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sweetiecutie · 1 year ago

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🖤Fuck or die🖤

Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!

Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit

A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮‍💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still

It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.

And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.

You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.

Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.

Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.

- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:

- Y/n, get out of here!

Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.

You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.

- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.

- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.

His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.

- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?

Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.

- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.

- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.

- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.

- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.

He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.

- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?

Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.

- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?

You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.

- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.

Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.

You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.

- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?

Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.

- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.

You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.

- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.

- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:

- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.

You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.

- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.

You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.

With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.

- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.

Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.

He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.

Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.

- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.

A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.

- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?

His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.

- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.

With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it’d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.

- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.

Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.

One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.

Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:

- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.

Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.

Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.

A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.

It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.

You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.

- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.

As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.

Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.

And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:

SEE YOU SOON ♡

Slasher! König Masterlist

Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3

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babybluebex · 9 months ago

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venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF ? 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!

There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count).

It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!”

You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one.

The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.”

The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?”

“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.”

You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention.

“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed.

“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?”

You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.”

“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation.

The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”

You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.”

“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.”

You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?”

“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.”

“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.”

“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.”

“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.”

“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?”

You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…”

“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.”

“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?”

The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene.

“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm.

You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up.

You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out.

You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others.

You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy.

Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over.

“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?”

“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.”

“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”

“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.”

“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked.

“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”

“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?”

You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.”

“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too.

“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.”

“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?”

“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked.

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.”

“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks.

Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him.

“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?”

Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?”

“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.”

“Probably,” Angus said simply.

You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.”

To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.”

“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic.

“No,” you told him.

“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next.

You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time.

“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.”

All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!”

You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked.

Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.”

“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.”

“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.”

“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged.

“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.”

“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.”

You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.”

The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say?

Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes.

You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that.

The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”

The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.

You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?”

“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?”

“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?”

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said.

You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same.

Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?

“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.”

You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said.

“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?”

“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.”

You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked.

“Do I mind what?” Angus asked.

“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”

“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.”

“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.”

You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him.

“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”

“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly.

You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up.

“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief.

“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”

“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”

“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?”

“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?”

“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.”

“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”

“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?”

“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.”

“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”

“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.”

You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone.

“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?”

“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”

“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.”

“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!”

“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said.

“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.”

“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”

“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.”

“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?”

“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.”

That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”

Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ.

The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class.

You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn’t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him.

“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.”

As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.”

You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school.

“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.”

“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged.

“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.”

Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas.

Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office.

“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.”

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.”

Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.”

“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”

“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?”

“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.”

You nodded silently.

“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked.

You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.”

“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you.

“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”

“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.”

Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.”

Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives.

After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone.

Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book.

The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room.

Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.”

“Who?” you asked.

“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.”

“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.”

“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”

“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?”

Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”

“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?”

“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”

“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?”

“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.”

Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…”

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!”

“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said.

“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here!”

You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment.

You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open.

Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great.

But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath.

“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you…?”

“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap.

Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently.

“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked.

“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—”

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.”

“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked.

“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.”

“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.”

“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.”

The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway.

“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?”

“Shower,�� you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.”

“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.”

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.”

“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly.

“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.”

“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.”

“Shut up,” you huffed.

“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?”

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room.

Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline.

By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep.

That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway.

You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.”

You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.”

“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.”

“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.”

You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.”

“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”

“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night.

It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”

“Would you?” your mother asked.

“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!”

“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked.

“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy— I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?”

“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end.

“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!”

“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.”

Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.”

“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”

“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.”

“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked.

“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into—

“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.”

“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?”

You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled.

Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.”

You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled.

“Guess so,” Angus echoed.

The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it.

You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours.

Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch.

Accurate, you countered.

Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?”

But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!”

“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly.

“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement.

“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop.

“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.”

You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin.

“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?”

You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.”

Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard.

You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone.

You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up.

“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”

“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?”

Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?”

“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.”

On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.”

You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus.

“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.”

If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”.

The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #the holdovers

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coralinnii · 2 years ago

Text

❋ Falling into his arms ❋ feat: Vil ⭑ Azul ⭑ Deuce ⭑ Malleus genre: fluff note: gn!reader, no pronouns used with reader, unspecified relationships, reader is depicted as magicless,

Trying out his new heels

Vil has an extensive collection of designer shoes of all styles from his modeling gigs or even gifts from companies to entice him to work with them. On occasion, he gets a few of the same style if he ever thinks he knows someone that would pull them off, like you for example.

The young model offered to try out these pair of heels that he said would accentuate your legs even better and he wouldn’t stop until you tried them on, so you did.

But these particular pair were taller than what you were used to walking in so rather than an elegant figure, you more resembled a baby deer wobbling on ice. You only managed a few steps before you tripped up and started falling forward from your loss of balance.

Luckily Vil was keeping a watchful eye on you or before your literal fall from grace, the Pomefiore leader wrapped a strong arm around your waist to pull you upright.

“Good grief, you’re a disaster in heels” he sighed which you pouted in rebuke. Blame the shoes, not you!

“Try again, make sure to lift your legs so as to not trip and shift your weight accordingly” Vil instructed, strict as ever.

But he didn’t move away from you. In fact, Vil offered his arm for you to hold on and stepped in line with you. The blond senior was probably making sure you don’t hurt yourself but you couldn’t help but think you two resemble a couple walking together which conjured feelings of butterflies in your stomach.

You kept your silence about it, hoping you get to stay like this for as long as you can. However, Vil caught your poorly hidden glee and smiled bemused by your cuteness.

Working at Monstro Lounge

It was a busy day at Monstro Lounge as Azul revealed a limited addition menu using a shipment of rare ingredients he procured recently. With the heavy traffic of customers, you took this as an opportunity to make some extra cash for the week.

It was not because you wanted to stay close to a certain caecilian merman. Pfft, of course not.

And even if you did, you didn’t manage to see much of Azul anyway when the stream of students coming in and out made you busy throughout your shift as you zoomed around the restaurant taking orders and serving dishes.

In your haste to bring in a new order, you failed to notice a student getting up from his table and knocked you over, sending you flying backwards.

Panicked, you braced yourself for a bruised back and/or bum. But to your surprise, you felt a pair of arms scooping you before you fell. In your peripheral vision, you noticed the flutter of a large silver coat and matching wavy locks.

“While I appreciate the liveliness of my business, I must prefer to avoid mishaps” Azul quipped, bringing you upright to your feet with such ease that you never realized how sturdy the lean Housewarden really was.

The student who knocked you over apologized sincerely to you which you easily forgiven and the atmosphere returned to a happier ambiance as everyone turned their focus away from you.

You thanked Azul for rescuing you and he played off your gratitude with a business-like smile. “Well, you can also return the favor to me” How typical of the calculating student.

But before he left to return to his office, Azul whispered in your direction and if you weren’t already hyper-focused on him, you could have missed it.

“I rather you take a rest than to run yourself ragged and hurt yourself”

Azul walked away before you could question him but you felt a warm bubbling feeling in your chest. Was the Azul Ashengrotto worried for you?

An accident during flying lessons

Flying lessons are typically uneventful for you since you couldn’t participate with the other magical students. Being on the ground while you watch your classmates soar across the sky stung (though you supposed it’s better than running laps with Coach Vargas)

One day however, Grim had the brilliant idea of letting you fly with him on his broom. He was confident in his skills on the broom that he could handle the extra weight. He is a genius mage, after all.

You should have had better common sense. You’ve seen his progress and you’ve seen him nosedive towards the ground a couple of times so how in Twisted Wonderland can he handle a passenger? But you let your envy win as you wanted to experience the joy of the wind blowing in your face as you flew so you agreed.

So, that was a terrible idea.

There was a moment of excitement as it seemed to be going well. Grim was keeping the broom steady despite the new addition on the stick. The two of you managed a few short laps and you started to let your guard down…then it happened.

You heard Grim let out a yelp as the broomstick suddenly stopped mid-flight and suddenly jolted upwards, scaring you as you were knocked off the broom and started falling straight towards the field.

The wind rushed by your ears, deafening you. You couldn’t hear anything but your own racing heart as tears escaped you.

Then suddenly, you saw a familiar shade of blue as you crashed into a firm body as something - or someone - stopped your fall. Warm arms wrapped around you protectively as you and your saviour descended ungracefully but safely back onto the ground.

“Yo, are you guys ok?!” You heard Ace yelled out as he dashed towards the two of you. “Nice catch, Deucey. Talk about a close call”

It was Deuce who saved you? Clumsy but well-meaning Deuce? Your eyes looked over to see Deuce with his signature blue hair scolding Grim on your behalf and you placed a hand on your chest. Your heart calmed down a bit but it was too quick to be normal. Your face felt hot and your hands felt clammy.

It’s just because of your adrenaline, right?

A misstep while gargoyle watching

Be it by choice or by convenience, you became the main companion to the great fae mage during his nightly stroll to find gargoyles to appreciate. You walked through many nights with Malleus, listening intently to his passionate explanations of these old figures. Whether you like them or not, you have to appreciate the pure joy in Malleus’ voice as he talks endlessly about them.

During one night, the two of you decided to take a closer look at the particularly old gargoyle as Malleus to look over the details of the figure that can only be seen up close.

You were atop of the roof of an old manor, and you could feel how decrepit the building was as you felt certain parts of the roof coming loose or weaker than other areas. Malleus wasn’t worried as he lifted himself to not add his weight on the building.

After a while though, you forgot your worries as you listened to your companion speak about the gargoyle that caught his interest tonight. He pointed out a particularly small detail that you couldn’t quite see. So, you took a step forward to take a better look.

When suddenly, a piece of the roof broke beneath your feet and your foot was caught as you started to fall forward towards the edge of the roof.

You let out a scream fearing the worst, but then you felt a rather gentle brush of wind before you felt your body slowing down. In a flurry of green lights you found yourself floating into Malleus’ arms as he caught you before you even descended off the roof. Gently, he pulled your foot out from the broken part of the manor and proceeded to float down towards the ground below with you in his arms.

“I apologize. It seems I’ve underestimated the state of this building” His voice was calm but you saw glimpses of concern and guilt in Malleus’ green eyes. Without a hint of discomfort, he started to walk towards the Diasomnia dormitories “You have gotten hurt on my watch so I will take responsibility in tending to your injury”

Even if you were shocked by the sudden turn of events, you didn’t voice any complaints as you chose to relish in the warmth of Malleus’ hold. You also didn’t question the young fae why he didn’t just teleport into his dorm or just heal your injured foot right there.

You were willing to take the scolding from Sebek and the embarrassing teasing from Lilia any day for time spent with Malleus, and the feelings seem to be mutual

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst x reader #twst imagines #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #deuce spade #twst deuce x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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jomamaofficial · 1 year ago

Note

Not sure if u do all Mha characters but could u do an all might angst of him having a daughter he doesn’t pay attention much too?

The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: Anon, I’m not going to lie, when I first read this request, I was like ehh… idk if I’ll enjoy writing that. And then I actually sit down and write it, and I’m like, WHAT IN THE WORLD, WHY AM I SO INVESTED IN THIS. So anon, you are a genius and you made my day with this request <3. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. TW: Mentions of blood. Masterlist Edit: Part 2 Word Count: 3548. Summary: Adopted by All Might at the age of five, Toshinori Y/N was being trained to become the ninth user of One For All. With the quirk Element which gave you the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth, you were set for victory in the hero-society. However, after your quirk was stolen, your path led astray, the clear neglect was getting obvious, day by day, as your father found a new student to mentor.

——————————————————————————————————

The phone didn’t even ring for a second and he had already picked it up.

“Y/N, my child, could you get the door? Midoriya-Shounen has come to visit.”

Silently, you obeyed your father as you promptly left your work.

Midoriya Izuku. It was a popular name in the Toshinori household. His name managed to sneak into every dinner conversation, and every evening walk.

And now, he was just outside the door, seconds away from intruding your peace.

You released a breath, fingers on the door handle. Your shoulders dropped down low and you straightened your spine, standing an inch or two taller.

It was finally time to meet him.

So with your best rehearsed smile that still didn’t reach your eyes, and your well rehearsed speech playing continuously in your suffocating mind, you opened the door.

A bouquet of flowers and an earnest grin– this was the first time you met Midoriya Izuku.

A few seconds passed as both of you stood still, your throat running slightly dry as you saw confusion build up in the young man’s face.

“Um”, he took a gulp and stepped back. “I’m looking for the Toshinori household…?”

You blinked at him before clearing your throat.

“Yeah, you’re at th- um, yeah this is- I mean, I am-”

“Midoriya-Shounen!”

A loud and hearty voice greeted the young boy with a warm hug, apron on, spatula in one hand. You winced as you rubbed the shoulder your father swiftly brushed past.

You pressed your lips together as you stood beside the embracing pair, hands behind your back as you hid them further into your sweater.

“Five minutes early as always, my boy! Come on in!”

