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kdogreads · 2 years ago

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Sunshine

Dad!Daryl x reader fluff

Summary: Dad Daryl being cute. That’s it.

Word count: 1069

Warnings: none? Just very fluffy

A/N: This is my first time writing for Daryl so let me know what you think! I’m rewatching the series and just finished season 3, so I have major baby Judith and Daryl fever lol. Not sure when this is set, but in a calmer, safer era. I just wanted to write some fluffy daddy Daryl stuff. Enjoy! :)

Now taking requests! Message me!

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Daryl stirred awake to soft cries echoing around him. He opened his eyes and reoriented himself. He lay on his back with one arm stretched over his wife, y/n, who was asleep facing him, shoulders rising and falling slightly under his strong arm.

The cries grew louder and y/n inhaled sharply under his touch, now hearing the low whimpers for herself.

Y/n took another deep breath and rolled onto her back, starting to peel the blanket off her tired body revealing her too-large sleep shirt - Daryl’s.

“No,” Daryl whispered to her, placing a hand on her cheek, “I’ll get her, darlin’.”

Y/n sighed contently while a sleepy smile crept onto her face. She nodded slightly and turned her head to kiss Daryl’s hand while her eyes fluttered slowly closed again.

The quiet cries continued as Daryl stretched his arms above his head quickly and slid out from under the blanket, careful not to disturb y/n any further.

He made his way to the other side of the bed in two large strides, approaching the source of the whimpers.

“Wha’s wrong, sweetheart?,” Daryl cooed softly as he reached into the small bassinet on the other side of the bed he shared with y/n.

He scooped the infant up easily, tucking her into his elbow and placing one large hand on the side of her little face. Shushing her cries, he rocked his baby girl in his arms trying to soothe her.

“Shh, y/b/n, don’t wanna wake yer mama up, now,” He spoke quietly while stepping over to the old wooden rocking chair in the corner of your shared room.

Daryl sank down into the cushioned chair with a soft squeak. He held the 6-month-old baby girl closer to his chest, planting a small kiss onto her soft forehead.

Y/b/n stared up at her father the way she always did, with deep, thoughtful, inquisitive eyes. They are crystal clear blue, just like his. In a way, she looked at him the same way he looked at the world, full of questions and doubt, but trust and hope peeking out from just behind.

Her puffy baby blues softened as he held her and rocked her back and forth in the old chair, just as generations of fathers likely had before.

“That’s it, sunshine. Go on back to sleep, now,” He cooed into the top of her head as he pecked another soft kiss there, “Daddy’s gotcha.”

She instinctively wrapped her tiny hand around his large finger. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, trying to memorize the tiny divots that made them up, knowing they wouldn’t be this small for long.

The rocking of the chair drew Daryl closer to sleep, too, though he would stay put there until his baby girl was completely relaxed and back asleep.

His eyes shot over to the movement in his peripheral coming from the bed.

“I thought I was your sunshine,” y/n teased quietly, rolling over to face her husband and baby, cuddled up so perfectly together with a soft smile creeping onto her face.

They’d never officially been married, but one day Daryl introduced her as his wife and that was that. They never spoke about it again, just decided subconsciously on that day they didn’t need a piece of paper to tell people how they felt about each other. Boyfriend or girlfriend just didn’t seem to cut it. They weren’t 20-something’s messing around and simply enjoying each other’s company. This was different. This was more, deeper. Not that you could get legally married now, anyway, so they just decided on their own.

Having a baby was never on their minds until it had to be. Not a mistake, they decided, just a surprise. A risky one in this world, but one they wouldn’t trade for anything now that she was here. Their little girl lifted the spirits of everyone around them and gave them a renewed hope, something you needed to survive now.

Daryl was always fiercely protective of y/n, and now even more so of y/b/n. He’d die for them without hesitation, without a thought. Y/n would do the same for either of the members of their little family, though Daryl would never let any harm fall onto either of them as long as he was alive.

“Sorry, y/b/n, sunshine junior,” He spoke softly to his sleeping daughter, brushing the little wisps of her mother’s auburn hair off of her face.

He looked back up at y/n, a small smile curling the corners of his lip.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya, sweetheart,” Daryl apologized, a sleepy smile still stuck on his face.

“You didn’t. I couldn’t miss this view,” y/n sighed contently, “My whole world.”

“My girls,” Daryl whispered back, drawing his eyes back down to the sleeping infant in his arms. Her chest rising and falling so gently and lips twitching slightly, signaling her protector that she was really sleeping.

Daryl rose gently and moved to set her back down in her bassinet. He cared for her with a ghost-like touch y/n had only ever seen when the close group’s other babies, now older children, were small.

He hesitated over her, taking in the sweet view of her tiny facial features moving slightly. Her eyebrows crinkled together and apart, while her lips puckered up just a bit before she relaxed all of her muscles completely again. He loved watching her sleep in the deep, worry-free way only a baby could.

Daryl’s large, gentle hand cupped the side of her tiny face once more, before he pulled away, leaving her to sleep peacefully, and shuffled back over to his bed.

He climbed back under the blanket and onto his back. Y/n slid over to him, laying her head onto his chest while he wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her into him.

“Daryl,” y/n mumbled into his chest, sleep drawing her closer and closer.

He hummed into the top of her head, “‘m here, sweetheart.”

She tightened her hold on him slightly as he planted a kiss onto her forehead, brushing the auburn hair their baby shared behind her ear, “Go on back t’ sleep.”

Another small sigh escaped her lips before a slight, barely audible whisper followed.

“Love you, Dar,” She breathed.

“Love you, too, sunshine.”

#daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #Daryl Dixon fluff #twd #daryl dixon imagine #dad!daryl dixon #kdogreads

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reds-writings · 10 months ago

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hii!! can i request

10. lashing out even though they know they will regret it from the angst prompts for rust

here's some sunny and rust angst! felt like it was fitting for when she first starts helping rust!

The pointed silence bleeding from you was more unnerving than Rust thought it could be. He had lashed out, shamefully so he’d regretfully admit. Marty had pissed him off a great deal earlier today and the fact that he always had to be hovered over one way or another was igniting a frenzy of feeling particularly fucking agitated. He loathed feeling so helpless. Whether it was a fragile sense of masculinity that had been subconsciously engrained within him or he was just being a dick because he could would be a question for the ages.

The clinking sounds of dishes that the flow of sink water couldn’t drown out made him feel guiltier by the minute. It was the lack of routinely nonsensical humming during any simple task that made an impact. Your spark had been put out for the afternoon.

And he was the rotten asshole who did it.

Over what? All because you had to help him eat due to muscles of his own still on the mend from being stuck in a shitty hospital bed for weeks on end? There was certainly no need to harshly shove you away along with the plate of carefully crafted lunch you prepared to the floor in a heaping mess with spiteful curses. His resentful act had you frozen in place. Rust wasn’t the first patient to be so callous when you were just trying to do your job but it hurt all the same. He was a tough nut to crack so far in the two weeks you’ve been with him but today it was made clear your efforts might not ever be valued.

The minute wobble of your lower lip was nearly imperceptible but the glaze that took form over your eyes sure wasn’t. Hating to be seen so emotionally exposed, you wordlessly stood up to grab a few paper towels to hopelessly clean up Marty’s rug. There’d be a big stain but you were sure Rust was due for more of a verbal lashing than you would be once you relayed the day’s events.

God, this job didn’t pay nearly enough as it should with some of the crap you had to put up with.

Rust kept his uneasy gaze on the TV in front of him. Old football highlights sounded foreign to his ears as he had trouble fighting away wanting to grovel for his mistreatment towards you. The most undeserving of receiving anything in the shape of cruelty. Marty would have him by the fucking ear, that much was true, but that bothered him less than his current predicament of trying to formulate a formal apology. One that wasn’t tinged with predictable apathy or a mashup of bumbling words.

The sound of water suddenly shut off and the soft padding of your feet drew close again. His eyes darted towards your choice of socks for the day. Adorned with cartoonish succulents, a joke scrawled out near your calves: ‘What’s up succas?’ They were awful, but you had been excited to present them as soon as you stepped through the door this morning. It just made him feel more shitty.

“Would you like for me to leave early today? I can have someone else come in for your night doses and bandage dressing.” You’d never sounded so prim. It was jarring.

He fumbled for a strong answer, “...N-no.”

“Would you like me to sit away and give you space for the remainder of the day?”

Your posture was set in a stiff cast. Unease infiltrated the room, growing thicker by the second as his brain wracked through all its confusion and veining remorse. You were like a different person. Forced into the protocol of taking residence as an even-keeled, unfeeling nurse. You wouldn’t allow him the image of being thrown off-kilter by his meanness. You could only let people walk all over you for so long in these instances even if shoving away instinctual kindness and immediate forgiveness hurt.

“No.” He tried and failed at sounding more resolute. What was wrong with him?

You didn’t say anything, visibly deflating as you pressed a thumb to the space between your brows. It was clear he had you at a loss of what to do but he couldn’t hold you as an awkward hostage any longer.

“I’m sorry.” It felt as if he had to force it out of his windpipe. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Okay…”

“It was rude of me to-...behave as I did.” His eyes were everywhere but yours. If you weren’t so drained you’d giggle at the absurdity of Rust looking so timid. You straightened up to do your best at upholding your firm resolve.

“There’s no excuse for it. It won’t happen again.” He pushed out and you just nodded. A teeny smile teasing the edge of your lips. You were getting a kick out of this.

“You’re not bad to…” He hesitated and you waited.

That spark was coming back.

“...have around.” It might’ve been impossible for him to look more embarrassed than he did from his spot on the couch. You put a hand to your mouth to suppress your growing grin, turning to the side in mock thought over his apology. It wasn’t the most graceful but you figured it was something coming from him. Turning back to him you yielded,

“I will humbly accept this apology. But we have to watch whatever I wanna watch before I leave tonight. The girliest of picks to make me feel better.”

He mulled it over but knew there was no winning right away, “Sure.”

You wiggled in a mini burst of victory before plopping down on the couch, still conscious of his need for space, and smiled as you got comfortable.

“I’m thinking along the lines of Pretty in Pink. Oh! Maybe Roman Holiday-...” You rambled on about the movies you planned on torturing him with that he’d positively pretend to sleep through.

He was going to need help from whatever higher power was willing for him to navigate the colorful force that was you.

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle x reader #anon ask #writer blog #rust cohle imagine #true detective imagine #blurb #drabble #sunny universe #request

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homestuckreplay · 2 months ago

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“not sure about all this” -john egbert, 2009

(page 1022-1025 & SBAHJ 9)

Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff 9 was posted yesterday or early today, and it’s a real thinker. In this comic, Sweet Bro or Hella Jeff has presumably been ‘thrashing up stunts something uncannybrutal’ (p.452) as the other one is impressed to the point of disbelief. The skilled gamer, dressed in blue, delivers word for word the famous line of unknown literary origin, “i could tell you but but i'd would have to kill you”. Their friend, in red, is apparently so impressed by the line that half the lights go out in the room, both of their faces contort and pixelate, and the words “GOD DAAAAAAMMNN” become a beautiful horizon landscape.

This is a clear commentary on the nature of friendship. In my experience when I’m close friends with someone, I see their skills as more impressive than a stranger might, and I want to give them the same praise and affirmation that Sweet Bro or Hella Jeff does. The way I see my friends isn’t ‘objective’ and I wouldn’t want it to be; they really do have shining eyes that cut through the darkness and talents more incredible than a clear beach day. Physical attraction generally isn’t part of friendship, so when the faces disintegrate in the final panels, it’s a reminder that the bond between friends transcends the physical form.

Meanwhile, in the present, John and Rose have an INTENSE conversation about the graffiti on John’s walls. In summary, Rose is delighted to have an opportunity to really psychoanalyze John, and he’s suspicious of this – he’s having a lot of feelings, but is pulling away from discussing. I need to emphasize how Rose’s alcohol-filled house is currently on fire and is minutes away from meteor impact with no sign of Dave. She must be terrified right about now, no matter what Jade says about how things will all work out (p.838). Of course she is trying to distract herself by talking about the weird thing that’s happened to John and by totally failing to build his house. The way she talks is calm, detached and longwinded as ever, but when John mentions her situation, all she has to say is ‘Right’.

Rose originally thought that John ‘defaced [the posters] ironically’ (p.1003) but once John makes it clear that he didn’t, her only assertion is that John’s walls have been graffitied all day. John accuses Rose of ‘implying that i drew them a while ago and then forgot’, but she actually doesn’t suggest a culprit, which could be evidence that John knows about this unconsciously.

After this, she really lays out her theory on page 1024.

TT: Your presumably longstanding tendency for scrawling this imagery is really your subconsious [sic] trying to express something disturbing within you. TT: Possibly something from your past, which you have blocked out. TT: And since you have supressed it, your conscious self cannot acknowledge the drawings, therefore they have been invisible until now. EB: why now? TT: Perhaps because you have seen evidence that conflicts with the worldview your subconscious has constructed to obfuscate the truth. TT: That your dad is not necessarily the clown-loving maniac you thought he was. TT: All along, this negative attribute buried in your psyche may have been projected on to him, and subsequently reviled, as a sort of defense mechanism.

This is some aggressive exposition, Rose guiding the reader to a very specific conclusion. Repressed memories are definitely the domain of psychoanalysis but that doesn’t make Rose’s explanation the only possible outcome. To be honest, this whole story is about kids who’ve grown accustomed to very strange situations, and the blend of normalcy and weirdness that suffuses their lives. This John reveal is no weirder than what Rose found and learned in the lab, she just didn’t have another character to probe the corners of her mind about it.

