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imaginespazzi · 3 months ago

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Part 4: Warning Bells

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)

(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)

Words: 6.1K

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team.

It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face.

The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up.

That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.

“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”

“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up.

“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”

“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”

Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”

“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back.

Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again.

Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too.

She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her.

“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”

“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”

“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes.

“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”

“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.

“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”

“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”

Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”

“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.

“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.

“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”

And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.

It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again.

“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs.

It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”

Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”

And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen,

“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”

Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend.

“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”

“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.

“Welcome home.”

***

Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence.

“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”

“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond.

“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way.

“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening.

“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously.

“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”

“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly.

“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”

“Oh you absolutely are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”

They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”

“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana.

“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.

Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath.

“Hey-”

Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that.

“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”

“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”

“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately.

“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips.

The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?”

“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.

She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is.

“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”

“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”

“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours.

“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”

“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look.

“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends.

“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”

“I’m not pay-”

“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”

“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”

Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”

The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage.

“You coming Azzi?”

“Mama, are you coming?”

I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them.

“Of course I’m coming.”

***

Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her.

“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”

Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger.

“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”

“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said.

“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly.

Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”

“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”

The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again.

“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly.

She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore.

Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate.

“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple.

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”

“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did.

“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her.

“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh.

“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”

“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly.

“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t you dare-”

“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”

“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender.

“You started it.”

“Yeah Mama, you started it.”

“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever.

“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist.

“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.

“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel.

Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows.

“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

***

Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames.

So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”

“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother.

“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her.

Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”

Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”

“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”

Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them.

“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently.

“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”

The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”

Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”

“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands.

“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch.

“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”

“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”

“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”

***

Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be. That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort.

Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas.

“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”

It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them.

Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”

And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt.

“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults.

Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”

“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side.

“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other.

“Perfect.”

And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years.

***

Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe.

The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this.

“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”

“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”

“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige.

“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"

Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”

“Steph-”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”

Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”

“Azzi-”

“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes.

“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay.

“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”

“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake.

“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly.

“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”

“Az-”

“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”

Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”

“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”

“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”

Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”

“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away.

It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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lizdive · 4 months ago

Note

Er father figure Ratio with child reader that is like huohuo! Idk what else to explain but i hope ya get it😞 (PLEASE PLATONIC)

You got it anon 🫡 thank you for requesting and if you’re unsatisfied just tell me !! <33

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a child ,, reader is based off of "huohuo" from honkai star rail (duh) ,, platonic relationships ,, i’m not sure if that blue flame thing is called phase flame but that what i’ll call it ,, mister tail exists here for reader ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Despite having the ability to exorcise spirits, the phase flame absolutely terrified you as you ran through the halls of herta’s space station, the living thing of blue flames rushing after you as Mr. Tail yelled at you to do something — anything.

⭑ You ended up bumping into VERITAS, falling back onto your butt. The professor was obviously less than pleased as he looked down at you, but he blinked once he noticed you didn’t seem to be a researcher or anything. He, of course, spotted the phase flame rushing after you at full speed and realized what was happening.

⭑ Even after he contained the creature you still kept close to him as if he was your human shield.

⭑ You did apologize, of course, and introduce yourself. VERITAS wasn’t too harsh on you since you were still only a child and children weren’t really the brightest stars naturally so he knew you wouldn’t be Einstein smart.

⭑ VERITAS tried to get you to leave him alone multiple times but somehow you both end up bumping into each other again so he’s begrudgingly accepted the fact that you are stuck with him.

⭑ He’s intrigued by Mr. Tail. When you tell him the story and how you could’ve been harmed if any other approach was taken, he does feel a bit bad. But also a bit unamused because of your past dumbness to interact with a literal FLAME.

⭑ Gets along with Mr. Tail but also doesn’t?? They have their moments. Whenever you’re in lectures with him, seated in the corner just doing your thing whether it be creating talismans or doing some activities and assignments he’s given you, Mr. Tail will sometimes be up there with VERITAS and his students cry x10 more because they can both be pretty mean..

⭑ VERITAS doesn’t blame you for being scared of spirits and other things, but he’s also kind of confused at the lengths of your fear because it’s kind of your job / occupation to get rid of them.

⭑ If you tell him you want to resign but you’re too scared, he’ll encourage you and help you build the confidence to quit. However if he noticed it’s affecting your health negatively (ex: heart health because of the constant scares) he will force you to quit. Job be damned, especially because you’re still very young.

⭑ If it’s because of money or something, he has enough and more to spend on the two (three?) of you.

⭑ People making fun of you? Not anymore. Whenever VERITAS hears someone call you 'the possessed demoness' he gets annoyed. Yes, Mr. Tail possess you sometimes however it’s only to keep you safe. He even encourages Mr. Tail to do so to keep you dafe during those situations because he knows how petrified you get.

⭑ He doesn’t hide his distain for the nickname and any other mean names people may call you. He will literally give a physical reaction with his expression and tell them to hold their tongue and learn some respect.

⭑ Knowing how timid, shy, and just sensitive overall you can be, he’ll try to tone down his behavior for you so you don’t get scared of him. That’s the last thing he wants — he doesn’t want it at all, actually.

⭑ VERITAS will help you build up your courage if you wish. He… isn’t a big fan of Mr. Tail’s methods but he also knows that for some they’re effective. Exposure isn’t necessarily bad but he thinks you should start off slow with smaller things.

⭑ You’ll probably know every kind of spirit there is to know about because of VERITAS and how to deal with them. Not even just spirits, bro will teach you about other creatures, too.

⭑ And at the end of the day, scared or brave, VERITAS doesn’t mind if you hide behind him and let him take care of you and the situation,,

#🪽 ☆ LIZDIVE #ᡣ𐭩 — ROBIN’S WRITING !!#ᡣ𐭩 — ROBIN’S STARS !!#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Dr ratio hsr #dr ratio honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader

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ventismacchiato · 2 years ago

Text

32 behind the lens — sad quotes bot !

scaramouche x g!n reader

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Almost a week has passed and you haven’t spoken a single word to Kuni in that time. You’ve been rather busy doing streams with your camera on but pretending to be okay with millions of your fans watching was beginning to look difficult. You received a few confused texts from Jean when she saw your reveal, but she didn’t question you further than that.

Class became burdensome as you could only stare longingly at the back of Kuni’s head. He arrived right on time and left without bidding your farewell. He never even turned his head in your direction. He wasn’t being outwardly mean but you’d rather have him yell at you then pretend you didn’t exist.

Childe had texted you that morning updating you on Kuni. He was in the same boat as you, ignoring his meals and plunging all his energy into work.

You follow him out of class that day.

It took you a while to find him, his monotone outfit blending in with every other student. But you eventually caught up and grabbed ahold of his backpack, causing him to stumble before turning back. He flinches at the sight of you.

“Hey,” you greet, “Can we talk?”

He reaches out to remove your hand from his backpack and shakes his head, about to turn around before you speak up once more. Desperate.

“Please?”

Kuni stares past you for a few seconds, an unreadable expression adorning his face.

“Didn’t I ask you to leave me alone?” he eventually says, his voice lacking any warmth it once held before. How could the same lips uttering such cruel words be the same ones that were on you skin mere days ago? Your stomach was sinking.

“Yes,” you lamely answer. It felt like you were being scolded like a child, “I just thought I’d check on you.” Screw Childe for giving you false hope.

“I don’t need you to check on me,” he spits, “I don’t need you.”

Now you were the one who flinched.

“You don’t mean that,” you eventually say as students mill past.

Scara opens his mouth to say something else but quickly closes his lips shut.

“I said give me time so I don’t say something I regret,” he sighs, “Bye,” he mutters and shoves past you.

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

typo in slide 1: toasting a poptart*

childe changed scaras wallpaper to nayeon to cheer him up :3

author’s notes — if you rmbr when i accidentally posted this no u don’t (gaslighting)

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @kcbenis @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]

#behind the lens smau #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche smau

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seresinhangmanjake · 9 months ago

Text

The One I Want: Part 14

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, emotional stuff and vulnerability, fluff, angst, typos for sure, inaccurate navy stuff

Words: 2547

The One I Want Masterlist

You’re lying on the bed, facing away from the door when Jake returns to the room. He says nothing as he slips under the covers and wraps his arm around your waist, scooting himself close so your back is to his chest. He’s gentle—cautious in his movements—and you know he thinks you’re still asleep.

His hand slides over the curve of your stomach and under your t-shirt, caressing soft skin as if intending to savor the feel of you, to burn into his mind what it’s like to have you in his arms. You do the same. You want to remember being completely engulfed by him.

He kisses your bare shoulder.

“Did Millie leave?” you ask.

Jake's body stiffens behind you like the life has been sucked out of him. The expanding of his chest from his inhales and exhales has paused. His fingers don’t so much as twitch against your stomach.

He lightly clears his throat and his breath flutters the wispy hairs by your ear. “Did…did you hear us?”

“A little,” you admit, but not prepared to delve into the core of what you’d heard, you ask a safer question. “How is she this morning?”

“She’s ok.”

Jake removes his hand from your shirt to tuck those wayward hairs behind your ear, then he trails his hand back down your body. The brush of his fingertips from your neck to your shoulder and arm sprouts gooseflesh that he smoothes in some special spots by rubbing his thumb in small circles.

Pulling you as close as your bodies will allow, Jake continues. “I asked her over to talk while Rooster went to get something for her on base. He just picked her back up.”

“Base? What would he have for her there?” Another safe question. You like the safe questions much more than the ones awaiting you.

Jake’s chuckle is mostly a puff of air through his nose. “There’s been a ring in his locker for a month,” he tells you. “He’s marrying her. Assuming she says yes, that is.”

You almost snort. Millie will say yes before Rooster has the entire ask out of his mouth. Carried by the ocean, her squeal will echo across every inch of the town, and you can imagine the entire event as if right by their side.

She will throw herself into his arms, which will knock him onto his back. He will chuckle as he ignores the ache that the fall inflicts on his joints because holding her is more important. She will kiss him. He won’t let her stop. The ring will be neglected for many hours, but eventually, it will make its way onto her finger. And that is exactly what you want for the couple who proved to you a love so powerful and fulfilling exists.

“She will,” you say.

“Yea…” Jake agrees, “She will.”

The corners of your lips tick upward in a hint of a smile, but after a handful of seconds, the smile falls. Not because of Millie and Rooster—that can be said with every ounce of honesty in your heart. But in your attempt to continue appreciating your friends’ future happiness, you find a sudden overwhelming selfishness. You become incapable of dedicating your thoughts to anything other than the fact that what you feel right now—this moment where every bit of Jake’s body and presence and soul encompasses you—is about to be ripped right out of your hands.

You don’t want to be a brat. You don’t want to cross your arms, stick up your nose, and stomp your foot in defiance like a child. But, fuck, you just got him. You just got him and it’s not fair. Nothing about Jake leaving speaks to the promise of any higher power’s ability to balance out the pain you’ve experienced with the pleasure and joy that has found you over the past few months. You are about to stop receiving what you’ve come to accept you deserve after the hell that was your life before Jake and the world he introduced.

Had what you heard been said differently, you might not feel this strongly about him leaving. Were Jake and Millie’s words lighter, you might be able to believe that this separation will not last, that Jake will come home, and what is happening between you and him will simply pause for a couple of months before it resumes. But their tone suggested an unbearable alternative.

You flip over so you can look him in the eyes and instantly see that he’s feeling what you feel. You don’t have to tiptoe around the deployment now. He knows you heard enough.

“Will you tell me about it?” you ask.

“What do you want to know?”

Everything, you don’t say. Every detail, every move, every risk, every likelihood, every expectation you’re allowed to have. You want to know where he will be and when; when he will go and return. You think the more you know, the less you will worry. But Jake can’t give you that much. So you don’t ask for it.

Instead, you say, “Are you scared?” because maybe if he’s not scared, then you shouldn’t be, either.

“You know me, beautiful. I'm the best,” he says, but you can hear the uncertainty that weakens his voice. He doesn’t answer your question like you want him to. “But it's…different. We've been training hard for months. They've done everything they can to prepare us.”

“Is it enough?”

“It’s as much as they could do.”

You blink away the threat of tears and sniff away the tingling in your nose, but it’s hard to do as you try to accept that information. As much as they could do is not enough for you.

“You’re not good at being reassuring,” you inform him.

Jake sighs into a sad smile. His eyes briefly drift, but when he locks your gazes again, a rich, thick vulnerability fills the space between you. “In this case, I don’t know how,” he says. “I’ve never had to explain this to someone I care about the way I care about you.”

You pause mid-breath and there’s a swelling to your throat that seems to squeeze the rest of that breath right out of you. Once again, you’re selfish, not considering what all of this means for Jake. He’s the one leaving his home, risking his life, and with everything you’ve gathered from Millie’s words and his own, nothing about this will be simple or can compare to what they’ve faced in quite some time.