With an excited nod, the boy stepped inside the house, slipping his shoes off into the side of the genkan before following your father into the living room.

Unspoken words remained discarded in your mouth.

And they led, and you followed.

“You have a lovely house, All Might! I was really afraid I was going to run late. I had a bit of a heart attack when someone else opened the door… I thought I took down the wrong address, my mother told me it would happen but I was so surprised that I didn’t even think to confirm it beforehand or anything and it was so-”

“Midoriya-Shounen, please. Relax,” Toshinori chuckled, resting his hand on the worried boy’s shoulders. “You are here now. Please, sit down.”

Midoriya ran his hand to the back of his hair, sheepishly rubbing it as he took a seat across from you. His cheeks became flushed as his fingers adjusted the neck of his sweater.

Toshinori rushed into the kitchen without another word, grabbing a plate of meticulously placed mochi in one hand, and a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of water in the other.

Midoriya immediately got up as he saw his mentor struggle through the narrow doorway, extending his arms to take the tray from him.

They set the delicacies on the glass table, and without being told, Midoriya placed three coasters that were piled on the side of the table. His nimble hands made quick work of removing the glasses and pitcher from the tray.

“Always a step ahead, my son!” Toshinori commended with a proud grin that stretched across his tired face.

You moved to the side to make space for your father, tensing your legs so you could cramp yourself in the tiny corner of your tiny sofa.

‘My son’.

You watched as your father approached you, a glass of water in hand. Your eyes brightened.

But your fingers barely brushed the cold glass before your father walked past you.

The loud shut of the door shut the sparkle in your gaze and your jaw seized as you observed Midoriya, who moved to the side for your father who sat in the remaining space.

Your hands immediately guarded the sliver of your exposed neck, the pads of your finger rubbing against your collarbone.

Their lengthy conversation bled into a distance, and like a required prop, you just sat in the corner, spacing out onto the clear surface of the table that stood in between, dividing the pride and the disappointment.

Your lips became dry as the shallow inhales and exhales latched onto the chapped skin of your lips.

Water.

You needed water.

But the only glasses in the room glared back at you, half-empty.

“Oh, I’m sorry… Did I take your glass by mistake?”

Midoriya caught on quickly, his eyebrows furrowing apologetically.

You opened your mouth, drawing a breath in until-

“Fret not Midoriya-Shounen, the glass was yours. I must have forgotten to bring the third glass, there wasn’t enough space on the tray, you see.”

Your father had responded once again. And your unspoken words were discarded before they could even be said.

“Y/N, go get yourself a glass, if you please. And on your way, maybe refill the jug too?”

Midoriya stood up with the jug in his hand, “allow me to help you Toshinori-san!”

“Ah nonsense, she can do it herself, my son.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, your father sat Midoriya back down. “We don’t need to ruin the flow of our conversation, young man! We have much to speak about.”

Midoriya tensed his brows as his gaze lowered. But in the end, with a curt nod, he settled into the comfort of his seat and the jug was placed back on the coaster.

Hours passed. Evening twilight wound into night darkness. The bags under Toshinori’s eyes held greater weight, yet his dark vacant eyes held the reflection of the green-haired man in front of him, gleaming in a halo of pride.

It wasn’t until Toshinori’s lungs gave way to a bloody cough that the pair realised that the jug was empty.

It wasn’t until the pair halted their conversation, glasses in hand, that they realised that the sofa in front of them was empty.

After the last few finishing touches, you stepped back with a breath of relief; your aching hips required some support from your hands, but the corners of your mouth twitched.

An infectious pride was blooming in the depths of your chest, painting a ray of sunshine onto your cloudy face. The apples of your cheeks, full and bare; the crinkle of your eye, unfamiliar but genuine. You held your chin up high with your sleeves rolled to your elbows.

“It looks amazing, Y/N-chan!”

You basked in the sonorous sound of your supervisor, who had just stepped besides you.

“This is revolutionary, Y/N-chan, it truly is… I expected one or two sketch designs, but you… I have no words for how proud I am…”

Your lips turned upwards as you met your supervisor’s eyes, beaming her a wide grin before turning back to your exhibition where before you, set delicately, was the accumulation of two years of hard work.

Five scaled down prototypes of iron suits were set on display– standing tall and noble. Each suit was paired with leaflets in their respective stands, with a bold font printed across the face: ‘The Iron Suit and the Quirkless Hero’.

“I couldn’t afford any mistakes sensei… I just couldn’t. This was my dream. It’s been my dream since I was a child...”

And your inner child couldn’t let it go.

So you grabbed her tiny hand, and pulled her far away from her sorrows, protecting her, nourishing her.

The manifestation of the first quirk was regarded as a mystical phenomena; straight out of a sci-fi movie. But as time passed, quirk manifestations spread into common reality. ‘Professional Heroes’– a profession that would have garnered snickers and laughs a century ago, became the most sought after job globally. As the occurrence of a quirk grew, the government instilled quirk academies to scout the best and strongest quirk. Businesses began funding them when the first few heroes were churned out, and so the race to become the number one hero began from age five for many families.

Like all races, it was a test of strength, endurance, and resilience. It wasn’t for the faint of heart, and only the most courageous could join it.

But there were some who just couldn’t join the race? Not because they didn’t want to, no. But because they didn’t even have the legs to reach the starting line.

Toshinori Y/N was adopted by Toshinori Yagi at the age of five. And already, by such a young age, you were sprinting far far ahead.

Your quirk was Element– the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth. Your father watched as he created the most powerful vessel for his ultimate goal: to turn his daughter into the ninth user of One For All.

You had the motivation, you had the strength.

You were thrown head-first into the twisted fate of hero society where nothing could bring greater joy than breaking yourself in the name of progress.

Hero society was a place where the pain of training was the sweetness of improvement, and the scars and fractures were the evidence of determination.

So one fateful day as all good things came to an end, you were walking back home, hair pulled back in two pigtails with a kitty lunchbox in one hand. A bag way too big hung on your ten-year-old shoulders, and your quirk was ripped away, gone forever.

The planes of the neighbourhood harboured pained screams of a disturbed soul that haunted every passing parent for the next two months.

Your legs were torn away in the middle of the race. And all you could do was stare at the passersby who mocked you as you tried to contain your spilling blood in order to survive.

Your smile faded and the storm had returned. Your memories were a recurring nightmare.

And you couldn’t wake up from them.

“Your father will be so, so proud of you, Toshinori-san.”

“Mmm…”

You pressed your lips together, lowering your eyes.

“I know he’ll be proud of you.”

You felt her comforting hand squeeze yours.

“Yes, sensei. He will be.”

Hours went past since your exhibition started. Countless people and countless pats on the back. It was a haze.

“Your call has been forwarded to the automated messaging sys-”

“For god’s sake.”

You cut the phone.

The lines on your forehead deepened as the number of missed calls grew.

Where was he?

Mentally, you replayed this morning’s conversation with your father. You had vividly remembered that you told him three times: “my exhibition is at five, dad. Please don’t be late.”

You had set alarms on his phone with small reminders attached to them: one at 4:00 PM, one at 4:15 PM, and one at 4:30 PM.

Where was he?

Your heart beat a bitter drum as you watched some fathers with roses in one hand whilst the other was pressed against their hips as they gasped for air.

“I couldn’t be late for my angel’s exhibition now could I?”

It was 9:00 PM.

The crowd had died down and you watched as they drained out: proud fathers holding their daughter’s hand, embracing them in unconditional love. Your once eager eyes were tired, exhausted from searching and scanning for the only face you had internally begged for.

Had you not expected it, you would have cried.

Your thumb hovered over your father’s name on your phone, hesitant.

But there was no point. You switched your phone off.

“Hana,” you asked the few friends that were left, “can you help me pack my things please?”

The pitch black darkness dragged the walk back to the nearest bus station. With your hands occupied with bags that contained the remains of your exhibition, periodically, you peered at the dimly-lit empty street behind you.

The street lights flickered sporadically, teasing your lone steps that were getting faster and faster.

The bus ride home was fine. You met a few friends waiting at the stop with their parents. Although when alone on the outer seat, hood still up, your eyes may have lingered too long at the napping daughters resting their head on their smiling fathers’ shoulders.

Your stop approached in forty-five minutes.

It was 10:36 PM when you got off the bus. The usual hustle of your neighbourhood had settled, so it wasn’t too hard to spot a head with green, curly hair leisurely walking towards your bus stop.

“Midoriya-kun?”

The young boy lifted his head from his phone to look around.

You gave him a hesitant wave, receiving a warm smile in return.

“Toshinori-san?” he asked, taking off his earphones.

“Uh, yeah, it’s me.”

You shoved your hands in your pockets.

“Wha- what are you doing here?” you blurted, staring at the ground.

The abrasive nature of your words caused Midoriya to stand straighter. He blinked a few times before answering.

“Oh um, All Might called me over for a chat. He told me you weren’t home so he said it would be a good chance to discuss more… things?”

The young boy ended his sentence with a wavering voice, getting quieter as he saw your body stiffen.

In the moments of your wordless exchange, a warm ache began to develop in the walls of your skull.

Midoriya’s gaze, which was travelling to and fro, fixed upon the bags hanging from your wrists.

“How about you? Um… Where did you come back from?”

Your mind tried to console your heart, hushing the bubbling feelings of resentment towards the boy in front of you.

You let out a sigh, letting your shoulders drop low.

You were tired.

“I came back from an exhibition.”

“Oh really? Were you presenting? Is that what the bags are for?”

Your lips found themselves smiling at Midoriya’s observation.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “they have my exhibition prototypes in them.”

Your ears perked up at the approaching sounds of relaxed footsteps.

“May I see them please?” Midoriya asked.

Finally, you lifted your head to meet his eyes.

You mumbled, passing him the bag with your prototype inside. “Yeah… sure.”

Minutes passed in complete silence. Timid glances found themselves analysing the look on Midoriya’s face, who was carefully reading the contents of your pamphlet, cross-checking it with your prototype. You felt a warm flush on your cheeks as the boy looked up at you, eyes wide and bright.

“You made this? By yourself?”

He was baffled: eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling. You pressed your lips together in attempts to hide your grin as you nodded.

“It took me two years.”

Midoriya carefully placed your prototypes back into their respective boxes, passing the bag back into your hands.

“I didn’t expect this at all- I mean, of course, you’re All Might’s daughter but just, being quirkless and everything? I just-” his expressive face comforted yours.

“You’re so cool, Toshinori-san. You’re so cool!”

The swells of your cheeks began hurting as you stared at Midoriya, your waterline becoming annoyingly emotional.

“Thank you, Midoriya-kun…”

“Please,” he chimed, “call me Izuku.”

You let out a chuckle just this once, sneaking a swipe to wipe the corner of your eyes.

“In that case, please call me Y/N.”

Izuku’s wide grin ignited a mellow flame in your disappointed heart. You cursed your heart for every ill thought that crossed your mind about the boy that stood in front of you.

“I am honoured to meet a brilliant mind like yours Y/N-san… The amount of lives this can save… The amount of innocent lives this can protect from harassment… You’re amazing Y/N-san,” he repeated, bowing down.

You blushed, your hands immediately reaching out towards the young boy to lift him up, “oh, Izuku-kun, please don’t bow…”

“My younger self thanks you Y/N-kun…” he whispered.

There was a small crack in his soft voice.

Your eyebrows twitched and the cold air travelled through the small opening in your mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘younger self’...?”

Midoriya’s big green eyes were frosted on the surface. He straightened his back, staring off into the distance.

“I’m sure your father told you, Y/N-san”, he cleared his throat.

“I was born quirkless.”

Your fingers felt cold.

“Quirkless…?”

“Yes. I was born quirkless. The doctors didn’t know what caused it. My parents had a quirk. My mother can float small objects towards her. And my father has a powerful quirk: fire breathing.”

His voice began quivering and the young boy had to take a pause.

“All I wanted as a young child was to become All Might. I still do, to be honest. I had a little All Might onesie. And my mother bought me all the All Might action figures. I would play hero with her. She used to act like a citizen in distress and for that short amount of time, I was her hero. And that led to me wanting to become everyone’s hero.”

His tears reflected the moonlight waning in the sombre sky.

“I was five years old when I was told my dreams were basically worthless. That I should give up… and become a police officer.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, hiding your hands inside your pockets.

“I didn’t eat for three days. I couldn’t stomach anything, so at some point, I-I guess I ended up fainting, and my mom had to rush me into the ER.”

Two bodies stood underneath the cold, clinical street light, incredibly still.

But the loud noises pinched you to disturb the silence.

You had to know.

“But… what about your quirk now?”

The door creaked open into a fully-lit living room. Toshinori was sitting in front of the television, phone in hand, swiping through his texts.

Trays and glasses– two glasses exactly– were lazing on the table with cubes of melting ice piled up on the bottom. The cushions were moved to the side, and the couch covers relaxed comfortably with deep wrinkles.

