sometimes". The opposing view is much more hard line.

What struck me about this video is how much it reminded me, not of my own days at church but of similar debates I've had around the Dungeons and Dragons table. Arguing about the intentions and mental state of mindflayers, dragons or other mystical creatures of lore. Why? Because both are fundamentally exercises in imagination.

If the relationship these people have with God was genuine, or if the God they all claim to believe in was real wouldn't this debate be unnecessary? Wouldn't it be impossible? If the divine experience was truly a universal one, there would not be such a subjective fracturing of its experience. The divine and omnipotent would be felt universally, like fear or love or the taste of mint peppermint patties.

Instead it is divided into religions, which are divided into sects, which are divided into sub sects which are divided into petty informal fractional conflict like what we see here.

People can like or dislike the taste of mint peppermint patties. But all of us, when we taste one can identify it from some other flavor. In contrast the abstractions and stories we tell ourselves are infinitely fungible, perfectly subjective and completely at the mercy of our hidden psychology.

What I see when I watch these discussions between opposing camps of fundamentalism is not an uncovering of some obscured objective truth, but a conflict during a session of shared story telling. The same way I and my dorky friends might have a disagreement about whether a mindflayer should be susceptible to a charisma check, here is a group of people arguing about the rules of a game they all play in their heads.

This is not an inherently bad thing. The activity is social. It builds cohesion. It is necessary even. The conflict can sometimes be a happy one, filled with levity and the joy of that comes from elaborating on a shared frame of reference. Flirting is this kind of game. So is friendship. It's good for the soul.

The problem arises from the coercion. They are calling this woman a witch. This is a silly thing that can become dangerous quickly. A handsome YouTube couple discussing if someone is or isn't evil and or a witch doesn't pose a direct threat to anyone. But what if this shared story becomes widely accepted? Taken as truth and played for more than a joke? What if it is given some kind of actionable power?

We have the answer. It ends in the murder of women, the wretched and the socially isolated. We've seen it play out in cultural and historical context after cultural and historical context.

And there is nothing funny about a silly story told as the truth when someone's life is on the line.

#ex fundamentalist #athiesm #faith #christianity #fundie snark #ex fundie #ex orthodox #long reads #short reads #witch #taylor swift #taylornation

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radiopixelctive · 6 months

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Pizza Tower Spice'd Backstories: Remixed

( under the cut )

Pierrot Mozzarella

a 42 year-old man who gained an inhuman power of electicity from just pulling his fingers into an electric outlet while being an extremely curious and dumb teenager. He's half italian half french, so that's why his name is Pierrot and that's why he owns a pizzeria. He was always a weirdo, but in a good way. almost always positive and optimistic, for some reason. But one day his parents were gone, and Pierrot had a hard period of time in his life due to his loss (which made him depressed in his 30's) and lack of job. Pierrot then decided he will leave the town and start his own business by making and delivering pizzas, which he was not bad at. he was working in his own pizzeria for several years all alone without any help, but he was pretty good at his work nevertheless. Of course, he was tired and exhausted at the end of the days from these delivers and cooking at the same time. he even wasn't paying attention to the huge tower next door. but there was one day - the day of Giovanni's and Sam's arrival. these three were working together for like a year now, without any harmful or big incidents.

Giovanni and Sam The Hamster

Giovanni is a gnome which cooks a nice and fresh pizzas for his family and neighbours, and Sam is an overgrown hamster and Giovanni's friend which delivers his pizzas to the other gnomes and people who lives in the Fresh Grove. after months of living in the tower, Gio got bored by just spending his life in the place he knows for a long enough time. He decided to leave the tower of pizza with Sam and observe the world. As it was clear, they didn't go really far away and stopped at Pierrot's pizza place. The gnome was working there as a pizza delivery man with his overgrown hamster buddy. Everything was pretty good the whole year until SpiceMiss came over and kidnapped him for her own goals and reasons.

PurpleBell

He was just a little pepper when he found out about the charms of mechanics and devices. PurpleBell was learning on how to use tools and stuff, he was really onto it. He's thinking it is the best and interesting thing on the earth, and nothing can be better than being a mechanic/engineer. The pepper was concidered as the almost best mechanic of the tower, or at least of the 1st floor of the tower. PurpleBell was proud of his works and projects, but then he decided to try something else. When he had enough money, he suggested to be an "f1" big key keeper, ready to fight against the ones who ever try to steal the key and/or go further up the tower with not-so-good intentions.

The Impartial

a brave and justice-filled swiss cheese creature with a cool grey cowboy hat, who IS aware of what he really are. When he was little, his grandfather, John E' Swiss, was his only family member so far. He taught his little grandson how to use weapons for good purposes, because he knew his grandson wanted to be a kind but fair fighter for justice and peace in the tower. When Impartial's grandfather died, he was really upset, but he didn't gave in to his grief. He was and IS a good justice warrior. He kept his money in his money box to be a "f2" big key keeper, knowing that it will be hard but important job to do, since he swore to his grandfather and others that he'll protect the tower from any danger and evil, even if it depends on his own life.

Neddy & Nelly

twin siblings, both 21 years old. Nelly was a really mischievious but supportive kid, and Neddy… he was just mischievious and a bit troubled kiddo. Of course they had and have some relationship problems, like, they argument with each other sometimes, but hey, that's a typical sibling stuff, c'mon? After their college, both of 'em found a nice jobs in the tower. Neddy have his own TV show where he does extreme and weird stuff, which kinda stresses him out, and Nelly have her own cafe with a good enough reputation. Neddy had alot enough money to be a "f3" big key keeper, and Nelly didn't wanted to be left behind, so she also payed some money to be partly a keeper, just to support her bro. Since Pierrot's arrival to the tower, Neddy noticed how weird, in his opinion, he was, so he started calling him "weirdo". He found some pluses in fighting the french italian, which are his show's possible reputation raise and the title of a good big key keeper.

Fierrot

A clone of Pierrot who's a fuse of two different types of Pierrot clones, which was the smartest of any other clone ever. but soon enough, it realised that it is just someone's doppleganger, and decided to not be someone else. It wanted to be an unique person. Its abandoned pizza place was, well… abandoned. And it lived there after leaving the factory it was created in. It, surely, tried to cook some pizzas, but it was bad- no… horrible! it was upset and downed, but one day… it heard a music. it was so nice and so wholesome! thought Fierrot and followed the sweet call of the tune and notes. There was a little radio, which somehow still worked and was turned on. But Fierrot didn't care who or what turned it on, it was only fascinated and charmed. It took the radio to its pizza place, carefuly placed it onto his counter and decided that it will not make food, no! it will dance! it will make it's business by doing something it loves and amazingly can thanks to it's stretchy and flexible body, and not just by copying someone's success! So it shapeshifted into it's very own unique style, being more original, and made a few permanent clones (which is now a janitor, a DJ and a head of special effects) to help it with some things. But time passes, and nothing in it's business changes still. It was saddened again, and for a complete accident, it has found Nelly's Cafe nearby. It thought that it can spend some time there, probably even find some friends. Fierrot came over to the cafe and sat down by the counter. It saw Nelly and The Impartial talking about something, looking like best friends. It decided to join their conversation, and it was successful. Now, with a good pair of friends, it had more confidence. but nothing worked, once again. It was feeling downed and almost depressed, but suddenly its janitor told him about the "big key keeper" thing. It got determined and excited again, and it was sure this time everything will be neat! It was happy, until it found out that to be a big key keeper, it needs money to pay. Luckily, it knew a person who could give it some money on credit - Nelly! She had enough money, and was very kind and understanding person, so she gave Fierrot it's needed amount of money. It promised that it will thank her by giving her the same amount back in the future. Now, once it became a "f4" big key keeper, it felt special.

SpiceMiss/SpiceGal

SpiceGal - a glorious, modest and smart woman, but also a little crazy with her engineer stuff. Her father was always kind and nice to her, and he was supporting her interests. But why did she become a villain, you ask? First of all, She's not, she just LOVES to mischief around like a little silly girl. And second of all, she was born being just a slice, and not full pizza, so she created a robot (with a bit of AI) that is a full pizza - just like what she was dreaming about! She called it SpiceMiss, not really wanting to come up with something else. she likes science, constructing and cooks not pretty good, so she decided to build a whole huge-ass tower for her creations and other creatures to live in! Everything was balanced, until two of the tower residents decided to leave. She thought that if they will find a place that's may be better than her tower, then they'll tell about this place to everybody in the tower, and her tower will be abandoned. SpiceGal was not liking this idea, and she (or rather SpiceMiss (there's no big difference anyway)) decided to kidnap the gnome. as a "bonus", she wanted to blow up Pierrot's pizza place, which she then changed her mind about, when Pierrot was already half-way to the top.