“It’s…different,” he told you; “...especially this time,” Millie had said.

This deployment—this mission—will be no in-and-out quick trip, no there-and-back, no ‘I’ll be home for dinner, honey’ for the Daggers. ‘The best of the best’ might not hold as much weight this time, and quelling your worries should not be occupying space on Jake’s plate.

“Normally, I only have to think about myself and my team,” he continues, falling onto his back and layering his hands over his abdomen to stare at the ceiling. “Now I think about you. I’m doing the last thing I wanted to do—leaving you here—and yet, when I go, you’re still coming with me. You’re going to be on that ship, in my bunk, in my jet…”

Lifting onto your forearms, you inch closer until your face is surely within his peripherals. His eyes meet yours and one of those layered hands reaches to cup your cheek. Fingers slide through your hair to the ends of the strands and he gathers a few between his thumb and index finger. They carefully twist the section of hair back and forth, then he curls it around his finger. Another part of you he’s hoping to permanently remember.

“You’ll be all around me at all times, beautiful,” he says. “And that, I’m unprepared for.”

While sweet in delivery, you realize what he’s telling you are words not coming from a man happy to have someone in his heart, but from a man tormented. It’s why his smile isn’t full and his eyes contain only a fraction of their common light. Jake is a man unable to reassure you of anything because with you came change, and change is a wrench in what is otherwise a consistently stable practice in his life and career.

“Unprepared for…” leaves your mouth slowly as you finish processing what that really means. “As in, I’ll be a distraction.”

His hand drops, back to layering over the other. His stare returns to the ceiling. “I’m good at my job.”

“I know that, but are you going to be able to focus if I am in your head all the time?” When he doesn’t answer, you feel your nerves start to wiggle under your skin, blood rushing at an unnatural pace. “Don’t think about me when you’re there.”

His soft smile does nothing but throw the rest of your body into panic. “I like thinking about you.”

“I don’t care if you like thinking about me. I care about you coming home.”

Pushing the covers off your body, you stand, evading Jake’s effort to pull you back to his side. You bite down on your nail hard enough for it to give way under the pressure.

He’s sitting up, feet to the ground when you turn to face him, and you take a few steps from the bed, hoping he won’t follow so the fear that pulses around you doesn’t infect him.

“Beautiful…” he sighs with an energy that irritates you. While tinted with melancholy, it’s too calm and gentle and plush, like he has all the time in the world to lay back and ponder the future when that could very well be untrue.

You rip your nail from the trap of your teeth. “Do not think about me if you can’t do what you need to do at the same time.”

“I can guarantee you’ll be in my head no matter what, so if we’re making demands, that one’s off the table.”

“It shouldn’t be if it means you’ll spend all of your time worrying about me!” you shout. “Tell me that’s not going to happen!”

Jake gives you a long look. Then his head falls forward and he runs his hand down his face. “I’m doing my best to keep my head where it needs to be.”

“And you’re failing?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he tells you, meeting your gaze. “It’ll be ok.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Jake stands then, sharp in the movement, and you take another step back. “What do you want me to do, beautiful?” he just short of snaps. His hand presses into his chest. “I have to leave you behind for months. I’m leaving you to loneliness and a silent apartment, to Brit, for fuck’s sake. I’m leaving you and I’m terrified that as time goes on you’ll start to question things. Like whether or not you’re a burden or a waste of space. Like whether or not you’re loved. And–”

“You’re afraid I won't be here when you come back.”

His shoulders release their tension. “Can you blame me?”

No, you think; you can’t. It has not been long enough to lock that security into place, and it wouldn’t be right to shame him for lacking full confidence. You know Jake has faith in you. You know it’s not your ability to wait for him he questions, but instead, how healed you are to not be influenced to disappear from his life if he’s not there to remind you why you matter.

While you’ve done your best to prove your commitment, your best is also new for you. Only recently have you been able to promise yourself that you’re making the right decisions for your happiness, and that one of those decisions is Jake. To expect him to be further along than you is unfair. He may be your hero, but he’s not invincible. He’s not immune to his thoughts running away with him any more than you once were. So no, you can’t blame him. Not for this.

You close the distance between you, grabbing his hands with yours to weave fingers. “Jake, I can’t be the thing that takes up so much of your mental energy you have none left to protect yourself. If something happens to you…” You shake your head, not willing to finish the thought. “Use me in a different way. Instead of worrying, turn me into the reason you come home because of everything we can have when this is over.”

He takes a moment to let the suggestion sink in, and you let him, because you need him to understand the depth of what you are offering. Not only are you swearing to stay, but you’re beginning to paint the picture of the future he has been unsure exists. It’s the future you want, but he must meet you halfway. You’ll be here for him as long as he does everything within his power to return home for you.

“I'm going to be here, Jake,” you say, unweaving fingers to wrap your arms around his neck. “So please don't let something like that distract you. Keep your focus on what you have to do and then come back to me.”

—

Three weeks pass in a flash. Three weeks full of sex and kisses and laughter and a million conversations about everything you plan to do when you’re together again. You don’t entertain other possibilities.

Neither do you see your friends. Millie called to shriek over the new ring on her finger, but that was it. Each pilot has people of their own to share their time with, so they don’t waste a second of it. They hold on to every precious moment down to the last kiss and hug and touch of hands before time is up and they have to walk away to board a ship.

Though she tries not to, Millie cries new tears to replace the ones Rooster kissed away. You keep yours locked inside so Jake doesn’t worry as he kisses you goodbye. The two join the rest of their team, glancing over their shoulders multiple times to get final looks at you and Millie before they’re gone.

Your friend doesn’t watch them leave. She can’t is what she tells you. It’s too hard for her to see them disappear. But she waits for you in Rooster’s truck as you stay behind a little longer.

Even though Jake is not within sight, you know he’s there, and so you keep your eyes on the ship while it begins to depart. Your gaze is unwavering until your phone begins to ring in your pocket.

Your brow furrows in confusion. With the exception of one, everyone you know is on that ship and you’re sure they aren’t allowed to have phones, but you answer without a second thought.

“Jake?”

“I love you,” he says. “It’s important to me that you know that.”

You can’t breathe. Your eyes dart back to the ship, expecting to see him, but it’s too far gone and you can only make out silhouettes. “Jake–”

“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

And then he hangs up.

You dial back but it goes to voicemail. As do your next five attempts.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @alwaysclassyeagle

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin x plus size!reader

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taissaswifelowkey · 18 days ago

Text

dreaming

bartender afab reader and anora

it’s difficult to love someone and not being the right person for the other. you’re sure that’s how ani feels or would feel about you. but how are you so sure? can you be so sure?

let’s pretend ivan doesn’t exist here 😜🔥🔥

a/n: i cannot wait anymore and anora is coming out in six days so here’s a drabble. also if you noticed, the title is named after dreaming by blondie which was used in the trailer :) (i’m sorry, im really a fan of movies and their details) proofread but there might be typos, leave feedback if you have any and enjoy reading!!

warnings: uhhh if you know what the movie is about then you know it’s about ani’s job like everyone else in her place of work but nothing is explicitly mentioned. UMMM KISSINGGG?? mentions of legal drinking, swearing, a touch sad, gay yearning but it ends on a really hopeful note, i promise! that’s it really. and self indulgence you already knowww probably an out of character anora, i haven’t seen the movie as yet but that will be corrected soon once it releases in cinemas here ‼️‼️

it starts below the cut 🤠

Loud music was blasting through the speakers. You can still hear the faint noises of laughter and chuckles, slightly distracting you as you were only looking for the laughter of one person.

You swear it’s the only thing you’re looking forward to everytime you tend the bar. Not for the additional tips offered by clients who would pretend to act all innocent and have no idea of what they’re doing. But for her jokes, her gentle smile and her laugh that always sends a strange swirl in your abdomen. For her warm touch whenever you felt like you could handle it. It’s insane how she sends you a visceral yet pleasant shiver throughout your entire body whenever she’d rest her head on your shoulder. Her floral, white musk scent would make you completely feel dizzy. You were once on the rooftop of your tiny flat when it first happened. Ani’s hands were in yours the entire time while you talked and she wouldn’t let go. Maybe the alcohol helped you ignore how much your heart struggled to regain its normal rhythm. And her fragrance didn’t really help your situation. That’s when you knew you were entirely fucked.

You fell for people before. But not for your friends. Especially not your close friends. She was the good thing you had in life among others. Losing her was not something you’d even want to imagine, the thought making you upset. Besides, thinking about different probabilities about her catching on to your crush would always circle back to the same answer. She might be straight and this will leave an awkward gap between your friendship and you won’t be as close anymore, will look back at all the interactions you had before and paint you as a creep. Or she might not be but it will still leave an awkward taint in your relationship. Either way you needed to get over this and get over it quickly.

Blinking back your thoughts as you found yourself spiralling again, you wiped the counter with a cloth, a drunk client haven spilled drinks before while having two girls wrapped around him. You were slightly grateful for your daydreams' interruption. Letting your mind roam about Ani was like a double edged sword.

As you cleaned the surface, a voice catches your attention.

“Finally, I get to have some time for you.”

Your eyebrows rose slightly and you were about to answer the person talking to you when you noticed her playful smile and her eyes.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It’s also insane how your brain manifests its thoughts and wonderings into reality, her presence seeming to have a powerful hold on you.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re like…drunk. Are you? Look, I wouldn’t tell anyone but doing this is pretty risky. Definitely don’t do it without me next time, though.”

Get yourself together.

“It’s just one of those days where I had to stay up cramming for a test and got three hours of sleep.”

“Oh and I thought those days were over and you’d take your sleep seriously. What happened to you putting aside caffeine and focusing on a good sleep schedule?”

“Left behind me. But it worked for a week in my defence.”

You try to laugh but the highlighter near her eyes, her perfectly applied eyeliner and her lipstick makes all your cells come alive. She’s so damn pretty.

With a disapproving look, she reaches to fix your collar.

“Do I have to babysit you or something? College is already hard as it is. I don’t need you stumbling around me.”

You already do that.

“I wouldn’t mind having an overseer.”

With a wink, you take care of an order for a client approaching the bar, missing her slight chuckle at your tease. It’s a good thing she’s not a mind reader, your brain overplaying the sentence“why the fuck would you that out loud?”

The customer follows her gaze over you but doesn’t pay any mind, sidling over to her.

“Hey…I have enough for two drinks. Or three, if you’d like.”

You visibly hurl at the sight. That was worse than what you said.

Taking a deep breath and focusing on cleaning an already clean glass, you keep a subtle glance on him. His aftershave wafts in the air and leaves an unpleasant overwhelming scent.

You hate how he looks clean, fresh. The way he has a perfect jawline. How his smooth, deep voice, almost makes you wish you could have the same traits as him.

This was getting ridiculous. You’re getting ridiculous.

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you sigh at the relief of having customers flood the counter. A bachelor’s party. You just go on autopilot, listen to their orders and ignore their vague offensive teenage boy adjacent behaviour.

Ani’s focused on the charming man. At least, she was trying too. Sure, he was funny and looked like a formula one pilot…but was also incredibly bland. For the past thirty minutes it’s been him, him, him. She knows his name but he has no idea about hers, he didn’t even ask any questions.

While he goaded about having a mansion in The Hamptons or who knows where, she trailed back her eyes to you. You felt different. Your overall senses felt different. She didn’t felt the calm radiating energy balancing her bright one anymore. And she wasn’t joking when she asked you if you were off. For the past few weeks you looked downright exhausted. She believes that it’s because of your midterms, but she knows there’s something more to it. You have this sort of signal whenever you’d close yourself off from people. You’d get really silent, almost out of space. Then you would twist the rings you have on your fingers, one of then being a gift she got for you.

Then there were your texts. You weren’t dry or simply answering her texts for the purpose of replying but you would always be late to do so. She knows you’re busy with college and whatnot, but she also knew you well. You were hiding something from her. The dilemma she had to deal with was whether to confront you because you being somewhat closed off felt like losing you. Or should she wait until you talk to her?

Will you?

⋆｡°✩

The guy who talked her ear off didn’t even bother paying for her drinks, just his. Her best friend is acting weird. And on top of that she has a show in ten minutes. She can’t operate with a negative state of mind. And none of what was happening was of help.

She understands you and knows you need your own pace when it comes to handling certain things. But what exactly are you handling? And why were you looking like a kicked puppy but now you’re chatting and chuckling with your coworker. That or you were forcing yourself. Yeah, something is wrong. And she’s tired of this.

Completely ignoring the conversation you’re having, which by the way, must be uninteresting and forced because she knows you only really laugh those warm laugh of yours with hers, she asks if you can soon talk.