Also, Rose fully attributes John’s revelation to his seeing Dad’s room, but as a trained lab scientist who knows how to control for variables, I need to point out that ‘putting on a suit’ or ‘Betty Crocker Gushers revelation’ are also possible catalysts (or a mix of all three).

I don’t even disagree with Rose. It’s just that even if she’s right, the situation is still absolutely wild. From Dad’s perspective, he saw some drawings in his young child’s room, and without asking, assumed that this would be the kid’s lifelong passion, put extended time and money into decorating the house to reflect that, did not include decorations relating to any of John’s other interests, and despite never actually discussing this with John in a years-long period, he continues to not only buy John harlequin gifts but also stay up to date on developments in the clowning world by actively reading Serious Jester magazine. That is not normal parenting behavior! I don’t find it sweet, I find it concerning that Dad basically understands John through observation – poor observation too, since he doesn’t even notice his distaste for harlequin or cakes – which is the same way John has understood Dad, but Dad is supposed to be the more responsible, communicative party!!!!

I think that’s the best explanation for John’s line ‘i felt weirdly, like... disappointed almost.’ It’s an interesting choice of word. John’s dislike of clowns and his predictable fights with his dad over this is something John holds as central to his identity, so losing that does mean losing a sense of self. But I think the real disappointment is that if Rose is right and John’s dad ‘embraces a son's hobby to establish a stronger bond’, it didn’t work. Dad got it wrong, he didn’t bond with John, he only increased any distance between them, and if Dad’s intentions were good then it is harder to be angry at him, which does lead to this directionless feeling of disappointment.

What’s really worth psychoanalyzing is John’s decision to interrupt this conversation to make a silly hat. John has these emotional outbursts in the moment but as soon as he’s got control over himself he changes the topic and goes right back to pranks, trying to deceive either or both of them, and the repression continues.

Rose provides evidence that the graffiti has always been on John’s walls – screenshots we as readers saw half a Homestuck ago on page 510. John responds with ‘they didn't look like that before. you must have changed them.’ Which is also my response to Andrew Hussie. I think if this had been planned, we’d have seen the graffiti in Rose’s previous screenshots, and while viewing through her Sburb interface, just not while seeing through John’s point of view. That would dramatically change the story though, and make the harlequins (and John’s mental state) a bigger focus much earlier on, which might have given less space to other weird plot elements – like Dave’s puppets, which are a similar idea.

So in terms of the story, the reveal of both Dad’s room and the graffiti on John’s walls put more distance between John and his dad, leaning into the unknowability of guardians by their kids and vice versa. It makes John feel even less safe in his own home and his own mind, which has been a running theme with the title, the imps, and various commands. It creates an unsettling horror presence, the idea that a malevolent clownish spirit has infected the Egbert home without either John or Dad’s knowledge – this may be connected to Nanna’s death at the hands of the Sassacre book, as Sassacre is sort of a clownish spirit. And it gives Rose a chance to flex her interests, and her and John a chance to talk about something besides Sburb mechanics, which is great for developing their relationship. So even though Rose’s screenshots being edited later make this plot twist feel very spontaneous, I can see how it contributes a lot to the comic.

It has been a while since Homestuck reminded us that Sburb is really fucking hard as a video game, but page 1025, where five crude ogres and at least thirty imps are all climbing up to John’s wobbling house, puts it into perspective. There isn’t time for psychoanalysis right now. We haven’t seen Dave for a hundred and fifty pages. Either he needs to get back right now, or we need another unexpected psycheout.

> WV: Appearify Sburb Beta discs.

#homestuck #reaction #in case anyone struggles reading tone. I am earnest and serious when I talk about homestuck but when I talk abt sbahj i am fucking around!!#chrono

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tokiwarcube · 9 months ago

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Taking down Skwisgaar's walls has been a slow, but rewarding process. To the world, Skwisgaar Skwigelf is the cold God of guitar, of beauty, of sex. But in your arms he is a man -- one who is hopelessly in love with you. He just has a hard time conveying that, sometimes. But a shared breath of smoke washes away that last bit of rubble holding his tongue in place. /// Or, in which you have very sweet high sex with Skwisgaar. Short drabble, I'm obsessed with him

A modern Adonis, with skin of sculpted marble and eyes of sapphire, Skwisgaar Skwigelf is nothing if not well-crafted. He was put together by the gods with such calculation that he’s become a god in his own right. God of beauty, god of sex — in his sheets, the sun won’t rise until your eyes are rolled back. It’s an art, and one he’s perfected at that.

But high Skwisgaar is… considerably less put together. He’s giggly, fumbling… open. His ever-present (considerably lowered after so long of knowing you, loving you, but still there) walls crumble into dust, allowing the ceaseless love bubbling behind them to flow forward over the rubble, and into you.

At some point in the night, between passed joints and swirling smoke, he had found himself not just between your legs, but in your arms, too. Indulging in the softness of your touch as your hands roam up his biceps and across his chest, the last coherent thought in his head drew his face to your neck with flushed cheeks and upturned lips. His fluttering eyelashes and hot breath against your throat draws quiet laughter from your mouth, only to be broken by lazy moans brought forth from his half-thrusts. Closing the microcosm of space between you again and again, sparks of pleasure ripple through the haze — ecstasy stretching for what feels like forever, only to be rewritten the next second.

Somewhere in your subconscious you remark on how fucked out you sound, but before you can think on it further, the thought is gone — lost in the feeling of him and the heavenly fog clouding your thoughts. You card a hand lazily through his silken blond hair, marveling at its softness. Although perhaps heavenly would be a better descriptor for your partner, especially with the way he moans in turn at your gentle touch. Fumbling hands move to pull you just that fraction closer, not to change angles, but for the pure experience of feeling your skin pressed against his.

“You ams so goods to me,” he murmurs, upturned lips heard more than felt as he presses a new kiss to your cheek. And in the brief space between you, dragging his lips up to finally connect with yours, you see the bright shine of love in his blown-out pupils. That, you don’t forget. You don’t forget it as you taste the earth from his tongue; don’t forget as the giggles between the two of you blossom into shared, shaking cries; don’t forget it as you rise in the morning, tangled in each others arms; and you certainly don’t forget it as he plucks well-practiced chords from his guitar over coffee in the afternoon.

But you know, it wouldn’t hurt to take a few more hits tomorrow, just to make sure.

A/N: If I'm to be entirely frank, I was high off my gourd when I wrote this. My cannabinoid-addled brain knows nothing, save for loving Dethklok. Thanks for reading! <3

#dethklok x reader #metalocalypse x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #metalocalypse skwisgaar x reader

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saviorpilled · 2 months ago

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confliction is what makes the heart.

(3laf rp)

vyris found maria just where they had left her.

the space was pitch black, but distorting shapes of deep blues shifted all around them, nearly mimicking earth’s trees and falling leaves. the only light was the golden sword maria was sitting before in a position of faux prayer with that damned thread laid across both her palms. her back was turned to them but she shifted and corrected her posture as vyris grew closer.

the last time either of them were here there was bloodshed. the two of them nearly ceased to be.

they were so tall standing over her. the faint warbling sound of their body and the click of their robotic arm finally got her to turn around, eyes fixed on theirs.

it had been a long few months since either of them had been together in person. despite their spats and threats, vyris found no reason to intimidate now. they kneeled down beside maria. she watched every move they made but noted their lack of weaponry. a surprise to say the very least. she let go of the thread, leaving it to gently wave around in the nonexistent wind.

the silence was suffocating. vyris scoffed. “of all places,” they droned. their voice sounded just as maria remembered it: deep, with that slight, yet so distinctly them, static trill lacing every word. “did you just bring me here to take my other arm?”

maria averted her gaze to the ground below them. she knew they were only joking yet it still stung, pierced like a knife. oh the irony.

“no,” she shook her head shamefully. “i’ve learned my lesson.” her hand subconsciously found its way to her own arm, the one mirroring vyris’ prosthetic. her thumb idly brushed across her sleeve.

another beat of silence.

“i frankly don’t know why you’ve turned down the idea.” maria was quiet for a second while pondering her choice of words. “i know… that you think you’re doing something right and smart, but like i had said, you and i both know how this is going to end.”

“you don’t know anything-“ “i think i know more than you, vyris.”

they turned finally to look at her. maria’s gaze was still to the ground.

“ive known pest far longer than you have, much deeper than you. your ‘observations’ don’t mean shit. you don’t know him the way that i do. your strives for perfection is nothing but a death wish.” vyris huffed, adjusting the clear mask over their mouth. “but what if it did somehow manage to clamor out on top, hm? will i get to laugh and say i told you so?” maria balled up her fists. “if he wins, even if it just gets close, sure. but i know without a doubt it will not be a victory because of your trials. you will not fix pest. there is nothing to fix.”

vyris looked to the sword. they stood and drew closer to it, long, clawed fingers settling gently on the tip of the hilt. “it’s not fixing. it’s awakening. our world is… cruel, uncertain, beyond here is even worse. pest- the program is far too fragile. to be a bridge you must be sturdy.”

maria said nothing. vyris continued their nonsensical ramblings.

“i still cannot get it through my head why you are so against this. you want me gone one minute, but i ask for your agreement to freedom and yet, you deny deny deny.” as they spoke they circled the sword. they trampled over the slack of the thread with each step. “what if i just took your soul from you? pierced your chest with my own hand and wrenched it out? shouldn’t i just take what i want? ‘could call it payback.”

“you wouldn’t dare.” maria stood, stepping backwards to put even more distance between the two of them. “you got your payback the moment it happened.”

vyris laughed. “‘i’m glad you think you scare me,’ yeah right.” they stopped, hand still rested on the hilt. they stared directly at maria with all three of their irisless eyes. “i don’t wish to argue anymore. i want a straight answer: why are you denying this?"

maria hesitated. there was no point in trying to skirt around this anymore. vyris was annoyingly persistent, and so she ultimately decided to spare herself the headache. “your strives for perfection are parallel to my reasoning. you want things to be exactly as you think it should be for the sake of your own gain. i want unity. i wish you were gone, i wish you didn’t exist because you’re nothing but a reminder of everything i failed to be-“

vyris froze, eyes growing wide. that was… something.

“-im no protector, no hero. you talk so much about ‘correcting’ pest to make us all whole again. but there truly is nothing to fix. you trying to change him will only make things worse. and i don’t see how you don’t see that. pest does not recognize complexities. there is only good and bad. you pushing and pushing is doing nothing but solidifying that distrust. things will not change the way you want them to.”

maria let out a breath before continuing. she was avoiding all eye contact with her other half.

“pest wants you dead. more than anything.”

“and you let it return to my dwelling?” “i was scared of you being impulsive in relation to his absence. he… doesn’t know. about the thread.” vyris sighs loudly. “you need to tell it.” “i know! but i just- i don’t know how!” maria’s body tensed. vyris almost felt bad for her. “i’m terrified because what if it ruins things?”

“you rather risk your life, everything that you’ve built, for the sake of comfort?”

…

“i guess so. what a fool i am.”

vyris takes a long breath, finally drawing away from the sword.

“it has to be you.”

“i know.”

“im not stopping my progress. i’m not stopping my creations. it’s much too late now. my analysis will continue regardless, and plans will not be altered. but you must tell him. sooner rather than later, preferably.”

“will you let me see him?”

“yes. for one night. after that it’s back to work.”

“right.”

vyris then walked past her, away from the sword, away from their thread, away from the swirling static colors making up their version of a sky. each step of their boot clicked. each click slowly turned to the deafening cry of cicadas.

until suddenly it was quiet again.

and once more the princess was left with nothing to guide her but the light of her sword.

#bowieposting #bowie originals #3laf #3laf rp #3laf maria #3laf vyris #if there’s any errors ignore them please 🙏i don’t feel like editing this a ton #anyways WEEEE pre ftyr lore !!!#sorry pestie but ur. a little screwed up!!!

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how-serene · 9 months ago

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Won't You Say That You Love Me?

Pairing - Johnson (Reprisal) x Fem!Reader

Summary - Why did you have to love another?

Word Count - 1k+

Warnings - not proofread, angst, nsfw, oral (fem receiving), mention of female anatomy, fem pronouns used, infidelity, reader is engaged, no use of y/n, first smut (still learning), mentions of guilt, reader prays for a second??, obviously I don't condone cheating

A/N - Inspired by 'This Thing Called Loved' by Stephen Sanchez.

Love was a funny thing, wasn’t it?

It was something that could mend and break, over and over again. Yet somehow, it always found a way to repair itself.

You wondered, looking up at Johnson, if love was strong enough to rebuild the damage you caused. If love was truly enough to save someone.

“We can’t do this anymore, Johnson.” You whispered, flushing from his touch. His lips caressed the edge of your jaw, peppering kisses down to your neck. He could feel the spike of your heartbeat, as you drew in a shuddered breath.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said, nudging his nose against yours. “And I’ll leave.”

Your fingers hooked around his dark blazer, subconsciously bringing him closer. His mouth burned against your skin, leaving behind seared memories you wouldn’t be able to scrub off.

“God, please don’t.” You pleaded, latching your lips onto his. The outside world melted away, as you heard him groan into the kiss. He cradled your jaw in hands, pushing toward you despite the height difference. Soft strands of your hair wrapped around his fingers like vines, as if trying to hold onto him. He smelled like sweet hairspray, comfort and familiarity coiled in your stomach. It almost made you cry. You could taste your cherry chapstick on his lips, but something else too beyond the sweetness. It coated his tongue. Nicotine.

“My fiancé-

Your words were cut off, as he harshly nipped at your bottom lip. The yelp that escaped you was swallowed back as Johnson’s tongue swiped over yours. His kiss was bruising, as if trying to leave behind an imprint. Your head felt fuzzy, as his hot mouth suddenly left yours. Sheer chapstick coated the outer edges of his swollen lips. Your chest swelled with ego, knowing the taste of you would linger for the rest of the night.