An unnoticed figure slipped inside the house and Toshinori felt two eyes settle onto him.

“Y/N, when did you come back?”

Nothing.

“My child,” he stood up, reaching towards your shoulder.

You shrugged his hand off as soon as it touched you, lost in the voices consuming your mind.

“Y/N! What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s eleven.”

“What do you-”

“It’s eleven!”

Your father’s body tensed as he stepped back, his brows knitted in pain and confusion.

Your throat, strained and dry, struggled to find words as it battled against the bitter rise of bile.

Your jaw trembled as your eyes burnt with unshed tears in the now blurring room. The cries of betrayal felt so weak. What should have been anger– a hellflame spreading throughout your house, came out a sniffle and singular tear. Anger that should have engulfed the sounds in the room and overpowered the drone of the television and the tick of the passing time was nothing but suppressed by the overbearing eyes that scrunched in concern.

“What do I have to do to get you to pay attention to me, dad? What do I have to do…” you weeped, your hands consoling your own body because no one else present could.

The cries of betrayal felt so weak because it was someone else’s incompetency, someone else’s fault that pained your wailing heart. And the cries of a wailing heart begging to be loved was a silent sound that overpowered all sense of self.

“What does he have that I don’t, dad? What did he do that I failed to do?”

You broke down into his arms. You found refuge despite his false embrace; it repulsed you because you knew it was going to be short-lived.

It was a fake.

“Why did I have to find out that my father was quirkless from someone else’s mouth?”

You felt his chest fall as your father squeezed you tighter.

“Why didn’t you tell me, dad?” you whispered.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Am I not worthy enough… Was I not worthy enough to find out?”

Your ears preened, begging for reassurance, begging to hear: ‘that’s not true my child’.

But it never came.

“I’m sorry for not being strong enough, dad… I’m sorry for letting him steal my quirk, dad.”

You tore away from his chest, sniffling away your tears for the last time.

“But why didn’t you tell me that One For All could work with quirkless too?”

Toshinori crossed his hands in front of him as he averted his gaze from yours.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Was I not good enough! Am I so weak without my quirk? That you blindly gave your power away to a boy you met a day ago! Dad, look at me!” you screamed, far too lost to control yourself. “Why couldn’t you give it to me, your own goddamn daughter? What did I not do dad, what did I not do!”

Why did All Might extend his hand to save Midoriya, when his daughter gave up her whole life to burn for his dreams?

His silence spoke a thousand words, so it was about time you spoke your final words.

“You’re a great hero, dad. But that’s all you’ll ever be… you’ve been a great hero but you’ll never be a great dad.”

521 notes · View notes

yamysunmoon · 21 days ago

Text

The Anticipation

Pairing: agatha harkness x rio vidal

Summary: Rio crosses boundaries challenging Agatha's orders, and faces the consequences submitting to a punishment session.

Words count: 3-4k

Warnings: bdsm, specifically d/s dynamic, bondage and mouth mask. Mistress!Agatha, Sub!Rio, Brat!Rio. Oral sex, masturbation.

A/N: I was really looking forward to write agathario fanfics, this is the first but won't be the last. English is not my first language, sorry if there's any mistake.

Requests are open! if you have any suggestions feel free to share

creds to the best editor one could have, @milfsdoll (check out her work she's amazing)

Enjoy!

"Alright, so... We have to do the groceries, purchase clothes because I really need a new coat... Was there something else? There's something I'm missing... That's right, Jen! She texted me, the candle you were waiting for is done" Agatha took a glaze at her right. "Hun? Have you heard me?"

Rio was staring at her with a lost look and a sly smile. She bliked twice as she heard the nickname. "Yeah, okay", she babbled. "Can we stop at the mall the latest? If you don't mind" she suggested in a soft voice Agatha loved. The blue-eyed woman nodded in response and took a short glanze at her, again.

Rio loved mornings like this. At the car with Agatha, watching her drive with her right hand, her head resting on her left hand carefree. She looked so relaxed and had an unbelievable profile side. Rio was admiring her pretty big nose, her long lashes guarding those beautiful breathtaking blue eyes; and her full, soft lips; as the woman was mindlessly listing what they had to do.

"Yeah okay, I don't mind" Agatha said, totally overlooking Rio's intentions. The green witch had something in mind. She couldn't bare having her wife looking that good and not doing something about it.

Over the next half hour they had already done the groceries, put them in the car and were now on their way to Jen's. Rio said she wanted to walk, which surprised Agatha yet she agreed.

They were walking when they brushed hands. They both felt the familiar warmth in their chests, Rio grabbed Agatha's hand making her stop. They shared a gaze, it was clear what Rio wanted. Agatha looked both ways of the street before staring at her again. "Not here".

Rio was smiling softly. "Why not? Who cares, we are free now!"

Agatha smirked, she loved it when Rio celebrated they had overcome their first years of relationship, when they were forced to hide their love and Agatha would always be paranoid about her mother finding out.

Rio took a step closer to her. "We're free now" she repeated and squeezed her hand once. Agatha broke the distance between them giving her a soft kiss.

Rio attempted to deepen the kiss, but Agatha quickly pulled away, a cocky smile gracing her lips. "I said 'not here', doll" she warned her. Rio smiled back and nodded, obedient.

Later at Jen's store, Jen and Agatha were chatting and Rio was supposed to contribute to the conversation too, but she couldn't listen to a single word the women were saying. She just couldn't take her eyes off her wife.

The wide, tucked-in, slightly unbuttoned shirt that she was wearing was driving her insane, and her confident elegant presence and figure had Rio blown away.

"Rio, you haven't said a single word. Is the candle to your liking?" Jen tried to chat. She hummed in response and didn't even looked at her. Jen turned to Agatha. "Is she okay?"

Agatha gave Rio a quick glance. This time, she saw something in her eyes. "Yeah, she's fine". She was lying.

As they left, Rio seemed distracted and Agatha was already suspecting of her. "What was that?" she inquired.

Rio shrugged, pretending innocence. "It was nothing" she lied too. Agatha knew, so she let her be and the seed of expectation was planted.

Already in the mall, Rio started with her plan. She started giving Agatha careless caresses here and there, back and forth, each time she would pass by her looking for the perfect coat. She was subtle at first but Agatha soon discovered her intentions and deliberately ignored her.

Rio gradually lost delicacy and went from carelessly brushing to grabbing her arms as she passed behind her, squeezing twice, talking to her in a soft whisper, "is this what you want?" casually referring to a coat, apparently.

Agatha knew how to control her temper, but Rio was getting to her nerves. At some point, they were at a side of the store where no one was watching them and Rio hugged her from behind and rested her body on Agatha's, going full contact.

Agatha groaned. "Do you really want me to stop, sweetheart?" The green witch asked in a sweet, enchanting tone.

Agatha remained still. Rio lightened her grip and her wife walked away taking Rio's hand, driving her to the fitting rooms without saying a word.

She pushed Rio up against the wall as soon as the cortains were drawn. She grabbed her by her clothes and shortly lifted her off the ground. Agatha's pupils had dilated and were staring deep at Rio's eyes.

Rio was feeling her fists against her skin thriugh her clothes and sly smiled. She had won. She had her full attention now, and had defenitely turned her on.

Agatha slowly approached leaning for a kiss when Rio tilted her head to a side. She looked at Agatha sideways, who was giving her a gaze of disbelief.

They shared a glance, challenging eachother. Agatha lowered a hand to Rio's crotch, but she then pulled her legs together.

Agatha raised both eyebrows, her eyes widened. She took a step back and got her hands off her wife. She was offended. "Are you seriously turning me down right now? After provoking me the whole morning?"

Rio couldn't help but smile mischievously, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall in a cocky gesture. Agatha snorted, outraged.

"Oh, you're in trouble, bratty girl. You. Are. In trouble. We'll talk about this at home" she took a step to whisper, "upstairs".

She walked away before seeing Rio's expression, which was of pure excitement. This is exactly what she wanted from the start.

"Look what you've done. Now you're getting punished" she quietly whispered to herself.

"Can't wait".

Rio was surrounded by almost complete darkness. The only thing that enlightened the room was a squared shaped skylight.

She was in the playroom they had at the attic.

The skylight was pointing to the black king sized bed they had in the middle of the room. It poorly lit up some handcuffs hanging on the headbord and an eye mask. Surrounding the bed there were big closets that kept all kind of sex toys and sex torturing tools.

Rio didn't know what Agatha had planned for her, but she was dying to find out. She had dressed up for the occasion, she was wearing a vaporous green top tied to her back and back of her neck, and a simple yet effective black thong. She was barefoot, feeling the cold floor below her feet. Less means more when it comes to seduce Agatha, it's what she thought.

Rio took a step closer. She ran her fingertips through the satin sheets and closed her eyes as she felt the smooth fabric. She breathed in, the leather smell of the room filled her nostrils. Her whole body shivered with anticipation.

And she stood there, her back to the entrance door, her hands relaxed still in touch with the sheets, her head tilted up, to the skylight, her eyes closed. Breath in, breath out. She was waiting.

Agatha made her entrance a few minutes later. Rio felt the nervousness growing in her stomach. The sound of Agatha's heels was getting closer and closer. She finally closed the gap between them until she found herself right behind Rio. She ran her fingers along her spine.

"Do you know why you're here, brat?"

Agatha's voice was deep, serious and slightly raspy. Rio smiled and tilted her head towards her.

"Have I been bad, perhaps?"

Agatha's right hand was now running along her neck. She grabbed tight and Rio could feel her inditex and thumb on the sides of her neck. Her bodies were brushing.

"You haven't behaved like I needed you to. It's unacceptable".

She was looking at Rio's eyes with irritation and disapproval apparently, but deep down she enjoyed punishment sessions just as much as her brat did.

"I'm willing to pay for my actions, M'lady" she was using her brat voice again, she was mocking Agatha giving her a smirk.

Agatha squeezed harder. "Don't call me that now. I'm your Mistress". Rio gasped and her smile widened, looking psychotic.

"Whatever you say, Mistress".

Agatha nodded now satisfied. Rio looked down to her lips and was about to approach when Agatha stopped eye contact.

It was then when she showed what she was carring with her left hand. She positioned it in front of Rio's eyes, who looked ahead. Her eyes widened as she inmediately recognized the toy. She held her breath for a second feeling her core shrink.

"You were really disobedient before. It really annoyed me". Agatha's voice behind Rio was mesmerizing, and her right hand was now carrissing her chin. "Are you willing to put your voice and complete being at my service?"

Rio was staring at the mouth mask with determination. "I am, Mistress". Her voice shoke with pure excitment.

"Do you know what to do if you can't take it?"

Agatha needed to be sure about Rio's commitment and consent at all times. She wouldn't be able to speak up, so they had non verbal ways of communicating through the session. Rio sure remembered what she had to do, but she couldn't help but giggle, her brat nature overcoming her once again.

"You think I can't take a little ball in my mouth?"

Agatha looked at her from her left and made her tilt her head. "No more games, bratty. Stop it now". Oh, she was pissed.

Rio said no more. Her brat mode was on, she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to take her wife and Mistress to her fucking limit, so that she would take her to the limit. So she just stared at her and raised an eyebrow. She looked at her lips again, so soft and seductive.

Agatha then raised an eyebrow too and gave her a little smirk. Her eyes lit up with a sort of macabre vibe in them, and she stepped back leaving Rio eager.

She stood behind her again. She was running her fingertips all over her nude arms, shoulders and back, giving her goosebumps. Finally she tucked Rio's hair behind her shoulder so her face would be exposed. She took a glanze at her once again, "Open your mouth", she said, before placing the toy.

Rio instantly opened her mouth just wide enough so that the ball could be placed. She couldn't help to close her eyes in pure pleasure as she felt the object, its smoothness and slightly cold sensation.

Agatha took the belts and adjusted them on the back of her head. Rio felt them tighten around her head. The leather fabric was soft to the touch.

"Is it too tight?" The Mistress joyfully asked. Rio nodded, also playing. Agatha knew she was kidding, so she tied it tighter with a determined pull. Rio mouned in response.

Agatha stood again behind her and started running her fingertips, touching her arms, shoulders and hips. She removed the threads that kept Rio's top hanging and unraveled two more on her waist. The piece fell on the black sheets. Agatha heard Rio's gasp.

She countinued touching her very superficially, barely meeting her skin and defenitely not satisfying Rio's desperate need of contact. She was teasing Rio's body with her hands, challenging her, torturing her.

Rio knew she wasn't allowed to move. She was at Agatha's will now. She had to be patience and good so she would eventually give her what she wanted. That was what the whole show back in Jen's shop was about. She teased her earlier because she couldn't bare how much she needed her. So she claimed her attention until it was too much, until she was too bad and had to be punished. Now she'd have to be obedient and compliant. Agatha would reward her later.