#pizza tower au #pizza tower spice'd #backstory #pierrot mozzarella #Giovanni (pts)#Sam the Hamster (pts)#PurpleBell (pts)#The Impartial (pts)#Neddy (pts)#Nelly (pts)#Fierrot (pts)#SpiceMiss (pts)#SpiceGal (pts)#idk i just felt like doing a slight remake of their backstories #not sure if the word “remixed” is fitting here tho but whatever #i was so nervous to post it for some reason....

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that-irishman-fan · 1 year

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complicit/a charlie lonnit x reader fanfic

FANDOM: The Devil In Me/The Dark Pictures Anthology

GENRE: A one-shot edited fanfic and unrequested, simply me indulging!

SYNOPSIS: ( SPOILERS AHEAD ) Charlie has been accused of being complicit after a clue is found to lead his friends to believe he might not be who they think he is, though the one he loves is quick to step in. This would be my loose take on the guilty complicit ending for Charlie if he survived it.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Spoilers for the game, swearing, implied then blatant crush, and angst!

As always, Charles Lonnit had become the villain of the story, if that was the right term to describe his predicament. There was nothing he could have done to quash the accusations. Stop the theories flying out from the mouths of people he had trusted. What had been on that tape incriminated him for an evil he hadn’t committed in the first place. Any fragments of trust left in him had shattered before his very eyes. Suddenly he was the guilty one. The role of the co-conspirator who wallowed in unspeakable sin had been ascribed to him. A wolf in sheep’s clothing crawling amongst them. Would his crew ever believe that he was their friend again? Whatever the case, he knew in the immediate moment that grave danger lurked around every corner; and that it was likely he would fall into its clutches if he could not convince his friends of his innocence.

Complicit. What a foul word to speak. A stinging bullet fired from a merciless shotgun. He wouldn’t have dared to call himself a saint, but to say he was a sinner beyond redemption cut deep.

Complicit. If they truly believed that, why not be done with him? Carve it into his chest and throw his body to the birds. Have him face the heavens for an omniscient, mysterious god to recognize him for the traitor he was and cast him into the blackest hellfire.

Complicit. Nine letters, nine evils manifested. He was none of those.

“ I’m not buying it. ” a voice soft in caution interrupted in the darkness. Mark and Erin turned towards the direction where Y/N stood, their fists clenched to their side. Surprise replaced the defensive expression on his face, his brows arching upwards over the frame of his glasses. His heart did a leap inside his chest, hope lightening the burden he carried on his shoulders. The metallic taste of fear on his tongue subdued. A breath he didn’t know he was holding pierced the silence. What were they playing at? Did Y/N have doubts that he was involved? Or was he hearing what he wanted?

“ What do you mean? It’s all right there, Y/N! Do you want me to rewind the tape? ” Erin cried, seizing the cassette player from its spot on the table.

“ If Du’Met is capable of building this fucked up murder castle, I imagine it’s not a stretch to assume he could edit this to fit whatever purpose he had. Think about it, Erin. You’re a sound engineer, do you really believe that Charlie was complicit in this whole thing? ”

Complicit. There was that word again.

“ Look at the other one, then! Use your fucking head, I’m no traitor! ” Charlie butted in, his indignant rage getting the better of him in the moment. Mark was noticeably quiet, trying to gage who to trust from the sidelines.

“ Shut up, you don’t get a say in this matter!” Erin fired back, doing as Y/N had instructed her. She clicked on the other tape recorder, ear perked to listen for any evidence that would convict him. Fizzles of worry sparked in Charlie’s stomach, for a reason he could not explain. Why he was so nervous despite not having any malicious intent to begin with was past him. The second he heard his real voice fill the room speaking nothing but the truth, that anxiety died. A sob caught in Erin’s throat, her eyes dark in a mixture of shame, fear, and anger Inside of him, his mean streak revelled in her guilt. Seeing her wrong gave fuel to that inferno of bitter pleasure next to his white hot fury at the entire situation. Yet, there came a tiny pleading voice in the back of his mind that reprimanded him. Was he really going to hold a girl responsible for her completely sensible terror? Nonetheless a sweetheart like Erin Keegan who did not possess an evil bone in her body. No, he wouldn’t stoop to that level.

“ See what I mean? Du’Met is trying to divide us so we’ll turn on each other. It’s another one of his sick psychopathic turn-ons.” Y/N whispered, keeping their tone neutral as was possible.

“ I agree with Y/N. It makes us easier to pick off one by one. If Charlie really was the bad guy, wouldn’t he have tried to lead us off into more danger? I haven’t seen anything like that.” Mark replied, casting a calm look towards his boss.

“ I’m so sorry, Charlie...” came Erin’s quavering reply, to which he gave a stern but forgiving glance at.

Gratitude blossomed up in Charlie’s chest, the most towards Y/N, who was talking to Erin. A flower of love sprouted for the screenplay writer across the room. Whether he wanted to get down on his knees and thank them or kiss them, he could feel himself falling harder for them. No longer was he the guilty one. If he could only get off this accursed island, he would make them see he was more than innocent.

‘ If I get out of this circle of Hell, I swear to give up smoking and make them mine. The only crime I’m complicit for is for falling head over heels for you, Y/N.’ he thought, a small assuring smile playing on his thin lips for the first time in the previous few hours.

Complicit. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be complicit if it meant his dreams were fulfilled.

A/N: God this was total shit, but I wanted to write something for my sweet British baby boy Charlie even if it wasn’t up to par with my normal standards. I fucking love the Dark Pictures games and Charlie Lonnit most of all, and wanted to express it as best as I could! This anthology has become my entire life the past month, the amazing people on this platform in the fandom helping to find another passion of mine which I thank them for!

I’m going to tag the coolest person I know @itscrimsonsixx for this fanfic, I’d love to hear your opinion on my writing here if that’s cool with you, bestie! Everybody please have a fantastic New Year and enjoyable rest of your Holidays! Thank you so much for reading!

#@that-irishman-fan #the dark pictures anthology #the dark pictures #the devil in me #the dark pictures the devil in me #charlie lonnit #the devil in me charlie lonnit #the devil in me charlie #charlie lonnit x reader #the dark pictures x reader #the dark pictures fanfiction #my shitty writing

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svtcarat-exo-l · 2 years

Text

Wayfinder - Part 1

Part of The Syndicate AU Series

Mafia!Yuta x Street Racer!Y/N

A/N: It's here! That's right - the first story will be Yuta's! Another member’s story will intertwine with this one. Guess who? I'm really excited to share this with you all, so enjoy! - Love, M.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Good and Evil.

Right and Wrong.

Peace and Chaos.

All pairings that are seemingly opposites - things that do not mix. At least in a perfect world they wouldn’t, but this world is not perfect. This world is full of grey and ambivalence and neutrality. Yet, life wouldn’t be nearly as interesting without that middle ground where those concepts that shouldn’t mix-

Do.

-----

You reveled in being able to lead two starkly different lives that never coincided.

One spent running a quaint bakery with soft yellow walls on a quiet street corner surrounded by the aroma of coffee with nothing but the occasional burn or knife slip to worry about.

Another standing on cold midnight streets washed crimson in the glow of neon lights. Where the asphalt practically vibrated with raucous laughter and booming music, and the scent of gasoline soaked adrenaline was strong enough to make first-timers dizzy. Where the addictive tinge of looming danger lingered heavy in the air.

Half of your life belonged to the night. The track.

Street racing.

Your boots pounded down the barren alleyway that led to tonight’s starting line hidden deep in the gritty, labyrinthine underbelly of the city. An October wind whistled around you - serving as a reminder of just how cold it was getting.

You settled further into your jacket to fight the chill.

Not too long ago you had found these streets menacing. As if they were sentient - the breeze whispering it's intent to harm you, but now their specific white noise was oddly comforting.

Urgency quickened your steps. You'd never hear the end of it if you were the last one to the rendezvous location.

Renjun had called everyone together to discuss something before tonight's race got under way. He had been acting strange lately. Well, strange for the head of an illegal street racing organization. You hadn't been able to figure out why he set up a pretty straightforward race when he had been really ramping up the heat over the past few weeks, but you assumed this meeting would fill you in.

After a few more strides - a familiar shadow joined yours on the wet pavement.

“I’ve never seen you this late before, Y/n.” A voice teased.

You recognized it instantly and glanced over at Mina as she fell into step beside you. The energy that came from the track already buzzed off of her. It made itself known in the eager bounce of her gait and the wicked smile painted across her red lips.

"You aren’t on time either.” You scolded her playfully - gently shoving your shoulder into hers.

Mina was a driver. A relative newbie who had made a name for herself through sheer skill and attitude. More importantly, she was your closest friend. She taught you how to remake your image as a shield. Together, you had carefully crafted your look until it was almost certain no one from your mundane life would recognize you.