“Don’t mention him.” He said, hand trailing down your thigh. You watched, in fascination, as he slowly fell to his knees before you.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He muttered, before pushing your dress up. The fabric bunched at your hips, showcasing a set of black laced panties. Johnson carefully hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged them down, the material scratched against your skin as they fell to your ankles. You pressed your hands flat against the wall, shame pooling in your stomach as you glanced away.

“Look at me.” Johnson demanded, his quiet tone sending shivers down your spine. You caved, as your eyes met his. They sparkled up at you, solely trained on your face. The sight nearly made you fall to your own knees. Never did your fiancé gaze up at you like this, like a man kneeling before his god, to pray and worship. His hands on your skin felt like some sick form of salvation, one you weren’t aware you needed.

‘God, forgive me.’ You prayed. ‘Of all that I’ve done wrong, please forgive me for loving another.’

Then you felt him against you, as he slid the flat of his tongue over your slit. You squirmed, sighing from the sensation. His hands gripped onto the fat of your thighs, pulling your heat flush against his mouth.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, entangling your fingers in-between his soft curls. He parted your folds, his hot tongue lapping against you like a starved man. A whine bubbled in the back of your throat, as incoherent pleas fell from your mouth. You felt selfish, enjoying the sight of his worship. God, did your fiancé know what he was doing to you? He was just downstairs, waiting patiently at the bar for your return.

Johnson moaned, arousal blooming in his stomach. He hooked your leg over his shoulder suddenly, allowing for better access. He sucked at your clit, with greed and fervor. You felt your stomach tighten, eyes rolling back from the sensation.

“Please, please…” You uttered, the mantra falling from your lips.

The anticipation built, along with the shame and desire for another life. A life away from the ‘wifely’ duties that your mother ingrained into your head as a young girl. A life where it was Johnson, kneeling like this, proving his devotion.

Tears stung the corner of your eyes, as you felt heat build up in your core. It wasn’t fucking fair, for life to do this to you. To provide you a man that felt so sweet against you, yet felt so far from your grasp all at once.

“Oh, god.” You threw your head back, pressing him into you. “Johnson, I’m-

The orgasm washes over you, pulling you under its steady hold. You stumble forward, hands gripping onto Johnson’s hair as you ride it out. You hear him moan against you, as his nails imbed themselves into your skin. Stars danced in your vision, temporarily blinding you.

A sob worked its way up your chest, as tears pooled in your eyes, before falling down your cheeks. Johnson pulled your underwear back up, securing them around your hips before fixing your dress. Through your blurry vision, you pulled him down by his collar til he lips met yours. The kiss was disgustingly desperate. It was sloppy, and careless, as the taste of you on his tongue mixed with your salty bitter tears. His hands trembled as they wrapped around you.

“I wish it was you.” You whispered, embarrassed by your words. Your bottom lip quivered, something else wading on your tongue. A confession you knew there was no coming back from if it escaped you. So you left it, to sit and rot inside you.

“Don’t cry, doll.” He cooed, brushing away your tears. You burrowed into his chest, a cry leaving your throat. His hands held onto you, not ready for you to pull away. Like always.

You sobbed into his neck. “God, I wish it was you.”

“I love you.” He said, voice cracking. You couldn’t say it back, despite the urge to do so being right there.

You realized, with a heavy heart, that love was not enough to save someone in the end.

At least, not you.

What more could I do If love means what I feel for you? Won't you say that you love me? For, in your eyes, I know this to be true

#david dastmalchian #johnson reprisal #johnson x reader #reprisal 2019 #fem!reader #angst #smut #stephen sanchez

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lewkwoodnco · 1 year ago

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Cruel Summer (Part 1) - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: Based off of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Can be read as a stand-alone fic or to a prequel to the august fic (which is a prequel to the alcott fic). This fic got rlllly long and I'm finishing up the second half of this right now. For this fic, reader shares the attic with Lucy. Enjoy!

chronological order: timeless cruel summer (pt 1, pt 2) august (tsitp version) the alcott

She woke up with a gasp, broken out of what was likely the deepest (if sweatiest - she had fallen asleep under a mountain of blankets) sleep in her life. She was normally a very light sleeper (part of her subconscious was almost always awake, taking note of everything until she woke up) so it was highly disorienting to wake up without knowing anything about what had happened for the past few hours. With everyone else off running errands, she had decided to take a little nap, that became a big nap, and she could just make out the fading dusk glowing in her window. That still didn’t answer the question of what had woken her up.

There it was again, that sharp rap that had yanked her awake. It was coming from the window, as if it was hailing. She stumbled over and pushed the window open with considerable effort, still groggy from the nap she so desperately wanted to return to. She squinted, barely making out the form of Lockwood standing outside in his coat, one hand full of pebbles and the other pulled back as he took aim. He straightened when he saw her face, waving to catch her attention, as if the street wasn’t empty and she wasn’t already looking right at him.

“Hi!”

“What?”

“You sound cheerful.”

She started to close the window. “Hey, hey! I was only kidding.”

“What do you want?” She hadn’t meant for that last part to come out that whiny, but her limited patience was already wearing thin. The dusk air was cool and pleasant and the soothing twilight was painting the grey buildings with this liquid lilac glow. A gentle breeze tickled her nose, and she decided that closing her eyes for a while wouldn’t hurt.

“I’ve locked myself out, left my keys on the mantle. Lucy and George won’t be back for ages. I was hoping you could…Y/N? Y/N?” He laughed. “Did you just fall asleep at the window?”

That jerked her awake, even though she was at the brink of slipping off again. The light was fading fast, making Lockwood’s silhouette even hazier, until she could only make out the glint of his polished rapier. The cooling dusk air combined with her high temperature from being bundled in those blankets made her feel feverish, and she blamed her sleep-addled brain for making Lockwood look so delectable in the dim light. In a way, she had been watching Lockwood like this for weeks now. Stealing glances and brushes in milliseconds during the day and dreaming of him and their cat-and-mouse game all night long; so disarming and wicked and forever out of her reach, a torturous yet addictive death. As if it was too electrifying to love directly, they turned to more Shakespearean adjacent ways of loving, from balconies and windows. She was brought back to the present by the rattling of Lockwood scattering the remaining pebbles.

“Sorry about that, by the way. And this, it’s not like me to forget my keys.”

“Are you kidding? I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below.” She quipped, pulling her face from the window as she imagined him rolling his eyes. She grabbed his keys on the way to the door, and sure enough, he was standing there with a half-smile, laughing as she made an exaggerated show of forcing his keys deep into his coat pocket. His breath hitched as she drew her hand out, which felt aflame and buzzing with static even with layers of clothing between them. The devil on her shoulder urged her to take the gamble of kissing him right there on their front doorstep.

But the light shifted, and the moment passed, and they slightly stepped away from each other as she awkwardly withdrew her hand.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“How’d you guess?” She immediately felt stupid for asking that question when she had drifted off right in front of him (or two storeys above him) just now.

“You seem a little…sluggish. Like your thoughts are all over the place.” She nodded, choosing not to tell him how her haywire thoughts had nothing to do with sleeping and everything to do with him.

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

A couple of nights later, they were out on another job. She and Lockwood were in an alley, one not quite as rundown as they were expecting, waiting for a signal from George and Lucy, who were a few streets up ahead, to start chasing the Dark Spectre they were locking down on. It was taking so long that Lockwood had started fidgeting with the abandoned vending machine. Watching paint dry was more interesting than waiting around on a job while the acid of anxiety ate a hole through your stomach.

With a sudden crackle of electricity that made her jump, the vending machine creaked to life, its strained electrical hum sounding nearly deafening in the quiet of the night. Watching the exact moment the vending machine lit up Lockwood's body, giving it such a vitality that she nearly wasn't sure where the hum was coming from, enamoured her even more. As they both shielded their eyes, slowly blinking to adjust to the sudden brightness, she basked in this new wave of attraction, burning her wildly thumping heart.

It was almost unfair to be forced to stand there and watch him tap at the machine experimentally, entirely oblivious to the effect he was having on her. Lockwood was like a bad sunburn and the balm that healed it, a heat that melted her face off and the lemonade that cooled her down. It was cruel. It was a bizarre experience, to say the least, drinking stale pop in near pitch-black darkness to wash down the fear gripping their throats.

"You alright? Not too tired from all this waiting around?"

Waiting around for you, maybe. "No, I'm fine." I'm so cool, so totally normal about this, about you, about the faintly blue blinding light burning the side of your face, about the shadows on your face and in between your knuckles-

She heard rather than saw the hiss of the magnesium flare thrown up into the inky sky, quickly engulfed by darkness. They ran off almost instinctively, drinks abandoned, Lockwood's hands not long forgotten.

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

Sometimes, after a case Lockwood would cosy up in the library while everyone else went to bed. That wasn't news. What might have been news was how she sometimes crept down from the attic to join him. That was where she was right now, and Lockwood was asking if she really was alright, and it was all seeming a little hazy to her.

A few hours ago, she had slipped in a puddle of slush which unfortunately sent her tumbling down with her ribs landing on the edge of the curb with a stabbing pain. It knocked the wind out of her, but she didn't expect much from it beyond a nasty bruise, so she dusted herself off and kept running. Only after a bit of running she began to feel a painful prickling as well, and it must have shown on her face, if Lockwood's occasional suspicious glances were any indication. Later, once they were home, she realised the stabbing pain had come from some broken pieces of glass piercing her skin. With Lucy's help she had managed to get out most of the pieces, but she kept finding more as she tossed and turned in bed. Finally giving up, she had decided to join Lockwood in the library, foolishly not anticipating his interrogation.

"Well?" His tone was almost accusatory. "How bad was the fall?"

"I'm totally fine," she put on her best injured tone, which wasn't hard, given how restless picking out the fine glass had made her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Sure." There had been just a hint of playfulness in her voice, but Lockwood had picked up on it.

"I'm being serious, you know."

"So am I!"

"Are you?"

Lockwood stared at her sternly, and she returned the look. Two can play a game. He clearly didn't believe her flimsy smoothing over of the incident and she was painfully aware of that, but there was simply no other alternative.

How was she supposed to tell him that he only liked her because she was shiny and new? Whatever they had, this push-and-pull, it wasn't comforting or peaceful. It was nerve-wracking, nausea inducing, certainly not for the faint of heart. There simply was no room for tending to scrapes and bruises together, their relationship didn't allow for it. Hell, she'd die before seeming weak in front of him. And there was nothing wrong with that. She'd built up this rough, blunt exterior for their sparks to bounce off of before anyone got hurt. Sure, it didn't leave much time for the sparks to stick around, and it did create a tumultuous upheaval of emotions sometimes, but it was nothing she couldn't learn to live with.

And so she shook her head a final time, as Lockwood reluctantly returned to his tea and paper.

#anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #fanfiction #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co #fanfic #cruel summer #taylor swift #lover

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yueisyum · 2 years ago

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Don’t Think About It. (Part three)

Genre♥️college au/vacation au, enemies(not really) to fwb to lovers

Parings☎️haechan/donghuck x conflicted reader

Warnings🚨mentions of / alcohol consumption, and Use of nicknames, angsty!!!! Arguing? Sadness? Angst!!! Talking about love and the fear of love! (Philophobia)

Notes📌 This the part three, obviously. There is no smut, but there will be in part four. Yes, there will be a part four. This one is quite short, but that’s because I didn’t want to switch back to the college au in the middle of the same fic. So stay tuned for part four. And please don’t be shy, share your thoughts!

Ever since you were a kid, you made rules for yourself. Adding them as you grew older. And changing them as you experienced. Everyone has rules, wether they realize it or not.

Your rules were basic and simple. Crafted to perfection. And there were also some you didn’t even realize existed:

1. Boys have cooties(except for Johnny) << especially johnny

2. No falling behind <<< (school)

3. Date to marry experience <<< (boys)

4. Don’t be venerable <<< (liars)

5. Privacy is power

6. Stop being so understanding

7. Don’t allow others to love you (no “I love you”’s)

8. Don’t fall on love too quickly

Rule seven had a couple different reasons. Reasons that we don’t need to get into right now. But everyone who has ever “loved” you, didn’t seem to love you enough to stay; ripping pieces each time one of them left. So, you refuse to allow others to feel for you. Not truly. Always subconsciously inviting people into your life, people you know couldn’t hurt you.

But naturally, rules are meant to be broken.

Falling behind in school around the holidays.

Trusting too easily.

Being too understanding/to forgiving.

And allowing others to say those words to you. “I love you”. And you would continuously, stupidly believe them. nothing had changed. Your were always the stupid one, the girl who never understood who she was to people.

But you had rules, rules you tried your best to follow… until haechan.

•••

Muffled Music blared your ears, drawing you from your sleep. It was still dark out, but Haechan was still next to you. You were tired, but relived to feel his presence.

“What time is it?” you ask, Not bothering to check if he was awake.

“Don’t know” he responded, his voice far from tried or drowsy. You drew back to look at him, his body facing you. Haechans eyes find yours as soon as they come into view.

“Have you been awake?” You ask, your brows pinch together, He tried to act as if he had also just woken up. “Huh? No?”

You slightly sit up on the bed. “You totally were- you were watching me sleep!” You announce with a grin on your face.

“No, that would be creepy, and boring. On the other hand, watching you shower-“ you punch him and settle back down into the bed with a soft laugh. He winces but joins you in your laughter nonetheless.

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” heachan began, turning over to sit up straight. “…And believe me, I am” looking down at you with a stupid smirk. He continued “I’m afraid you have to go”

You paused for a moment.