At least that's what she was telling herself as Agatha's hands kept touching her in that breathtaking way. She thanked Gaia the ball of the mask had holes, and her heavy breathing invaded the whole room.

Agatha wanted to tease Rio as much as she could but her discipline was starting to fall apart. Rio was trying her best not to move but the goosebumps she was giving her were obvious.

She slowly approached until her lips met the back of Rio's neck. She kissed her skin chastely. Rio almost shook her head, but managed to stay still and instead just hummed.

"Very well" Agatha kissed her again in sign of approbal. "This is exactly how I want you, bratty. Just like this. So good" she kept talking in a calm voice as her kisses went down her spine.

She got on her knees meeting the last piece of fabric that kept Rio for being completely naked. She breathed in, breathing in her scent. She smiled again, she was crazy for that smell.

"Looks like you're ready for me, aren't you?", she looked up. Rio nodded fervently. The brunette was dying to touch Agatha, she sure was. Agatha knew that. That's why she loved how Rio's whole body trembled as she took the black thong' strings and pulled it down.

"Up" she whispered grabbing Rio's right leg. Rio raised it so Agatha could take the string. Did the same thing with the other side. Rio stood up firm again and Agatha took a minute to admire her.

"Oh, how good you look from down here" her voice was still whispers, she was amazed. Rio raised an eyebrow, pleased.

"Spread a little, my bratty" her tone became hardened but still in a whisper as she stood up to take something from a closet Rio couldn't see.

She obeyed, positioning herself as she knew Agatha wanted her to. When Agatha turned around and saw her, her jaw dropped for a moment. She stared at her from where she was, where Rio couldn't reach her, as she played with the toy between her hands.

"Lean on the bed" She bit her lip as Rio did exactly what she said. She could watch her like this all day, spread for her, resting her hands on the mastress, still stood up. Agatha was still playing with the toy, she turned it on. The sound of vibration instantly filled their ears.

Rio recognized that sound at once. She sighed and let out a desperate groan. Agatha's deep laugh was what she recieved for response at first. Then, she reached Rio and stood behind her again and made her wait a little longer before the clit-sucker entered in contact with her body. She first positioned it at her left thigh, so close to her vulva. She moved it around that zone, same thing on her right thigh.

Rio was doing an incredible job holding back. She craved that vibrations just some inches further up, and a little move would place the toy just where she needed it, but she knew that would be silly. She had to wait. Just a little longer...

Agatha knew her lover's body as if it was hers -though it kinda was hers-, she felt her desperation, but she wanted to test her. How much could she take?

This is what she was referring to when she asked earlier. It wasn't physical resistance what intrigued her. She wanted to make Rio go insane, because that's what she deserved for being such a fucking brat.

"This is what you've earned", she kept moving the object impossibly near to where it was needed, yet not reaching that point. "This is what you gain when you disobey my orders, bratty".

Rio would've talked if she could. She knew how to win her with words, she always managed to find a way out. She knew how to seduced her.

But Agatha sure knew how to play that game to.

The Mistress kept teasing her for fifteen torturing minutes. She was dragging the toy from her pubis to her groins, never sucking what it should.

It was in such an intense mood that was actually stimulating Rio's clitoris down her lips, but it still wasn't enough for her. Both could feel Rio's wetness making the toy slip more than once, touching her folds for a second, causing her to tremble and groan.

Agatha could feel Rio's wetness all over the place, soaking her fingers when she slightly touched the zone everytime she moved the toy back and forth. When the toy slipped, she showed no mercy and pushed it away each and every time.

Although it was incredibly difficult to hold on, Rio had enough control on herself to stay still. She had to grab the sheets, groan and heavily breath the whole time - teasing Agatha without realizing-, but managed to keep still.

At some point she started feeling numb, losing her senses. She needed to be released so bad her arms ached and trembled, she was so needy and desperate she started to moan in a different way. Agatha recognized that specific moan. Rio was begging.

Heavily breathing, Rio tried to vocalize her need eventhough she knew she probably wasn't allowed to. She didn't care at this point, she needed to be fucked.

Indeed, Agatha could not understand her but she had a vague idea. She let out a maquiavelic, light cackle.

"Alright beauty, are you gonna behave now?" she finally asked.

Rio nodded eagerly and hummed, and tried to look at her, but couldn't tilt her head just enough. That made her feel even more needy.

"Aw, breaks my heart to see you like this" she mocked her with a touch of pitty in her tone. "You really can't take this any longer, can you?" She turned the clit-sucker off.

Rio furrowed her eyebrows and felt angry and arrogant for a moment, but horniness quickly won the war. Agatha had got closer now so Rio could communicate with her. Still with her eyebrows frown, Rio reached Agatha's arm and squeezed twice.

Agatha smirked and returned the squeeze. "I love it when you give in like this, beauty". Rio snorted in response, making Agatha laugh as she positioned behind her again turning the toy on. "Come on, you love it", she paused, "the anticipation".

Rio heavily breathed in. She was feeling numb again, it was as if Agatha had put a spell on her. It wouldn't be a surprise, tho. She nodded gently, docile.

Agatha was finally pleased. She was very excited too at that point, and couldn't extend this very longer eather. She explored Rio's mound one more time before finally introducing it between her folds.

Rio let out a loud groan as she finally felt the damned toy sucking what it should. "Ough, it was fucking time already" is what she was trying to say with that mask on her mouth preventing her from doing so.

Agatha was holding her by the right hip. She gave her a warning grab. She moved the clit sucker a few milimeters away as Rio whined again. "Don't be a whiny and get on the bed".

Rio crawled to the middle of the bed and stayed in that position, her legs spread and her back curved. Agatha stood on her knees right behind her and started properly masturbating her at last.

Rio groaned, head back and eyes closed. Agatha's right hand positioned on Rio's right hip moved in a way that Rio knew very well. She was letting her swing.

Rio grabbed the sheets and started bouncing her hips against the clit sucker in a profound, firm way. She rested her forehead on the mastress and made her ass go up as her back bend.

Agatha gasped, she started breathing heavinily and she pleased her wife, her bratty beautiful woman, as she watched her get absolutely lost on her pleasure.

The bratty woman started fucking the toy in such a violent, thirsty way. Agatha was playing with the sensations moving it at her will, making it stimulate this or that zone of Rio's vulva, going from her major labia to her clit, to her entrance, spreading her wetness everwhere, enjoying Rio's gasps with every move.

Rio followed Agatha's hand at all times and her hips followed her Mistress rythm. She felt sweat trickling down her thighs, she felt Agatha licking her back. She felt her hands stiffened from gripping the sheets so tightly. And she obviously felt the tension building in her lower stomach and in her cunt. She tried to pull it back again and again, and Agatha smirked at the vision of Rio's way of torturing herself, without her intromision.

She squeezed her hips lovingly, ready to be there for her. "You can cum now, bratty", she said.

Rio didn't thought it twice, she actually wasn't thinking at all. She crumbled down on Agatha's hand, sinking so deep in her yearned enjoyment, feeling those vibrations deep inside her, making her tremble and shake and shudder so hard she couldn't hold her orgasm anymore.

She released a loud, high-pitched moan as she held it, Agatha moving the toy up and down just the right way to extend it as long as possible.

Agatha knew exactly when to put it away, just when Rio was feeling overstimulated. When Rio was finally free, she let herself fall on the mastress, face down, gasping.

Agatha laid next to her and held her whispering praises. She untied the mask and stroke her hair lovingly. She started breathing deep and camly so Rio would copy her, which she did eventually.

Rio moved away a few minutes later, lying face up. Agatha was watching her every moves, resting her elbow on the pillow. Their gazes met, they laughed for a moment. Their laughter faded, Agatha was about to kiss her but Rio talked, with determination.

"I'm ready".

Agatha rewarded her with the sexiest smile before pulling her closer into a deep meaningful kiss. Rio was cought by surprise but instinctively gave in. Agatha grabbed her by the armpits and lifted her up, leaving her leaning against the headboard of the bed. Rio let out a gasp as her head hit the wood.

"What are you going to do to me?" She asked joyfully.

"Nothing you don't desire", was all she said before kissing her passionately.

Rio was barely putting her hands on her when Agatha stopped the kiss to grab the handcuffs hanging above them.

"Ough, Mistress,..." She was about to complain but Agatha glared at her with a warning expression in her eyes. Rio gulped and said no more.

Agatha cuffed her to the bed within seconds. She took advantage of the positions they were in to look at her clothes for the first time. Agatha was wearing a tight deep purple and black corset that lifted her chest and lace black panties. Her High heeled boots went almost to her knees, and these were also black, made of latex.

Rio started feeling distressed as she found herself deprived of moving again. Agatha was on her knees in front of Rio, cupping her beautiful face with one hand. Rio looked at her eagerly.

"I beg of you, Agatha. Mistress... My mistress, please, let me touch you" her glanze went down to her body. She was starving.

As Agatha's panties were black, Rio couldn't tell but she was soaked wet. She knew exactly what she was gonna do to her. She got up on the bed and, leaning against the headboard of the bed with one hand, she lifted one leg and slowly stuck the needle of her boot between Rio's boobs.

"Oh, and i'm letting you, my dear. I'm gonna let you touch me, for sure. Don't you think it's time for you to please your Mistress?"

Rio felt the needle pressuring against her skin. That kind of pain was tickling. Her jaw dropped. "Fuck yeah" she concured, her eyes wide open. Agatha chuckle, arrongantly. She pulled away the boot and started taking off her clothes.

She got undressed with Rio's gaze all over her, greedy. She had the idea of doing it slowly, but after watching Rio cum the way she did, and look at her like that now, she was done playing games. So she took it all off and sat on Rio's lap.

Rio went for her tits without hesitation and let out a moan as soon as the pink hard left nipple brushed her lips. Agatha grabbed Rio's hair and moved it at her will, making her kiss, lick and suck wherever she wanted her to.

She bounced towards her bratty letting her instincts take control. Rio also moved her body towards Agatha, groaning as her hands couldn't reach her beloved.

Agatha kept Rio stimulating her for some minutes, and she would've loved to stay like that for a while, but her body had other plans. The pressure building in her lower stomach was persistent.

"Fuck, I need to sit on your face" she said standing up.

"Do so, then" it's all Rio could say before reciving Agatha's cunt right on her mouth.

She started sucking and licking as if her life depended on it and Agatha rode her without an ounce of mercy. She was bouncing so hard she had to hold on to the headboard of the bed. Taking advantage of her position, she uncaffed Rio with a simple gesture of her hands. Rio was quick to react and grabbed Agatha's ass, pulling her even closer.

Agatha fucked Rio's face for a delightful time. Everytime she was feeling the orgasm reaching her, she slowed her movements. Rio also licked lightly everytime that happened. Then, as she felt more in control, Agatha would speed up again, making herself and Rio go crazy.

They both had a great time playing with Agatha's body that way, to a point in which she wasn't able to contain the pleasure any longer.

She let out a freed loud moan as her cum soaked Rio's lips and chin. Rio still sucked for a little while, while Agatha rode her gently a little longer.

"Fuck, sometimes I don't know when to stop" she admitted in a sigh, getting off her, she sat on Rio's lap. They looked at eachother's eyes.

"I can't get enough of you, M'Lady" Rio said, fearless. Agatha was already gasping and her beloved still wanted to leave her speechless.

"I love you", those were three words she always managed to say, tho. They relied on eachother's foreheads and their noses brushed.

"I fucking love you too, Agatha".

#agatha all along #agatha x rio #fanfic #smut #agathario #agathario smut #d/s #d/s relationship #d/s dynamic #bd/sm brat #x you

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mizu0xox0 · 10 months ago

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Emergency Transport Luchino x gn reader headcannons

(this was written and based on the skin descriptions for all the COA 7 skins. This wasn't based on any COA 7 lore as it hasn't been released yet. Also not proofread)

-Emergency Transport Luchino who was your loving husband before the whole world turned upside down and he still is, the only difference was his hatred towards these life devouring creatures that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

-Emergency Transport Luchino whose hatred was fueled even more when you had gotten infected and were placed under observation by the research team. You were kept in a room for the researcher's safety. Every now and then Luchino would visit you and when he does all he can do is speak and look at you with a glass wall acting as a barrier from him touching you. At times he would try his best not to cry when you put your hand against the glass as he does the same, he wishes to feel your touch even just once is enough for him.

-Emergency Transport Luchino who embarks on an expedition with Pioneer Research, Mycology, Doomsday Rescuer and Rare Case. As Luchino operates the vehicle to their location, he feels envy at times when the rear view mirror catches a glimmer of Doomsday Rescuer and Rare Case acting affectionately at the backseat. It painfully reminds him of how he used to be able to hold you, kiss you and touch you. Yet now that was just a fleeting dream as there was a glass barrier separating the both of you.