She threw an arm around you, laughing and urging you to walk faster. “We should hurry before Renjun sends out the cavalry to find us.”

And you knew he would if you were even a minute late. To call Renjun overprotective was a severe understatement, but it was only because he worried. Jisung and Jeno probably spent more of their time watching both of you than they did watching the boss himself.

Speaking of, Renjun stood waiting underneath a streetlight - his freshly bleached hair shining like a beacon. Jeno and Jisung weren't in your line of sight, but they were definitely nearby for security’s sake.

Renjun straightened as you and Mina approached, and you noted the light blue that frosted the ends of his new hairstyle as fuel for teasing later on.

You belonged to a very short list of people who could get away with it. After all, Renjun had hand picked both you and Mina.

She was one of his drivers, and you were her navigator.

It was your job to provide support via radio during a race. If the police busted the track, you got her out of it. If she got pushed off the course, you got her back on. If she needed a detour you found it. A completely rubbish driver could win races if they had a good enough navigator.

And you had become the best.

Good enough that you’d been recruited for Renjun’s personal line up after winning back to back races as a team. You joined the other driver he selected, a magnetic personality named Jaemin with the electric blue hair to match, in manipulating the race results.

When said blue-haired driver also stepped out of the shadows you realized this meeting was more serious than you’d thought - considering every person Renjun sponsored was present.

The sight of Jaemin had you subconsciously checking that your mask, your extra insurance, was still in place over the lower half of your face - because unlike everyone else you hid your identity. In fact, staying anonymous had been your one condition in working for Renjun.

He and Mina were still the only people who had seen your face.

You had to watch the way the reputation weighed on Renjun and Mina. Jaemin, too. They had to look over their shoulders every time they stepped outside - always anticipating an attack from a vengeful rival or someone who lost money over a bet, and you had no desire to have to live that way.

Admittedly, maybe you weren't as brave as your friends, but just knowing that no one could hunt you down outside of the track made it even easier for you to settle into your life as the 'genius navigator'.

The thrills kept you coming back for more. It was the ultimate adrenaline rush with no consequences.

And you had loved it.

The feeling of power. The prestige. The whispers that followed your every move. The feeling that you’d finally found an extraordinary skill. It all fed into a darker part of yourself that let you put on a dangerous show every night.

The four of you settled into a loose circle, your breath visibly mingling in one cloud in the crisp air.

“I know it’s risky for us to all be seen together, but this conversation had to be done in person. I'll make it quick.” Renjun scanned the area cautiously as he spoke.

You also had to try and shake the irrational fear of being watched.

Everyone present had reason to be wary. If the crowd ever learned the ring-leader had nearly complete control over who won the races and subsequently their bets - the results wouldn't be pretty.

“What’s going on, Jun?” You asked - trying to ignore the way his features still softened when he looked at you to answer.

“We have some guests tonight.”

For the first time in a while the boss looked nervous. His fingers tapped against his thighs almost unconsciously and his brow furrowed even more that usual. If these guests were making him antsy - you certainly weren't excited to meet them.

“Tell me it’s not another driver from Brazil." Mina tried to joke, but even from her it felt forced. Unperturbed, she turned to Jaemin with a mischievous smile to poke fun at him. "You barely won that race.”

Jaemin feigned hurt with exaggerated offense, but Renjun didn't give in to her attempt to lighten the mood. Honestly, it seemed to only tense him up more.

“It’s not a racer." He responded stiffly "Or a navigator. They have nothing to do with racing-”

“Then who?" Jaemin chipped in mildly for the first time. "Stop talking around it.”

The wheels turned in Renjun's head for a moment like he was trying to formulate the best way to say what he needed to. You saw the moment he gave up on subtlety - his features saying to hell with it. He spat out three simple words

“It’s the Neos.”

You could’ve sworn the temperature dropped a few more degrees at the mention of that name. While Renjun gauged your reactions - the streets themselves seemed to hold their breath with him. The heartbeat echoing in your ears was definitely your own, but it was far too fast for your liking. Shared panic pinged between the three of you and unfroze the moment.

“You invited the Mafia?” Mina hissed - giving voice to what you were all thinking.

“They kind of invited themselves." Renjun snapped, but after a breath his tone evened out. "We’re moving enough money now that their leader got word, and they want in. I can’t exactly say no, especially because we do operate on their territory.”

To the rational side of your mind it made sense. They controlled this area, so of course they'd want to keep tabs on what happens within it - get a feel for who's in charge and establish authority.

Still, Renjun's voice betrayed some bitterness. He was probably not too happy about being strong-armed.

“Are they threatening you?” You couldn't help the bubble of worry for him that burst in your chest.

“They explained their terms, and there’s a lot in it for us." He defended. "That crowd? They’re all high rollers looking for a dangerous habit, so betting is about to get a lot more lucrative, and getting their seal of approval will make us untouchable.”

He raised his eyebrows looking for everyone's assent.

It was Jaemin who broke first. “Alright, so what do you need us to do?”

Renjun's "leader" face snapped back into place so seamlessly it threw you for a second. You couldn't believe Jaemin could move past this so quickly, but it seemed Mina wasn't having trouble either when a familiar rhythm fell over the conversation.

“I want you all to show off tonight. Mina will place first, Jaemin in second. Everyone else is already on board, so use any skill or trick you need to show them what we're made of.”

Mina and Jaemin voiced their agreement and moved to leave. Renjun, sensing your hesitance, motioned for you to stay.

In the brief silence you heard Haechan's voice carry faintly through the air. He was undoubtedly in the thick of the action holding down the fort as Renjun’s second while the man himself took care of more secret business.

You waited until the others were out of earshot before starting in.

“What are you thinking?” You demanded - worry hardening into displeasure.

“I don't have a choice, Y/N. Believe me, they didn't ask." He huffed in frustration. "Regardless of how they approached me this is a mutually beneficial deal, and- I mean, what we do isn’t exactly legal either. Who are we to judge?”

He raked his fingers through his hair and you recognized the nervous tick - catching his wrist and untangling his digits before he started pulling on the strands in his grip. With a sigh you settled his arms back at his side.

“But we aren't involved in half the trouble they are. This is deeper than I want to be, Jun. I'm not sure I want a part in underworld politics." You understood why he'd accepted their offer, but you also knew if you stepped in this far - this world might never let you go. That train of thought abruptly took you somewhere else. "They're going to want to know who I am.”

If there was anyone who could unravel your identity with ease, no matter how plain it actually was, it was them. Fear started to freeze you up until he grabbed your hands, and the touch thawed it a bit.

Deja vu hit you like a truck. Guilt followed. This was a road you didn’t want to go down again.

“Hey, trust me they will never know who you are. I'm not going to let them take that from you. I’ll protect you.” His eyes were earnest, but they only made your heart clench.

“Renjun we can't-“

You tried to pull away - both from his hands and from the moment that was getting a bit too close to the past, but he interrupted you gently.

“It’s not like that. You, Mina, Jaemin – you’re a big part of what I've built here, and I take care of my own." He made his plea. "I did my homework on these guys. My contacts say their business runs almost completely legit, and a lot of what they do actually helps the city. Some of the stories are borderline heroic."

After hesitating for a moment, weighing his reasons in your mind, you relented.

You'd also heard the rumors swirling around the Neos, the same whisperings that led Renjun to accept this alliance, and you couldn't help being terribly curious. The men in the stories told by the vulnerable and defenseless populations of the city were people you could respect. Maybe, even befriend.

More than anything, you trusted Renjun. You knew he would rather tear down everything he'd ever created than get into business with monsters.

"So we're dealing with a group of wannabe Robin Hoods?" You quipped - giving him a cheeky half smile.

Renjun knew if you were telling jokes you were giving in, and you watched as just a little bit of the tension in his shoulders released.

"They do have this thing where they don’t hurt innocents."

You knew he offered the information to calm you, but it only brought you up short.

“I wonder though." You couldn't stop yourself from posing the question. "To them, are we innocent?”

Renjun's eyes held no answers.

"I don't know, Y/N." He slung an arm over your shoulder and you let him steer you towards the track. You barely caught the words he repeated to himself. "I don't know."

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almostangrything · 2 months

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My little sibling had the idea for a story about evil pants. Here it is.

The Adventures of Larry and Jimbob: The Evil Pants Epidemic

In a lab, on a cliff, far away from any cities, several scientists were busy working. "Here, hand me that uranium," a scientist says. He fuels up the reactor, and a bright flash of light fills the room. Sitting in the beaker on the counter was a dark, black liquid. "Woohoo! We did it!"

"Daryl, this is pure evil essence."