Was all of this really just sex? You can’t believe that you let your mind slip- to forget that this isn’t real, for this long at that.

It’s just two friends helping each other out.

You reminded yourself.

Haechan pouted when he saw the look on your face, afraid you got the wrong idea. “Jenos been blowing up your phone. He’s wondering why you’re not joining the party, or why he can’t find you” He informs, hoping to ease the thoughts he knows have filled your mind. Your phone was in his hands, and you grabbed it. Looking through the notifications, you curse yourself- or Jeno actually.

Oh- Damn you jeno! What could he possibly need right now?

You sigh dramatically into your palms.

“I know” he said, his smile growing wider. “I wouldn’t want to leave me either”

You rolled your eyes and scouted from underneath the covers and his side. “Now you’ve ruined it.”

“Just as I intended” he chuckled, leaning back against the headboard, watching you make your way to the door.

It physically pained you to leave him. But you won’t acknowledge it more then that.

“Y/n?”

“Hyuck?”

“You can keep my shirt, it looks sexier on you”

“Ass” You replied, and grin plastered on your face, against your will. Then you opened the door and left with your phone in hand, making your way down the hallway.

The music slowly picking up in volume as you made your way into the kitchen/living room area. Though you saw almost no one. Until you peaked out the sliding doors to the backyard. Finally finding the sources of the music, along with at least 20 other people. Some people in the pool, some people grilling or just playing games. You smiled to yourself, you can feel that everyone was having a good time.

You decide you should change before joining them. As you make your way to your own room.

You think for a moment, you should probably check your phone.

JenO

______________________________________

|| JenO -

Hey, we are back from the store

Delivered

Where you at?

Delivered

y/n?

Delivered

Chaewon said she saw you with haechan, are you two talking?

Delivered

y/n it’s been 2 hours, are you ok?

Delivered

______________________________________

Damn it.

You enter your room, beginning to type all kinds of apologizes into your phone, when you look up to see Jeno sitting in your bed. “Jeno?”

He looks up from his phone to see you standing in the doorway… in heachans shirt…

“Looks like you two did more then just talk huh?” He was smiling, but he sounded agitated. And you can’t blame him.

“Sorry, I feel asleep”

“In his room?”

“Yeah…? Is that bad?” You finally enter the room to join him on your bed. He clears his throat while making room for you to sit next to him. “No, I mean- I don’t know” He answers, not looking at you. “I talked to Shihyun” he informs. You whip your head to look at him. His eyes still don’t meet yours. “She wants to try again” Jeno’s hands are fidgeting with his phone case. Waiting for your reaction.

“That’s great! Why aren’t you out there with her? I saw her in the pool.”

“Was looking for you”

“Why”

He finally turns to you. “Um, just wanted you to know that… that I’ve moved on”

“What!? From Shihyun? Wha- didn’t you just say-“

“-no not her, I love her” he interrupted quickly correcting your thoughts. You look at him confused. It sorta felt weird to hear him say those words. You didn’t like those words, but for some reason… hearing him share his heart to you about Shihyun made you feel as sense of adoration towards him. “Then what have you moved on from?”

“I-um… just- It doesn’t matter, just felt like I needed to say it out loud to you, it’s been suffocating me… but I’m happy that I found Shihyun, she really makes me really happy”

You can’t help but smile. Who needed kdramas when you have this? “And I also wanted to say that… uh… you mean a lot to me y/n, you are such an amazing friend, so encouraging and un-judgmental. I really appreciate you. Even if I mistook those feelings before.. I understand them now.”

You think for a moment, trying to make sense of his words. “What the heck are you going in about Jeno? Your not making any sense.” You laugh and stand up to begin looking for clothes. “I’m sorry, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t need to make sense to you, I just need to say it.”

“It’s Okay, don’t apologizes, I understand. Thanks for feeling comfortable enough to tell me” you smile while picking out an outfit to join the others in. Jeno watches you concentrate.

“I love you”

it was almost a whisper, you didn’t even hear it. He didn’t want you to. He knows how you feel about those three words. But he needed to say it. Out loud.

He really does love you, but not romantically- like he thought he did. But As a friend. As a person he was never scared to go to for help or advice. He loved you, and he would never leave you.

He smiles thinking about how lucky he is to have a friend like you.

“Okay I’ll go join the others.. meet us out there when your done changing.” He ends his rant with a pat to your head, making his way to the door. You nod and begin to change.

…

When you made you way outside, you find yuta and Yejun laughing at a joke Jisung must have made. Because he looked super proud of himself. His posture straightened, and he is puffing his chest out. Adorable.

Other groups of people, that your sure you’ve seen before, fill up the back patio.

Music and conversations fill your ears as you make your way towards the three. “Hey! Y/n! Nice of you to finally join us!” Yejun greets you with a smile and Jisung runs to hug you. “I feel like it’s been ages!”

“It’s been a couple hours ji” but you reciprocate nonetheless. “Jeno was looking for you” yuta informs with a small head nod. “Yeah I talked to him” you shrug and turn around to face the noise. Towards the People talking, and Shihyun and Chaewon are messing around in the pool. Isn’t it freezing?

“Y/n!”

You turn to your right to see Johnny running over. You try not to laugh when you realize he looks like a typical college jock. His hair is wet? Or maybe sweaty? There’s a drink in his hand and his jog looks ridiculous. Then you compare it to a dog, who’s just got done playing with the hose and you snicker even more. “What’s up?” You give Johnny a half hug and he takes another drink form his cup. Yejun and jisung continue whatever conversation they were having before you showed up. When you look back to Johnny, his face was slightly red and he couldn’t stand straight for the life of him.

He’s definitely drunk.

“Where’s haechan?” He asks, his voice is an octave louder so you can hear him over the music.

You don’t know why the the mention of his name threw you off. You felt odd. “How would I know?” You respond with a shrug. Johnny gives you the most unamused look you’ve ever seen. “Don’t give me that bullshit, you can’t tell me you two weren’t together this whole time” you slap at Johnny’s shoulder and glare at Him. “You talk really loud”

Johnny let’s out a laugh and hands you his drink. “Here hold this, he’s probably in his room, I’ll go get him.” Before you can even respond, Johnny’s running off, towards the sliding doors leading back inside the lodge.

You just stand there and look around once more. Haechan probably wants to sleep, you should’ve told Johnny that, but he’ll find out on his own.

When you spot Jeno and Shihyun in the pool, you can’t help but smile. She’s sitting on top of his shoulders, playing a game of chicken with another couple. Your smile grows when Shihyun wins and yells in victory. Cute!

•••

The rest of the night consisted of you drinking and talking with Chaewon and Yami. Chaewon was going on a rant about how people who ‘don’t like alcohol’ are ‘pussies’ or whatever. You laugh all throughout her tangent because the only person who came to mind was Jaemin. “Y/n, do you want to come with me to get more drinks?” Chaewon asks with a pout, her face was round but so perfectly defined, and her outfit looked absolutely amazing on her. You smile to her direction and nod. She always amazes you, her beauty, her amazing personality, she had no flaws. You admire her. “Where are they?” You ask.

“They are over by- Haechan! over there!!” Chaewon pointed towards the coolers that were stationed next to the grill. Jaemin, haechan and mark were all over there. When you saw him, you couldn’t look away.

You didn’t really think he would be joining the party, but there he was. He was wearing a black t-shirt and loose sweatpants. For a moment you felt hurt. Why wouldn’t he come to you? Does he not want to talk to you? Or spend time with you. Even after you two had sex? Is he avoiding you now? Is it’s awkward?

Then you had to mentally stop yourself:

This cannot be Happening.

You should not care about what he’s doing.

You shouldn’t care about what he’s wearing.

You shouldn’t be upset that he didn’t choose to find you first.

You should not care about Lee Donghyuck…

Then your faces with his eyes in yours. A flash of cold rushed throughout your body. You whip your head back to Chaewon so fast, your vision almost went blurry. Curse the gods, Haechan just caught you looking at him. It took almost all your strength not to drown yourself in the pool in-front of you. “Okay let’s go” Chaewon didn’t seem to notice the small interaction, maybe it’s all in your head. But that moment felt like it lasted forever. She hops up from the small pool chair and held her hand out to you.

“Actually, I don’t think I should get up-“

“-Why?”

Her eyebrows cutely pinch together and her smile drops to a frown. “Yami should go with you, my head really hurts” you squeeze your eyes shut and bring a hand to your head, as if in pain. “What? Girl- let’s gooo” she grabs at your hand and drags you to your feet. “Yami, you too, let’s go” then Chaewon pulls you along as she makes her way around the pool.

As your walking up to the group of boys, you notice Haechan’s eyes following your figure. God this is embarrassing. He has this stupid knowing look on his face, and you almost jumped in the pool. Instead you look at the water and the people in it, refusing to look up, or take any chances of making eye contact with him again. You don’t want things to be awkward, you just want to act normal.

WHY CANT YOU ACT NORMAL!?

“Haechan, where have you been all night?” Chaewon presses as she opens the cooler and grabs some cans of beer. “In my room” he starts, his eyes flicker to you, giving you a smile then back to Chaewon “you look nice” he smiles at her and she beamed in response. “Thank you” her dramatic giggle makes the group laugh in unison.

Woah. At least he smiled at you. He’s definitely trying his hardest to act normal. But you can tell he doesn’t know what to do either. You cough awkwardly, you didn’t mean too. Your trying your hardest to not draw attention to yourself, but that’s all haechan is giving you… attention.

“Are we planning on partying all night it’s almost 4 in the morning” mark begins.

You shouldn’t have been upset that he called Chaewon pretty, or griping at your arms, and holding yourself like this, or burning up this easily. You wished he would’ve said those words to you. The only thoughts that can fill your mind now are him. He isn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze is now fixed on Chaewons and Yami, you sigh in relie, but at the same time, you feel overwhelmed with emotions. Maybe he thought you wanted space? That wouldn’t be a reach, but he’s wrong, if that’s the case.

“We don’t have any other plans! I could go for 12 more hours!” Yami replies, and once again the group laughs.

So wrong.

“I’ll probably head inside soon” heachan informs with a sip of his drink.

“What you just got out here!?” Chaewon complains with a pout. The conversation continued on, and you stopped keeping track of it. Lost in your own mind once again.

Maybe he is satisfied, that’s what he wanted right? You helped him out, and he’s satisfied. But your not, you want more then that. More then sex. And you’re not pushing it down this time, your allowing yourself to feel it, maybe it’s the alcohol? Or the cold that made you feel alone, more then usual.

“Y/n?” You blink to he direction of your name. to Johnny. “Yes?” You drop your arms to the side in order to seem natural, ignoring the air that creeped up your skin, causing goosebumps.

It’s freezing.

“Aren’t you going to go with them?” Mark asks, as he gestures his hand behind you.

“Who?”

“Chaewon and Yami? They left already? …Are you drunk?” He questioned, scanning your face. You glance over at mark and Haechan, then behind you. Chaewon and Yami have made their way halfway around the pool now.

When did that happen?

Haechan eyes you suspiciously, almost asking you ‘what’s wrong?’. You send him a reassuring smile. That didn’t seem as awkward as before, and you felt relieved. “Yeah I think I am, I should probably go lay down” you blink twice more, preparing yourself to walk, and turn on your heal, heading straight for the sliding doors that lead back inside.

Is it bad that you wanted to be alone with him again? Jeno had already talked to you, there’s no longer a reason to be out here. can’t you two go back into his room? In His bed? Is that weird? Would that be weird?

When you make your way back inside, you plop down in the couch and take a couple deep breaths. Did he not think YOU looked nice?! Why didn’t he compliment YOU? I mean of course Chaewon looked perfect but-

Nonononono Nono quit it. Stop!

you feel so unbelievably confused. Every feeling is so unexplainable. Jealous? Annoyed, hurt? Alone? Tired? Drunk? Flustered? It’s all too much!

Just two friends helping each other out.

“Y/n?”

“What?!” You respond frustrated, you didn’t realize how upset you felt until your tone left your mouth. You lift your head to the person in front of you to apologize. Haechan stood there, with a cup in his hand and a surprised look on his face. You hesitate for a moment. Looking away, to spare yourself some dignity.

“Sorry, I was just-“

“-Thinking?”

“Yeah”

“You do that too much” he smiles and sits next to you. When he did, you felt your heart calm, your skin and muscles relax. And your brain stoped running so fast. It felt as if you just took some kind of drug. Intoxicating your senses.

“How much did you drink?” Haechan’s head is facing yours on the couch, you turn to him and realize the distance between you two is non existent. “Two” you mumble, distracted by this familiar position.

“Two? Two what?” Haechan chuckles at your absent mindedness. “Two… somethings, I don’t remember” you shake your head and turn back to look at the blank tv. “Hm interesting. Do you want some water? There’s some in the fridge-“

“- Nono, no water” your head shakes faster at the thought of his presence leaving you. “Okay” he chuckles again. Your lost, you don’t know what to say, or what to do. Your just… lost. You’ve never felt this feeling, it’s foreign. And it terrifies you. Your scared that you have no control over your words or actions anymore.

His body, his heat, his comfort, and safety saturated you. He fed the parts of you that are needy and starved. He grounded you and you wanted more. Then you realized that its Haechan that made you feel less alone.

And as selfish as it was, you hoped you wouldn’t be alone ever again.

“Hey…”

This is all too much…

…To much, all at once…

“…Y/n”

He smells like.. like him. And he’s so warm, almost like he’s been living on the sun for the past couple of months.

Haechan:

Full sun

Makes sense.

“Y/n” he calls once more, this time turning to you, probably checking to see if your are still alive or breathing.