-As they ventured further down the hole and to the source that caused this all. Emergency Transport Luchino who has to remind himself that each step he takes, he’ll be closer to knowing the truth and hopefully finding a cure for you as your condition worsened gradually day by day. Your agonizing shrieks of pain haunt him as he saw a white parasite growing out of your left eye the day before he left for the expedition. How he wishes he could have broken that glass barrier and held you in his arms to comfort you in his embrace. But that didn’t matter for now as the team went deeper into the hole.

-Emergency Transport Luchino who exits the source with the rest of the team and heads back to the safe place. However they weren’t the same as they were before leaving. The facility is in shambles with the researchers fleeing the place as bright red alarms flashed and sounded noisily.Leaving you behind as you laid in a corner of your ‘enclosure’ only for the glass that kept you from the others to be shattered.

-Emergency Transport Luchino who embraces you in his arms after all could you blame him? It's been awhile but why now, what if he got infected by you? Were your first concerns however as he removed his mask. In front of you was no longer the man you loved but rather a husk of his former self or something akin to that.

-Emergency Transport Luchino who gave into his desires, even though he knew he shouldn't have.But how could he not when he saw you and him living in normalcy from the Lord Of Calamity, so he got infected willingly. But it's alright it was still him, just like you as he carried your weakened and fragile body through the hallways of blaring alarms and red flashing lights. This was what he hoped for wasn’t it? To touch you once more, to hold you close once more even if this wasn’t the outcome you both wanted in the end.

Thank you for reading! I somehow managed to write this out thanks to the major brain rot I was having of this skin.

#idv x reader #idv headcanons #identity v x reader #luchino diruse #idv luchino #Luchino x reader #Luchino Diruse x reader

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dontexpectmuch · 10 months ago

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part 3 - [Lost in Madrid]

author note; judiño truly is a menace to society, but also a goof. hope you like it, guys!!!!!!

(did not proofread)

series.masterlist

“i bet you can’t hit the crossbar from here.” lucas, a young player from another football team, speaks up, playfully hitting judes shoulder.

jude chuckles, eyes now looking at the goals crossbar lucas was referring to. it is located on the right side of the benches, a bit smaller than an actual goal, but that wouldn’t be a problem for him. he also sees another person sitting on the benches, their head turned down, probably reading something from their book.

jude takes the ball and places it in front of him, looking at the crossbar them back at the ball as he takes a fee steps back, only to run back up to the ball and kick it with his right foot. immediately the ball flys up, some pieces if grass getting pulled along as he and a few other teammates watch the ball fly to direction of the goal.

too weak, he thinks to himself, though he does not habe enough time to criticize himself any further, his eyes widening as he sees where exactly the ball was flying to.

“yo, watch out!” he screams on the top of his lungs, a few other guys doing the same, to no avail.

[un]fortunately, you hear their calls, a bit late though, because as soon as you look up you are met with a football directly hitting the right side of your face, pushing you back against your seat.

“fuck.” jude mutters to himself under his breath, already jogging towards you and coach lagarde, who was crouched in front of you.

his heart threatens to jump out his chest, it feels like he couldn’t breathe and different scenarios are going through his head until he reaches the two of you,

“señor i am, so, fuck, i am so sorry.” the words leave his mouth, almost like he couldn’t control them.

both men look at you, sitting in your seat with your head in your hands, taking deep breaths. jude bends down slightly, hand softly touching your shoulder, as if he was afraid to hurt you any further.

“i am, eh, mucho, mucho siento.”

great, now isn’t the right time to forget how to speak spanish properly, he almost gave you a concussion, or fuck, what if you have a concussion because of his stupid mistake.

you take another deep breath and lift your head, eyes still closed. you try to open them, it seems as if the bright outside bothers you, making you close your eyes again. jude sees a few tears slip down your cheek and decides to stand in front of you, shielding you from the sun. you open them again, blinking rapidly until you get used to the light.

he hears you mumble something under your breath, and looks around to gibe you something that might help, his eyes register a feeling water bottles on the ground and he immediately picks one up, opens its lid and hands it to you, “here.”

you thank him, taking a few sips to help you to calm down.

“that was a hell of a shot.” you say, voice raspy, making judes skin tickle.

he scratches the back of his neck, sighing, “yeah, sorry about that.”

coach lagarde decides to take you to the nurse, telling him to go back to the field and continue his training. so, he does as he is told and groans as he sees his teammates faces.

“is that your way of flirting?” one of them asks, earning a round of giggles from the others.

“shut it, amigo. i hope it’s not a concussion.” jude turns to look at the door you and señor disappeared into, hoping to speak to you before you leave.

training resumes again, though jude can’t help but let his thoughts wander on, thinking about ways to apologize to you. he should definitely go to the nurse as soon as he can, just find a way to talk to you and make sure that you are doing well. jude can’t help but cringe at the accident that happened earlier, passing the ball back to his teammate as he moves up to a different position. hitting someone in their face? that has never happened before! why would it happen now, out of all times.

as soon as training ends and the coach reminds them to eat their protein, jude quickly moves to walk into the nurse office, eyes searching for you everywhere.

“buenos días.” he walks in, but other than the nurse no one was inside the office, making his shoulders sack.

“¿Cómo puedo ayudarte chico?” the lady asks, eyes curious.

“eh,” jude pauses, thinking of ways to speak spanish, however he gives up as no actual word comes to his mind and decides to stick to english, “did someone come in here earlier? with señor lagarde?”

the woman nods, telling him that you have already left twenty minutes ago, also adding that it wasn’t that bad, that you would be okay by tomorrow. jude thanks her and wishes her a nice day as he leaves her office, a sigh leaving his lips as he continues to walk to the parking lot where his mother would be waiting for him.

he’ll definitely apologize to you, he just has to find the right moment to do so.

————————————————————

the cafeteria is buzzing with people talking and laughing during their break, the air conditioning is working overtime, though it stands no chance against madrids heat, and the crowd inside.

though jude only spends two days of the week at the center, he can’t help but feel a certain familiarity as he walks through the cafeteria, eyes looking through the tables of people, searching for someone.

even though this someone isn’t someone he actually knows, this person made him spent extra time on his hair and skincare routine this morning, making him trim his beard - if you can even call it that - and cut his nails. he chose his nicest pair of sport gear, wanting to get a reaction from you.

he holds his head high, eyes focused on finding your head, causing him to accidentally bump into someone.

“didn’t see you there.” he says, eyes still wandering, adding a quick, “‘m sorry.” as he moves on, thinking that he sighted you.

it is only when he is ten meters away that he notices that, fuck, you are the person he bumped into, not even giving you a proper apology once again. he quickly turns around, panicky expression on and high alerted. however you are no where to be seen, seemingly having left the cafeteria after the small incident.

jude sighs, “fucking great.”

————————————————————

the following week, jude tried his best to gain your attention somehow, but the only time to do so is during practice. so, he does what everyone would do in his situation, be an attention seeker.

he would be extra loud, yell at your direction and wave, not really gaining any reaction whatsoever.

other times, he tries to - gently - flank the football towards the bench you are sitting on, or try to hit your legs softly whenever your back is turned away, speaking to coach lagarde.

however, nothing - and he genuinely means nothing - would make you react. like a stone cold person, you’d just stand there, maybe look annoyed to the direction the ball came from, but nothing else.

truly frustrating.

——————————————————

it has already been a week since you and jude - forcefully- spent the evening in your home, talking [he was doing that for the most part] and enjoying each other’s company [he for sure did]. he feels like a friendship between you two isn’t impossible anymore, since you also [kinda] got used to his presence.

so, whenever he is at the center, getting in his spanish lessons and what not, he will also spend time with you. you still won’t let him walk you home, claiming that it is too much for now and that you would rather wake with your friend.

at first he thought that said friend of yours would be that woman that you sometimes get coffee with from the cafeteria, so immersed in your conversation that you won’t even notice jude sitting across from you at another table, eyes looking at your fave at any given chance.

he is proven wrong when he walks past your apartment building one day, on his way to get some snacks, seeing you and some other dude walking down the street, laughing and seemingly having a good time. you solely focus on that mana face, nodding and smiling at whatever he says, making judes blood boil in a way he has never felt before. if he could, would’ve run across the street to pull you away from that guy, telling you that he is way funnier than him and that you should look at him that way. he internally pats his own shoulder for not giving in to his thoughts, continuing his walk to the store to get his snacks.

now, the two of you are sitting on the bench outside on the sidelines of the field, jude spending his water break talking to you.

“so like, you just listen and watch how we react to given commands from señor?” he questions your work here, genuine interest present in his voice.

you nod, swallowing the piece if bread in your mouth, “i just watch how you guys pick up the language, in comparison to babies, for example. babies learn the language because they naturally need to communicate in order to express themselves. now, you guys are older, able to express your needs. but i want to see how you would do it in an environment that isn’t in your familiarity, y’know?”

“ahh.” he nods again, taking another sip from his bottle.

you look pretty today, he notes, eyes looking at your outfit, then your face. the sun starts to set slowly, crafting calming colors in the sky, adding to your prettiness.

“is this your last session, today?” he asks, bending down to tighten his shoelaces.

“yeah.”

“let’s stay after practice-“

you cut him off, “no, i still don’t want you to walk me home-“

he scoffs, “i wanted to stay and practice a little longer with you, but okay. main character syndrome is real.”

you hum, before agreeing, telling him you’ll wait. jude smiles and gets up from his seat, ready to go back. “you know, i am funnier than your guy that walks you home.”

“lorenzo?” you look up at him, eyes meeting his.

damn, even your eyes are fucking pretty.

“don’t care about what his name is, you would laugh louder with me than you do with him.” jude continues, a weird feeling taking place in his chest.

oh no, is he getting influenced by your negative energy?

“that’s rude.” you mock him, mimicking his voice and accent, horribly failing at it, too.

this makes him laugh, almost giggling like a little schoolboy. he catches himself, turning quiet and clearing his throat.

“i, eh, i should go.” fuck, why was he making things so awkward?

you cutely smile at him, oh god - you cutely smile at him - telling him you will be here until he finishes the session.

this gives him the boost of motivation he needed to go through the practice session, smile never leaving his lips and eyes wandering to your direction every once in a while.

“this is why you wanted to stay longer? to race?” you rest your hands on your hips, looking at jude the way his mother would look at him whenever he did something he shouldn’t have.

“it will be fun! strengthen our bond!” he explains himself, coming back to stand next to you after putting a cone a few meters away from you guys as a finish line.

“we aren’t friends.” you quickly deny, making jude chuckle.

“oh, we so are.” he says, stretching his arms a bit, “we are like, wait, lemme think, eh. do you know those moon and sun duos on tiktok?”

“no, i don’t.”

“you’re definitely the moon, all gloomy and dark and cold and mean and i am the sun, super nice, wholesome, hot and beautiful.” he explains, giggling at the sour expression you throw at his direction.

jude tells you to get in position, counting down to three to signal the go. you get ready, determined to give your best even though you wish to lay in your bed right now. it doesn’t matter that he plays football for a living and has been running around his whole life. you won’t go down without a fight.

“okay,” jude raises his voice, bending down slightly, “one, two,” he looks at you, seriousness painting your face, “three!” and before you know it, jude pushes you away, making you lose your balance and almost fall down as he sprints away, passing the finish line faster than you can register.

“dude!” you yell out, “what the hell was that?!” you walk up to him, but he doesn’t take you serious, hands resting on his knees as he loudly laughs at you.

only when you start to hit his shoulder he stands up, jogging away from your hands, to no avail, as you decide to follow him and continue to hit him with your hands.

“stop moving! i will end you!” you yell out, now properly running after him, his laugh booming through the entire field.

you don’t know how long this goes on for, but before you know both of you are laying on the ground, heavy breaths leaving your mouths and sweat shining on your forehead, covering your body as well. jude was the first one to lay down, taking you with him as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down with him. you are too out of breath to notice, but his warm hand stays wrapped around your wrist, his thumb gently caressing the inside of it.

“i hope you know,” you calm down a bit, turning your head to the left to look at him, his eyes already focused on you, “you are so, incredibly, indescribably, so out of this world-ly, annoying. i genuinely hope you know and understand that.”

“wow,” jude smirks, hand letting go of your wirst to prob his head against it, now looking down at you a bit, “and i thought you would confess you undying love and adoration towards me.”

“in your dreams.” you roll your eyes. looking back up at the sky.

“in my dreams we do even more than that.” he winks - heh, he wishes - at you, even though he knows that you don’t see it.

you groan, hitting his chest with your left hand. of course he would say something like that, but you can’t help and laugh at your current situation. here you are, laying on faux grass, the sun setting, the breeze softly kissing your skin.

“what’s so funny.” jude asks, also smiling.

you shrug, not sure what to say, “don’t know, ‘m just, like, i guess i’m just happy right now?”

“me too.” jude lays back onto his back, facing up to look at the sky.

everything right now is just, perfect.