"I know that, Terry. But still, we got it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Terry says exasperatedly. "Just get the beaker into the containment chamber." "Will do," Daryl responds as he carries the beaker. He walks into the containment chamber and sets the beaker down. As he sets down the beaker, a drop of the evil essence lands on his pants, right on the bottom of the leg, near Daryl's shoe. Daryl didn't notice, and goes about locking the cell appropriately. As he clocks out of work, he walks around, unknowingly spreading the evil essence from his pants to all the other peoples' pants. Daryl goes home, unsuspecting of the danger he had accidentally unleashed.

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As Larry MacWallace woke up, he could see the sun shining bleakly through the window in his room, which was in the attic of his house. He climbs out of bed, stretching, and walks over to his dresser to put his work clothes on. He grabs a plain, navy blue kilt and a light blue cotton shirt, and his worn-out black sneakers. He trudges down the stairs, eating some toast before going back up to brush his teeth and hair. He grabs the wool that had been spun and dyed, and places it in the basket in front of his dark green mountain bike. As he rides to his family's stall in the market square, he spots his best friend, Jimbob Johnson, in the stall next door.

Larry hops off his bike and leans it against the side of the stall, grabbing the wool from the basket. "Hey, Jimbob!" Larry calls out to his friend. "Hiya, Larry," Jimbob replies, putting the finishing touches on the display of knives, which was what his family made. "Whatcha got today?" Larry shrugs. "Some spun wool. I've get red, blue, and green, and I think I've got some yellow somewhere..." He looks in his basket. "Aha, there you are," Larry says as he places the bright yellow wool on the counter.

As the morning progresses, the fog that was slightly hanging over the city dissapated in the glare of the shiny sun. It was a perfect golden day. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were chirping, the clouds were light an puffy, a gentle breeze blew by, and Larry and Jimbob were both making very good sales. "Well, I had better go home to grab another stock," Larry says as he finally runs out of wool to sell. "Mind keeping an eye on the stall for me?" He looks at Jimbob, who nods eagerly. "Sure thing, buddy. Tell your parents I say hi!"

"Got it," Larry responds, as he kicks up the kickstand of his bike and rides out to the little farm his parents owned. Ever since he was eight, he would take his bike into the town and sell the wool that his parents collected, spun, an dyed. The city was so peaceful, that he never had to worry about danger. He loads up his bike, tells his parents, who were nice people, that Jimbob said 'hello', and sped off back to the market.

Just before he got back to his stall, he saw and heard a commotion. However, the real unusual thing about the clamor was that the people looked and sounded worried and scared, something that rarely happened in Charlestonburg. "What in the..." Larry leans his bike against his stall. "Jimbob, what's going on?" Jimbob was watching the commotion with intent. "Some guy was runnin' around with stolen goods. He looked like he was hardly in control of himself. Like his legs were carryin' him against his will." Larry looked puzzled. "Well that's odd..." "And," Jimbob continues, "The craziest part is that the police officers who were chasin' him started stealin' stuff with him. Like, anything they could get. Purses, watches, anything. They didn't want to, either, by the looks of it."

"So, it's like their legs were carrying them..." Larry ponders. "I wanted to go after 'em myself, but I didn't want either of our stands to be robbed," Jimbob explains. "Thanks, pal," Larry smiles. "So if they weren't in control, then who was?" Larry thinks for a moment. "Maybe it was their pants," Jimbob jokes, chuckling. "Hey... You might be right!" Larry turns to face Jimbob, starting to work out the mystery. "Really? I-I was joking." Jimbob looks up at Larry, considering how plausible his joke was. "Huh, maybe..." "Yeah, that's gotta be it! We're going on another adventure, Jimbob! We've got some evil pants to stop!"

As they were packing up their stalls, the man Jimbob had said started the stealing spree came running down the road and tripped. "Sir, are you okay?" Larry asked the man. "No!" He replied. "Something's going on. I work at a lab where we finally extracted pure evil essence. I must have spilled a little bit onto my pants when locking it away, because now they're evil! And it's spreading; fast, too, by the looks of it." Panting, the man stands up. "I'm Daryl, by the way." "Nice to meet you, Mr. Daryl," Larry resonds, nodding his head respectfully. "Now, I'm gonna go try to return all that stuff..." Daryl's voice fades away as he walks off. Larry looks at Jimbob, already forming a plan. "Let's pack. We've gotta set out as soon as possible."

"Way ahead of you, man," Jimbob replies as he kicks up the kickstand of his bike. Larry mounts his own bike and they set off. They lived fairly close, and had been friends for as long as they could remember, so when they got to Larry's house, Larry's parents were happy to see them both. "Oh, boys! Back so soon?" Larry's mother asked. "Hey, Mom. We can't talk much, we've got a problem to stop," Larry replies, stopping briefly to hug his parents. Mrs. MacWallace twists her lips into a smile as she speaks. "Another adventure? Do tell." Jimbob grins at her words and says, "Evil pants. And they're contagious. So, no big deal." He also huge Larry's parents before following Larry upstairs to pack for their trip.

They set down their backpacks on Larry's bed. "Alright, check list," Larry says as he goes over their adventure checklist. "Clothes, food, flashlight, self defense items, water, first aid kits, survival items." Jimbob grabs everything they would need. "Check, check, check, check, check, check, and check," he replies as he divides up the supplies. Larry puts his half in his backpack as Jimbob does the same with his half of the supplies. Larry makes sure to pack a few extra kilts, like he always did. "Got your notebook?" Larry asks. "Yep," Jimbob responds, tucking it into his backpack. "You?" "Right here," Larry replies, holding his notebook up before stowing it away in his bag as well.

The pair rush out of the house, saying goodbye to Larry's parents. To save time, Jimbob calls his parents to say that Team Dragontoes, aka Larry and Jimbob, were going on an adventure to stop evil pants. The boys ride through the city of Charlestonburg, scoping out the damage. It was worse than they thought. People were running around everywhere, stealing, vandalizing, and wreaking havoc. A few buildings were even on fire, though there were teams of firefighters everywhere. As Larry looked behind him to see that, on the other side of the street, some firefighters were struggling with a fire hydrant that was on fire, he also noticed something worrisome. "Uh, Jimbob, we have a problem..."

A bunch of people were chasing them, their legs carrying them while their arms flailed wildly. "Oh, fiddlesticks, we should get going!" Jimbob shouts to Larry, pedaling faster. Larry follows suit, speeding up. "Over here!" He calls out to Jimbob, making a left turn. They make twist after turn, eventually losing track of the group of people. "Whew!" Larry exclaims as he takes a look around. "Where are we?"

"We're on the bank of Lake Burl, I think," Jimbob replies. The bank was rocky, being covered with pebbles of all shapes and sizes. The two hopped off of their bikes and leaned them against one of the many empty crates on the shoreline. Larry sits on a crate and sets down his backpack. He grabs a water bottle and tosses one to Jimbob, who gladly accepts it, sitting down on a crate nearby. "So," Larry thinks aloud in between sips of water. "What do we know? The pants are evil, contagious, and they make people do bad things." Jimbob thinks as well. "All of their pants were controlling them, it was scary." He shudders at the thought. Larry looks out at the lake, pondering a solution. The water of the lake was lapping softly against the pebbly shore, and the air smelled slightly stale, which was probably because of the slight fog that had settled over the water in the afternoon dullness. Larry could see the forest that was behind his house. His and Jimbob's families would often go hiking.

Larry was brought out of his reminiscence by a swift kick to his back, knocking him off the crate and almost into the lake. "Oh no, I'm so sorry!" Jimbob exclaims. "I didn't mean to do that, I swear!" Larry got up and was about to retaliate when he heard Jimbob's words. "Oh boy..." He pieces the puzzle together. "Your pants! They've been infected with evil!" "First of all, they're shorts," Jimbob insists. Larry sighs irritatedly before responding, "They are, like, seven sizes too big, Jimbob! They are sold as shorts, sure, but on you, they are definitely pants!" The so-called shorts went all the way down to halfway down Jimbob's shin. The pockets were huge, and he had to wear a belt to keep them up. It looked kinda cool, but mostly ridiculous, but it wasn't like Jimbob cared.

"How do I stop it?" Jimbob asks, a bit panicked. "I don't want to kick you again!" Just then, a stray match fell out of Jimbob's pocket and truck against the rock, sending a spark flying that caused Jimbob's pants to catch on fire. He ran around, screaming, away from the lake for some reason, and up towards a derelict building on the edge of town. "Here!" Larry shouts as he throws Jimbob one of his spare kilts. Jimbob catches it and disappears behind the building, looking for a fire extinguisher. He comes back two minutes later, wearing the kilt and looking thoroughly embarrassed about not running to the lake. "Thanks... i guess I owe you five dollars," Jimbob says. "The spare kilt finally came in handy." He reaches into his bag, but Larry stops him. "Nah, it's alright. I'm just glad you're not hurt," he says. "You don't feel evil, right?" Jimbob thinks or a second. "No, I suppose I don't. That's quite a relief." He laughs slightly before gasping. "Larry, that's it! Getting everyone to wear kilts will stop the spread of the evil pants!"