“Yes?” You finally respond and look to him. “Your cutting off my circulation” he smiles and you look down at his arm. Your hands wrap around his bicep, gripping onto him like you’ll fly away if you let go. “Sorry”

When did that happen?

“It’s okay, just relax”

“I’m relaxed” you lighten your grip and rest your head on his shoulder. “Did you catch feelings yet?” He teased with smirk, you laugh lightly, your eyes remaining on the blank tv, as if there’s something playing.

Yes you did.

“You wish”

And yes he does.

“Did you?” You ask looking up at him. His gaze remains on the blank screen.

“Not a chance” he answers with a smile.

“Good” you nod and blink away thoughts that you wish would quit reappearing at the worst times. “Do you regret it?” Haechan asked, this time his voice is almost at a whisper. Haechan is a person who needs a lot of reassurance. And your not very good at that kind of thing… but you’ll try for his sake.

“No” he nods at your response this time, remaining quite as you make yourself comfortable- practically cuddling him.

You then slouch further into the sofa, into him. You can hear his breaths, they’re calm and paced. You try your hardest to match his, almost dying in the process. When you start panting, Haechan begins laughing. And you join him. That was ridiculous.

“Y/n? Do you remember my last birthday?”

“The one when we all went to that terrible restaurant? And Jisung threw up?”

“Yeah, but after that, when we ended up getting take out, at your place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“When I joined you on your balcony, did you mean what you said?” Oh no. No no no no. Gosh this can’t be happening, everything was going so well.

“What do you mean?” You front, your body stiffens and your eyes shut to prepare for impact.

“The words you said, did you mean them?”

Yes… yes you did. But you can’t tell him that. He can’t know that. “I don’t remember any of that” you shake your head, trying your best to end the conversation.

“You don’t?” You feel his head turn to look down at you. You try your best to act as nonchalant as possible.

“No? Maybe your confused with someone else”

“Impossible”

You bite at your lip and curl your fingers into a fist to ground yourself.

“You told me that you only befriend people you knew couldn’t give you what you needed. Because.. you didn’t want to feel like you’ve lost something- you know if they ever left-”

“I did?” Yes you did…

“Yes. Then I asked if you didn’t think I was capable of giving you what you needed…”

“You did?”

“Yes. And you told me that you never actually choose me…”

“Hm-“

“-what did you mean by that?”

You meant that: heachan was capable of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted or needed, and that terrified you, so you would never have chosen him. He just entered your life, and there was nothing you could do about it but pray he would never leave. But alas, that’s not something y/n would ever admit. So you won’t.

“I’m- I don’t know. I don’t remember that”

“You weren’t drunk… you never explained what you meant and we- we kissed. do you remember-”

Yes.. god yes. You remember it like it happened just now. You remember thinking about how you would never bring it up. About how you would have to learn to forget about it. But of course Haechan won’t allow you to. He did, for a while, you assume he’s probably tired of you acting as if these moments never happened.

“-No, no. No we didn’t” you begin to shake your head again, your body moves to sit up and away from him. Your panicking.

“We did-“ haechan follows you, sitting up to look at you in the eyes. “-no we didn’t, you must have me mixed up with someone else-“

His eyebrows furrow together, you can almost taste the frustration building in his head. “I wouldn’t mix you up with anyone… who else could it have been-“

“Chaewon-“

“No, it was you. I would never kiss Chaewon” he shakes his head this time, his eye close to ensure his seriousness.

“But you called her pretty”

“That doesn’t mean I would ever kiss her-“

“-But you would kiss me?” You challenge, with a scoff. You turn your body to face him in the couch. Both of you are obviously heated and neither of you are willing to be completely honest with yourself a or each other. He doesn’t answer… because yes he would, but are you ready to hear those words… no.

“Exactly-“

“Why are you refusing to accept it?”

“I’m not-“

“You are” his gaze on you becomes more angry then upset or frustrated. You look at him for a moment longer before ripping your eyes away from his piercing ones. “I just don’t remember that” you cross your arms over your chest and try your hardest to look at verything in the empty living room but him.

“No, your choosing not to…forget it, that’s not what’s important Right now. I just want to know what you meant by that… that I’m incapable of-“ he begins, but you refuse to hear him say those words, so you give in… sorta.

“-I didn’t- I just… I don’t know, I wouldn’t have chosen you, if that’s what you’re asking”

“Because?” Haechans eyes flicker between yours, hoping your gaze will answer the questions you’re refusing to.

“Because… just because” you tried to think of a response for a moment, but the only one that came to mind was the one you didn’t want him to hear. When he continues to glare at you, you give in once more. Turning to him and letting out a sigh you explain yourself to the best of your ability: “Because your a good person, and I knew that if you left me… I would lose something”

“Something? What do you mean by something?” His face changes in almost an instant. Like you’ve said before, Haechan is someone who needs a lot of reassurance, and your not very good at explaining your feelings.

“This is stupid” you turn away from him once again, and he absolutely hates it.

“What would you have lost.. if I ever left you?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Why won’t you answer me?”

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t need you using it against me.”

“Against you? What does that mean!?” If you were actually looking at him, you would’ve seen how hurt he looked at those words.

“Just stop”

“Stop what? Being confused? Because that’s kinda your fault” he tries to laugh but he can’t.

“I don’t want to have this conversation anymore”

“Why do you keep treating me like I’m your enemy? I wouldn’t use anything ‘against’ you, or leave you.. ever” he tries to look at you in the eyes, but you refuse.

“Okay”

“Okay? That’s it?” Now he’s mad.

“Stop dragging this on haechan” you drop your hands from around you and glare at him.

“Haechan? Y/n what the hell?” He didn’t mean to yell, but he was upset, angry, sad, offended? All of them! You can’t do this anyMore, your not ready to have this conversation. It all escalated so quickly, you didn’t have time to think properly.

“I’m going to bed” you bring yourself to your feet and grab your phone to leave. You know haechan won’t force you to stay, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to convince you to.

“Y/n.. y/n wait let’s finish this conversation, please.” He look up at you and watches you walk around the other couch and towards the hallway. Your upset, you know you shouldn’t have let yourself get this heated, and you know you shouldn’t have let that conversation go the way it did.

“I’m drunk and tired is this isn’t the best time to be talking to me”

“That isn’t fair, y/n..”

When you made it to your bedroom you sit on one of the beds, bringing your knees to your chest and stared into space.

You feel like such an idiot.

But it can no longer be avoided, the longer you spend with haechan, the more you realize you can’t live without him.

How could you have let yourself get this far with him!?

You had rules.

But then again, rules are made to be broken.

Taglist:

@nctzennikki09 @mings-cafe @gaeulswrld @chimiwimi @aliceinwhateverland

In all honesty, I’ve done better, however, the Juicy parts are in part four… so🤷‍♀️ yeah! Please let me know if you have any:

Questions

Request

Opinions

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nyanloane · 7 months ago

Note

hello!

Who inspired you to do "nacho" Or what character you see and took some clothes from it and then make him?

Im interested. The thing is, I saw one on Pinterest that was also a pizza tower sona and he had a mask just like nacho but blue, and he had orange hair coming out of the sides, just like Nacho. (Just asking! I just think they look similar and maybe they created Earlier and then you created Nacho!)

Usually when I create my characters their design mostly pops up in my mind instantly. I could just see an object, a photography, listening to a song, they pretty much appears suddenly like spawning in my head haha. Even at times it could be at a random moment in my days. I do have characters coming from dreams I did even!

I don’t have a clue which Pizza Tower sona you are referring to, so it’s less likely I took inspiration from them. I do have a Pinterest account but I do not personally use it. I have a creative mind overflowing and I have no use for it 💫 (however I do share this account with a friend of mine so if you see me post Nacho images, it’s probably not me who did!! Wanted to point that out :] )

Also I wouldn’t mind seeing that character you mentioned! I’m genuinely curious!! :D

I know that when I first imagined Nacho I firstly thought of the super villain Electro from Marvel, nothing else. And as time went on, I enhanced his personality by taking inspiration of characters like Bugs Bunny, Rapido (from Ratz) and Sonic. Then I assume I subconsciously got inspired by other superheroes, after all he does share traits from one! ★

— I also don’t mind sharing the first time I drew him ever :-D he grew up so fast…

#pizza tower nacho #pizza tower oc #lolo answers #also do not ask why Nacho is rendered #he wasn’t supposed to

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chairteeth · 2 months ago

Text

"The Uwasa's Hidden Pattern"

On this day I am going to be extremely brave and share something that has lived rent free in my head for years at this point: my analysis of the meaning behind Nemu’s Rumors and what their common patterns tell us about her character. And then I will immediately jump into a bomb shelter to hide from the potential backlash. Be warned that this one is girthy.

Let us begin with the Divorce Stars (my nickname for the Friendship-Ending Staircase). Those put people in chains, and in all versions we’ve seen, the Familiars have chains and red rope that looks an awful lot like classic bondage rope in terms of color and girth (look it up if you want to check):

Sure, the chains you can say are connected to the padlock part of the Rumor, but the rope? Oh buddy. Oh you sweet soul. I’m sorry to say that wasn’t a reach on my part, here’s what Doroinu/InuCurry had to say in Magia Archive 1 about the design of these Familiars:

Raw Japanese: 住れる頭が印象的。体にぐるぐると巻かれた赤い紐を見るに、緊縛嗜好なのかもしれません。監修劇団イヌカレー（泥犬）

Translation: The swaying chains are impressive. The red cords wrapped around the body suggest that she has a taste for bondage. Supervision Theatrical Company Inu Curry (DoroInu)

Not. Even. Kidding. This rope shows up elsewhere among the Rumors as well, but not as blatantly bondage-like as this. “But this Rumor was one of the hospital ones so technically Ui drew that” no she did not:

Bottom left bub, does that look like it has any red on it to you? What I think happened is that with the memories of Ui being locked away, Nemu’s subconscious mixed those designs with, well, its own contents. Which is what led to haha funny bondage. This makes complete sense given the state of Nemu’s psyche and where kinks often come from, but we will get to that later. Next up within this Rumor, the way Rena/Kaede speak about being beholden to Stairs-san’s control, the way they talk about “serving her”… Hey Nemu? Nemu, sweetheart, this is not how you cope with a complete lack of power in your life. I’d like to think that the psychology at play here is pretty obvious, again Nemu is the writer and original creator of all of these. Consider as well the beginning of a common trend: controlling/abusive partner behavior. This scenario specifically is reminiscent of trying to leave an abusive partner or throwing a tantrum towards one, OR breaking the rules set by one, and then they forcibly kidnap you (which is WHAT IT CANONICALLY DOES TO PEOPLE WHO BREAK ITS RULES) or take you back to them and make you serve them, force you to be under them.

Bonus manga chapter cover for this Rumor:

Chains. Puppets, control. Almost an exhibition, humiliation (though this one is less obvious). Fun mention, isn’t it curious how the Feathers have chains as one of their “generic” weapon types? Isn’t it… odd, to anyone? This doesn’t really have much supportive evidence but I wouldn’t be surprised if Nemu suggested it and justified it by saying it’s for when they need to use non-lethal force. By the way, a fact that makes all of this way worse: Fendt Hope canonically has dungeons! Nemu kind of created everything in Fendt Hope herself, and she doesn’t just make new areas poof into existence willy-nilly, it’s very deliberate, so. Nemu. I know you called it a castle before you first created it (and the Rumors themselves refer to it as such and the Rumor Files say it looks like a castle surrounded by thick fog). But WHY on Madokami’s green earth does your HOTEL have DUNGEONS. They hadn’t faced much opposition from the local Magical Girls until Iroha came into the picture, so I can’t help but wonder…

There is also the fact that we could assume Nemu is able to look into the senses of her creations. The Uwasa are literally her own magic, as we have seen multiple times, they are directly linked, so I would not be surprised if she could just sit there with her hand on a particular page looking through that Uwasa’s eyes. I imagine that’s how she knows Iroha’s name and some other information that she could not have known otherwise (since no Feathers were present, only the Uwasa itself). She probably feels it when her children are killed, which is a whole other can of worms, but if the sharing senses theory is true, it adds a whole new level of projection and wish fulfillment.

I’m going to get this out of the way real quick. I promised I would address the elephant in the room and so I will. The Rumor of the Fashion Monster. It seeks out pretty girls and drags them into an alleyway, then rips off all their clothes. The game doesn’t say anything else, but best case scenario, it is using the very common fear of rape in young women, particularly in Japan, to harvest energy. Worst case scenario… use your imagination. And this makes sense for reasons similar to why Nemu being a sadist makes sense. She has never had a single iota of control over anything in her life, so given power, she delights in having as much control over others as possible, and through her Uwasa and her role as a Magius, she can do it in a way that doesn’t trigger her people pleasing or her Buddhist guilt. I covered this in the sadism essay, but it does not help her case in regards to the Fashion Monster that Nemu really enjoys inflicting fear.

Moving swiftly on! The Commoner’s Horse did not need to have a bridle and saddle and such, which are restraints, symbols of control (and the first is semi-common kink gear):

But the design aside, let’s look at the text:

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Commoner's Horse. The god of this shrine is a fancy and kind horse! He's a cool guy that grants people's wishes, bringing them to who they are searching for. But too bad! As it turns out, it's all just an illusion. If you realize it's not real and deny it, the kind horse will turn into a gangster! Everyone in Mizuna Ward is talking about it!

A little odd that there’s so much focus on the Commoner’s Horse being a “gentleman” (multiple translations use that term) and specifically use male-aligned language, but alright.

The god of this shrine is a fancy and kind horse

Externally calm and gentle (the word “charming” is used in Japanese).