She’s still respectful of your working hours. When she could just drag you outside and beg you to tell her what is going on with you.

“My shift is over in five minutes, Ani—”

“I can take over from here. You’ve been practically hosting the patrons on me.”

Your coworker, smiles at you and moves to your position. Good.

And you’re so tired and confused you don’t even process how Ani marches over the bar, gently takes your hand and smiles at the man before leading you through the crowded room of sweating bodies until you reach a private, quieter area.

She steps in the room and mentions for you to do the same. You’re honestly surprised how you didn’t manage to faint.

“I need to know what’s your problem.”

Your eyebrows furrow at her tone, knowing she usually takes it with annoying clients or rude people who feel the need to make comments.

“What problem?”

“With me.”

She won’t waste anytime. Whatever the fuck is happening between you two has to end.

You feel your knees go wobbly so you just sit, trying to calm down your hammering heart.

“I…I have no…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You blurt out in one go, as if taking your time to answer the question might reduce the chance of her picking up on how out of breath you are.

She chuckles dryly, raking her hands through her hair, pacing the room.

Don’t yell. This is not the approach to take here.

“Then why the fuck are you so distant with me?”

She couldn’t control the raised volume of her voice. She quickly regretted it, seeing how you slightly jerked up.

The dim lighting concealed how your eyes were getting bleary and hid her face flushed with anger. Or sadness. Maybe a bit of both. The room felt so stuffy. You looked down at your shoes, finding the colours to be so interesting.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She whispered, barely even audible, like a ghostly breath. You’re sure you wouldn’t have heard her if it weren’t for the utter silence in the room.

And you felt bad. Plain miserable. But hiding the truth was a way to protect the both of you, right? What would she do if she found out that you were crushing, no, fucking fell in love with her and carried on like nothing ever happened—

“Right. I have my answer then. Look, I don’t know what I did wrong but…I want you to know I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I’ll try to be better from now on and so hope that I’m deserving enough of a second chance.”

She sniffs, trying to keep her breathing steady. She couldn’t lose you. Wouldn’t lose you. You’re the best thing in her life. And she hates herself for pushing you away.

She gives you another mental chance at speaking up before moving to leave.

And you let her.

Wiping the few tears she has, she swiftly leaves the room. And when you’re the only one left, you let the tears flow through your face, wanting nothing but to be honest with her, tell her how you feel, relieve yourself from the feeling of carrying what is similar to that of a burden.

Loving her doesn’t feel like one, though. It feels freeing. Weirdly enough it’s like you share the same oxygen, and a part of her cut is sure enough for you to choke.

You look down at the ring she got you from a thrift store, saying that it reminded her of you. Silver. With star design engravings.

“I don’t know why but being with you feels like I’m dreaming.”

Fighting back your nausea, you trace your fingers over the stars, remembering how she held your fingers in hers, linking them together.

You had to tell her the truth. You had to risk telling the truth. She’s deserving of it. And whatever outcome it has, not that you’re thinking of any positive ones, it will be a great relief. Even if it’s painful.

⋆｡°✩

Allowing yourself a minute to take deep breaths and gather your wordings, you slowly left the room, trudging to wait for Ani until she completes her show.

You wait for her near her trailer room, your legs still feeling weak, and slide down the door. Even though you willed your heart to calm down, you still feel this immense pressure on your chest, a slight headache and fatigue from all the overwhelming sensations. You close your eyes and try to rest.

It must not have been that long, because someone is lightly, gently shaking your shoulder. You lift your head from your crossed arms, blinking blearily at the presence of people and lights before your tired gaze lands on her.

Her warm hands are on your cheeks and you feel like you could cry anytime now, even in front of her friends who looks at you like you’re on the verge of a breakdown.

With a silent look, she asks them to leave you, one of them muttering “call me if you need anything.”

She should hate you. She doesn’t even know if she does. But you’re not exactly one of her most favourite people anymore.

That doesn’t mean that seeing you like this makes her feel a sense of victory. If anything it just adds to the shitty mess of emotions she has when it comes to you.

“Ani…”

You softly whispered, trying to get up but she presses down on your shoulders. She picks up bottle of water on the ground and opens it for you.

“Drink.”

Your eyes are puffy and red, your face completely heated. Whatever it is that is happening with you…she wants to help. If you’d let her. If only you’d let her.

Although the water did make you a little clearheaded, you still needed to a bit of space before the same thing happens again.

“Ani, I…this…”

Your head leans back at the door, your eyes closed. She’s never seen you like this. This vulnerable and lost.

She’s grateful that you’re feeling safe…or felt safe enough to be that way around her. If this is the last chance you two have of mending this weird relationship.

“Let’s go outside.”

“But…don’t you have anyone to see after?”

With a wry smile, she stands up and offers you her hand.

“My shift ended as soon as my friends told me you were passed out. Let me get our jackets, okay?”

Right. You would always leave your jackets here. Now you’re worried this would only give valuable reasons of making you look like some weird obsessive.

You wish you had something to drink.

After getting your jackets, you thank her, and walk outside the nightclub, waiting as she waves goodbye to everyone. That’s the thing. Everyone loves her. She could have anyone. Any thoughts of you and her being together for a split second is bounds enough for you to check for signs of delusions.

You lean against the wall, refusing a cigarette when she offers you one.

You don’t want to waste anymore second. The more you wait…the more the dagger will twist in your stomach. Literally. And figuratively. Because you would bleed your love out for that girl.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You muttered after two minutes, your eyes trained on the sky. It was particularly starry this evening.

Ani confusedly stares at you but says nothing, waiting for you to speak.

Finally speak.

“You didn’t do to say anything hurtful to me, Ani. You never could. I would trust you with my life.”

A pause for breath.

“You apologising when you’re not in the wrong shows how much you care. And you talked about whether you deserved a second chance but that thought never crossed my mind. I’m the one who should apologise and ask you for a second chance. I’ve been acting like a complete jerk these past couple weeks. I’m sorry. That was…that was fucked up on my part.”

You twirl your star ring, and encourage your brain to spill everything that’s it’s been clogging your senses with, spill everything that you’ve been hiding.

“I don’t deserve you at all. I shouldn’t. Not with the way I’ve been feeling—”

“What have you been feeling?”

Her cigarette long finished, she took the opportunity to speak, to finally know what’s the deal between the both of you and if it will ever be resolved. She’ll do it with time and effort, even if you insist that she didn’t do anything wrong. But she won’t do it if you let things go. If you let her go.

You drop your hands and lift your eyes to hers, your ears welling with tears you could hardly make up her frame.

“I’m in love with you.”

To say she felt her guts fell to the ground would have been a complete understatement. She chuckles hesitantly, wondering if this was some kind of sick excuse, and sees nothing but. Her mouth opens and closes, her eyebrows furrowing. While you just wanted to throw up.

“You…what?”

Saying it once was difficult enough but this felt like plunging a knife through your chest.

You’re willing to spill your blood for her if this means saying goodbye. At least she’ll know how much she meant to you.

“I love you, Ani. I don’t know when I realised it but I love you. You’re always there for me, you’re kind and so gentle. You treat me like I’m worth something. And I treasure that. But…I also treasure our relationship and I understand if you think I’m some weirdo who just wanted to be friends with you because I’m attracted to women. Just tell me and I’ll stay away from you, I will get away and—”

“Stop.”

She takes a tired hand to her forehead, lightly pinching it.

Oh you have fucked up so bad—

“Are you fucking with me?”

Your eyes widen at the question before you clear your throat, trying not to cry. You can’t cry.

“No. I…I have feelings for you. I would understand if you think it’s awful.”

“Can you not say that? Why would it be awful?”

“Because you…because you don’t…”

“What, just cause you see me flirting and dating guys doesn’t mean I can’t do the same for girls?”

There’s a soft twinkle in her eyes, the same one you love to find yourself lost in.

“But…but that doesn’t mean you can like me back.”

God, how ridiculous you were.

Do you know the way you made her feel whenever you would hold a sleepover and bring her favourite things to bed just for her? Or offer a drive to and back from her place? And whenever you’d leave your sweater, her favourite sweater, in her reach, don’t you think she wished she could really hold you?

She steps closer to you, moving to wipe your tears away.

“You have no idea, do you?”

Well, to be fair…she was pretty good at hiding it. With you, however, she should have been able to pick up on the signs. Maybe then it might have been quicker.

You close your eyes, refusing to believe that any of this is real and that it’s just a lucid nightmare.

“Look at me, baby.”

She softly whispers, waiting for you to meet her gaze. She presses a kiss on the tip of your nose, loving how absolutely adorable you look.

“I love you. So much. You know when I said that being with you felt like I was dreaming? That’s how I always want to feel. I don’t want us to be apart. Ever. And for that whole thing of me rejecting you? That’s bullshit. You’d still be my best friend in any case.”

You don’t know if you can believe that.

“I would never lie to you.”

She feels her voice breaking with the intensity of emotions she’s feeling. It’s you. Every night, every day, it’s you. You feel more like a dream, really…she would fade into you if you’d allow her to.

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“Say it again.”

Your voice is hoarse, an effort at trying to hold back your cries. You think you can see Ani’s eyes blearing too, hesitantly reaching up to wipe her tears, just like she did with yours.

“I love you.”

She wastes no time. She doesn’t want to waste anytime.

She presses her forehead against yours, grateful for your touch. The number of times she held those hands, felt them around her waist or shoulders when you’d embrace each other, can’t be at the same level as it is now. Your eyes meet, and you notice the slight darkened hue of her pupils, the sight sending a heat tumbling down your chest.

“Now, you say it.”

“I…I love you, Ani. More than you know.”

She cups your cheeks, her eyes flickering between yours.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“I’d swear on my life for you.”

Long seconds are morphed into minutes and you can’t detach yourself from the haze you’re trapped in. Her eyes then lower to your lips before they meet yours again. This time, the painful hammering that you felt in your chest has been replaced by a fluttering sensation.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her question pangs over and over in your mind, mostly because you want to remember everything she said in the exact tone. Thinking she stepped too far, she was about to pull back and apologise when you wrapped your arms around her waist and nodded.

She chuckled, leaning to graze her lips, trailing from your cheek to your ear, tickling the skin.

“Words, baby.”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want to kiss you.”

“Good.”

She looks between your eyes, slowly leaning in to give you enough time before she captures her lips in yours. It feels like she’s living for the first time again. She’s buzzing from the softness of your lips, how they taste like your chapstick you always carried everywhere with you.

It’s slow, new, almost hesitant. But it still makes her feel warm, on top of her jacket, forgetting the evening winter air surrounding you. You break apart for a quick breath before pulling each other closer again, this time the kiss going from sweet to passionate. She softly tugs your bottom lip with her teeth, making you slightly yelp. She smiles against your lips before you switch positions and gently push her on the wall, breaking apart to kiss her jaw, her neck, careful not to leave any marks, then back to her lips. Everything is mingled. Your tastes, your breaths, your bodies, no one wants to leave anytime soon. Too drunk with desire to do anything about it.

Until you hear remaining dancers leave and you jump. Ani laughs and you join along with her, the sounds creating a blissful harmony.

You wrap your arms around her, pressing her body closer to yours, and take a moment to breathe.

You’re sure you would give your own life if it were to kiss Ani again. It felt as good as it was in your dreams, sweet, loving, and hungry.

“When there’s something you need to tell me, tell me, alright? No more secrets from now on.”

“I will. I promise you. I’m…I’m so sorry again for not saying anything sooner.”

She softly presses kisses all over your face, before tugging on your jacket and pressing her lips against yours.

“Don’t apologise. I understand if you were afraid. I would be, too. I was…even a bit scared if I’m honest with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But we’re…we’re together now, right?”

You’ve never seen her this way, so uncertain. You promised yourself to never make her feel doubt again. Not like you did before.

“We’re together. I’m your girl, Ani.”

“And I’m yours.”

And one last kiss was shared before you ended up in your home, not knowing the place will morph with memories you’ve created together.

#anora #anora movie #anora 2024 #anora x reader #wlw #wlw post #wlw blog #lgbtq #bisexual #ANORA IS OUT SOON #mikey madison #taissaswifelowkey #wlw yearning #wlw angst

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moonrisecoeur · 9 months ago

Text

compliance (how to brainwash your boyfriend) — leon kennedy

author’s note: this was written with re4r!leon in mind bc that’s my boyfriend! angel said so!! i have… so many hypno ideas, some considerably more palatable and some that are Much Worse, so pls let me know if you want more! also this is based off of an audio i listened to once by everdistant-utopia on reddit! the headset concept is kind of (extremely) goofy but i was into it idk. again, i'm aware that mind control isn't real and this is a silly ass concept. i had fun doing it anyway. no leons were hurt in the making of this fic. sorry for not posting it sooner even tho it was done i was extremely embarrassed lol. pls ignore any typos. love you!! thank u!!

wc: 5k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, afab reader, oral reader receiving, orgasm control, mention of feet for like two seconds

warning: this is dark content. please do not read if the following topics are sensitive to you: noncon, hypnosis, mind control. i dont endorse or encourage this type of behavior irl, its just a fantasy!