——————————————————

with lorenzo by your side, the two of you walk into the cafeteria, your lunch break finally in the same time slot. it has been a busy week, with many new students coming in and practice sessions going longer than usual. these are the last two weeks before international break for the volleyball players, their teams demanding them to take in as many courses as they can.

“maybe you should make them read books?” lorenzo suggests, his hand on the small of your back to guide you to your table.

sighing, you shake your head and take seat, “that won’t help, many of them can’t even right a sentence correctly due to the silent letters.”

lorenzo hums, taking a bite from his sandwich. since he only has spanish players trying to learn english, he won’t be in such a hurry to get through the lessons as fast as you are.

your eyes scan the room, not particularly searching for anything [that’s a lie], seeing all the people talk amongst themselves and laughing at the stuff by said. the second month of your internship already started, but it feels like forever since you started here. you grew to love these people, the food and the culture. you are happy with the job you have here and the friends you made. but when you can’t spot the person you are actually looking for - yes, you admit it - you feel your shoulders sack, disappointment spreading through your chest.

it’s not like you miss jude, no, you don’t, but seeing him just makes your day feel complete. ever since the two of you started to spend more time together, you [forcefully] started to enjoy his presence more than you ever thought you would. jude still is as annoying as ever, constantly teasing you whenever he gets the chance, but that only let’s you tease him back as well, comfortable banter between you two.

“you good, linda?”

lorenzos voice pulls you out of your thoughts, making you focus on him once more.

you smile, nodding simply at his words as you take a sip from your juice.

he leans forward, voice low, “don’t make it obvious, but the british player behind you look at you like he wants to throw knives at your head.”

you immediately turn around, heart beating fast since you know whom he is referring to.

and there he is, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. the hand on top of the table is also clenched, and instead of focusing on the conversation around the table, he just looks at you, or more like, past you, at lorenzo.

“nah, that is his default stare.” you wave off, turning back to drink your juice, a smile finding its way onto your lips.

you quickly realize what is happening and try to shake out of it, smile instantly vanishing.

what the fuck was happening to you? did he actually manage to influence you with his stupid behavior? would you also be this annoying now?

lorenzo shrugs, finishing his food and taking your dishes back to the cleaning station. you follow suit, turning back once more to have a final look at jude, his eyes already focused on you. he sends you a wink - not really - and you respond with a wave, turning around to walk back to your class with lorenzo.

you day goes on like it always does, answering questions, correcting reports and spending time on the field to watch the practice sessions go on. you also have few conversations with other players, asking them about their experience when learning a language and having to usw it during stressful situations. the process of your thesis slowly builds up, the results better than you anticipated.

as you pack your back after the session, the you feel somebody standing in front of you, blocking the sunlight to hit your body. looking up, you see a sweaty jude, breath rising and falling in a even manner.

“can i help you, señor bellingham?” you ask, standing up, eyes never leaving his.

are you the only one that suddenly feels really hot?

“walk with me?”

“you smell.” you scrunch your face, smile however still visible.

“the showers here are weird, i’ll shower at home.” he pats his forehead with a towel, “so, walk with me?” he asks again, hopeful tone never wavering.

you tilt your head to the side, “doesn’t your mother pick you up?”

“told her that we are walking home-“

“lying is bad, judy.” you throw in, making him roll his eyes.

“-so you have to walk with me.”

“it’s not my fault that you lied to your mum, jude.” you shrug, starting to walk away.

you don’t have to turn around to know that jude follows you, you can already feel his body heat on your back. he is close, you note, though as you turn around you seem to underestimate how close he actually is. your face is close to his broad chest, you can smell his perfume mixed with sweat and the scent of grass. you should be gagging at how close you are to his sweaty body, but somehow it doesn’t bother you as mich as you thought it would. instead, you feel your heart racing, its sound in your ears. jude looks down at you, dark eyes pulling you into a trance.

before you get too immersed, you pull back, “eh, excuse me? ever heard something of personal space?”

he shrugs, picking up his own back to sling it over his shoulder. he walks ahead, opening gate to leave the field, “let’s go home, wanna shower.”

you don’t say anything, deciding to walk through the gate and wait for jude to shut it behind him. you begin to walk home, comfortable silence settling between you two, the suns setting rays feeling like fairy dust on your skin. the sky is orange, hints or purple and pink creating the perfect scene for a relaxing walk. from the conner of your eye you try to look at jude, wanting to see if he enjoys this walk as mich as you do. he simply looks ahead, soft smile and shoulders relaxed. he looks really good surrounded by the different colors of the sky.

“you’re pretty.” your voice is soft.

hearing you say that makes jude trip, making him choke on his own spit and coughing violently. your eyes widen, you immediately start to hit his back to make him regain his composure. the laughs spill from your lips, it is out of your control.

“thanks-“ he coughs again, hitting his chest to help him calm down, “thanks. i know.” his voice, a few seconds ago high pitched, is now low, wanting to sound cool even though you just giggle at his antics.

“wow,” you mockingly say, “what happened to the over confident man that used to brag how hot he is? is this what a compliment does to you?”

“no, it’s just, y’know, your first time being nice to me.” he explains, switching place with you so he would walk on the outside of the road, his touch on your shoulder leaving a burning feeling on it.

eyebrows drawn together, you look at his side profile, “that’s not true! i am always super nice to you!”

“nah.”

“i am!”

he pauses, eyes looking at yours before he looks ahead, “nah.”

“puta.” you say under your breath.

“i heard that.” jude slightly bumps his shoulder against yours, making you sway.

“good.” you return his gesture - though he doesn’t move at all.

soon enough you arrive at your apartment building, slowly coming to halt with jude now standing in front of you. you don’t know what to do, should you hug him as a goodbye? should you shake his hand, pat his shoulder? shit, this is harder than you thought it would be.

it seems like jude could read your mind, because before you know it, you feel his arms around your body, pulling you against him. you are too slow to react, he pulls away and smiles at you, making your knees feel weak.

what is happening? what is all of this?

“soo,” you begin, suddenly all shy around him, oh god, what is this?

“soo,” jude mirrors your stance, hands behind his back, “it isn’t that bad to walk home with me, eh?”

you hum, slightly rocking back and forth on your heels, “it was bearable.” you agree, your cheeks start to hurt from all the smiling you have done in the past few minutes.

“does that mean you would do it again?” he asks, eyes holding the stars in them, the sunset behind him making him look so pretty, it hurt.

“hm, maybe?” you tease back, taking a step back to lean against the front door, “i enjoy walking home with lorenzo as well, he is quite charming.”

jude scoffs, hands now on his hips, a signal that he is being serious, “he ain’t all that. bet i can beat him in a 100 meter sprint.”

you laugh, shrugging “who knows?”

“just you wait, i’ll show you.” he also starts to walk backwards, motioning turning around yet, “so, dinner at ours sometime?”

you nod, “sure, i’d love that.”

“great.”

the two of you silently look at each other, as if engaging in a conversation with your eyes. jude waves at you one last time before turning around to continue his way home. though he doesn’t see it, you wave back, not really sure why you do it.

you walk up to your apartment, opening the door and taking off your shoes. after washing your hands and preparing yourself something to eat you sit down onto the couch in living room, or phone at hand. you reply back to some of your friends, update your mom about your day and send her a few pictures of the places you have visited in the last week. just as you want to put your phone down to eat the last few bites of your pasta, you hear your phone go off - a new notification.

[from; Jude Bellingham]: u up?

[to; Jude Bellingham]: still don’t wanna fuck you.

[from; Jude Bellingham]: THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT

[to; Jude Bellingham]: suree

[to; Jude Bellingham]: what did you need?

[from; Jude Bellingham]: okay rude

[from; Jude Bellingham]: can’t i just start a conversation with my friend???

[from; Jude Bellingham]: yknow like friends do???

[to; Jude Bellingham]: no

[to; Jude Bellingham]: babysitting hours are over

[from; Jude Bellingham]: AHA

[from; Jude Bellingham]: so you admit that we r friends??

[to; Jude Bellingham]: good night jude

[from; Jude Bellingham]: booooo tomato tomato

you roll your eyes as you lock your phone, getting up to wash your dishes. your phone rings again, but you only get to it around twenty minutes later, being caught up in cleaning your kitchen and writing a grocery list for tomorrow.

INSTAGRAM

[@yourinsta] @judebellingham wants to follow you!

you roll your eyes, not even fighting off the smile on your lips. you don’t think twice and accept his request, following him back. you stay on his account, deciding to stalk him a little.

that’s what everyone does, right?

you look through his following, smile slowly fading as you see how many models he follows. but, you shake out of it, you shouldn’t let this get to you, you think, he is an attractive, young and successful guy, obviously he would be in touch with other women. instead of making yourself sad, you leave the app, sighing.

he is a guy, a pretty guy and single. what if he has a girlfriend? and never got the chance to tell you about it? that wouldn’t be unexpected, he is a nice person. oh, this feeling in your chest, the way it reaches down to your stomaches leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

you get up and go to the bathroom to wash your face and get bed ready.

you shouldn’t jump into any conclusions, they might be his friends! just like you are, maybe. you should just let things go, be normal and enjoy your time here in madrid. jude doesn’t owe you any explanation.

finishing your routine, you get under your bedsheets, sighing once more before deciding to relax.

everything will be just fine.

at the same time, jude lays in his bed, lights out, his phone screen illuminating his face. his fingers scroll down his following list, removing every woman that isn’t you, or one of his close friends. his cheeks already hurt from smiling the entire evening and his chest feels light.

as he finishes his task, he moves back to re-reads your guy’s chat from earlier, giggling when he reads your cute answers. oh god, how could you be so funny without even trying?

he locks his phone, putting it screen down against his chest as he looks up the ceiling, feeling impatient as he waits for the next day to arrive.

#jude bellingham #football one shot #football x reader #x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #football #jude bellingham fluff

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gunsatthaphan · 7 months ago

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the asks are piling up already lol so here are some initial thoughts on the trailers from today (in order of release, BL/GLs are marked with a 🏳️‍🌈, favorites with a 🌟):

Ossan's Love Thailand 🏳️‍🌈🌟: HELP this looks so chaotic lmao. I forgot about the show for a second and thought we were in for another EarthMix office romance kjdhgd. But yeah I have a very soft spot for Earth in chaotic slapstick roles and Mix fits in there just perfect as well. I have not seen the original and was concerned as a lot of people said it's not very good but I had a very good time with this trailer and I'm excited!!! .

Leap Day 🌟: I've been curious about this project ever since that casting call for younger versions of Dew and Pond lol and the trailer did not disappoint! The story seems interesting and I know Gun will eat in this role lol. It's going on my watchlist. .

The Heart Killers 🏳️‍🌈: **edit: not gonna lie, initially I was very disappointed by this. I was excited for the Jojo show but this seemed very random to me. I couldn't follow the story and the trailer just seemed like FK and JD were given a few guns and thrown into a dark setting which just seems like a clash of NLMG and OF. If JD weren't there, I would think this is a SandRay spinoff lol. I now know about the Shakespeare adaption which does change the way I view it a little bit but I still have concerns because I still have no idea what's going on lmao. I was hoping for something simpler and calmer for FK's new project so I really hope the show will be better than the trailer. .

Friendshit Forever: Legit thought this was a GL for the first 30 seconds of the trailer lmao but turns out it's another Beauty Newbie type of toxic friendship lol. I love the vibe though!!! the cast is amazing, Pat never fails to deliver and my girl Mook is back as well!! 🥺 I'm very much into the energy and the chemistries are on point as well. Sign me up!! .

Perfect10 Liners 🏳️‍🌈: If I took my glasses off I would think this is We Are season 2 lmao like do we really need another gay ensemble. And there's SO many others as well??? There were like 30 people on that stage lmao. New really said who doesn't have a job this year? done. I don't know what else to say, it looks very generic. I didn't expect PerthChimon to be part of an ensemble for their second bl and I sure did not expect ForceBook to get their 5th gig lmao. Good for them though. I'm still gonna take a look. .

Us 🏳️‍🌈🌟: YES I LOVE THIS 😩😭 I was hoping we would get another GL and I loooove the energy of this. It's giving all the COA vibes and I'm SO glad it's not another highschool romcom. 23.5 is nice but I'm so happy this is taking it one step further. I'm here for it. Emi was born for sapphic roles you can't change my mind lmao and her chemistry with Bonnie is on point. Simple story, big emotions and a strong cast - This is right up my alley. It's going on my list for sure. .

Hide & Sis: The title still cracks me up lmao but YES this is everything lol. The PLL/PSIHY vibes are STRONG and I love it. Snap25 never fails to deliver us badass girl gangs and I'm here for it. The toxic family trope is generic for these types of shows but if it's done right it works. And I think this will. Sign me up! .