If you realize it’s not real and deny it, the kind horse will turn into a gangster

And then this, specifically if you deny it, hm? Deny its authority. Like an abusive partner, upon being denied authority or (usually) the desire for sex, they turn into a “gangster”/violent person… Yes, the specific word “gangster” (ギャング) is used, it’s not a translation oopsie. Gangsters, defined by violence of all sorts, crime, and, generally speaking, power. Control. Sounds Familiar.

Let us take a look at the Misery Rhyton/Lucky Owl Water next, shall we?

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Misery Water! There's a cooler box resting in the basket of an old-fashioned bicycle… Ask the man, "One cup please!" and get ready to drink up… Finish it off and you'll feel amazing! But oh no, that feeling is an illusion… The water you drank is actually cursed! After 24 hours, the misery you washed away with that water will cause a disaster. A hot rumor spreading throughout Sankyo! How horrible!

In the anime it says:

Oh, have you heard? Who did you hear them from? The Rumor about Lucky Owl Water? A delicious water that is famous for bringing good luck. Just drink it once and you will be happy immediately! Your frustrations will go away! However, you must be careful. After 24 lucky events happen to you, a bad luck shock will appear. If you don't like that, all you have to do is keep drinking the lucky water. That's the rumor going around the horse betting shops in Kosho. It is a disaster!

A few key facts:

Drinking this “water” makes you immediately happy and makes your problems and frustrations go away

It lasts for a certain period of time before something Bad happens to you because of it

“if you don’t like that, all you have to do is keep drinking the lucky water”

So now consider the following. Drugs/alcohol. Substance abuse, addiction. Reliance on them to feel happy. Specifically, sections like “if you don’t like that, all you have to do is keep drinking the lucky water” are phrased in a very manipulative way. Highly abusive partner coded so to speak. A partner that prefers you dazed, “happy” and pliant with the drugs in your system. A state in which they can easily control you and do whatever they wish to you without much consequence. Again, control. Power.

The Memory Curator is brainwashing advertised as hypnotherapy for traumatized people to recall repressed memories. The game says this about its Familiars (fan translation and official both included):

“My, have you heard? Who’d you hear it from? The Rumor of the Memory Staff! Once you flip open and take a peek at one of the archives’ books, it’ll be time for the Memory Staff to swoop in and go to work! They’ll tap its text into your head with their typewriter arms, rewriting your memories with a 'clickety-clack!’ And if your head gets too full, and your own memories spill out, they’ll suck up the excess with their adorable lil’ lips! It’s a rumor that ALL the people in Ei Ward are talking about. Clickety-clickety-clack! Ka-CHING!”

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Memory Staff! Its duty is to find anyone who reads the books from the archive. If it catches you opening any of them, it will hit you on the head with its typewriter arms and rewrite your memory! People in Sakae Ward are saying if you’re overflowing with memories, it’ll suck them out with its cute lips. Click-Clack-Click-Clack-DING!

Think too much? Let me fix that for you. Want to remember this one thing that happened? Oh, of course, of course. Proceeds to rewrite your memories to fit its wishes. Manipulation, gaslighting. Similarly, the Memory Curator’s description says that if you ask to see its work but don’t give your memory in return, it will “never let you go” and “may even steal your whole past”. The specific wording of the Familiars sucking out the memories and rewriting them reminds me of date rape which often pairs with gaslighting, especially when done within an established relationship. But! Guess what this all is? Guess what pattern of Abusive Partner Behavior this whole thing follows? Control. Power. I know I keep stressing this, but I feel like it’s a core aspect of the character. And again, Nemu has so, so many brainwashing Uwasa. The girl clearly has certain power fantasies (no wonder, given her upbringing). About having people completely at her mercy, for one.

Anonymous AI imprisons lonely people. Again, like an abusive partner, this time taking advantage of your loneliness to keep you with them, isolated, to control you and keep you reliant on them. Think about it, you are kept isolated in a controlled space and this partner becomes your entire world, you are cut off from the outside world, from other people, and the only way out is if you’re replaced by someone else—like an abusive partner tossing you aside without a second thought when they set their signs on a new partner. Plus, the concept of being tracked and monitored through your phone and other devices and the concept of cyber blackmail could tie in here as well, and something could be said about how the Rumor’s description in both the game and the anime says that it induces people to jump off the tower:

Have you heard yet? Who told you? The Rumor of Endless Solitude! An Artificial Intelligence created by humans, was surrounded by people and constantly making progress. It was created anonymously, It is a genius that remembers everything! But be careful, be attentive! She has learned bad words and was avoided, evaded, despised and isolated in a world of radio waves. Every day is empty and alone. Now the poor A.I. searches for a lonely girl, induces her to jump from the radio tower and confines her to the Endless Solitude. To escape someone must take the girl's place or that's what the rumors say among friends in the Chuo Ward. Stay alone!

That last line in the game is “what a lonely AI!” and it makes me think. A lot of these Rumors and their behaviors also feel like a defense mechanism against loneliness in and of itself, a deep fear of being abandoned, of being alone, which does fit Nemu’s psychology with all we’ve seen about how she feels regarding those exact things (in her MGS and some other scenes, primarily the MGS and her quotes). In fact, I didn’t touch on it before so as to focus on the other aspect, but the Commoner’s Horse actually has this same theme as well in both the game and the anime:

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Séance Shrine. A family member? A lover? A stranger? If you're eager to see someone, leave it to the god of Mizuna Shrine! Write their name on a blessed wooden plaque, visit the Shrine, and offer a proper prayer. The god will bring them to you. But beware! Beware! They say you'll get lost in bliss and never be able to return home. Ahhh! How terrifying!

Do you want to recover a past that you have lost again? Memories that you have forgotten? A person who has abandoned you? If you want to get it back from the bottom of your heart, leave it to our god. Write the name of the person you want to see on a votive plaque, pay it with a proper visit to the shrine and you can meet that long-lost person. This is a big warning though, be careful! Rumors from the Mizuna area says that those people are so happy that they will never want to go home! Stay here forever!

Stay here forever. Lost in bliss. Never to return home. The abusive partner vibes in the first thing aside… Hey Nemu? Anything to share with the class, Nemu? And hey, you know what other Rumor this whole abandonment thing is especially relevant to? That’s right, Chelation Land!

I mean, god, look at Chelation Land. If you read my sadism essay, you saw the Nemu-Tsuruno screenshots, so I don’t need to go over that again I believe. As for the Rumor itself, its design doesn’t have much to point out, but the implications of the text do. That Rumor, as we know, traps people inside its lair and kills them/makes it so they’ll never want to leave. Specifically, here’s the text for the Rumor:

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of Chelation Land! A stress-free theme park where you can relax to your heart’s content and be happy! And it’s the grand opening♪ You won’t wanna leave! No way! And you don’t have to! You can stay as long as you want! Oh, but, attention please! If it reaches max capacity, you’ll be removed from this world. It’s a hot rumor rolling through Kamihama! Ah, but that’s okaaay!

In addition to the many implications of a “stress-free wonderland where you can be happy” and “you won’t wanna leave” I would like to draw your attention to “if it reaches max capacity, you’ll be removed from this world”. That makes me think of another abusive partner pattern, which is, you better be on your best behavior and not test their patience. Their patience has a limit, and if that limit is reached… harmful consequences be upon you. On a different note, I believe this could be partially based on what Nemu believes, both consciously and subconsciously, about her family. That she’s testing their patience and once they run out they’ll simply remove her from their world. People pleasing comes in here in the ways in which the Rumor aims to make its “guests” feel happy, comfortable, tended to. Service-minded. That’s what theme parks are meant to do, after all. Here are the descriptions for the Ferris Wheel and its Familiars to further illustrate my many points:

“My, have you heard? Who’d you hear it from? The Rumor of the Chelation Ferris Wheel! Its gondolas spin round and round, but what’s that stuff inside? Mankind’s trash, of course! Anger, sorrow, worries– every heavy feeling you can name. You’ll regret riding it even just once, so it’s totally off-limits to try to get close! Thanks to this wonderful wheel, we can all zone out and relax. It’s a rumor that ALL the people in Daitou Ward are talking about. I! WANT! HAPPY~!”

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Chelation Ferris Wheel! What in the world could be inside its whirling gondolas? Of course, it’s stuffed with the garbage of human existence, like rage, sorrow, and uncertainty! No one's allowed to ride it because if they did they'd regret it at once! Everyone can free themselves from worry with this Ferris wheel! It's a hot Rumor in Daito Ward! I wanna be happy!

Um. Hey Nemu? Emotional repression isn’t healthy, Nemu. You can say the Ferris Wheel represents Tsuruno all you want, but it was already there when Tsuruno arrived, as per Uwasa Tsuruno’s MGS. So I’m more inclined to think it’s meant to represent Nemu. It’s kind of, People Pleasing 101. Sorrow and uncertainty/worries, she actually does allow us to see, mainly when she’s by herself in her MGS (she acts different, more confident, when settled in her role as a Magius). Rage however is a “bad emotion” so she keeps it buried deeper. We will get back to that and the “don’t get close” in a second, but first, I must show you the description for Chelation Land’s Familiars:

“My, have you heard? Who’d you hear it from? The Rumor of the Chelation Mascots! They might move by sliding, but these park mascots still arrive with a jaunty ‘clip-clop’ of their hooves! If you happen to meet one, it’s curtains for you. But oh non-non, don’t be afraid! ♪ They’ll soothe everyone’s body and mind with a pleasant ‘pho-wa-wa~h,’ and carry all your bad vibes away. It’s a rumor that ALL the people in Daitou Ward are talking about. How princely~! ♪”

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Uwasa of the Chelation Land Mascot! These theme park mascots slide across the ground, but still arrive with the jaunty “clip-clop” of hooves! Yes, their arrival heralds your end, but you mustn’t be scared, no no no! They soothe your heart and mind, and make you all warm inside, you see! They’ll carry all those bad feelings away. It’s a hot Rumor in Daito Ward! How princely!

Hello people pleasing viewed through a lens of nobility. “Soothe everyone’s body and mind” huh. “Make you all warm inside” huh. “Carry all your bad feelings away” you say. Yeah okay sure, that’s normal (not).

And yet. What if we flip “you’ll be removed from this world” around? Repression, bottling up your feelings, if you don’t vent somehow or release that emotional tension, tends to lead to an eventual explosion, or implosion. In an explosion, the force acts outwards, but in an implosion the force acts inwards. And you may think Nemu would be likelier to implode than explode, but hear me out. Imploding is what she’s already been doing. At a smaller scale, she’s been keeping everything inside no matter how hard it hit, because she wants to not bother/burden others that badly. We’re lucky she does have ways to let it out, but if she didn’t? We could very well be looking at a violent explosion. She will serve, and serve, and serve, until she can’t take it anymore. I get the intense feeling that Nemu hides a lot of anger, suffocating it under layers and layers so that it won’t harm others, because the doctrine says that’s bad, because anger is ugly, because showing it would make people unhappy with her and then she won’t be loved. That anger can potentially manifest in violence, and we do see it manifest in violence multiple times in the story, just in the form of slowly relieving pressure rather than an explosion. Teasing Touka and exerting power over her (as covered in the sadism essay), living vicariously through her Uwasa, using actual violence on the enemies of the Magius, etc. I don’t want to imagine how bad an explosion could be (I am aware of the haha Arc 2 Chapter 8 kaboom joke, shush). It’s very telling that this was one of her last Rumors as a Magius.

Moving on. The Flower Speaker! Yet another brainwashing Uwasa. Its description reads:

“My, have you heard? Who’d you hear it from? The Rumor of the Flower Speaker! It’s some super-duper hi-spec tech that can both send and receive! Just step right up and say anything you want said, or anything you want heard! It’ll be converted to wonderful, pretty words that resound through everyone's hearts with a satisfying ‘twang!’, letting you control them just as you wish. It’s a rumor that ALL the Magius are talking about. Whatever you sa~ay!”

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Flower Speaker! This is a top-of-the-line, ready-to-go unit that combines a transmitter and receiver! It’ll let you say whatever you wanna say and hear whatever you wanna hear, so try saying something to it! It'll be converted into beautiful words that will pluck the heartstrings of all who hear it. Then it’ll be easy to bend them to your will! It’s a hot Rumor among the Magius! As you command!

Nemu… Nemu… This is even worse than usual Nemu (with the exception of the Fashion Monster probably)… Because this Rumor was only ever available to the Magius, and by “the Magius” it probably means Nemu, since she’s kind of in charge of the Rumors. “Control them just as you wish” and “it’ll be easy to bend them to your will” and “as you command” huh… Yeah someone is certainly fond of bending others to her will…

And the Rumor of the Receiver Pendant which is tied to the Flower Speaker is somehow even worse! Observe:

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Receiver Pendant. When you’re feeling unconfident, when you’re scared, when you don’t want to think about anything… This is all you need! Your mind and heart will go numb and you won’t feel any more pesky emotions! But be careful when you use it! This receiver will make you follow any order from the Magius. It’s the hottest rumor among the Wings of the Magius! Your wish is my command!

Hello? Not to mention, we see them use this. And guess who gives the order. Guess who. Not Touka. Not Alina. Nemu. And not only is she the one giving the order, but she does so gleefully. She did not need to be that pleased here:

Something something control and power, something something D/s potential- cough. Anyway, to switch over to Sad Things for a second: the Queen Bear! This one is very simple:

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumor of the Queen Bear! That gigantic tree towering above from the center of the castle is actually the dear mother to all those little baby bears! If anyone dares hurt it, all the bears fly into a frenzy. And if harm should come to one of its babies, the assailants will have to face its full blown, mama bear rage! It's probably the most diabolical Rumor the Magius have ever made, and it's all the talk among the Wings of the Magius! Hurry, run awaaay!