—

as you walk down the street, you walk by a flier that’s sitting on the sidewalk. you don’t stop to read it, but one word caught your eye. mind control. it was probably something stupid, something completely made up by some lunatic who thinks mind control is real. mind control is maybe, technically real, in the ‘just relax and close your eyes, breathe deeply and let yourself be at peace’ kind of way. definitely not the ‘put on this headset and let me rewire your brain to make you my pet’ kind of way.

but… would it really hurt to look at the flier? you turn around to see it’s still there, and, against all your better judgment, you decide to walk up to it and pick it up.

it’s dirty, wet because of the rain from last night. even still, you can read the description of the advertised product clearly, along with some more info like a website and contact info for the designers. you take a brief moment to wonder who in the hell comes up with that stuff.

introducing you to the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! perfect for all of your mind control needs! simply place the device over the subjected head and choose what you’d like to do with them. need an obedient housewife? in search of a new pet? want them to be madly in love and obsessed with you? all of that and more is possible with the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! visit our website and order the headset today!

you blink. this is insane. who would do this? who would make this? why would anyone want to make someone do any of this against their will? you feel sick to your stomach as you crumple up the flier and toss it in the nearest trash can.

because that’s… that’s not consensual. that’s wrong in every possible way. unless they gave consent to be, what, turned into an ‘obedient housewife’? that’s really what it said? there’s just no way that’s right. how is that legal to sell? what even was that flier doing?

this feels like the kind of thing that would be sold on the black market, not openly advertised to people on the street. what if some lunatic saw it and just started brainwashing people? no one could stop them, it’s not exactly a crime in and of itself, and any crimes committed would be a little difficult to report if the ‘subject’ was too mindless to notice or to say anything.

whatever. you threw the flier away, you did your job as a good samaritan by tossing it so someone much much worse than you wouldn’t get a chance to look at it, and thus, you can forget all about the headset. pretend you never saw the flier or knew it existed and carry on with your life.

except, you can’t really. it permeates your thoughts, seeps inside of your subconscious until you begin to hypothesize that the headset wasn’t the real hypnosis, it was seeing that flier. you know you must be delusional. it’s not real, you’re not really mind controlled from just reading the flier, but… would it really hurt it buy it? you had the money for it and it’s not too expensive at all.

you hate yourself for it but you look on the website, just as hypnotic as the flier was, and you see multiple variations of the headset. some more suited towards different outcomes for ‘subjects’ and some just different stylistically.

you find the one you were looking at earlier. the ultra brainwasher 3000. it’s a stupid name, you’re aware. it just doesn’t really matter because who’s gonna know that you own this? you’ll keep it, maybe try it out on yourself to see what it’s like. you won’t do anything crazy, maybe like, hypnotize yourself to not be able to sit down until all your household chores are done, just for the day. the ultra brainwasher 3000 claims to have this functionality, and you’re… more or less, curious.

you order it and spend two weeks in absolute hell, making sure your boyfriend is never home alone when the package could arrive. you’re not worried he’d open it and see the device. he doesn’t look through your stuff, but the packing sticker ‘brainmelting industrial company’ would…. catch his eye for sure. try explaining that to your boyfriend, especially because even if you’re a good liar, you’re not to leon.

but, you get it, and it’s perfect because leon isn’t home right now, and you get to play with your new toy for a little bit. the box is smaller than you expected, only including the headset, a charging cord, and a set of instructions.

as you’re reading, the thought only just now hits you. it’s surprising that it’s taken you this long to have this idea, given how it would be someone else’s first instinct.

“should i…” you murmur to yourself, looking around nervously to see if anyone is in earshot, “… should i use this on leon..?”

i don’t know, should you use a mind control headset on your poor boyfriend that was just sent on a mission to save the fucking president’s daughter? maybe not.

you don’t know how it took you this long to come up with the concept. i mean, the flier did mention making someone your obedient housewife, but… they never said that someone had to be a girl…

it’s gross or actually more disgusting, honestly, how excited you get at the prospect of doing this to leon, but you decide that yeah, fuck it, you might as well brainwash your boyfriend. truthfully, what are the consequences? besides… ruining your relationship, betraying his trust, destroying him as a person… eh, it’s only temporary, right? there’s ways to make it only temporary.. and there’s no way he’d remember..

you fiddle with it, curious of all the different things you could do to him. the headset didn’t have presets, you could make up literally anything you wanted him to believe. you could make him the obedient housewife, but you could also make him a servant, maybe even dress him up all pretty as a maid. you could make sure of his loyalty and commitment, make him be so in love with you that even the thought of being with another woman makes him physically ill.

he gets home later that night, worn down and tired and exhausted in every possible way. and you know you’re going to have to put on your best acting skills. you’re not sure if you’re ready to do this, but you’re gonna have to be, so you press a sweet kiss to his lips, one he lingers on for just a moment too long. his lips chase after yours as his eyes open back up slowly, looking at you through his pretty lashes, an eyebrow raised, “what?”

you can’t help but adore him, his bluntness and gruff attitude, yet how soft he touches your waist as he pulls you closer. leon is nothing if not gentle and sweet, and you love that about him, “nothing, i just… i just wanted to look at you,” you say, and it reminds you just how easy leon is. just a couple of words and his eyes get a little glassy, his heart leaping out of his chest just a bit.

it sometimes helps that your boyfriend has been through every form of hell since that day in raccoon city, so sometimes just sweet words and little gestures get a bigger reaction than you’d expect. he’s traumatized and broken down, so the love you give him matters so much more.

in short, he’s easy. he gives in quickly and doesn’t like to fight, not with you. gives you everything you want, doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask for much besides your attention and love.

“you always stare at me,” he says awkwardly. god he’s so not charming that it makes him effortlessly likable.

that’s what’s so sucky about the idea of hypnosis. do you lose the person he used to be? sure, a mindless househusband would be great, helplessly obedient and passive and hardworking, but does this override his actual personality? that’s a bit too scary.

you make an effort to soak in these parts of his personality, enjoying every inch of his pretty little mind. you decide that no matter what you do to him, you can’t ruin him completely. you’d miss his heart, rough and guarded but nonetheless yours.

“i wanna try something,” you murmur to him, your heart pounding a little more than it should, “do you trust me?”

“of course i do,” he says. your heart almost aches, he trusts you so implicitly.

“close your eyes,” you say, and he complies easily.

you step away to grab the headset, and he’s so sweet and good that he doesn’t even peek. you take a deep breath, and commit to it.

you place it on his head, and he grumbles, but doesn’t object. poor thing. doesn’t even realize what’s happening to him.

—

the setting on the headset that you chose wasn’t anything flashy but it was labeled ‘semi-permanent’ and it stated that the subject would not remember anything from the moment of hypnosis to the moment they wake up next. so, all and all, even if you felt horrible, the damage wouldn’t be permanent, and leon wouldn’t even remember what happened.

truthfully, it felt like nothing could go wrong. it wouldn’t alter him too much, just… make him helplessly obedient for a couple hours. you could turn up the intensity if you wanted to, if it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy your curiosity.

you decide that it’s now or never, especially since being lost in your head while your boyfriend is cluelessly wearing what looks like a vr headset is kind of… odd.

you start the application, waiting for it to begin on his end.

“what are you up to?” he asks innocently, probably still not seeing anything while it loads. the question sounds like an accusation, but it’s really not. leon genuinely just wants to know what’s going on. it’s hard not to, but you don’t answer.

you notice the exact moment that it starts because grunts out of nowhere and his whole body tenses, and he clutches onto the fabric of the couch cushions, using that sense as a way to ground himself during an overload of audio and visual stimulation.

you reach to grab his hand, and his grasps yours tightly, desperately, as if physically pleading with you to make it stop.

you whisper to him, “shhh, nice and easy,” you’re not even sure if he can hear you, but you still feel the need to speak. you’re not sure if it’s your voice or your touch but he relaxes just slightly, his breath raggedy and tense. he’s trying like hell to keep himself together, but it’s so overwhelming that it’s hard for him to think, “hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, just… let it happen.”

a pathetic little whimper escapes his throat as his body goes slack, jaw hanging open and arms hanging limply by his sides, “wha… why?” his voice sounds small, weak, and if you weren’t so cruel, you’d immediately take it all back and apologize and just face the consequences.

but you’re too far deep to back out now, even if leon’s pitiful demeanor is almost swaying you to stop, you know you can’t. not now.

“i… i thought you…” he whines, body tensing and spasming as he tries to put some form of coherent thought together, “wha… why..?” he whimpers again, pathetically broken down in just a matter of minutes.

you sit there with him, holding his hand, waiting for the process to be done, and once it is, you take the headset off.

he seems agitated, but doesn’t seem to know what at. his muscles are tense, but he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“hey,” you mutter gently, and he almost flinches at the sound, looking at you with those wide deer eyes again, scared. you reach out to touch his face, fingers caressing his cheek.

the cogs in his brain turn as he processes what’s happening, and the agitation seems to evaporate and become replaced by a sense of calm and relaxation. he looks into your eyes, and it seems like he’s deciding something.

“leon?”

“yes? how… can i serve you?” he asks, jaw dropping at his own words. he’s so stunned at what he’s saying and how he’s acting yet he can’t help it.

“…address me as… ma’am,” you say, and he shivers, eyes closing tensely as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, “and go get me something. how about… a cup of coffee? yeah, let’s start there.”

it makes sense that he’s fading in and out, the programming would probably need more time to settle in before it was done and his personality obviously wouldn’t just disappear, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to watch him fight the voice in his head that is desperate to obey you.

as he disappears into the kitchen, you sit where he was sitting on the couch to take a moment to think it all over.

leon has never been the most… dominant man. he has his moments of aggression and tension that turn into a roughness that his soul seems to often carry, but it’s never controlling. he’s not demanding, he asks nothing of you besides gracing him with your presence.

but due to his past, submission also doesn’t come easy to him. he likes to think he would lean more sub, just because he’s so malleable to your will, so easy to convince. anything you want is yours, and if you want his dignity laid out in the palm of your hand, then it’s yours to keep for eternity. he just struggles to fully give up control, especially since you know he’s not really had much of that in his life.

you kept his personality intact for the most part, but… he just seems so different. he responds pretty much the same, talks the same, acts the same. something just doesn’t seem right.

“here’s the coffee you asked for,” he mutters when he returns, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s… definitely conflicted. the implanted urge to obey you mindlessly and the natural urge to protect his self-respect are fighting in his head. you watch curiously to see which will win.

leon has been through hell, and you can always see it when you look into his eyes. he’s been controlled by the government, a puppet on their strings, since he survived that night in raccoon city. he must be used to a lack of control in his life. but now he’s your puppet, and you have no interest in using him as a killing machine. you have… different plans for him.

“thanks,” you whisper, and he nods, quiet but obedient. just how you wanted him. he stands there beside you, not really knowing what to do with himself as you take a sip, “rub my feet now.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. and he did.

something in his stomach sinks at the command, a feeling of urgency to do as you say fills his entire being, but it just feels so wrong to him. you’re never this brazen, this demanding.

“come on, leon,” you say, almost condescendingly, pointing to the floor right in front of the couch, “on… your… knees.”

he breathes shakily, but kneels down in front of you, avoiding eye contact as he gives you your damn foot massage. there’s turmoil in his head, easily seen by that deer-like look in his eyes as he stares wide-eyed at the ground. despite his roughness, he’s always had these soft, fragile eyes, reminding you of who he really is. it would be truly heartbreaking to watch him go through this if it also wasn’t incredibly attractive to put him on his knees and order him around.

leon has always been relatively compliant, but now it’s on a whole other level. anything you ask for, despite some inner conflict, he’ll do. you wonder just how far you could push him, but… you don’t decide to test that just yet.

for a few minutes, or however long it takes for you to finish your coffee, you sit there with him. his touch is good but not very skilled. he gets the tension and soreness out though, and you’re sure you could train that into him over time.

“take off your shirt,” you say, and his throws off his t-shirt easily. it lands in the corner unimportantly, and your smirk radiates confidence and something else much more sinister, “stand up, bend over in front of me.”

he closes his eyes tightly, clearly fighting that inner battle but the part of him desperate to get away and to not obey you is losing. he slowly rises to his feet and does as you ask. he places his hands on the coffee table, legs spread slightly like he already knows what’s about to happen. funny, because he doesn’t seem to know much of anything right now.

you stand up, hands touching all over him but particularly grasping at his ass, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers and enjoying the way his muscles flex, tightening and hardening when you grab him, “you never let me spank you,” you muse, almost annoyed, “i get it. you get nervous with power play and letting me dom you or whatever, but i always wanted to hit it just once. just to satisfy the curiosity of what it would be like.”

your hand pulls back and slams against his butt with a loud smacking noise. he gasps, breathing out shakily after the hit, “i… i’m sorry, ma’am.”