Larry grins as well. "Excellent! Let's go up to Mr. Plink's kilt store and tell him! Team Dragontoes!" Larry starts dragging his bike up the bank. "If he's still around, that is," Jimbob reminds him as he follows. "Right... Well, we won't know unless we check!" Once they were on more level ground, they raced up through the Charlestonburg streets to the kilt shop, which was luckily still intact and open. Mr. Plink, who, like Larry, always wore a kilt, was looking quite bored, but lit up when he saw the boys. "Hello, boys!" Mr. Plink enthusiastically greeted them. "I haven't had a single customer all day, it's been quite boring." "Well, you're about to have a lot of sales," Larry replies. "The evil pants have been preading rapidly, but the evil doesn't spread to kilts!" "Wonderful!" Mr. Plink exclaims. "Well, then, let's get started!" He grabs some kilts along with Jimbob and Larry, and they rush through town, spreading the kilts to everyone.

After a long day of work, they had finally stopped the evil pants. As Team Dragontoes lies on Larry's bedroom floor, writing about their adventure, they laugh while recounting the day's events. "I think the title should be 'The Adventures of Larry and Jimbob: The Evil Pants Epidemic'," Larry says. "Perfect," Jimbob replies, writing the story title on the page. "Another win for Team Dragontoes!" "Huzzah!" Larry adds. The two laugh before going down to grab some dinner.

PLEASE KEEP THIS ON TUMBLR. DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE. THANK YOU!

#adventures of larry and jimbob #writing #stories #larry macwallace #jimbob johnson #gay

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timeclonemike · 4 months

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Meet The Villains

Right Hand Versus Left Hand: The plotline of the main quest has been summarized as "two supervillains try to conquer the world at the same time and trip over each other's schemes and also there's a third guy" which dispenses with a lot of nuance (and character development, lore, and side quest hooks) but is otherwise accurate. The "Main" Villain is called Silas Van Der Horne, an Occultech researcher and Rationalist; he is the first character the player sees in the game, as he is responsible for the ritual that summons outside forces to the universe in the form of a player to begin with. The "Classic" Villain is Ben Waters, leader of a conspiracy within the government of Veck with the intention of taking over the country and then immediately engaging in a war of expansionist conquest over the rest of the region. The "Surprise" Villain is determined through the consequences of player choices when dealing with the first two villains.

Silas Van Der Horne: Silas gets very little screen time beyond the opening cutscene until Act 3, when he becomes aware of the Hero and the party trying to stop him and takes a more active role in events; for most of Act 1 and 2 he is obliquely mentioned as consolidating his power base and doing obscure magic research. As a scientifically minded magic user, his plans are based around the harnessing and exploitation of otherwise neutral systems - natural resources, civil infrastructure, magical energy cycles - and he is directly responsible for the most iconic threats in the series such as dino cavalry, power armor, and automatons. His master plan involves building a portal to another universe (revealed in the opening cutscene to the observant) but his motive for doing so is only hinted at until his climactic battle with Ben Waters at the end of Act 6.

Ben Waters: Waters' political and paramilitary influence is an open secret throughout the first two acts and his influence on events makes him the most obvious and pervasive danger to the Hero and the Party until Act 3. Waters is alternately characterized as either a sociopathic manipulator or a necessary evil, even by his own allies and minions, and discovering his motivations is an entire side quest that is not even necessary to progress in the main quest. Waters' strengths and efforts focus on people and the social structures they belong to, so his influence is most often seen in the form of bribery, extortion, confidence games, propaganda, and brainwashing that gives him leverage over existing organizations - including the minions of Silas Van Der Horne.

Mayor Etheridge: The Honorable Mayor of Arcadia, Johan Etheridge, is introduced as a comic relief character that lampoons the concept of elected officials who are selected for their personality rather than their competence in problem solving and administration. If the player has either weakened both Silas and Waters' organizations equally, or failed to do so, by the time of their confrontation in Act 6, the end result is a power vacuum that Mayor Etheridge fills almost immediately; it is implied that his alleged incompetence was just a smokescreen to make his own staff underestimate him while he worked behind the scenes to take over more of the city than the parts he was elected to run.

General Caine: If more damage is done to Waters leading up to Act 6, General Caine of the Republic of Veck enacts martial law and attempts to purge the nation of Waters' conspiracy at any cost. This is ostensibly out of paranoia; it is eventually revealed that when Waters served under Caine in the military, Caine's strategic incompetence got his unit almost completely wiped out save for himself and Waters, and Waters was drummed out of the service to protect Caine's reputation. Caine's general incompetence and jumping at shadows means that Veck is too busy looking for the enemy within to mount an effective defense against Silas Van Der Horne's dinosaur army; whether or not Caine survives the attack depends entirely on if the Hero goes after Silas when given the prompt to chase one villain or the other, and attacking Silas then means that Caine's scorched earth tactics frame the final act.

Doctor Ashton: If more damage is done to Silas Van Der Horne's organization before Act 6, his second in command rallies the survivors around a new banner and upsets the existing balance of power by using several magically augmented "doomsday" weapons. Notably, Doctor Ashton does this even if recruited by the Hero; if relationship flags are negative, Ashton shrugs off any conflict by claiming the Hero is just as bad as his former employer, while good relationship flags show the Doctor being much more conflicted about the choice while his dialog hints at some greater danger that had been uncovered by Silas during his research.

Insecure Party Members: Other recruitable party members may turn on the Hero during the events of Act 6, but this is dependent on a combination of two factors. First, specific choices must be made in previous acts when trying to stop or slow down either Silas or Waters. Second, the party member in question must be in the active party with the Hero leading up to the climax of Act 6. This party member ends up taking over the leftover resources of the villain that loses the fight at the end of Act 6, and takes the place of antagonist and final boss for the entire final act.

Kyle: For Kyle to betray the Hero, his relationship flags need to be mostly negative, and the Hero had to both agree to destroy the Forest Temple and follow through with it. Backing out after agreeing at first shows Kyle that the hero can be reasoned with if they are about to make a short sighted mistake, while resorting to blowing the temple up when the undead threat is too obvious to ignore is a completely different situation than deliberately wiping out cultural artifacts that pose no threat to anyone. Kyle's assault on the world involves armies of undead, sentient killer plants, and plagues that threaten global famine as he tries to wipe out all civilization to start over.

Astrolethe: For Astrolethe to betray the Hero, they must have ALL their lost memories restored, and the Hero must shout them down during the argument at the Astral Planetarium by using a disparaging, objectifying insult. Shouting an insult that is NOT dehumanizing, winning the argument via rational debate, or even losing the argument completely do not undermine their trust. Astrolethe threatens the world by attempting to launch satellites to bombard the surface with various weapons and occultech devices.

Claudia: For Claudia to betray the Hero, she has to be one step away from completing the Great Work. If she is two steps or more away, the temptation is not as strong, and if she has finished the Great Work, there is nothing to tempt her with. Claudia's threat to the world involves massive environmental damage as her Great Work goes wrong and the balance of nature is corrupted.

Erin: For Erin to betray the Hero, the Subliminal Transceiver project must still be operational and the Party must either not have discovered it or ignored it during mission planning. If the Hero treats it as a serious danger, jokes about using their own depraved thoughts as a weapon against the Transceiver, or jokes about the rest of the Party not reading their thoughts at certain times of day, Erin will not panic when the Transceiver starts working on the Party and will not lash out at the Hero. Erin's threat to the world involves armies of automatons modeled after the Hero and other members of the Party, and culminates in a fleet of airships bombing every major population center.

#game design ideas #game design notes #game design #meet the villains #unreality #so far

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limetameta · 5 months

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Only a few people can understand that visceral disgust when you're looking at a person who's meant to mean you well and all you can see reflected in their eyes is the epitome of evil. If they could tear me apart and build me to be an exact replica of them, they would. If they could feed me acid day in and day out until nothing that makes me me remains, they would. If they could kill me and blame it on me and get away with it, they would. But of course, they hide their intentions behind well-meaning words and snide comments about how if only i changed one tiny thing, I would be worth more (it is never just one tiny thing) (and it is never just one tiny thing)

Like i am a commodity, and perhaps to them I am. To them who only see me as a tool that costs to maintain and doesn't give them enough value back, I am a dangerous thing to have. My words and my behaviour and my thoughts are much too ugly. They speak of a person they did not have a hand in moulding. In forcing into their fold. They see a stranger. Or worse. They see my mother in my stead. So they make sure to say how much I look like them. How if it were not for them I would not be half the person I am today. If one did not know them, one would believe they mean well. I know them. I know them well. If they could bill me for everything they’ve ever done for me, they would.