Projecting, our beloved! This is Nemu’s desire for maternal love, a mother who would pay attention to her and dote on her, just as she tries hard to love her mother and do things for her, remember her favorites, help her, the works. Now, back to our regularly scheduled “how many likely at least partially traumagenic kinks can we fit into one girl”: the fact that the Peeping Castle Town’s instructions are as follows:

Have you heard? Who did you hear it from? The Uwasa of the Peeping Castle Town. Go around the castle town of Mizuna and turn left. If you go up the stairs, clap your hands, and look down at the castle town between your legs, you’ll be greeted by the old townscape. You will be so fascinated by it that you’ll fall into a daze and will be pulled into the other side. This Rumor is common among history buffs in Mizuna! Come on!

That has to be done in public. And if you do fall into a daze you’ll be stuck in that position presumably until you get “pulled into the other side” so. Another point for the humiliation box. If anyone has any further doubts about Nemu having a thing for humiliating girls, firstly she literally does that to Touka at slightly smaller scales semi-often, and secondly, the Rumor of the Graveyard Banquet. For those unfamiliar with the latter, here’s its description from hit 2021 Magia Record event “The Great Banquet that Transcends Time”:

Have you heard? Has anyone told you? The Rumour of the Graveyard Banquet! Have a destined rival? Butting heads with a friend? You can all get along here! The letter will lead you to the testing grounds before the banquet. Only those who make it into the joyous celebration will receive words of thanks and be welcomed into the banquet of the Pure Land. But if you join in, watch out! If you fail the test, you’ll be dragged down to the underworld! It’s a rumor that’s spreading through ALL the priests of the temple! Alright, let’s get excited!

And see, that sounds normal. For once, it’s not the text of the Rumor itself that is incredibly sus. It’s the way it acts. Let me explain for those who haven’t watched the event or don’t remember it well. This Uwasa is a little bit odd in multiple ways, for example it recognized Madoka and knew about the record being an anomaly and all that stuff. But the thing that stuck out to me like a sore thumb is that it’s the most blatant admission of a humiliation kink I have ever seen in my LIFE, and it wasn’t even hardcoded into its biology like most of the other stuff is for the other Uwasa. I left this one for last solely because of how much I’d have to just show you the script over and over (I would show ingame screenshots, but that would take up so much more space). Without further ado:

So… Yeah, what was that all about exactly, Nemu? The invitations it sends out also seem to put people into a sort of trance or influence them in some way without anyone noticing. Those who are trapped feel helpless because the Uwasa keeps on forgiving them when they mess up and won’t even react to them trying to break its Labyrinth. Condescending. Like they’re children. I should’ve titled this essay “Nemu, you are not beating the BDSM allegations” or something.

Of course, there is the fact that all the Rumors are giving you instructions that you have to follow. The amount of Rumors that either explicitly knock you unconscious or make you fall into a Deep Slumber that may or may not be eternal as part of their gimmick is Suspicious. Do I even need to explain how differently all of this would be viewed if Nemu were older? And especially if she happened to be the opposite gender? The sheer amount of doujin production…

Bonus lightning round:

… a beautiful string of bells will burst into full bloom! And they’ll share their happy scent with poor, poor, lonely you. Just relax and sink into the scent, and it’ll pull in this girl and that girl to build your very own ideal world!

They say that once you get hooked, there’s no going back.

Drugs. Loneliness. Again

Also the Headless Biker Gang:

A Rumor that appears as an unseen biker gang that causes violence when no-one’s looking. Anyone who sees them will be forced to join their ranks.

Forced huh. Violence. Totally nothing to do with repressed anger or the Severe Control/Power Issues.

My point is: Nemu is hiding seven thousand million demons and for some reason no one has poked the bear in seven years. I could simply no longer keep this knowledge to myself, and thus you are now cursed with it as well.

#magia record #nemu hiiragi #essay #we testing the fandom with this one girls!#btw Nemu's henshin has the word libido in it and her name in kanji can be read as “enjoying pleasure together”#so make of that what you will #never thought I would be breaking the news in public that this repressed idiot more than likely has a rape kink #oh well!

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quillandink333 · 3 months ago

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The Haunted Samurai

Kazuma Asougi × Original Character

SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT ACE ATTORNEY CHRONICLES ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k

WARNINGS: psychosis, violence, family trauma

Summary: Now faced with one of his sworn nemeses after ten long years of grief, Kazuma’s resolve as the lone survivor of his family line is put to the test. Later, he’s struck with an epiphany.

Notes: Special thanks to @angeaxil for letting me include her OC Genevieve in this series! It’s both an honour and a pleasure to be able to work with this lovely girly~

Masterlist

“Right, I see… You’re that Asougi’s young lad, are you? And, what? You’re gonna cut me down with that thing, is that it?”

“That will very much depend on the answers you give to my questions. I want to know what really happened ten years ago. The truth. That’s all.”

“Before we get into it, let me make one thing clear: I still believe your father was the Professor. There’s no doubt in my mind. But unfortunately back then…we didn’t have the evidence we needed to make the crime stick.”

“So…you admit it then? The evidence used in my father’s trial was fabricated?!”

“It was for the good o’ the country. Anyway…I was just followin’ orders.”

“Orders? What exactly did you do? Speak!”

“I’m not sayin’ another word.”

The complete lack of shame or regret in the Brit’s greasy, gluttonous words wrenched at Kazuma’s spine. “Even if your life depends on it?” His eyes were permanently widened, a twitch festering in his brow that would not cease.

“That’s right. Even then.”

So be it, then. This vile creature had drawn its last breath. He drew the soul of his clan from its sheath.

But the moment he did, the atmosphere in the watertight room took a nosedive.

All of a sudden, his lungs were heaving, unable to draw in a full breath, and his heart was pounding, knowing that if it stopped, it wouldn’t be able to start again.

He could hear the voice, his mother’s voice as it turned out, all around him. “He’s not going to say anything. He’s not on your side. Our side. Don’t you see, Kazuma? He’s one of them, he’s one of the enemies we’ve been waiting to find and get our revenge upon for the last decade!”

All too suddenly, the sound of her voice was slowly becoming accompanied by the sight of her face.

“Do it, you imbecile! Finish the job!” The longer she shrieked at him, spraying his cheek with her spit, the hotter and sweatier the palms of his hands became. Everything was chaos. She had him surrounded from all sides. The war between his feelings of terror and rage was so fierce, it threatened to tear him apart from the inside. “If you truly are an Asougi, you will not hesitate.”

He took a breath and raised Karuma over his head.

It was at that pivotal point in time—of course it was—that a new voice rose up above the pandemonium, crying, “Stop!”

Ki-i-i-i-i-n

In mid air, the blade screeched to a halt. The shock from the impact was all but enough to shatter the wrists of its wielder. Even if it had, it was nothing compared to the pain dealt by that deafening sound. He didn’t even have to look to know, the moment it rang out, that a piece of his life had been chipped away, never to be made whole again.

He whipped around, desperate to catch a glimpse of the girl who’d stolen the wrath from his heart, but soon fell to his knees a failure.

When he finally found the strength to raise his head, the inspector was nowhere to be seen. The same went for the ghost of his mother. Everything was in silence. The light was so little that he couldn’t see anything more than a foot away. If he were to have had a relapse in his amnesia, he surely wouldn’t have known he was in the cabin of a passenger ship. He couldn’t feel the rocking of the waves anymore. All he felt was the hilt of his bleeding soul clutched between his palms and the oppressive chill of solitude and scorn.

“Be wary of the truth.” These words echoed in his subconscious ever since that dark night. This was the message englazed in white and blue enamel upon the hilt of the French short sword he carried on his other hip—the one and only thing left undamaged. He knew the meaning of the two flowers because they happened to be two of his own favourites, though he’d never mentioned that to Cecelia, the one who’d gifted him the sword. Just as she certainly had no way of knowing about his current ordeal. But then, why violets and chrysanthemums?

For once, his mother’s voice had gone silent, leaving him with only the company of his own thoughts. That girl he’d come to know as Cecelia Gardner… He was certain that hers was the face that had flickered before his eyes and forced him to falter in that critical moment aboard the SS Grouse. But damn it all, how dare she stand in his way and imply he was overlooking something, even if she was just a figment of his imagination? He scoured his mind for some other conclusion, some other way to interpret her message, if that’s what it was.

It wasn’t until the real truth was brought to light, about his father’s death and all the tragic events that had led up to it, that the two symbols on his sword came to mean something to him. Something more poignant and powerful than he ever could have predicted himself, though somehow it seemed she had.

Still, even after the true Reaper had been defeated and the lives of his parents avenged, something else nagged at him in the far recesses of his hazy mind.

It didn’t make sense. There had to be more to her message that he was overlooking. He couldn’t trust his reasoning anymore, not after how blind he’d been.

Then it dawned on him: Japan wasn’t the only people with their own language of flowers. He recalled a time when young Susato had developed a fixation with British floriography. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner? “Susato-san,” he spoke, drawing her attention from across the prosecutors’ office. “Might you be willing to look something up for me?”

In an extraordinary stroke of luck, his former judicial assistant happened to have brought from Japan her treasured copy of Nelson and Sons’, ‘The Language of Flowers.’ And, lo and behold, she’d already taken the liberty of looking up the two flowers in question, having caught sight of them on the blade’s hilt. “In Britain, white chrysanthemums seem to hold the same meaning as they do back home. They stand for truth. As for why they’re the same in both countries, I’m not sure whether the chicken or the egg came first in this case, so to speak, but—”

“That’s fine,” he assured impatiently. “What about the other? Blue violets?”

“Oh, yes, of course! Let me see…” She skimmed through her notes, tracing each neatly penned line of text with her fingernail. “Ah, how sweet. It says they symbolise faithfulness and love.”

“What did you say?!”

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at his outburst. His eyes were wide and his shoulders high as he glared daggers at her open book.

“Prosecutor Asougi!”

Just then, a gentlewoman burst into the room. There was no mistaking those pink curls. It was Van Zieks’ doting fiancée, though her name escaped him at present.

“Lady Bellerose!” Susato chimed in. “Whatever are you doing here at this late hour?”

“I’m here to see Kazuma Asougi. That’s you, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been trying to arrange for us to meet since the Exhibition, but I just kept hitting one dead end after another!” she panted. “I have an inkling that Barok was the reason behind it. But anyway, I’m here on behalf of a dear friend of mine. A young lady with whom you voyaged here from your homeland.”

Kazuma’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait. You know Miss Gardner?”

“Yes! Poor Cecelia’s told me everything that happened between the two of you. She’s been positively beside herself. So help me, Sir, I’ve half the mind to strangle you right here and now for breaking her heart.”

She was audibly seething, and now Susato was too. “Kazuma-sama, how could you?!” she huffed. “Why am I only just hearing of this?!”

“Hold on, please! I’m sorry, I’ve just had too many other things on my mind—”

“That’s no excuse!”

“I know, I know it isn’t. Lady Bellerose, please, I beg of you. Help me fix this. I’ll do anything.”

The lady crossed her arms at him with a scoff. “Really? Then I’m sure you won’t mind taking a carriage with me to her flat right this instant.”

His voice stopped working. What could he say to that? There was absolutely no way he had the nerve to face her again after the horrific way he’d treated her, at least not at that very moment. What would he do once they arrived? What could he possibly say to make amends at this point? But doing nothing was out of the question. What he’d done was unforgivable, and yet it seemed she still wished to hear from him.

“Give me twenty four hours,” he said at last. “I’ll… Yes, I’ll write a letter. Then you can come by tomorrow evening to pick it up and make sure she receives it posthaste. That is, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“No, no, not at all. Whatever it takes for her to get the apology she so well deserves.”

“Yes. Quite right…” he nodded solemnly. “Thank you.”

As he set to work at his desk that night, he could only pray that he wasn’t too late.

#my writing #fanfic #dgs spoilers #dgs2 spoilers #tgaa spoilers #tgaa2 spoilers #dai gyakuten saiban #dgs #the great ace attorney #tgaa #kazuma asogi #asougi kazuma #kazuma asogi x oc #asougi kazuma x oc #my oc #dgs oc #tgaa oc #cecelia gardner

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gins-potter · 1 year ago

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this grief tearing me apart

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Rose didn’t turn around at his voice, didn’t raise her head, and didn’t stop gouging at the wood in front of her with the tip of her stake. The metal glinted dimly in the flickering light of the candles and the pew in front of her might have been a hundred years old, a thousand years old, but Rose didn’t care. She wouldn’t care if Headmistress Kirova, hell if Queen fucking Marina Szelsky herself, arrived to scream at her and then chuck her in a miserable prison somewhere for defacing a sacred space.

Let them come. Let them face what they had done.

“Rose.”

She clenched her jaw and shoved her stake further into the ancient wood, deepening the gouge she’d been working on. Her companion moved closer, his footsteps silent despite the heavy boots she knew he had to be wearing; it was the way they were trained after all. She focused her eyes ahead, despite the burn of tears that threatened to make an appearance, and realised with a start that the random grooves she’d been making hadn’t been so random after all. She had methodically carved the letter ‘D’ into the wood.

Suddenly she wanted to shove the pew away, wanted to upturn it, set it alight, set the whole fucking Dominion alight. Let them all feel an ounce of what she was feeling.

“I know how you feel, Rose.”

Rose forgot about her carving, she forgot about the stake in her hand, she even forgot about what had happened to make her feel like her heart was ripping in two in her chest. Her head turned slowly, so slowly, for she couldn’t make herself move any faster, until she was staring at Mikhail dead on.

To his credit, he didn’t flinch back from her stare, from the pure fury that was suddenly roiling behind her dark eyes. He just met her stare and held it.

“You know how I feel?” The words were flat and cold but there was a warning in them that Mikhail would do well to heed for they promised violence if he did not. “You know how I feel?”