“but now that we’re here… and i’ve already got a taste, i don’t think i ever want to stop. so, from now on, no more of that. if i want to slap your ass, i’m going to,” you murmur, “and you will not try to stop me or convince me not to.”

“i.. i…” he whimpers, and for a second you pause, nervously that the real leon, somehow deep down, heard that, “… yes, ma’am.”

“good,” you mutter, slapping it again, feeling the hit in your hand as you pull away, and if you can feel it so clearly then you’re sure he can, “now, be polite and say ‘thank you’. thank me for teaching you how to correctly behave.”

“tha… thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, eyes shutting slowly as his deep inner need to resist is weakening.

“i own you now,” you groan, grasping at his hips posessively, mouth pressing open kisses to his bare shoulder, “no, i… have always owned you. owned your body, you just didn’t realize it.”

he nods, incredibly turned on. his body aches to be claimed, to be made yours.

sure, leon has always been yours, but his body has been purely his. he’s… cautious with it. he’s been more or less just too busy for romantic partners, but somehow you snuck your way into his life and he happily lets you stay. he just… is slowly learning to trust you with himself.

he can do easy, comfortable, casual sex. what he can’t do is hand himself over to you like this, helplessly obedient, submissive in every possible way. as much as leon doesn’t have the energy to fight, tired and worn down, fighting is all he know.

your nails drag against the skin of his torso and back, leaving pretty red lines wherever they go, “no more fighting. no more stressing about it. all you have to do is be mine, unequivocally.”

“i… i am..” he mumbles, and you tilt your head, eyeing him curiously. he notices, shying away, “i… i am yours. unequivocally. you can… you can have me.”

manhandling has always been a little difficult, considering leon is all muscle and he’s a sturdy guy, but you spin him at the hips to face you, and he’s effortlessly moved, “can i… have your body just as much as i have your heart?”

“yes, i… yes, ma’am, it’s yours. do whatever you want with it, ma’am,” he says, a slight daze in his eyes, clearly he’s not all the way there. he's trying. he’s still so soft, so tender and malleable, so leon.

you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, and he melts into your touch, hands grasping him roughly, in a way that might hurt anyone else, but leon is strong. sure, your touch is bruising him, but… he doesn’t have enough

of his mind left to be bothered.

lips trail down his neck and shoulder, but move back up to his ear, sucking on his skin in a vampiric manner. you whisper to him, “you’re gonna only focus on my pleasure.”

“i… i am? i… i am…” he stutters, god it’s so damn cute.

“of course you are. you’d rather eat me out than have an orgasm yourself, wouldn’t you? if i was a crueler person, i would find a way to mind control your orgasms away completely. that way you could… focus on my pleasure, but i’m not that mean.”

he shudders, your lips pressing to the sensitive spot underneath his ear, teeth dragging down his skin, teasing him, taunting him.

“you wanna eat now?” you ask, lips pressed to his collarbone now, and he moans out an affirmative. you suck a hickey against the skin right atop of the bone, admiring the redness, the way you get to watch it turn a disgusting shade of purple. one that should make you nervous to have done to him, only turns you on.

instead of ordering him into his knees this time, you just push him, easily putting his head between your legs. his hands come up to hold your thighs, steadying himself as you half-stand half-sit on the counter. he pulls your pants down enough , but can’t even be bothered to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side.

“can.. i, ma’am?”

you chuckle, not really expecting him to be so polite, “go for it, sweet thing.”

he leans in, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit, just once, before his tongue meets your folds and he licks and sucks like tomorrow won’t come but he’ll make sure you will. he groans into your pussy like he’s the one being pleasured, and that honestly seems like a fair comparison. sure, he was physically pleasing you, but even just the act of giving oral is making his head spin with a satisfaction he has never felt before. he could get high off of this.

leon has always been good at giving head. much better than just good. he’s incredible. it’s the one thing where he can fully just zone out. if you’re too lost in your own pleasure, then you can’t focus on him and how he’s feeling, and there’s something oddly safe about the feeling of being, for all intents and purposes, alone with his thoughts. eating your pussy just comes so natural that it’s second nature.

but now? he can’t get lost in his thoughts if he doesn’t have any. doesn’t mean he’s enjoying it any less. he’s enjoying anything you ask him to do. you could tell him to go fold your laundry and then clean your bathroom and do your dishes and he’s do everything diligently and he’d be satisfied the whole time. god, maybe you do really want a househusband. besides, leon could use the emotional break from his job. he’s content enough serving you.

he makes you cum sooner than you expected, but it’s literally just because he’s that good with his tongue, and when he moved one his hands from your thigh to press two fingers into your cunt, fingering you in thick circular motions as he sucked on your clit, you were gone.

he continues, wet fingers gushing in a fast rhythm as you orgasm, grinding against his mouth, using him completely for your own pleasure. it was always a secret fantasy of his, and now it’s reality, even if his mind isn’t all the way there and the only thoughts running through his head are is she pleased with me? did i do a good job? do i deserve her praise? i should do better next time. i should serve her better. i only want to serve her.

and now that he’s completely helpless, servitude being the only concept he can comprehend, and you come down from a high so intense it took you a second to remember that leon was waiting patiently for your next command, next order.

“put… put me on the couch…” you gasp out in heavy breaths.

he’s strong, and he helps to guide you to the couch, body still part paralyzed from such an intense pleasure. you lay there, still breathing a little heavy.

“go get dressed and cleaned up…” you mutter to him, “and then come back out here and cuddle up next to me.”

he does as you ask, finding his clothes and getting dressed again, and then when he approaches the couch again, you reach out your arms for him. the smile he gives you is almost too real. too… really leon. you still feel that twinge of nervousness in your gut, but then he lays against you, head tucked into the crook of your neck, and you know he doesn’t know. for all that he’s good at, leon’s not a great actor.

you reach your hand up to run your fingers through his hair repeatedly, soft and soothing motions to lull him into a state of compliance.

“you’re mine,” you whisper, hoping he’ll confirm it back.

of course he does, softly, no longer feeling conflicted, “yours, ma’am.”

“you’ll be obedient and submissive from now on,” your voice is soft but carries a dominance he doesn’t quite think he could ever escape nor would he ever want to.

“i’ll be.. obedient and submissive.”

“you’ll only focus on my pleasure,” you say, knowing he’ll repeat it back obediently just like the ones previous, but you feel his rock hard cock against your leg and as much as you want to shove his cock inside of you in an instant, you can’t help but want to control him like that. keep his orgasms just out of reach until he goes mad from the teasing and edging you plan to do to him. keep him nice and horny and desperate, just how you like him. if he wasn’t submissive enough for you before, he is now.

“only yours, only ever yours, please…” his voice is soft and meek and god if you wanted to you could find a mind control that was permanent and just… leave him like this forever. let him take care of your home and future kids and do your household chores and tasks. keep him completely obedient, god it would be…

“you can’t resist,” you whisper, leaning into his hair,

resting your head against his in a soft intimate moment, “i can’t resist, ma’am.”

you nod gently, and after a moment, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “i’m.. i love you, leon. sorry about all of this..”

“… why are you apologizing, ma’am?” he asks, tilting his head slightly even in your grasp to show confusion. he really is just like a little puppy sometimes.

“you know.. about the mind control.”

he shrugs, the most unbothered happy smile on his face, “oh, that’s.. that’s okay, i’m fine with it. i.. already belonged to you.”

“but that was in a more… romantic way. an ‘i belong with you’ kind of way. not the kind i did to you,” you say, just a tinge of guilt holding you back, but you push it aside, “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. i just.. just know i love you. even when i’m ordering you around.”

“i’ll remember that, ma’am,” he smiles up at you just a little softer, just a little more like his true self, just a little more leon. that heavy feeling of guilt in your gut will never quite go away, will it?

you fall asleep on the couch together, knowing or maybe just hoping you’ll wake up to leon not remembering anything. hopefully he doesn’t piece together that he has no memory of you giving him that hickey and those bruises on his hips were definitely not his job's doing.

—

you wake up to a fond smell of breakfast and a bright morning, sitting up off the couch as you look at your phone. leon’s not laying there next to you, which is odd but not completely uncommon. sometimes he goes out in the morning to work out or disappears in the middle of the night when he’s needed somewhere, but most of the time, and today included, he’s just in the kitchen.

you find him there, standing in front of the coffee pot, and you walk up to him to wrap your arms around his midsection, softly burying your face into his back to shyly hide from his gaze.

“awh, morning lovebug,” his sweet raspy morning voice says to you, a hand on your arms, holding you tight so there’s not even a chance you could let go, “missed ya yesterday. did you sleep alright?”

“...mhm,” you hum, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder blade.

it’s a sweet moment, full of love and warmth and tenderness and you could have almost forgotten what you did to leon last night had the smell of coffee not been hanging in the air. but hey, at least he doesn’t remember what really happened, though he’s kind of confused just how he forgot how he got all of these bruises and scratches.

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pinkanonwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Sloppy-Style

MY WOLFWOOD/READER FIC IS HEEEERE!!! I may have had a bit too much fun writing this, but i think it’s a masterpiece so it’s more than worth it. I haven’t had anyone proofread this so if you see any typos no you didnt. <(￣︶￣)>

Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader, NSFW, 4,200+ words, PLANT!Reader, alien biology, aphrodisiac, fingering, AFAB-ish Reader but no pronouns used, Vaginal sex, sweaty, sticky, messy, and affectionate, the four best things for a smut fic to be!~

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

In Wolfwood's eyes, you were a remarkably easy person to read.

Maybe it was a PLANT thing, you and Vash both seemed to wear your emotions right on your sleeve wherever you went, whoever you met. And though Nicholas wasn't a fan of that particular brand of vulnerability on himself, on you he found it to be at least somewhat refreshing. That must have been why it threw him so off-kilter when you seemed to be hiding something.

You'd been quieter than usual the past few days, and if Wolfwood were a less observant man there was a chance he wouldn't even have noticed. Sure you laughed along to Vash's antics and joined the dinnertime chatter like usual, but the spaces in between that would normally be filled with your thoughts and queries were starting to come up uncomfortably silent. You were jumpier too, that was impossible to ignore. Not just around strangers, but bumping into Meryl, Vash, Milly, even himself seemed to have you jolting away like you were going to bolt right out of your own skin.

And when your group finally arrived in the next town and you'd quietly tugged Meryl aside, asking to have your own room for the night since you weren't feeling well? He couldn't help but be a little bit curious.

So when Vash and the girls were discussing where they wanted to eat for dinner, Wolfwood waved them off, insisting that he'd meet up with them at the bar that evening. As soon as the trio were out of eye and earshot, he let himself quietly up to the door of your room.

"Ey, birdie." He gave your door a few rough taps with the backs of his knuckles. "Seriously, what's eatin' you? You've been weird all day."

"Whu-Wolfwood?"

You sounded… almost out of breath? Jiggling the brass handle a bit, he found the door to be locked too.

"Nonononono, don't come in! I'm fine, I'm fine!"

Your feet pattered unsteadily across the floor as you rushed to keep the door shut. Your shoulder thumped against the wood, and he could hear your shaky, uneven breathing beyond it. Wolfwood's frown deepened, brow furrowing at… at whatever you think you're up to right now.

"If you're sick or something I'm gonna be real pissed off!" He rattled the doorknob again and you squeaked, hands coming down to clasp it. "You may have everyone else fooled, but you're actin' weird lately. And don't think I won't blow this door down to get to the bottom of it."

Why did he care so much? This wasn't a part of his mission, his plan. All he was supposed to do was keep needle-noggin from getting his head blown off by wayward mercenaries, now here he was trying to play Mr. Fix-It for some other Independent he wasn't even aware existed until recently. He's about ready to give up and shoot the lock of your door in when he hears a strangled whimper from your side of the wood partition.

"...You alright?" He asks, the irritated edge dropping quickly off of his tone.

"...No."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You whine again, something about the tone zinging heat through Wolfwood's mind. Before he can try and question you a third time the door unlatches with a soft click, and you peer at him through the gap between it and the doorframe.

Your forehead is beaded with sweat, and you're all but panting as you clutch the front of your oversized white linen nightshirt. There's a scent in the air that hits him as soon as you open the door, nearly bowling him over. It's thick, heady- a deep earthy scent but there's almost a touch of something… sweet, to it. It's intoxicating.