To feed me and to give me a place to sleep these four days proves too steep of a price so they must see a return and they must see one quickly. To see their only relative in so long, in ten years! It's only a reason to attack. Since they have to buy me a meal and since I'm not paying them to stay over in a stale bedroom with dusty decor, with claustrophobia inducing suffocation, then that means that I have to pretend to be their perfect replica. But my glasses are wrong you see I look so much nicer without them. I need to start wearing contacts. But my voice is too loud, why do I need to raise it? Why am I so annoyed? Why am I so neurotic? This is all my mother's fault. She poisoned me against them, yet why is it that they continously fill my blood with shit? Why is it that now that I am an adult and can see the situation clearly, they are even worse than what my mother shielded me from?

I went on vacation to visit a friend and then to be kind, to be polite and well behaved I only made the mistake of telling you. So you invited me to come, and I took you up on it, not thinking that every waking second would be an attack or a battle of some kind. Against enemies who, to be fair, have not changed at all since I was a child. Who, to be fair, still think I am that same child.

My friends made me sick. It wasn’t their words. The train to them made me sick. It wasn't their hate wrapped up in sarcasm. All intellectuals use sarcasm, of course, didn’t I know? But family is supposed to be kind. Where is your kindness, intellectual? Must my body resort to fever just so I can sleep and not listen to you? Must the only times you show concern be when I may die.

It keeps rising. It doesn't go lower. They don't mention the hospital or the doctor, because it might go down and it might not be another unecessary cost.

And the fever doesn't break and I keep hoping it'll last throughout the night and throughout the day and just so I don't have to hear them. That they can't infect me with their words, if they’ve already succeeded with their illness. And they are ill, because I saw a whole dresser shelf lined top to bottom left to right with medicine packages. But when it's time for them to give you medicine to lower your fever they deliberate, they debate, they all but fight between themselves because they have so few packages of the stuff. Can they waste it on you?

So you say, just barely, just hoping to survive one more night with them, hoping that your fever will break and you can go on your plane home: I'll pay for it. I'll give you money. Just get me meds.

Oh, they take such offence. Because you read them to filth. You know they would charge you the stale air they have if they could, but they are prisoners of politeness just as much as you are. So it is a crime and an insult to ask for someone to go buy you meds. They will buy it. They will give me everything they have.

The fever breaks after days. I am leaving tomorrow morning.

They are pretending to be sick now. That i have infected them. Yet you remember while you were sick how delighted they were that your plans changed. You had some friends you wanted to see in their city also. But you couldn't on account of dying. So they smirk and they laugh and they tease with words that sound so putridly villainous and cliche you think a child has written them: You wanted to see your little friends? You wanted to go out and have fun on the town? Well, you can't :) You're stuck here now, hee hee.

As if it's their greatest wish materialized. As if spending time with them 24/7 is what they crave. To hollow me out into a husk to burrow deep inside me and puppeter me. To steal my strength and my youth.

The fever breaks and I see them.

My lungs still wheeze. My strength is not yet back.

You have not had a problem with your lungs in ten years. The doctor is baffled as he conducts tests to check for covid and it's negative. Your blood is fine. Perfect. Your lungs are not well. Have you had problems with them in the past?

Only as a child, you answer. And what a surprise that is. That you were always at your weakest when they were around.

Cutting them off had been the smartest thing you'd done. Why did you come back? What possessed you to think that it was smart?

Oh. You think. Ten years had passed. I am an adult, perhaps they will see it as such, too. And we can mend our ways.

It's a victory to survive and to leave. Not really.

I have not won, but I have survived against your greatest attempts to kill me. I have left and I am home and I will never let you in. I will never file my teeth down for your benefit when your teeth remain, broken off because you are sick, you are decaying, you are old , sharp in my lungs. If you had only had more time with me, perhaps you would have even found my heart and you would have struck.

But I am home now. I am away. You send me messages telling me you miss me already. I am covered in sweat and blood and my lungs wheeze. And you say you miss me. But be sure, I am no longer the child who believes you. And i am no longer the adult that forgot what you were capable of.

I do not miss you.

#writing #limeta

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quietly-by-myself · 2 years

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Chapter 9 - Smoke, Salt, and Asbestos

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CW: nonhuman whumpee (changeling), "it" as a pronoun, witch hunt (literal, old-fashioned witch hunt), parental abandonment/betrayal, chronic illness, torture, post-traumatic stress/horrible headspaces, stoning, shock collar, electrocution

===

I wonder sometimes who is more vicious: the Unseelie or a small town of humans when turned against a single person. In my experience, though the Unseelie are dangerous, they aren't irrational. Seldom is the small village not consumed by irrational rage when focused on a similarly small target. For that reason, I always recommend alchemists to avoid small villages. Though the anonymity seems tempting, their favor changes like the wind and will leave you with nowhere to go but to hell.

===

Was it dusk or dawn that day? Briac always wanted to say that it was dusk, but it could’ve just as easily been dawn. What did it matter, anyway, dusk or dawn? The flames from the torches had stained the gray of the clouds red anyway.

Had Briac considered Sean a friend? That time felt so long ago. Sean’s father worked at the smithy and being around him always made Briac’s asthma worse.

Well, it wasn’t quite asthma, Briac had learned. The pain in its lungs was from the very thing that had revealed it.

Iron.

Iron in the air. Iron in the water. Iron in the doorknobs that made its hands turn red. At first, they’d thought Briac had some sort of atopy, had they called it?

However, that fateful day in July, Sean had poked Briac in the arm with a metal pole. Briac was confused until the burning, stinging, searing pain started. It screamed for Sean to stop. It screamed that it would beat the shit out of him. It had promised to take Sean to his father, the constable, for hurting it.

“Briac’s a changeling! I knew it!”

Right - Sean had never been a friend. They’d gotten into more bar fights that Briac cared to admit. Those fights were only proof of its insidious, inhuman nature. It fought a good person over nothing.

The bar had gone deathly silent. Even Briac had stopped screaming.

Changeling.

An evil word to the humans of small villages like the one it had once called home. They were the sick, horrible replacements for children stolen by the Unseelie. To utter the word could send people to their children’s sides with an iron spear.

Nobody wanted their child to be replaced by such a beast. After all, if a changeling had replaced your child, that child was surely dead. Your own flesh and blood gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by something that wasn’t even human.

Sean had narrowed his eyes at it. “I’ll give you ten seconds to start running. Since you were a good fae, I don’t want to have to make this worse than it’s gonna be.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Briac had been filled with unholy rage at the implication. “What sort of sick fucking trick are you playing on me?”

“Briac, everybody knows! You’re the only one who doesn’t.” The words had been shouted amongst the suspicious eyes watching the two intently. “You don’t have asthma. The iron from the smeltery burns your lungs. You can’t drink water because our water had iron in it. You can’t even open a fucking door without your hands turning red! How long did you think you could trick us for?”

“I’m telling the truth!”

“Like hell you are. Start. Fucking. Running.”

The tone in Sean’s voice was dangerous and filled Briac with feral energy. Without another thought, it bolted out. The only thing that protected it from its lungs collapsing was the adrenaline rushing through its body, almost entirely replacing its blood.

Briac heard the clamor of angry voices and raised pitchforks behind him. Iron pitchforks. The torches, lighting the walls of the buildings in the late-dusk darkness, came next.

“Kill him!” Briac could’ve recognized that shrill scream from anywhere. “Kill him! He stole my son!”

Briac paused in its tracks, turning around to see its mother. There were tears in her eyes as she screamed for his death.

“Die! Die you fucking monster!”

She’d picked up a stone and thrown it at him.

For a minute, Briac could’ve sworn that the alchemist assigned to watch it had thrown a stone at its face. However, as it looked up, it realized that the rock had flown from between the bars of the cage-like carriage the alchemists had stuffed it in.

Lightly, it touched the scar under its eye.

Tears welled in its eyes as it remembered the pain of the stone piercing its cheek. For some reason, that scar had never healed correctly, even if it wasn’t from iron.

Its own mother had scarred it.

Briac cautioned a look at the alchemist in the carriage. He was watching Briac with intense caution as well, as though ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

I can’t cry.

I can’t cry in front of him.

He’ll know that I’m trying to manipulate him.

Its heart was heavy, remembering her tears and the absolute look of betrayal. How could it ever move on from having hurt her in such a way? It knew it shouldn’t suffer regret. That wasn’t an emotion of the fae. However, that part of it that had learned to be human felt regret and despair deeper than any other emotion it had ever felt before.

---

Silvanus looked at Maximilian in disbelief. “You did what?”

“We needed to have the fae creature moved for you. Someone in a different retreat was able to take him in.”

Silvanus was bewildered through the drowsy headache he knew as his migraine hangover.