Heart That Skips a Beat 🏳️‍🌈🌟: god don't even touch me this looks so lovely 🥹 I'm always down for a good idol x mundane romance lol and EstWilliam are a good pair for sure. It was kind of obvious that they would get something together but I'm still very excited. I didn't expect the whole LYKN group to be in it but I feel like this plot fits them very well. Plus the trailer is absolutely beautiful. Thumbs up!! .

Break Up Service: This looks meh to me, I'm surprised to see Jorin lol I didn't know she was acting. The story seems fun but the trailer did not catch my attention. It's a maybe for now. .

Revamp 🏳️‍🌈: Honestly I did not expect them to give us another trailer for this lol I was set on a different project for BounPrem. But yes this looks very expensive lmao and I'm hyped we're getting another vampire show this year. I also approve of the other cast members, especially Kay since I haven't seen him in forever lol and also Santa!! I will be tuning in! .

Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist 🏳️‍🌈🌟: *starts vibrating violently* YES I FEEL NORMAL ABOUT THIS kjshdf call me crazy but this is my highlight of this lineup lmao. I got deeply attached to MarkOhm over the last few months and this is all I could ever ask for lmao. Ohm is my little squish and my boy Mark finally got his main role 😩 I'm so proud. The plot is not the most sophisticated lol but I am SEATED. GIMME. .

Dark Dice: This did not intrigue me whatsoever. Pass. .

The Ex-Morning 🏳️‍🌈: Anyone who spent any time on the internet in the last few months knew this was bound to happen lmao. I feel torn about it, K. is not off the hook but KS were my very first bl on-screen couple and I'm feeling very nostalgic about this comeback lol. I'm fond of the trend to bring back OG couples and I'm not gonna lie, yes, it looks good. The story is interesting and the fact that they play exes,,,, art imitates life lol. I think this genre suits them and hey, maybe this will become the second Cherry Magic. Let's see how it goes. .

Scarlet Heart Thailand: The trailer gave us next to no information, I'm guessing that if you saw the original you might have a better idea of what's going on but other than pretty costumes, this didn't give me much ground to make a judgement on lol. Let's see.

conclusion: All in all this lineup seems a lot more colorful than part 1 which is very exciting!! It had the typical light-to-dark structure that the first part (and all the previous ones) had as well but it's still more diverse than I was expecting. There are some disappointments and concerns but compared to part 1, this has a lot more promising projects that I will be tuning in for - Even the lakorns. I spent a lot of time on Twitter leading up to the event, so almost everything I put on my bingo card became reality lol. I noticed some changes in the production of the trailers where it seems that they are more carefully made and edited and I found myself connecting emotionally with them a lot more than in part 1. Overall I'm very happy with this lineup and I will be putting all of these shows on my watchlist with the exception of 1 or 2, which is something I couldn't say about part 1. Thumbs up!! 🧡

Let me know your thoughts!

#gmmtv #gmmtv2024 #gmmtv 2024 #gmmtv2024 part 2 #opinions

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science-lover33 · 1 year ago

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🔬🌀Demystifying the Krebs Cycle: A Deep Dive into Cellular Respiration! 🌀🔬

Prepare for a thrilling journey into the heart of cellular metabolism! 🌟✨ Today, we unravel the intricacies of the Krebs Cycle, also known as the Citric Acid Cycle or Tricarboxylic Acid Cycle, a cornerstone of energy production in our cells. 💡🤯

The Krebs Cycle: Named after its discoverer, Sir Hans Krebs, this metabolic pathway occurs within the mitochondria and is a central hub in cellular respiration.

🔍Step 1: Acetyl-CoA Entry

Acetyl-CoA, derived from the breakdown of glucose or fatty acids, enters the cycle.

It combines with oxaloacetate to form citrate, a six-carbon compound.

🔍Step 2: Isocitrate Formation

A rearrangement converts citrate into isocitrate.

The enzyme aconitase facilitates this transformation.

🔍Step 3: Alpha-Ketoglutarate Production

Isocitrate undergoes oxidative decarboxylation, shedding a CO2 molecule and yielding alpha-ketoglutarate.

NAD+ is reduced to NADH in this step.

🔍Step 4: Succinyl-CoA Synthesis

Alpha-ketoglutarate loses CO2 and acquires a CoA group to form succinyl-CoA.

Another NAD+ is reduced to NADH.

This step is catalyzed by alpha-ketoglutarate dehydrogenase.

🔍Step 5: Succinate Formation

Succinyl-CoA releases CoA, becoming succinate.

A molecule of GTP (guanosine triphosphate) is generated as a high-energy phosphate bond.

Succinate dehydrogenase is pivotal, transferring electrons to the electron transport chain (ETC).

🔍Step 6: Fumarate Generation

Succinate is oxidized to fumarate with the help of the enzyme succinate dehydrogenase.

FADH2 (flavin adenine dinucleotide) is formed and transfers electrons to the ETC.

🔍Step 7: Malate Formation

Fumarate undergoes hydration to form malate, catalyzed by fumarase.

🔍Step 8: Regeneration of Oxaloacetate

Malate is oxidized back to oxaloacetate.

NAD+ is reduced to NADH.

Oxaloacetate is ready to initiate another round of the Krebs Cycle.

The Krebs Cycle - an intricate dance of chemical transformations fueling the cellular machinery of life. 🕺💃 Dive deeper into cellular respiration, where molecules tango to generate ATP, our cellular energy currency!

📚References for In-Depth Exploration📚

Berg, J. M., Tymoczko, J. L., & Stryer, L. (2002). Biochemistry (5th ed.). W. H. Freeman. Chapter 17.

Voet, D., Voet, J. G., & Pratt, C. W. (2008). Fundamentals of Biochemistry (3rd ed.). John Wiley & Sons. Chapter 17.

Lehninger, A. L., Nelson, D. L., & Cox, M. M. (2008). Lehninger Principles of Biochemistry (5th ed.). W. H. Freeman. Chapter 17.

#science #biology #college #education #school #student #medicine #doctors #health #healthcare #biochemistry #cell #science nerds

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tenderleavesbob · 5 months ago

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This is connected to this specific fanfiction featuring angsty UniWars. I'm unsure if there will be any others to this. Please enjoy!

The mailman dropped off the letter in a rush. He said the gates would close permanently soon and he needed to finish up to return home. He bolted away before Zelda could ask him any questions.

If the portals were closing, that meant the heroes' quest was completed. Zelda looked at the envelope in her hands with Queen Zelda written in an unfamiliar hand. The court had grown quiet. General Impa stepped closer.

Lana had arrived that morning with a strained smile and a pathetic excuse. Zelda now regretted not pushing for answers. She had just been happy to see Lana again.

Her hands were steady but her heart trembled in her breast as she opened the letter. Zelda already knew what the letter was going to say, but each word still cut through her.

Link wasn't going to come home.

The enemy was defeated. The timeline was safe again.

Link was never coming home.

"My queen," Impa whispered.

Zelda stared at the words as they danced on the page. At the bottom of the page, Mask had written his name without any flourish. An apology and a good-bye.

Link was gone.

She heard Impa bark orders to clear the room. Zelda heard quiet footsteps and then there was only Impa, Lana, and herself in the room. Zelda crumpled the letter with its damning words in her hand.

"Did you know?" she asked quietly, looking at Lana. Lana flinched and hunched on herself.

"Yes," Lana said.

"And you did nothing to stop it?" Zelda didn't cry. She wasn't sure if she could. "Despite your supposed love for him?"

Lana shrank backward. Impa tensed but didn't say anything. Everyone knew of Cia's obsession for Link, but few commented on how Lana had been a part of her. Lana's feelings remained unspoken, but Zelda never forgot and she knew that certain others didn't, either.

"The timeline had been splintered." Lana's voice shook. Zelda didn't care. It felt like she was holding a handful of blades instead of paper. "Cia's war united the multiple timelines. If I did anything to save Link, the timeline would have broken again."

Zelda stared at her. Her eyes felt painfully dry. "And there was no way to save him? All of your power, and you couldn't even try?"

Her tongue felt like another blade in her mouth. It had been years since Zelda had fought on the battlefield instead of in the court, but she still regularly practiced with her sword. She would be more than happy to practice her skills on Lana now.

Lana licked her lips. She looked at Impa, as if for support, but whatever she saw made her flinch again. "His fate was determined long ago," Lana managed. "But --"

"But?" Zelda's voice was cold. She felt cold.

She was never going to see Link again. The last time she had seen him, he had been so happy to reunite with Mask and Tune. He had been laughing. It was rare to see him laugh like that.

"I can take you to see him now."

It took little time under Zelda's and Impa's sharp commands, but it felt like it took forever to saddle up and head toward the forest. It was growing late but Zelda pushed them forward. By the time they passed through the caves and made it to the forest's edge, the sun was long gone and the moon was high in the sky.

It was a full moon. During the war, Zelda had watched Link sit with Mask during many full moons. She never asked them what they had talked about. She wished she had thought to ask.

Lana stopped them at the forest's edge. Grief twisted her face and her mouth trembled like she was near tears. Zelda didn't care. Sitting tall on her horse, Zelda glared at her. "Where is he?"

"There," Lana said. She pointed toward the trees. Zelda scowled and followed her finger.

Even in the darkness of the night with the shadows of the forest, the unicorn seemed to glow as it stepped away from the trees. It didn't move far from the protection of the forest. It seemed to look in their direction, the moonlight reflecting on its horn and pale coat.

"No," Zelda whispered. She had seen that unicorn during the war. Only once but she couldn't mistake its marks. She remembered how devastated Link had been by the sight of the unicorn, but she could never get him to talk about it. She never saw it again, and it had been pushed to the back of her head. Now she could only remember certain statues in the temple and certain stories of previous heroes.

"All of the heroes had an alternate form," Lana confirmed, tears in her voice. "The heroes of Twilight and Time were wolves. Certain magics would bring out their form. In death, it would become their spirit form."

The unicorn snorted and tossed its mane. The moonlight bleached it but Zelda remembered how it had shone golden. Just like Link's.

"This was Link's," Lana finished.

Now at last Zelda began to shake. She slid off her horse and started walking toward the unicorn. She stopped when the unicorn huffed and took a step back toward the forest.

"Link," she called and extended her hand.

Zelda didn't know what she expected. For Link to run to her? For Link to transform and stand as himself before her? For all of this to just be a horrid dream?

She didn't expect the unicorn and whinny. Zelda didn't expect Link to turn away and run back into the shadows of the forest. She gasped. and jerked forward. "Link!"

Lana moved in front of her. Tears streamed down her face and she looked old for the first time. "He's been dead for centuries, Your Majesty," Lana said. "He's gone."

Zelda stared at the forest. It was like the unicorn had never been there in the first place. Her hand was still extended uselessly in the air.

All those years ago, during the war, it had been Link's spirit standing before them, haunting Link even as he lived. A symbol of his own death. Had Link ever known? Had he suspected?

Now Zelda broke. She buried her face in her hands. She heard Impa whispering to her but she didn't care.

Link was gone. He had been doomed all this time, and Zelda couldn't do a single thing about it.

Link was lost to her.

Zelda wept.

#tl scribbles #lu warriors #lu Artemis #hw link #hw Zelda #hw Lana #hw Impa #tw: mcd #unicorn warriors #uniwars #doomed warriors

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brassharrier · 10 months ago

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Beefsteaktorial: Starting Metallics

Hey everybody! I had another opportunity to ask myself why I do things the way I do them. This is going to be more about establishing the why's of metallic paints than the how. Everybody has their own paint styles so I figure it's more productive to have the bare basics established.

Priming

Choosing your primer color is already an important step. In the case of metallic paints, you can use your underlying coat can change your final product in subtle ways. In our examples below you'll see that I went with a black primer to darken the base color I used which provided more overall contrast on the model. However, I went with a warmer tan color to help contrast the gold against the dominant silver.

First Coat

One common issue people have (myself included) is fighting with the metallic paint's coverage. Resist the urge to layer on too much paint at once. You'll want your primer to come through here. We don't want a full on opaque metal coat. Having some of your primer come through will let the pigment as well as the metal flakes do their thing. In addition, metallic paints have a nasty tendency to clump harder than basic pigments because of the extra material suspended in the medium. Don't worry, our next steps will bring the color up!

Wash

There are plenty of ways to get depth with metallics besides washes, but for today it'll be part of our process. Washes will help us get some definition by darkening our low points which will help us elevate the high points more than just a brighter coat normally would. Be sure to give everything time to dry before and after the wash. Any wet paints will flow all over the place and cause some issues with wet washes. You can use a hair dryer on low heat to speed up your washes, but be very careful not to heat one section for too long and do your best to avoid drying big pools down quickly as they'll leave very obvious pool marks. This part of the process will dull your shine, but that's okay at this stage. In our example pictures, you'll see that I used a black wash to really deepen the recesses of the silver and a red wash for the golds to warm the area and provide overall contrast from the model.