"You really need to leave." You tried to insist, but your voice sounds like that's the last thing you want Wolfwood to be doing.

"The hell's going on with you?" He pressed on, and when you try to push the door shut again his hand clutches the edge and forces it, gently but insistently, back open. You stumble back a few steps as he lets himself into the room and shuts the door. There's feathers strewn all about, like you'd exploded a down pillow, and that scent is damn near strong enough to bring him to his knees.

"It's- It's complicated."

"Try me. I'm smarter than you think."

You wring the fabric of your nightshirt, twisting it in your hands as you shift idly back and forth. Though you struggle to make eye contact with him Wolfwood can feel your gaze raking up and down his body. For once in his life he feels distinctly not like the predator he's been made to be, but the prey beneath your steely eyes.

"I'm… blooming."

Wolfwood's lack of response is too awkward for you to just sit in, so your words stumble forward unabated.

"I thought it was just something they'd induce in the lab. Chemical injections to encourage reproduction. I didn't know it could happen outside of the tanks."

Induce in the lab.

Chemical injections.

Encourage reproduction.

Oh.

"So you're like, uh-" He was prepared for any possible outcome except, it seems, this one. "Horny?"

You groan, burying your face in both hands. When the group had discovered you, everyone had uncomfortably ignored the little green check mark in your digital files next to the line 'Approved for Breeding.' Frankly Wolfwood hadn't wanted to think about the implications, much less consider that they'd come up again in a different context. But now he's forced to accept the uncomfortable reality of the situation, though he doubted it could be more uncomfortable for himself than it must be for you.

But damn, you looked good though. Smelled good too. Was that a weird PLANT thing? Like hell if he knew, but he couldn't help from eating you up with his eyes the same way you were doing to him.

…Did you just say something to him?

"Sorry, uh, what was that?"

You huff, drawing your lower lip under your teeth and wringing the fabric ever tighter in your hands. Your incessant tugging was stretching the neckline out, exposing more and more of your sweaty, jutting collarbone and- focus, Wolfwood, focus. "So you should probably leave before things get any worse. I'll be fine in a couple days."

"A co- Sorry, a couple days? Damn, birdie." He wasn't above laying low for a couple days in a small town like this, and he was sure everyone else would enjoy the break from the chaos too. But a week straight for you? Locked in your room, whimpering, writhing, desperate…? Okay maybe it wasn't such a bad image after all. But Wolfwood hardly wanted you to torture yourself like that. "Anything you can do about it?"

"Not by myself, no." His eyebrows fly up, and only then do you realize how that sentence actually sounded. "That wasn't-! I didn't mean-!"

"Whoa whoa, hey, take it easy. Don't freak yourself out over nothin'." He means for it to be a soothing gesture when he cups your cheek, but your knees buckle like they're going to give out completely and you shudder into his touch. "...Y'know, I'm not opposed either. If you're lookin', I mean."

You don't flinch away at his words, nor do you stutter or stammer or gasp. But your cheek flushes hot under his touch and when you blink your bleary eyes open your pupils are blown so wide they eclipse the color of your iris almost completely. "Why's that?" You rumble, hands relaxing ever so slightly where they bunch the thin linen of your shirt.

"Maybe I don't like seeing a sweet little thing like you in pain, ever think of that?" His thumb traces the apple of your cheek and you breathe out a shuddering sigh. But there's still a hint of trepidation behind your gaze, something still a touch unsure.

"It's… it's a little different, down there. Not quite the same as a human."

He cracks a smarmy grin. "You got a hole?" You thump him on the chest with a flat palm and he chuckles, tapering off softly when you give him a tiny nod in response. "Then I'll figure it out. I'm pretty creative."

"You're a real perv for a holy man." You let out a small, breathless giggle, and holy man or not Wolfwood is ready to fall to his knees for you right then and there. "...Only if you can promise this won't make things weird."

"Pinkie promise."

Whatever bit of sanity you’ve been desperately clinging to in order to maintain this conversation seems to slip through your fingertips at his gentle insistence. You slump into his arms, clinging to the front of his suit jacket like a lifeline as you press your cheek into the bare valley of his chest. He leans back against the door to slot a knee between your thighs and you seat yourself like it’s second nature, hips rocking as you moan into his bare skin.

“That’s it, baby.” His hand cups the back of your head, fingers threading in your messy hair. “God, you’re aching for it, aren’t you?”

“W’lfwood,” You slur, mushed and messy, and he shudders as you lathe your tongue up the inner curve of his pectoral. “Kiss, kiss.”

“Alright, alright. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Sliding down the back of your head, his hand cups the base of your neck as you strain to kiss him, meeting in a wet, desperate fervor. Your tongue traces the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open himself up to you as your mouths meet. You're so soft, so much softer than he deserves. His hip is bumping against the door handle every time you roll your crotch against the meat of his thigh, the sharp insistent rattling joining the wet and breathy sounds of your mouth meeting his. You whimper and groan into each kiss like it pains you to part, even for a moment, and Wolfwood can already feel the knee of his slacks soaking through with your insistent arousal.

You might just devour him whole if he lets you go on like this. He doesn't think he'd even mind it.

But he's starting to get a crick in his neck, and if he keeps rattling the doorknob like this eventually someone's gonna come a-knocking. So carefully, while disentangling himself from you as little as possible, he starts to lead you backwards towards your unmade bed. When your knees hit the edge of the mattress you take him with you, the unexpected show of force surprising but definitely not unappreciated as you drag him down onto the bed on top of you. Feathers fly as your bodies whump into the mattress, springs squeaking as he wrestles you into place beneath himself. Your mouths pull apart with a wet pop, and you whimper and lean towards him to reconnect them again even as he sits back on his knees.

"Shh, shh, don't worry, birdie." He purrs. One broad hand strokes down the curve of your belly, following the fabric of your nightshirt down to your mid thigh so he can hook two fingers underneath the hem. "I said I'd take care of you, didn't I? Well you gotta let me see what I'm working with first."

You chirp, honest to God chirp in response, chime-like and eager. Between the noises and the feathers, he's starting to think that 'birdie' nickname he chose for you was less of a fun coincidence and more some sort of divine intervention, a peek into his inevitable future. But frankly he's much more interested in the way you spread your legs for him ever further, tension pulling the hem of your nightshirt further up as you coo for his touch. He pushes it up the rest of the way for you and the fabric crumples and folds where it's bunched upon your stomach. You aren't wearing anything beneath it, and that's damn near enough to knock the wind out of him alone. But there's a thick, translucent glimmer all the way down your inner thighs, dripping from your core, and in a breathless headrush Wolfwood realizes in your arousal and desperation you'd slicked yourself all the way down to the inside of your knees.

He finds his gaze and his hands raking up towards the apex of your thighs. You were telling the truth, it isn't exactly like a human's. But it's not too dissimilar either. Soft, pink petals fold outwards from your core like a blooming flower. They quiver as he drags his knuckles along the curve of your inner thigh, another glob of sweet-smelling fluid dripping from your hole as your breath hitches. At the top of the bloom he finds a swollen bud, standing to attention like it can't wait to receive his touch. Your clit, maybe? Or whatever the equivalent is. Either way, it's the perfect size for him to smooth under the calloused pad of his thumb, and when he does you let out a punched-out sob, stomach tensing as you curl towards his exploratory hand.

"Fuck… Aren't you a pretty sight? Trust me baby, you've got nothing to worry about." It's not nearly enough, but Wolfwood's never been good with words. He knows that you aren't human but right now? Right now you're ethereal. Hair encircling your head in a soft halo, surrounded by little drifting feathers, glistening with sweat and slick? And your eyes? God, your eyes…

"Wolfwood!" You're reaching for his lapels again, tugging weakly at the fabric to urge him to do something, anything. "Nicholas!"

"Deep breaths, I'm not goin' anywhere." He slid two fingers up through your folds, skirting around the edges of your hole. The mewl you let out crawls down the length of his spine and curls hot and needy in his gut; He's going to need to take his own deep breaths if he wants to not bust the second he gets inside you. "Here, just like this, birdie. That's it." He shuffles himself between your legs, pulling until you wrap them both around his hips and you're spread impossibly further open for him. "Fingers first, okay?"

"Nick.~" You're practically sobbing, but you nod in agreement despite yourself. A thick middle finger prods at your entrance, petals fluttering and shivering as your body opens up to him, sucking him in up to the second knuckle with hardly more than a slow, insistent press. The intrusion does little to quell the flame roaring in your lower stomach, only further stoking your desire as your pussy twitches and drools around the intruding digit. He gives it a slow, patient thrust, crooking it upwards towards your belly as he does and causing more warm slick to dribble out into his palm.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Leaking all over my hand and I haven't even gotten a second finger in yet." He can't help but tease you, even though he thinks you may already be too far gone to register it. Your body opens up to him so easily, hips rabbiting as he pinches your clit between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand, pulling back to press a second finger into you alongside the first. There's a little more resistance, but with how wet you are for him it isn't long before he's working them into you in a rhythmic pulse, slick squelching and spattering into his hand with each thrust. "You gotta cum for me first, alright? Then I'll fuck you just like you need it. You wanna cum for me, sweet thing?"

"Yes, yes!" Your hands scrabble wildly for the front of his shirt, nails raking down his bare chest as you tug him to meet you. You mash your mouth against his own, slick with spit and moaning into his as your teeth click harshly against each other's. "Mmfh, Wolfwood, Nick. Wanna cum, wanna cum please!"

"I'm not stopping you, birdie.~" He fights a smirk, crooking his fingers to grind the calloused tips against your soft, spongy walls. “Let go for me.”

But as much as he wants to watch your expressions as you tip over the edge for him, he's caught off-guard by a rough shredding noise as your back goes concave, wings bursting straight through the fabric of your nightshirt beneath you as you gasp and pulse around his fingers. Feathers explode into the still air as you writhe and gush and sob for him.

"Nick, Nick!" Scrabbling hands grip at his wrist but he keeps his fingers moving, massaging your shivering walls until the tension finally seems to melt from your body and you slump pathetically back onto the mattress with a final gush of slick warmth. "Nick, Nico…" You're so far gone for him, and it's too damn cute.

"So that's where all the feathers came from. Fancy that."

"Mmmrh… Ruined my shirt…" You grumble, whining again when he slowly pulls his fingers from your blooming core.

"Want me to buy you a new one? Just don't pick anything too pricey, we're still on a budget here." He pats the inside of your inner thigh in a manner that's supposed to be playfully patronizing, but the gentle jerk of your hips toward his touch just pulls another wry grin to his face. "Whoa there, darlin'."

You swat weakly at his hand, but there's no real malice behind it, not really. "Wha' am I, a Tomas?"

"Based on how hard you were riding my fingers, maybe I'm the Tomas- hey!" He's laughing as you swat at him again, leaning in to kiss the smile off your face. "Little brat.~ Maybe you don't need my help after all?"

"Nononono, don't go! Nico, please?" It's not like he's planning on going anywhere, not with your heels snug in the small of his back and your hands rumpling his unbuttoned shirt, but he lets you tug him back in as you nuzzle at his sweat-sticky collarbone with your nose. "Nick, you said you'd help…" Your wings strain to curl around him as well, cradling his body and yours with the massive feathery appendages as you pepper kisses down his neck. The shredded remains of your shirt slip from your chest as you arch towards him, and he quickly bundles it into a single fist and tosses it aside.

"Then maybe you better be good for me, hm? If you want me to take care of you."

"I do, 'm sorry. Please take care of me, Nick."

You sound so genuine, even more so than usual, and despite it just being some playful teasing he almost feels the slightest bit guilty. A warm kiss brushes your temple as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt, shucking it and the jacket off in one smooth motion to crumple somewhere onto the floor.

"Don't worry birdie, you've got me. I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

You chirp for him again, arms encircling his neck as your fingers tangle in his shaggy black hair. Wolfwood’s hands fumble blindly with the button of his slacks, lips trailing the curve of your neck as he wrestles the waistband down, taking his boxers with it. Unrestrained, his cock springs free, dark and flushed and beading pre-cum at the tip. There’s a soft, wet slap as he taps it against your sticky cunt, grinding your clit down beneath his swollen head until you’re practically shivering with need, fingers twisting hard into his hair as you struggle to breathe steadily. He lets it slide once, twice over your dripping hole before you choke out another sob of his name and he finally relents, pressing until the head pops slickly into your waiting core.