“Why did you need to move him? He was my experiment.” Silvanus cringed a bit at the anger in his own tone. He hated referring to a living being like that, but it wasn’t like he had much of choice when talking to someone like Maximilian.

“You’re Keeper first and foremost, Silvanus. Though experimenting is an important part of alchemy, your role is perhaps more important than any progress towards Magnum Opus. You’re responsible for the longevity of the art of alchemy. Your job is to make sure that alchemists are safe and to keep the Library. That Library is the most important alchemical artifact we have.”

Silvanus was quiet for a long while. He’d suspected something much more nefarious when Maximilian had mentioned that Briac had been moved. However, Maximilian’s explanation made a lot of sense, even if it didn’t sit well with him.

“We don’t want you to be distracted from your true duties.”

Silvanus nodded along, pretending to be content with Maximilian’s explanation. After years of growing up around the fae, Silvanus was something of a perfect liar to people inexperienced with fae trickery. Even Maximilian who’d known him for years couldn’t tell the difference between Silvanus’ truths and lies.

“I want to ensure that he will be treated fairly. It is also my duty as Keeper to ensure that the practice of alchemy is focused on our sacred arts and does not involve more suffering than necessary.”

Maximilian nodded his head sharply. “Of course. I did much of the same during my years as Keeper. I can help you set up an audit for about a month from now. It’s best to give the poor creature some time to relax and adjust to the new surroundings before throwing everything into a storm again with an audit.”

Silvanus easily read between the lines. I won’t let you see him for a month. You need time to adjust.

“Of course, Maximilian. I only want what’s best for everyone involved. You know how difficult it can be.”

Maximilian laughed a hearty laugh. “That’s why I retired. Too many difficult moral decisions and not enough science for my liking!”

Silvanus put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you as always for your guidance, Maximilian.”

“Of course, Silvanus. I’m proud of you. Never forget that. You’ve had to overcome a lot to be where you are today. It takes moxie.”

“Thank you for the kind words,” Silvanus bowed deeply.

“No need for the traditional bows. You’re not my apprentice anymore.”

Maximilian turned around and headed towards the stacks. As he left, he waved his hand as though not a thing in the world could bother him then. Perhaps that was how it was, after years of difficult decisions wearing your morality down and pushing you into retirement to hold onto what little sanity you had left. Silvanus could only hope he wouldn’t retire before he turned thirty.

---

Cruel arms clasped onto Briac’s arms as a blindfold was tied around its eyes to match the tie in its mouth.

Briac did not fight the alchemists as they forced it to its feet and out of the cart. They never stopped when it stumbled. Briac couldn’t help but find the feeling to be too familiar for comfort.

The air changed very suddenly as its lungs began to burn. Though not as severe as in its home, Briac could recognize the feeling of iron in the air from anywhere.

It broke down into a coughing fit. The arms pushing it forward refused to relent.

“Keep moving!”

If there was one thing it knew better than the pain of iron in its lungs, it was when to bow to its betters. It didn’t want to feel the pain of the collar again, so it hurried to stand and keep moving despite all the coughing.

Eventually, they reached a room where the smell of iron faded and was replaced, instead, by that of smoke. The room was insulated, Briac soon realized. It explained well the stuffiness of it.

A sharp kick to the back forced it to its knees. The alchemist guards pushed it down onto the ground using its arms, twisting and pulling with no regard to its pain.

Soon enough, the blindfold was lifted off and in front of it stood a tall, raven-haired woman.

“Arch Alchemist Valentina will now see the fae creature that calls itself ‘Briac.’”

She waved a hand to the guard who’d spoken.

For a moment, Briac might’ve believed her eyes to be full of pity before she grabbed its hair and forced it to look up at her. The pain in its shoulders, neck, and back was made so, so much worse as the collar cut into its neck.

“Disgusting. Silvanus is an extremely talented Keeper and you had the audacity to try to bring him back to your side? By what, faking that you wanted death? I bet it was all an Unseelie trick to bring us down and steal our knowledge.”

Briac felt tears in its eyes. Those manipulative, self-pitying tears it cried while in pain.

She glared at it. “What? Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

Briac knew not what it could say that would improve the situation anymore than remaining silent.

“Shock it.”

The guards all let go as convulsions of white-hot pain, similar to the one before, flashed through its body. It screamed and clawed at its neck, begging in half-bitten-off words for the pain to stop.

“I want it tortured. I want to know who this fae creature works for and why it came to the Hall. Do not stop until you’re sure that it isn’t a threat to Keeper Silvanus’ work. If and when you can be sure of its purpose here, dispose of it.”

The guards gave a hefty, “yes, ma’am,” before lugging Briac off, back into a basement that stunk so badly of iron that Briac could hardly stand from its coughing.

The door swung open quickly as the guards clasped Briac in its iron chains to the wall. One delivered a quick blow to its side before whispering to it,

“Lucius will have fun with you.”

Just as quickly as the door had opened was it closed in the same haste, leaving Briac curled in a ball on the ground, in iron chains.

As it sat there, awaiting its fate, it could’ve sworn that its face was bleeding from the scar of that fateful day.

I wish she really had killed me back there. It would've been better than this.

===

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Tags: @hold-him-down, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @thegreatwhodini, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @nicolepascaline, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday, @myhusbandsasemni, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

#smoke salt and asbestos #whump #whump writing #briac #silvanus #cws are above #whumpblr

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purp-yam · 2 years

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The World Engulfed Pt.2

The Tainted Ancients AU - purp-yam

CW: slight language, mentions of kidnapping, slight stalking,

Y/N - Gender Neutral

<< Part 1

"Light Enchantress-! Light Enchantress Cookie!" Cherry Licorice was panting out of breath and so was Milky Choco. "Whats going on?! Where's Reader Cookie?!" Sliced Pomegranate Cookie, a beautiful and graceful cookie, but don't be fooled, she is a swordswoman despite her wardrobe. "We...we don't know.. I think they've been kidnapped and it's all my fault, I was responsible for both Cherry and Reader Cookies." Sliced Pomegranate empathized with him to some degree. "Oh Milky Choco," The palm of her hand lightly touching his cheek. "We all make mistakes, though I can't imagine your pain." Milky Choco and Sliced Pomegranate share a kiss. Cherry Licorice cringed at the sight, "Go get a room or at least do that AFTER we find Reader Cookie!" "Yes, you're right, I apologize, Cherry Licorice Cookie."

Soon after their conversation, Light Enchantress Cookie with all her grace and beauty entered into their conversation. "A-ah! Light Enchantress! You heed my call!" "Indeed I have..What is ever the matter, dear Cherry Licorice Cookie?" He stammered around with his words until Light Enchantress Cookie reassured him to relax. "What I was going to say is that..we lost Reader Cookie! What shall we do Light Enchantress?!" She took a long pause, "Come with me, all of you. I will need all of you to bring them back home." "So, you're making all of us go on this (possibly) dangerous mission even though Healer Mushroom Cookie is a literal child who barely knows how to use his healing ability?!" Light Enchantress only smiled at her complaint, that very smile that filled everyone with hope. "Now, there's no time for dilly dally, get ready cause tonight we're rescuing our dear friend Reader Cookie!"

In the meantime. . .

You, Reader Cookie wake up in a luxurious room, with you placed in a king sized bed (ooh comfy). You try to move but your arms and legs are tied up in a very vulnerable position much to your dismay. Embarrassing... ass up and face down just your luck. "Shit! I should've listened to him but instead my dumbass self had to go off somewhere.." You were cursing to yourself until you heard quiet mumbles outside of the room you were in. It was the Tainted Ancients or The Rulers of Darkness as they call themselves. They were the complete opposite of Light Enchantress Cookie and her group, they do nothing but enslave the poor cookies under their rule to make statues or anything that can be implemented in their image and for little reward. Usually a small amount of food that could barely feed a child.

The door creaks open and a tall majestic figure looms over you with a sickly sweet smile, it was Tainted Vanilla Cookie. "Ah you're finally awake my dear, Reader Cookie! You must be asking 'Oh my goodness! How do you know my name?' It's simple, I have been following your little rebellion for quite awhile now and I must say, you are the most interesting of the bunch." You stayed silent out of sheer shock. "Hmm, not much of a talker I see? Well, it's not everyday that you get to see your righteous and most famed king of Earthbread right in front of you!" The way he boosted his own ego, bleh gross. You kind of knew what type of cookie he was. A perverted, evil cookie with no good intentions in mind.

"Wh-what's your deal? Like..you do all of these evil things to my people that live in your kingdom! They have no where else to go and you take advantage of that!"