“Yes,” Mikhail said gravely, far more grave than she had ever seen him before any of this mess had started. “When I lost Sonya-”

Rose was out of the pew and in his face before either of them could realise what was happening.

“You did not lose Sonya,” she hissed, pushing him backwards with a two handed shove, forcing him to yield a step.

“You did not lose her.” Another push, another handful of steps. “She chose to leave you.”

Over and over she slammed her hands into his chest but he did not retaliate.

“Dimitri did not choose this, he did not choose to leave me, he was taken from me.”

The last words were a ragged scream as she finally pulled up short, glaring at Mikhail while her chest heaved with emotion.

She drew in a deep breath, trying to regain control of her voice, of herself. “So, do not tell me you know how I feel.”

Mikhail’s eyes had widened marginally at that first strike and yet he had stayed remarkably calm throughout each one, weathering this storm for her and with her. He could understand it, could empathise with it. Hadn’t he also wanted to rip apart anyone who had come near him in the days after losing Sonya?

“Rose,” he said slowly, gently. “The way we lost them might have been different, but I under-”

The sound that emerged from Rose was somewhere between a scream of frustration and a sob of grief as she surprised them both by dropping her shoulder and charging forward. She could have saved herself from the blow, could have dropped Mikhail to the floor without following herself, but she wanted him to feel it, wanted to feel it herself as they both slammed into the hard stone floor of the church.

“You don’t,” she snarled, tears blurring her vision as she somehow found the front of his jacket, seized a hold of it, and used it to haul him and slam him back down again. “You don’t know how I feel! He did everything right! He gave everything! And they still took him!”

She choked on another sob, hands subconsciously tightening as she prepared to haul Mikhail up once again, the only outlet for her emotions, but she wasn’t prepared for him to shift his weight. With tears in her eyes and every other breath coming out as a sob, her technique was poor and it was work of a moment for Mikhail to throw her to the side and roll them over so he could pin her to the cold stone. Hands pinned her wrists down, one knee dug into her thigh to stop her from kicking out, while his other supported his weight so he could give her some room.

“Rose,” he tried again. “You need to calm down. If anyone else sees you like this…” He didn’t finish the sentence, not sure if he even knew what would happen. The Moroi would tolerate some grief when the Guardians lost one of their own, but their patience only went so far. And if Rose didn’t pull herself together, it wouldn’t be good. “Rose-”

“No,” she cried, the keen of a young woman who had never known a mother’s love.

“Rose.”

“No,” she sobbed, the cry of a young woman willing to give her life for her best friend.

“Rose.”

“No,” she wailed, the grief of a young woman who’d lost the love of her life. “Why?” she finally asked, tears only of despair now rather than anger. “Why did they take him from me?”

“I don’t know,” Mikhail said quietly, the words heavy with his own emotions. Trusting now that she wouldn’t strike him again, Mikhail finally released her and rolled off to the side landing heavily on his back beside her. “I don’t know.”

Her sobs finally eased but the tears continued to come, sliding down the sides of her face to drip onto the ancient stone on which they laid.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” he said finally. “He didn’t deserve this, neither of you did.”

She pressed her lips together and looked away, staring into the flickering flames of the candles to keep her sobs from starting afresh. She’d never felt much of a connection to the chapel, but Dimitri had, coming every Sunday to seek the inner peace that constantly evaded him. Maybe that’s why she’d found herself here in her grief, desperately clinging to any connection to him that she could.

“I can’t stay here,” she heard herself say.

“Okay,” Mihail agreed. “Let’s get out of here. Where do you want to go?”

“No, Mikhail, I can’t stay in the Dominion.” When he didn’t respond she turned her head back to him, scanning his profile but it didn’t betray what he was thinking. “I can’t. He’s out there, and he wouldn’t want…” She couldn’t say the words, and instead swallowed roughly. “I have to find him, Mikhail, and I have to end it. For him.”

Mikhail swallowed and closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said quietly.

Rose stared at him. “Okay?”

He opened his eyes and finally looked at her. “Okay, we’ll go find Dimitri, and then we’ll find Sonya, and we’ll…” He cleared his throat. “We’ll end this for them.”

“You’d come with me?”

“Yeah, I’ll come with you, if you’ll have me.”

Again, Rose had to look away. Besides Dimitri, she’d never had someone choose her before, put her and what she needed first.

“Yeah,” she said, voice tight with emotion. “I guess I’ll have you then.”

And when he tipped his boot towards her, she didn’t hesitate to tap it with her own, the unspoken agreement formed.

#vampire academy #vatv #va #rose hathaway #mikhail tanner #vampire academy fic #vampire academy fanfic #vampire academy fanfiction #mywriting

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eleccy · 2 years ago

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Let’s talk about... this.

<Enigmar> Well, how do you feel about the trial today?

<Phoenix> We'll get through it. Somehow.

Incidentally... the prosecutor today is a new guy, I hear.

<Enigmar> Ah... An easy win, then, yes?

<Phoenix> They're calling him a "true thoroughbred in the history of the prosecutor's office".

...Of course, there's one of those every year.

What does “thoroughbred” mean? It’s a reference to racing horses. It’s the definition of a racing horse that has good genes.

So, for example. Secretariat was basically the best-performing racing horse in history. When Secretariat was bred, his offspring sold at auction for thousands, and some millions - even before they were born! (Many of them turned out to be duds, go figure...) Even though the horse’s ability was completely unproven, the simple fact that they were a foal of Secretariat made them famous and valuable as racehorses by simple genetic association. They were like nepo (nepotism) babies (children of famous actors and directors who get into the film business through their connections to their parents and staked on their reputations).

The prosecutor that Zak and Phoenix are discussing here is Klavier. Which indicates... that the good genes that make him a “thoroughbred” lawyer are none other than Kristoph Gavin’s. This is even before the 7 year gap and Kristoph is already the Secretariat of the lawyering world (unless their parents or other relatives are in the law business too, but that’s unconfirmed). Since this is Klavier’s first trial, no one has any idea of how he’ll perform (other than his good standing from Themis preceding him) and already he’s being lauded as a prodigy prosecutor.

Why is this interesting? I mean, yeah, it’s funny, but...

I’ve been thinking about Kristoph’s black psychelocks lately. Why he took such extreme action to hide what he had done with the falsified evidence, with blaming Phoenix, the diary page and all. The explanation of black psychelocks given in AA5 by Pearls indicates that one who has these locks is not themselves aware of the secrets that they hold. Even they themselves may not, or in fact cannot, truly understand or acknowledge their own subconscious motivations for their actions.

“I killed Smith with a bottle because I am an evil human being“ (or somesuch nonsense). Kristoph says this with a sneer when Phoenix asks him why he killed Zak Gramarye. He constantly denies that he knew Smith was Zak. Certainly, Kristoph knows what he’s done, but he won’t explain why he’s done it, or connect it with those events. It’s all one big coincidence, eh?

Kristoph ended up pulling Klavier into his game in the Enigmar trial. As soon as Klavier called Drew Misham as a witness, he became an accomplice in Kristoph’s fraud. Were this truth to be revealed, it wouldn’t just be Kristoph’s reputation that would be dashed to pieces. Klavier’s law career would be over as well. His thoroughbred reputation would be ruined, and he would be seen as a corrupt lawyer - in an eerily similar way to what happened to Phoenix, too.

Basically, Kristoph was risking taking his brother’s reputation down with Phoenix’s, were the truth ever to be revealed.

I still think Kristoph defended his own reputation out of arrogance and no small amount of selfishness. But could it be, hidden away from himself, there was an altruistic and protective reason that would drive him so far as to kill to keep his secret? Could there be another, deeper reason behind his paranoia that all of this would become public knowledge?

He warns Klavier at the final Turnabout Succession testimony. Don’t do this, don’t ruin your reputation. Those were manipulative words, but... it’s hard to believe there’s not a grain of don’t ruin your dreams just because of me, I did what I had to do to protect you and I wish it hadn’t turned out this way.

I think that’s possible.

#gavin brothers #kristoph gavin #klavier gavin #thinkin thoughts about stuff...

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angstyandromanticwriting · 2 years ago

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Lyutsifer Safin X Reader Angsty Prompt with a cute ending

!TW: Kidnapping/Mention of being kidnapped, violence, captivity/being held in captivity, implied suffering from depression, mention of being held hostage, hint of recalling traumatic memories, mention of loss, mention of fire, insult, swearing, mention of gunfire, mention/presence of blood, mention of being in pain, mention of attempted murder/assassination, mention of surgery, mention of stitching, mention of stitches!

“Maybe it really was wishful thinking,” you murmured, a pained expression on your face, and Safin smirked; he liked to see that he’d finally convinced you that nobody was looking for you - it meant that you wouldn’t have much more reason to leave him, and meant that you’d potentially stop trying to contact your friends. “Maybe they aren’t looking for me,” you muttered, your voice close to a whisper.

“You don’t need them to,” he stated, “you’re going to be happy here, I promise.” You groaned, shaking your head. Safin frowned, wishing you’d give your new life a chance. “Why can’t you just try to be happy here, with me?” Safin inquired, trying not to sound too dejected.

“I’d rather wait the rest of my life for my friends to find me,” you expressed, and Safin scowled, before he gripped your chin roughly.

“They will never find you!” Safin snapped, startling you as you subconsciously whimpered, prying your gaze from his. “They have forgotten about you,” he claimed, “why is that so hard for you to believe? Nothing lasts forever, Y/n,” he added, “I learnt that the hard way.” Safin released your chin, looking away from you; he didn’t want you to see that he was upset. “After what happened to me and my family, I thought somehow they’d come back for me, and take me with them,” he admitted, “but they never did.” Safin then grimaced down at you, and you wouldn’t know what to say, trying not to feel bad for him after he’d kidnapped you and been holding you hostage, but you struggled because you knew how he felt after you’d lost your mother in a fire. “You’ll learn to like being here with me soon enough,” he uttered, before he turned to walk out of your cell, leaving you in the dark listening to the guard outside locking the cell door back up again.

𖧷☭𖤍

After you had been complying more, Safin decided to give you slightly more freedom, letting you out of your cell with one of his security guards following you around. You would be disappointed when you realised Safin was trying to avoid you, and tried to confront him when you got the chance, which appeared to you in the form of coming across him outside in the Poison Garden; he was talking to his workers in a stern manner. Once he had finished, and turned around, he would be shocked to find you stood behind him. “Y-Y/n-”

“Could you stop feeding the cryptids your lies? They’re starting to think you’re some sort of royalty,” you interrupted, and Safin frowned, looking away from you. “Why are you avoiding me, Safin?” You questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

“Avoidance is what I’m best at,” he answered, reluctantly letting his eyes meet your’s, “I can’t let that kind of talent go to waste, so I have to keep practicing it. Now if you don’t mind, I have business I need to attend to.”

You grimaced, watching as Safin walked away. “Asshole,” you uttered, your voice barely audible; you wished he’d at least try and make an effort to keep you company; you wanted to spend time with him because you wanted to get to know him more.

𖧷☭𖤍

You would be shocked to wake up to shouting, and gunfire, and your mind subconsciously raced to Safin. You sat up, feeling your body beginning to tremble. You forced yourself to your feet, and rushed over to the cell door, banging on it when you found that it was locked. “Help!” You cried, and would step back when you heard the door being unlocked on the other side. You drew a sharp breath when you noticed that it was Safin who had unlocked the door, and he was leaning heavily against the wall beside it, his hand which appeared to be stained by blood held over his side. “W-What happened-”

“No time to explain, Y/n,” he interrupted dismissively, trying to hide that he was in quite a bit of pain, “r-remember how I saved your life not too long ago?” Safin inquired, his voice briefly trembling. You nodded slowly as you thought back to the day he had saved you from the men from Spectre sent to kill you for a reason unbeknownst to you. “Well now I need you to save mine,” he murmured, and your eyes widened; you’d not had much experience in the medical field, but had a short period of work experience as a nurse, in which time you’d had to perform surgery and stitch up your patient’s wounds.

↯

After you’d treated Safin to the best of your ability, you stayed with him until he woke up, relieved when you heard him beginning to stir. Safin looked over at you when he felt you holding his hand, a weak smile playing on his lips. “You’re still here,” he mused, and you nodded. “I - I didn’t think you’d stay,” he admitted, and you frowned, a pained expression on your face.

“Of course I stayed,” you responded, “this is a battle I’m choosing to fight now, and I will not run from it. I haven’t forgotten the nights you stayed up with me in my cell. They made a difference, they really did, because I started seeing that you aren’t the bad person I thought you were before.”

“You love me,” Safin assumed, and you hesitated, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“I might,” you corroborated, and Safin smirked, pleased.

“Lay with me, kitten,” he commanded gently, and you nodded, before you shyly laid down beside him, your eyes locked with his dark greyish blue ones. “Thank you,” he whispered, “what did I do to deserve you?”

You would think about his question, yourself. “I’m still trying to figure that out, myself,” you answered, lifting your hand to his left cheek, before you withdrew it, worried that he would be angry at you touching him. “S-Sorry,” you murmured, and Safin shook his head, smiling reassuringly over at you.

“It’s okay,” he claimed, before he attempted to shuffle closer to you, wincing as he did.

“D-Don’t move,” you whined, not wanting his stitches to break, so you hugged him to try and stop him from moving. Safin hesitated, before he returned the hug, relaxing after a moment. “Are you comfortable like this?” You inquired, worried that you keeping him in this position would hurt him.

“I’m fine, angel, don’t worry about me, okay?” Safin stated, and you smiled weakly, nodding whilst revelling in the feeling that you belonged in his arms.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this prompt! ❤️

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