“Nick…” Your content little coo and the full body shiver you give him in response is like an adrenaline shot directly to his ego. He feels like his head is full of cotton, thick and fuzzy and warm and it’s taking every little bit of clarity he’s able to grasp onto to not bust with just the tip of his cock inside your impossible heat. You’re certainly not helping, hips jumping to desperately take in more of him, fingernails just barely prickling at the base of his neck. He breathes out slowly through his nose, shaky, steadying, before pressing on. Inch by careful inch he slides into you, murmuring mindless soft nothings all the while (for both your sake and his sanity’s) until he can feel his hips bump gently against your own. Only then does he risk letting himself slip the slightest bit, grinding hard into you as his head massages a soft, spongy spot deep within your core. Fuck, he feels like he can feel your heartbeat in your pussy…

You murmur something again, it’s most likely his name, or another plea, but Nicholas is starting to lose his own carefully-cradled sanity himself. He draws back slowly, so slowly, your vice-like heat begging him not to leave, before snapping his hips forward in a sharp, punishing roll. The reaction is all he could have possibly wanted and more; You wail, your wings shiver, trails of fire rake down the expanse of his back where your fingernails dig in.

He’s already dreading his own quick healing process, as any marks from you he’d gladly wear forever.

It doesn’t take him long to find a rhythm, one that trickles molten heat down the length of his spine and leaves you all but screaming his name. One of his hands cradles your hip as the other grasps blindly at the edge of the headboard, wood thunking heavily against plastered wood as it slams against the hotel room wall with each thrust. His lips, his teeth, his tongue, they find the curve of your jawbone in an equally messy display, scraping along soft skin and kissing away the sweat that beads there as the two of you sink together deeper into euphoria. The air smells of sweat and sex and cigarette smoke and fresh flora, and though Wolfwood knows at this point he’ll never get into heaven, never step one foot past those fabled pearly gates, this has to be the closest damn thing to it he’ll ever see in his lifetime.

“Touch yourself for me.” He growls, breath hot against your neck. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, sweet thing.”

You sob again, sweaty hand wriggling between your pressed-together bodies to fondle your oversensitive clit. It’s hardly more than a barely-there brush before you’re cumming again, slick gushing around the point where your bodies meet as you somehow squeeze so impossibly tighter around him. He means to last longer, wants to last longer, but your body and your voice and the oh so gentle kiss you place upon his scruffy cheek as your wings come up to enfold him like he’s something to be revered, something to be cherished…

“Fuck.”

He chokes out a curse as he spills into you, a slurry of hot cum and slick pooling low in your gut as his hips stutter, his breath goes ragged. Each unsteady jolt of his hips shoots off fireworks behind your eyelids, his thumb digging into the jut of your hip bone as he pants into the crook of your neck. You meet in another kiss, languid and open-mouthed and messy as his movements finally slow to a stop. When he pulls away again there’s a shimmering trail of saliva still connecting your mouth to his, and he tongues it off of his lower lip with an all-too-pleased smirk.

“Feelin’ better yet, birdie?”

You nod and let out a soft, approving hum. Though something deep inside you still yearns as he carefully pulls out, soft cock slipping free to release a deluge of slick fluid between your legs. Luckily Nicholas doesn’t seem inclined to go much further than that, settling his chin into the valley of your chest with a content huff as your fingers find his hair once more. There’s less tugging this time though, and far more petting.

“Mmmh, you could put a guy to sleep like that if you aren’t careful. I still gotta clean you up, don’t I?”

“What a gentleman.~” You tease, drawing an amused snort from Nick’s lips.

“What can I say? I live to serve.” For once he truly lets himself relax, melting into your gentle touch and your warm, soft body beneath his own. “Fuck, I’m not even craving a smoke right now. You’re really something, you know that?”

“Want me to help you kick the habit?”

“You really want me to bend you over and fuck you sloppy-style every time I’m craving a hit?”

“Nick!” The snort you’d drawn from him earlier blossoms into full-chested laughter at your scandalized tone. You thump him on the shoulder with an open palm, a scolding little slap.

“Ahh, you’re no fun!” He chuckles, playful fingers pinching the fat of your outer thigh. “Alright then, let’s split a shower and hit the hay instead. I’m beat. How long’s this ‘blooming’ thing supposed to last when you’ve got someone to roll around with, anyway?”

“Not too long, another day at most. But don’t be mad if I wake you up in the middle of the night looking for some attention. You signed up for this, after all.”

“Darlin’, you can have my attention whenever you want.~”

#nicholas d wolfwood #nicholas wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x reader #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun imagines #trigun x reader #trigun smut #my writing #long post

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pear1escence · 4 months ago

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Flower in fall

David ‘Hesh’ Walker x Fem!Reader - 18+

Angst - Smut Now….I’m not proof reading this so if there are typos and inconsistencies I apologise but I’m not straining my brain any more for today bleh

—

You’ve always been someone more engaged in your thoughts than whatever goes on around you. On some days, the days pass by in a blur of nothing while you’re stuck twisting the same events over in your mind. What you could’ve done differently. Where you could have been right now.

Maybe if you hadn’t spontaneously walked into that bar on that particular night, you’d never have met him. Maybe you wouldn’t be so heartsick right now, so unsure of what to do. You think about how entirely devastated you felt by that hospital bed where the man you loved lay, unconscious, frail, his sun-kissed skin uncharacteristically pale. You sniff out the memory before it breaks you further.

There’s the buzzing of your phone on the coffee table as it lights up. You ignore it, as you’ve ignored it every other time someone’s called these past couple hours. You can’t talk to David right now. There’s a heaviness that sits deep in your guts that won’t let you. Scared of the inevitable heartbreak a relationship with him brings, the fear that ripples through you whenever he leaves, of the possibility you might never see him alive again. It wasn’t something you’d taken seriously, truly considered, not before Elias had called you on that god-forsaken, unassuming evening, his voice uncharacteristically shaky as he’d informed you of the critical state of his oldest son.

You hate yourself for it, how you’re causing him pain when you could easily avoid to. But you don’t pick up the phone, and a couple more minutes pass before it stills again.

—

Your spine is curled up by the headboard of the bed you share. The blinds stop the sunlight from trickling in, allows you to escape into what feels like a different dimension, secluded and completely isolated from the rest of the world.

You jolt at the sound of floorboards creaking under heavy footsteps, the sound of your name echoing through the walls, alerting you of David’s presence. There’s a knock on the door before it opens and he steps in. You hide your face like a child, unable to face him, your head buried in between your knees as your arms wrap around them tighter.

David calls your name, louder when you don’t respond. He sighs and steps closer, sitting on the corner of the bed, and you shift your face to the side. He looks tired. Sad. The corners of his mouth pulled into a near pout, and you’re not sure what he’s thinking right now. “I called.”

You stare back at him, sitting up straighter and covering your mouth with the hems of your shirt. “Why didn’t you answer?” He doesn’t even sound angry, just confused, there’s a devastation in his voice that kills you. There’s a gap of silence, several minutes passing before you answer. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You croak, your nose stinging.

“You can’t just…ignore me like this, as if I don’t exist, as if I don’t mean anything to you?” He frowns, standing up, crossing his arms and looking at you expectantly. Waiting for an answer you won’t give. He shakes his head, making his way into the bathroom, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

The sounds of bedsheets rustling and the bed frame creaking wakes you, but the comforting hug of David’s arms wrapping around you doesn’t come. You sneak a glance over your shoulder at the man lying on the other side of the bed, his arm bent at the elbow, a hand placed under his head as he stares up at the ceiling.

His torso is bare, the scar on his stomach in display. The bullet that pierced through his flesh, lodged itself so deep it almost claimed his life.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to even out your breathing, calm the storming beats of your heart. “David,” you whisper, shuffling a little closer to him. His gaze falls on you, and you continue. Explain how scared you’ve felt for him, ever since his accident. How scared you are of it happening again, only he might not survive. How scared you are of losing him.

Your cheeks are wet with tears once you’ve aired everything out. You choke on your silent sobs when the familiar warmth of his envelops you as David takes you into his arms, sitting up with his back against the headboard. His hand finds the back of your head, guiding you into the crook of his neck, stroking your hair as his chin rests on your head. You cling onto him as if he could disappear from your hands at any moment, he wraps a burly arm around your back, the two of you coming together like pieces of a puzzle.

You stay like that for a while, neither of you uttering a single word.

You take a final, deep breath before shifting your face to the side, supported on his shoulder. He’s crying, you notice. Pretty green eyes shining with tears that spill over. He doesn’t make any efforts to hide it, lets you take his face into your hands, press kisses onto his skin and wipe the tears away with your thumbs. “I love you.” He whispers, “And I won’t leave you. We’re okay.” It’s a promise you can’t doubt, for your own sake and for his. His hand weaves itself into your hair, pushes your lips against his.

“Love you too,” you murmur against him, kissing him gently, your tongue moving against his, licking into his mouth. It sparks up a desire for him, your hips grinding down involuntarily, in need of relief from the storm of sadness that’s been building up for days now.

He groans into your mouth, his hands meeting your hips, creeping underneath your shirt up to your bare breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh and pinching a nipple between his thumb and pointer before he pulls the shirt over your head, leaving you bare except for a pair of plain cotton panties.

His hands return to your hips as he leans back against the headboard, his hands kneading at the plump skin of your ass, taking in the view of your naked body. “Never get enough of seeing you like this.” he places a kiss on the sensitive skin of your neck, taking in the comforting scent of your skin.

“David,” you whine, raking your nails through the hairy expanse of his chest, all the way down to his flannel pjs, “please?” He hums, his fingers finding their way into your panties and tracing your achingly wet slit, spreading your arousal all over your cunt. “This what you needed, baby?” He hums, nipping at your neck. Two thick fingers push into your poor, aching pussy, gently curling up against a spot that makes you whine, grind down against his fingers for more.

Your hand finds the bulge of his cock, palming him through his pants, his hand faltering in movement for a second as he groans, his brows knotting together, a look of desperation in his eyes that mirrors your own. You find the hem of his pants, tugging them down along with his boxers to access what you needed. His breath hitches, eyes meeting your own through his lashes, as your fingers skim along the length of his cock, wrapping around his tip and pressing around him softly.

He moves with you, his thumb finding your clit and drawing lazy circles as you stroke his cock in slow, languid motions. It’s a gentle pleasure, intimate like the loving revelations you whisper to each other, warm like the crook of his neck you bite into to stifle the whimpers of pleasure that spill out of your mouth, ones he thankfully makes no effort to conceal.

“I needa feel you, pretty girl,” he whispers, placing kisses that follow your cheekbone till he’s connecting them with your lips, his tongue moulding with yours when you obediently open your mouth. His fingers slip out of you to dig into your hips, push you closer to him, your arousal coating his cock as he runs his shaft between your lips, his hot breath on your mouth.

“Look at me, baby,” he groans, a desperate, yearning sound as he pushes into you, the thickness of his cock sending a tinge of pain through you as he stretches out the poor walls of your cunt. His arm wraps around your waist, keeping you close to him as your eyes meet his, “there’s my girl.” He hums, nipping at your lower lip before he gives you another kiss.

You curse at the delicious feeling of being stuffed full of his cock, his tip rubbing against a spot that sends sparks of pleasure through your thighs as you grind down on his thighs slowly. He’s got you wrapped tightly against him, his heavy breaths hot in your neck, craned to the side as you rest your head on his shoulder. You’re content to let your pleasure built up slowly, the slow circles of your hips pulling pretty groans out of him. His groin is hot, sticky with the pool of your joint arousal, and you’d be overwhelmed if you didn’t have his arms around you, grounding you to the moment.

It’s a feeling similar to the good weed highs, an overdrive of hot, sticky love, dizzying, your emotions heightened, completely focused on him. The slow lift of his hips, that needy look in his eyes. You’re still in awe of him sometimes, in awe of this bear of a man you’re wrapped up with, who feels so deeply, loves so sweet. “I love you.” You mutter into his skin, for the hundredth time.

He hums, a breathy chuckle leaving those pretty, pinkish lips. “Love you too.” His arms loosen around you, hands squeezing at your thighs, lifting you up on his cock and lowering you again with ease. The warmth at your core feels like pure, molten pleasure, and his heavy groans turn pathetic with desperation, pouring into you as his lips lock with yours again. You lift yourself up on your knees, just barely hovering over him but allowing him to fuck into you, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pistons into you. There’s something nearly animalistic in the way he’s practically rutting into you, chasing his release, the heat in your core pouring down your thighs in shocks of pleasure as your orgasm washes over you in mind-numbing waves.

Through the rush of your heartbeat, pounding through your eardrums with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you barely register the groans that spill out of him, the squeeze of his arms around you as he clamps you down onto him one final time, his cock buried deep inside of you as his seed spills into your aching pussy. The slow grind of his hips, his heavy breaths, continuous whispers of ‘I love you’ into the skin of your neck.

The aftermath of sex with Hesh you always look forward to. The damp towel between your legs as he cleans you up so that you can sleep comfortably, an ice-cold glass of water, the stroke of his hand on your hair, lulling you to sleep as you get to lie there lazily, knowing that even in this chaotic mess of a world you’ll always feel at home in his loving arms.