"Are you critiquing my kingly ways?! The gall! Shame! Shame on you!" For a king he sure is immature. You only snickered at him, "You're such a child!-" "You better shut your mouth or I'll put something in it, you bitch!" He made you face him, "Say something else I dare you, motherfucker!" You just looked at him, his eyes gave you chills. He takes a deep breath and gently stroked your back as if you were his pet. "Ahh..Reader Cookie, oh how you make me so mad. It reminds me of a certain cookie, hmm.. what was her name? Oh yes, Light Enchantress Cookie! She was such a pain to deal with!" "You..you know Light Enchantress Cookie? H-how? She's secluded herself for years!"

He glared at you, "Oh? Has she not told you about her past? Well she used to be Wilted Lily Cookie but, she had a change of heart. You see Wilted Lily Cookie was the most powerful of all of us Ancients (well used to). Now she's trying to save this world full of pathetic cookies such as herself."

"No! Don't say that! She is not pathetic, she was never Wilted Lily Cookie, y-you're just trying to get into my head! She would've told me!"

He only chuckles, as he gets closer and closer to your face. "Thats the thing between me and you. You know NOTHING about her than I do." He slowly retreats and calls for his other fellow Ancients to enter the room. "Ahahahah! You weren't kidding when you said you caught one of Light Enchantress' little workers!" Poison Hollyberry Cookie came bursting in with such volume! She looked rough and dangerous with spikes all over her armor and shield. "Hmm...Another weakling, how pitiful." The thundering voice of Burnt Cocao Cookie, the cold stone king of the Cocao Kingdom, the one who slays his own children in order to keep the thrown, except for one child. "Do you want me to execute them, Tainted Vanilla Cookie?" "What no! This is entertainment of course, why would Tainted Vanilla waste such an opportunity?" And the last of them, Moldy Cheese Cookie, (yuck!) she's as rotten as the rest of them except she has a bit of a bird brain (pun intended). "Why, you are correct Moldy Cheese Cookie! We're gonna do something worse than death itself." "Oooooh! Hahahah! I like the sound of that!"

You gulped as they went closer to you and...untied you? Huh? "What..the..you're letting me go..?"

"PSHHH!! AHAHAHAH! AREN'T YOU FUNNY? Of course not! We're gonna play a little game of Cat and Mouse! Be gracious that we'll let you get a 30 second headstart! Now go, run as fast as you can! 1.. 2 .. 3.. 4...."

You ran, and ran fast, fearing what would happen to you if they caught you..no you can't think of that now. Just run home no matter what, imagining the sorrow and relief of your co-workers especially Light Enchantress Cookie. "..30! HAHAHAH! Reader Cookie, you've better ran fast and far cause we're COMING!!

You were crying your ass off while you ran. Your legs ached but you still ran, you wanted to go home. "I found you~!" "Fuck, fuck , fuck!" Adrenaline reaching an all time high as you ran faster than you ever did in your life!

Back with the gang . . .

Light Enchantress and her group of heroes make progress with tracking where you were held captive. "Very good, Cherry Licorice Cookie! We have made great progress!" "Why thank you, your grace heheh.." There was an awkward silence until Healer Mushroom Cookie tugged on Light Enchantress' arm. "Erm..Momma Light Enchantress what are we doing again?" He was always clueless and forgetful well he was a child after all, still learning their healing magic, though he has gotten a little better at it. Sliced Pomegranate complained once again. "No offense, Light Enchantress Cookie but I told you this was a bad idea-" "Do not doubt her ways Sliced Pomegranate Cookie, she has a way with everything that comes around. Do you rather Reader Cookie endure possible suffering in captivity? No? Then lets get on with it." Fudge Icecream was and still is a flamboyant and eccentric cookie showing cleverness from time to time. He was even the reason why Milky Choco Cookie is still alive today, saving him from his father.

A loud scream could be heard just beyond the horizon, "It's Reader Cookie's voice! We must hurry before anything terrible happens to them!" "Yes most definitely!" As they reached closer, you're screams were louder until you ran into them and cried happily hugging Light Enchantress Cookie. You were a mess but you didn't care, you were just glad you've found your family, your friends...you were so happy to see them, and they were so happy to see you. You were finally safe..or are you?

"Reader Cookie! You are having a stern talking to when we get home but..im so glad you're safe." Milky Choco gave you a big bear hug and swung you around. "Yaay!..can we go home now?" "Nuh uh uh! Not so fast! The fun was just beginning, why do always have to ruin EVERYTHING, Light Enchantress Cookie!" The Tainted Ancients blocked their path in every direction.

"You're not leaving without a fight, especially you, son.." Burnt Cocao pointed at Milky Choco Cookie, the lucky survivor of his father's wrath. "AHAHAH! I haven't been in a battle in quite awhile! This'll be fun!" "Awwh damn..get ready guys cause this is gonna be one hell of a fight!

TO BE CONTINUED >>>>

Writer's note - I kinda rushed this cause I have school but I did have fun writing this! Thank you for your time♡

#cookie run kingdom au #dark choco crk #dark enchantress cookie #licorice cookie #pure vanilla cookie #dark cacao cookie #affogato cookie #poison mushroom cookie #pomegranate cookie #hollyberry cookie #golden cheese cookie #purp-yam

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artist-issues · 2 years

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I want to put even more thoughts down in writing about this movie but also I don't even want to relive it enough to do that.

Saddest thing for my nostalgic MCU heart to bear was the terrible treatment of Wanda. Like fine, tell me she didn't learn her lesson when her power got out of control and she tried to fix her past mistakes or achieve happiness recklessly. Tell me she didn't learn that lesson in WestView, and she's willing to kill to fill the grief-hole inside of her.

Tell me that. I might believe it. But you have to actually build up to it.

I have spent four movies and a beautiful television show watching this character develop as:

girl who's willing to let the ends justify the means until she learns that her own emotional baggage ("we wanted to change the world/" dealing with wanting revenge for her parents' deaths) comes at too high a price--AND THAT PRICE IS HURTING AND KILLING PEOPLE. She learns she is not okay with that, so she becomes

girl who tries to use her power to help, as an Avenger, but ultimately hurts people anyway...and learns that even with the potential danger of her power, she can't CONTROL their emotions about her and can only control her own actions and fears. But once that lesson is learned she becomes

girl who IS willing to sacrifice her own happiness for others (killing the love of her life) only to find that her ultimate sacrifice is meaningless, because she's still not in control. Which is hard, and for a normal person it might just have meant depression, but she happens to have unfathomable power, so she becomes

girl who loses control of her emotions and powers to fill her own grief-hole again, but on a larger scale (WestView) but then, once she realizes who she is and what she's done, that she's HURT PEOPLE AGAIN, she radically sacrifices her own emotional comfort and sacrifices the people she loves, again, turning back to an effort to control her newfound powers.

FROM THERE, we should have got a movie that wrapped that up. We should have seen Wanda moving on from her grief or getting to find happiness in new love or new healthy family. But we didnt get that. We got angry, so-done, unhinged Wanda who is basically corrupted by evil forces, (like she was in Age of Ultron) willing to do anything to get what she needs to feel better (like she began to be in WandaVision.)

So okay, if Sam Raimi wants me to believe that Wanda is willing to kill to get her kids back, I can believe it. Losing herself in grief and consequently losing control of her powers, even with the best of intentions, is kind of her whole thing. Revenge is even something she keeps coming back to, as a character. So if Sam Raimi wants me to believe that Wanda is a mass murderer on the level of a horror villain, all so she can have happiness, I COULD come around to believing him.

But you know what? You DON'T get me to believe that by writing Vision out. You DON'T get me to believe that by having Wanda, who was once a powerful girl with powers that were exploited by darker forces, be totally willing to cruelly suck the life out of a powerful girl with powers. You DON'T get me to believe that by having the same woman who, in every other film and show, falls apart when she realizes she's accidentally hurt people, ALSO spend a whole movie cutting superheroes in half, collapsing their skulls, snapping their necks, and callously walking over the bodies of crowds of people she's murdered. (And she even shows off her carelessness with quippy one-liners and snark while she's doing it.) You DON'T get me to believe that when, the last time I saw her, she was allowing her sons and husband to disappear out of existence for the sake of a small town's sanity. Not even to save their lives--just to give them a chance at happiness. Near-strangers. The last time I saw her, she was exchanging her sons, husband, and personal happiness so that near-strangers could have their normal lives back.

At the end of her character development before this movie, Wanda was a severely traumatized, grieving hero. but she was still a HERO. She was still actively trying to correct the ways she hurt others, and she was still sacrificing "being with my boys" to do that.

If you wanted me to forget that, Sam Raimi, and cheer while your annoying new starchild character beats up and ultimately leads to the arbitrary death of the character I've been following for 7+ years, then you should've done a better job.

#Sam raimi #dr strange 2 #dr strange multiverse of madness #spoilers #MCU #wandavision #vision #Wanda maxim off #Elizabeth Olson

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