Second Coat

This can be either a layer of dry brushing or standard painting with a brighter shade. My progression was from a gunmetal silver to plain silver and brass to a light gold. For the silver in the example pictures I used a dry brush. For the gold, I used the aforementioned thinner coat of paint instead. For the silver, the dry brushing let the model keep the depth the washes provided. Be sure your brush has very little paint and build up patiently to avoid drowning out your lows. The gold was painted on in a thin and careful coat. The edges were easy enough to avoid and I didn't want to risk getting gold on that fresh silver coat.

Golds

These are the gold steps separated out from the silver steps just to make this easier to follow. These are the exact same steps with the small detail that instead of a prime coat I used that tan base coat to help the gold show up better instead of trying to fight the silver.

At the end of the day, easy metals boil down to just a few basic steps.

Choose your base color. Either use a color to help your metallic paint show up better or a color that will add depth by showing through the metal.

Don't fight your paint. You don't want perfect coverage on your first layer. Let your previous layer do the heavy lifting for you.

Wash your first coat, but expect it to dull. Just your primer or base layer, pick a color with purpose. Washes don't just darken your low points. You can use them to help separate the area from the rest of the model to provide a bit more pop.

Use a lighter color for your second layer of metallic paint and make the layer under it do the heavy lifting. This layer is there to help bring your color back up and restore it's shine. If it isn't glossy enough, but it's the right color you can just paint on a thing coat of gloss when you're done and finish sealing your model.

Thanks to everybody who stuck all the way through to the end. Hopefully I was able to help end some struggles for people or provide an alternative method of doing things. Always remember, you're better off with multiple thing coats than too think of a single coat!

#miniature painting #table top games #painting warhammer #mini painting

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flamingpen18 · 5 months ago

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Need Help

We have an issue I have been trying for 2 weeks to fix.

Dave lost my EBT card nearly 2 weeks ago when he went to Walmart. I called the store and was told it wasn't there. Dave went to the store and was told it wasn't there. He traced his steps and it is gone. He even tore apart the van. It is missing.

Here's the kicker. When we moved, I reported my COA immediately. Wouldn't you know that when I went to report my card lost, Public Assistance has still not bothered to put my new address in the system. So I contacted them again. I am still waiting for them to catch up. Meanwhile, we are out of food and no card means that on the 22nd, I can't buy any.

Delaware, you need to get your act together.

If anyone can help a little it would be greatly appreciated.

@helly-watermelonsmellinfellon

#helly-watermelonsmellinfellon #donate #help #fml #food #Meal Train #EBT #lost card

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aemonds-wifey · 2 years ago

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Summary: Another whole week had passed since you met Tom Bennetts family , Tom continued to think on what Lois said and if he should try and fight for you.

“You off out again love?” Norman asked as you picked up your deep blue cardigan from the back of the chair and wrapped it over your arms

“Out with Douglas’ boy again?” He asked

“Yeah Norm.” You flicked your hair out of your cardigan , catching your uncles hesitant expression

“What is it?”

He shook his head “Nothing love just…be careful with him.”

You frowned “why? He’s alright we’re just hanging out.”

Norman lifted his head “I’ve known the lad since he was able to walk…he’s known to have gotten into trouble a few times.”

“Harmless fun I assume, he said he gets up to no good but that’s all.”

Norman nodded “I’m not gonna tell you who you should hang around with but…be weary love. His dad is a good man …Tom just likes to get into scraps and A few run ins with the police….”

You would think it would bother you, but in truth it didn’t phase you in the slightest. You cleared your throat “Has there been any letters for me?”

Norman shook his head “No…expecting one are you?”

You fastened your cardigan over your pale grey dress that sank to your knees.

“No…but if one comes let me know…see you later I won’t be late.”

“Take care love…” he said as he watched you leave the house.

As you left the street your head span with mixed emotions, three whole weeks and no word from George . The silence from him did make your stomach momentarily flip with sickness but that feeling fled once you thought about the day with Tom. He had asked you to meet him at the park in the late afternoon, just as it was starting to get dusky, where you had your first day with him. You were intrigued.

🌳

When you got to the park you spotted Tom by the edge of the pond overlooking the pleasant view. He was smoking as he waited for you , wearing a dark green jumper and tan trousers

You inhaled sharply as you saw him, smiling as you walked to him with a slight skip in your step.

“Excuse me mate I’m lost.” You did your best Mancunian impression, Tom swirled around immediately and just smiled at your playful greeting.

“Alright love? Not bad.” He said.

“I’m good…you?”

He finished taking a drag of his cigarette before offering it to you “Last one?”

You surprised yourself by taking it with confidence you never thought you owned. He watched you with his intense blue eyes lighting up as you took a drag and blew an efficient cloud of smoke that danced near his face. You wet your lips briefly as you tossed the cigarette butt to your feet and stamped on it.

“Fast learner aren’t ya?” He chuckled

“My teacher was pretty good…” you smiled looking back at him “So where are we going to do…it’s almost dark.”

He wore a mysterious but cocky smile “Follow me love”

You both set off. You had no idea where Tom was leading you, but you didn’t care.

“Lois wants to know if you will Come for dinner on Friday. She’s off work and dad said you can bring your uncle if you want.” Tom asked as you both walked through the park

“That sounds nice…can I bring anything ?” You asked

“Just yourselves love.” Tom said smiling.

He insisted you did not have to bring anything , but you felt that you wanted to, not out of obligation, but genuine kindness- you liked the Bennett family.

You walked for about ten minutes , getting closer into the city centre and walking over a heavy railway bridge . Tom lead you round to Sackville Street building . It was huge and mighty impressive. It was one of immense beauty, fine details like delicate glass etchings of the building itself carved into the grand doorways.

Yet you had no idea why Tom had brought you here. He paused for a moment, looking around at the surroundings “Trust me?” He asked offering his hand

You did not even need to think or answer , you took his hand he lead you down the back of the main entrance , he kept walking and looking over his shoulder- as if he was checking if the coast was clear. He came to a door that was padlocked , briefly letting go of your hand he dropped to his knees and began picking the lock. You gasped “Tom what are you-“

“Shhhh. Trust me love. Keep a look out would ya?”

You twisted your head to see if you could spot anything, everything about what Tom asked was wrong signal crashing into your brain, yet your heart felt excitement at breaking the rules and living on the edge.

He unlocked the door, grabbing your hand once again and pulling you inside the building. Closing the door behind him you were in what seemed a storage room, with an intricate spiral staircase going to the top.

“Up you go.” He said letting you go up before him.

As you climbed to the top you came into a doomed rooftop room, telescopes were scattered around, Tom pulled on a lever and the dome slides opened up like a segmented orange which allowed the positioned telescopes to penetrate the night sky. Once the night sky was clear above you, a gasp escaped your mouth as you could see how perfectly Manchester looked from this view. The blend of the city meeting the elements of nature blended into one metropolitan wonder was a sight to behold .

You stood closer looking out the view, admiring what you could see - you turned around to see Tom watching you , smiling as you were impressed with this delightful surprise.

“Tom it’s beautiful . Wow you can see so much.!” You said returning to look at the city skyline. He stood close behind you, his jaw hovering over your shoulder . He began pointing out places of interest , the cinema you had visited, the parks you had strolled through and the lake in the distance “Fancy going there tomorrow? There’s a boathouse nobody uses anymore I want to show you…” he suggested

You smiled “sounds perfect. Is it far?”

He shook his head “bout 20 mins walk from my house. Can’t miss it like.”

You nodded “I’m game.”

He inhaled happily and the breath that caught your ear lobe sent a shiver to your spine, him being this close was torture .

“Nice way to spend an evening eh?” He asked.

You nodded “it’s lovely…really.”

He looked down at you, your skin felt flush with his eyes trained on you.

“What is it?” He asked

You shook your head “Nothing Tom…I like that we are here. You’ve made this trip to Manchester…quite amazing .”

His long fingers ghosted over your shoulder and whispered “but…?”

You wanted to confess that you weren’t able to sleep at night because of him, how you struggled to keep your heart steady in his presence- or how you wanted to kiss him right that moment. You hesitated as you turned your face slightly and smiled flatly

“I never got to..go dancing …”

Tom smirked playfully and held his hand out in front of you, you took it. Tom swirled you round and pulled you in against him slowly. “I can’t promise I won’t step on your toes love but…”

His other hand palming your lower back, gently caressing it as you popped your free hand into his firm shoulder. He swayed you slowly, even though there was no music you both had a rhythm that made you smile.

“You dance well Mr Bennett.” You said looking up at his soft face.

“Doing alright I suppose.” He answered.

In a moment as your eyes met you noticed he blinked almost nervously , the same look you had seen yourself in the reflection of his eyes. To see Tom momentarily lack confidence exposed a whole side to him you wanted to know better, he seemed nervous.

You were lost in his eyes, and he was unsure what to say. His fingers against your back rubbed your skin gently, before he moved it up your back.

You felt his hand move past your earlobe ,

His fingers ghosted your jaw , the near brush of the touch drive you wild with longing. You couldn’t help but lean your head against his bent fingers, they rubbed your skin so softly. You were in a trance , Tom smiled again and leaned closer , your glanced at his lips that were ever so inviting

“Tom…” you took his hand his hand into yours, seeing his knuckles and without breaking eye contact you brought his lightly bruised knuckle to your lips and softly kissed them. His eyes only widened with lust as he watched your lips leave his hand , his hands then moved to cup your chin and before you could say anything Toms lips met with yours. He sensually moved his lips , you let a moan escape your mouth into his as his thumb gently rubbed the skin on your jaw.

You felt at bliss in this moment, your fingers lacing with Toms as he kissed you again you were sure you could faint.

He stopped and looked at you as your own fingers clasped between the fabric of his jumper , both of you smiling in unison as your lips broke apart for a moment.

“You okay?” He whispered

You locked eyes with him and felt a shy smile grow on your lips , he mirrored it with a tint of curiosity “what is it?”

No trace of conflict danced in your head as you answered him with a brief kiss , he clasped his hand over yours that sat on his chest. His hands fell to your shoulders and looked at you seriously “Was…was that your first kiss?”

You nervously bit your lip , your inability to speak answered his question. He suddenly cupped your face again and uttered “Christ.” His soft lips met yours again deepening it letting your mouth fall open and feeling his tongue explore the corner of your mouth, you could taste the cigarette tones mixed with his musky aroma gave you a feeling of excitement that felt like heat between your legs.

Your hand broke from his chest and went to his back, pulling him against you - he continued to kiss you, stealing the gasps between your bodies as his hands held onto your waist.

You both stopped to catch your breaths , he looked down into your eyes and you both felt reality hit you. You both didn’t speak…just looked at each other in admiration , and yet a glint of fear was evident in him. He took your hands into his

“I don’t…” he began

You held your breath .

“I don’t want to say bye to you…I know you have what’s his name at home but-“

“Tom please…” you started

“No I just…” he blinked. You could see he was struggling to find the words to express himself. The lump in your throat felt huge as you could see the cogs trying to click behind his eyes.

You gently squeezed his hands that were around yours and kissed him sweetly before getting on your top toes and kissing his nose “I still have 2 weeks here Mr Bennett…”

“Only two weeks love…” he said.

He had a point, two weeks left in Manchester then it was back to Oxford to reality and George…but none of that excited you anymore.

“Tomorrow…let’s talk hmm?” You said “we have all day.”

Tom lifted his head back slightly, smiling at the life line you had thrown him. George may have come across as intelligent , worldly as had a class of sophistication but Tom was another entity that had awaken something in you. Tom had spent every opportunity he could with you, He had shown you a different side to life that George never could understand . Tom made you feel alive and in the moment, it may have only been 2 weeks but it felt like an age…and you wanted to make an effort to meet Tom in the middle.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard voices from below echo up the rested staircase “Up here I think!” A gruff voice broke out.

You looked worried for a moment , Tom pointed at the fire exit that you spotted by the edge. “Go. “ he said before kissing you quickly and grinning that devilish smile “tomorrow midday at the boat house on the lake.” He said quietly

“How are you going get away?” You said as you gripped the ladder.

He winked “I’ll think of something ..go.”

You watched him as he headed to down the stairs, you heard the gruff voice from below “Oi! Stop!” Followed by the quickened footsteps and the sound of them running away.

You couldn’t see where Tom went but by the silence you assumed he got away. You climbed down the fire exit, to your surprise no one caught up with you but you managed to walk away with no indication of being followed. You looked around for Tom, no sign of him. It was fully dark now, you found your way home ,

Quietly sneaking in as it was late, you headed up to your room and slowly fell onto the bed. Your fingers running over your stomach and inhaling deeply, replaying how gently Tom kissed you over and over in your head . You smiled as you turned on your side, excited by the prospect of what tomorrow would bring you and Tom. Once again, you had a sleepless night.

Chapter 6

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#ewan mitchell #tom bennett x you #world on fire #tom bennett x reader #fic #fiction story #world war two #tom Bennett

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