#david walker #david hesh walker x reader #david hesh walker #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts

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captncook · 2 years ago

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jake sully x fem!na’vi!reader

{ pls enjoy this … and ignore any typos pls}

warnings: very soft!!! , smutty!! (unprotected sex, size kink??, soft sex,, sub jake?? slight angst??) 18+

last warning: there is smut.

chosen

“cmon jake!” you giggled quietly. the two of you were skipping around the forest after a long day of training. the latter followed behind you willingly a smile etched on his face as he enjoyed the company of you and your shenanigans.

“where are we going again?” he inquired, his pace quickening to match yours. you threw a quick glance over your shoulder and smiled as you watched him struggle to keep up. you didn’t answer his question and instead, picked up your pace oncemore as you grew closer to your destination.

jake had been training with you all day. all week actually, but today was rough compared to most sessions you have. for some reason nothing was going as planned for jake. he had been pushing himself too hard recently. the anniversary of his brothers death was approaching. he could feel it within him. to distract himself he’d spend more hours than necessary training and practicing techniques. you decided today would be no better than ever to pull him away and help him relax.

the two of you were close. very close in fact. from the moment jake met you he knew you’d be someone permanent in his life. his immediate instinct was to protect you. it annoyed you how protective he was given the fact that you’ve been independent your whole life. but you soon grew a soft spot for him. nothing ever felt forced between you two. he could make you laugh for hours, telling you stories of how he lived as a human on earth. he is always there to listen to your concerns and worries. his reassurance helps you the most when you need it.

it doesn’t help that the man is extremely attractive either. you tried for the longest to ignore his impressionably good looks but soon gave up. you don’t even think he is aware of the impact he has on the other na’vi women. their sultry stares and quiet giggles amongst each other whenever he is present does not go unnoticed by you. it makes you upset. your tail starts flickering wildly behind you and your eyes turn to slits while you watch jake chat amongst the women without a single thought of any of them finding him attractive.

he is not yours.

you have to remind yourself often times than not. and yes the truth hurts but you couldn’t see him with anyone else except yourself. you couldn’t tell him that though. it would ruin everything. and besides, he is already arranged to marry the chiefs daughter.

neytiri.

that name is like molten lava spitting out of your mouth. just the thought of her makes your stomach churn. the thought of those two together makes you nauseous. you try to remove yourself from any situation that involves seeing her with jake. it’s like a jab at your heart whenever her name is mentioned around you. jake is yours.

no he isn’t!

you wish he was.

you were shaken out of your thoughts as you two finally approached your favorite spot.

the area was secluded. if it wasn’t for your discovery and frequent visits you would’ve thought nobody knew this place existed. beautiful trees were littered around the area while rocks of all shapes and sizes were sequenced around a large pond. the pond — which was more like a lake — was almost crystal clear and waist deep.

“wow—“ was the only word jake could muster as he took in the scenery. all of the purples and blues and pinks reflected off of his eyes and skin beautifully. your heart couldn’t help but flutter at the sight. you quickly coughed and looked away once he caught you staring. jake smirked playfully as a feeling of warmth washed over him. he noticed all of your lingering glances and content sighs when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. and boy did he love it.

“i come here when i need to escape” you stated, jumping off the small ledge you two were standing near. you expertly stepped over all of the bushes and pointy rocks that led towards the lake. you could hear jakes “ouch!”s and “ow!”s from behind you making you giggle softly.

you plopped down on a plot of grass and spread your legs out with a sigh of relief. jake stood over you instead of sitting down, his tail twitching out of curiosity as he looked around. you found yourself staring at him again.

your eyes started at his broad shoulders slowly trailing down his chest. you could see the sweat dripping down towards his navel. the sight made you cross your legs together tightly. his abdomen muscles clenched everytime he took in a breath making you lick your lips and take the bottom one in between your teeth.

he made a sudden movement which made you quickly snap your eye’s upward to make sure he didn’t catch you again. he was still looking off into the distance peacefully. he flipped his braid to the back of his head. you let out a quiet sigh and continued drinking in the sight of this beautiful creature.

your eyes traveled down to his tiny waist and further down to the loin cloth that left no room for imagination. you shook your head, not wanting to seem like a pervert and moved your eyes back up his long torso.

jake could feel your eyes burning holes into his upper abdomen. he didn’t mind though. he enjoyed your lingering eyes. in fact it kind of turned him on.

jake has been attracted to you since he first laid eyes on you. jake knew who you were long before you knew who he was. he had always thought you were beautiful. he would never tell you that though. he could tell you weren’t the type to just fall at a mans feet and be at his every beck and call. he admired that. your independence attracted him. once he got to know you, everything about you was attractive to him. he couldn’t get enough of you.

you.

always on his mind. it was like he was programmed to have his whole world revolve around you. when he wakes up in the morning and before he goes to bed at night, a picture of you flags his mind. he feels bad for neytiri. the woman he is supposed to mate with and marry. he explained these thoughts and feelings with her. at first she was angry but then she soon understood. neither of them could help the growing love and adoration he felt for you.

so neytiri and him decided that they wouldn’t have any relations with one another for as though it would be wasted potential. she hadn’t told her father yet but jake agreed to faking their relationship until she tells him the truth.

he has yet to tell you this information.

jake cleared his throat loudly making you completely break from your thoughts embarrassingly. you blushed fiercely and quickly looked away while jake chuckled.

“i hope you know you’re not the best at making sure im not paying attention while you thirst over me” he smirked, his eyes raking your body. you felt yourself shrink under his gaze and your cheeks get hotter.

“m-maybe i don’t care if you notice me ..” you lied. you cringed to yourself once you realized what you said and completely turned your body away from his out of embarrassment.

“it’s okay baby girl i don’t mind it, i’m used to it by now” he joked plopping down next to you. he grabbed your shoulder and turned you around in one quick motion. you cried out in embarrassment and covered your face.

“what do you mean by that?! actually please don’t tell me im so embarrassed!—“ you whined. you felt your heart swell as the sound of his laugh hit your ears. he thinks this is funny.

“it’s not funny jake!” you cried, slapping his hand that was currently gripping your shoulder while he erupted in laughter. your ears laid flat against your head and your tail flicked behind you as you rolled your eyes at the blue man.

after a while his laughter finally quieted down and he removed his hand from your shoulder. your stomach fluttered and you almost felt disappointed when you couldn’t feel his touch anymore.

he’s not yours.

“are you done now?” the question was answered by a quick nod of his head and you rolled your eyes playfully.

the silence between you was comfortable. it is so peaceful here.

“i appreciate you for bringing me here” he whispered. you didn’t notice he was looking at you until you turned your head and met his gaze. your eyes flickering between his eyes and lips.

“i could tell you needed to relieve some stress ” you replied, your eyes never leaving his.

“oh really?” he asked. your breath hitched as you noticed the distance between you two grow smaller. you couldn’t really read jakes eyes in this moment but from the flick of his tail you could sense he was nervous.

“jake ..” you whispered softly. his large hand gently cupped your jaw as he used the other to swipe a piece of hair out of your face. your skin felt hot from his touch. your mind was in a frenzy at this point and the atmosphere felt .. different. you watched jakes eyes dart from yours to your lips.

this is wrong. do you want to do this. should you be here with him right now? you’ve wanted this for so long though ..

“i can’t— i can’t, jake!” you shot up from your spot on the ground making him jump back in confusion.

“what about neytiri?” you uttered out. you raked his face for any answers but his expression of confusion never changed.

“what about neytiri?” he responded back. he stood up and stepped closer to you which made you take two steps back. you shook your head and turned your body slightly, a rush of emotions flooding your body.

“no! i will not be the reason you two do not marry! i forbid being a home wrecker let alone — the other woman!” you whispered the last part as if there were anyone else out there with the two of you. jake sighed and dropped his shoulders.

“you would not be the other woman. i talked to neytiri-“

“and?!”

“and—we are supposed to mate tonigh-“

“you’re mating with neytiri?! tonight?!! what the hell are you doing here with me then?!” your voiced roared as anger boiled inside of you. jake was caught off guard by your tone for as though he is not used to seeing you so upset. he then reached to grab your arm but you quickly jumped back. jake was now visibly frustrated with your defiance.

“would you just listen please?—me and neytiri were supposed to mate tonight but i told her i’m not interested”

your state of anger was quickly took over by confusion as you looked at jake curiously. your ears flopped down and your body slightly relaxed.

“you’re not mating with neytiri?” jake shook his head ‘no’ and took a cautious step closer. you let him take your hand and intertwine your fingers.

“i don’t want neytiri” he stated. his gaze was locked on yours as he gently squeezed your hand. his free hand played with the strands of hair that gently laid across your cheek. you searched his eyes for any sign of him being untrustworthy but you found nothing of the sort.

you took a deep breath and looked away, his eyes following your every move.

“s-so what does this mean? you have to choose somebody—to mate with—you have to choose somebody to mate with ..” you uttered out looking between him and your intertwined hands. jake looked away and sighed.

“i’ve already chosen”

you felt your heart race at the statement. a million questions running through that pretty little head. it couldn’t be you right?

jake pulled you closer by your waist, both of his hands now planted on either side of your hips. he stared down at you while he traced your hip with his thumb. you hesitated but then gently placed your hands on his chest. the skin was smooth against your finger tips.

“who is it?” you whispered. you don’t know why you feel nervous all of a sudden. it has to be you.

jake didn’t answer you. he grabbed the back of your head and leaned down, pressing his lips softly against yours. you were frozen for a few seconds before you began to kiss back.

suddenly everything felt surreal. all of the emotions you’ve felt came crashing down all at once. your whole body relaxed against his as you fell deeper into the kiss. your arms are now hanging loosely off of his shoulders, his hands on the small of your back.

the two of you are flush against each other. you could feel yourself getting more needy the longer his lips are against yours. every time either one of you pull away for a breath you get snatched right back in. the latter groans when you grab at the ends of his hair. you gently gyrate your hips against his making his eyes widen and him pull back to look at you.

“so beautiful” he murmured. the sight of your swollen wet lips and hazy eyes made his dick twitch underneath his loin cloth. you felt it too. you smirked and trailed a hand down his stomach, stopping at his waistband. you looked up at him with innocent eyes as you toyed with it. you watched as his breath hitched and he let out a subtle moan, his eyes were hooded and filled with lust.

ethereal.

“please..” he whimpered, pushing your hand over his growing bulge. you gasped audibly feeling how big he was through the cloth. meanwhile the na’vis eyes were rolled back as you palmed him through the thin cloth. his dick twitched with excitement as you began pressing kisses against his pecks.

“i need you” he whispered quietly while holding your wrist in his hand. your heart swelled as you left a soft kiss on his lips.

years of built up frustration. finally about to be released. the two of you were ecstatic. neither of you knew what to do first. you just knew you needed each other badly.

jake made the first move by grabbing the underside of your thighs and picking you up making you yelp. he chuckled softly as he wrapped your legs around his waist and knelt down in the grass, laying you gently on your back.

“i got you babygirl”

you gazed up at the man before you. you’ve never seen jake like this. the usually confident and serious man was now vulnerable under your touch. his eyes wandered your body in adoration. finally being able to look at you with full permission.

“you’re all i need, y/n. you’re all i’ve ever wanted in this life” he whispered against your lips before kissing you with so much passion you began to feel lightheaded. you moaned against his lips as the kiss became wet with your tongues fighting for dominance. you felt his tongue trace your fang making you whimper and buck your hips against his. jake growled and grabbed your thigh, hiking it up on his waist.

his hips fit more comfortably between your thighs. his covered groin was pressed right against your exposed heat making you whimper against his lips.

“please jake .. i need you” you moaned. jake began attacking your neck. suckling and nipping at the sensitive flesh. you couldn’t control your whimpers and whines as he pressed himself harder against you. his grip on your thigh became tighter the louder you got.

jake removed himself from your neck to quickly take off the clothing sat upon your aching breasts. jake smirked when he watched your nipples harden from being exposed to the cold air.

“you have such beautiful tits baby girl .. i could sit here and admire them all day” he moaned while taking your nipple in his mouth. your back arched off of the ground as you rutted against his dick again. jakes eyes rolled back while his tongue played with your nipple. he reached a hand between your thigh and pressed his fingers against your slick folds.

“you’re so fucking wet for me” he gasped. you could hear the slick wet noises as he rubbed his fingers against your core. you threw your head back with a pornographic moan as you gripped his arms between your fingers.

having enough of the barriers between you two, jake ripped off his loin cloth and gently pulled yours down your legs. your eyes were glued to his swollen manhood. you gulped at the sight.

jakes dick slapped against his stomach proudly. precum leaked from his angry tip. you could almost see it pulsing. jake pulled you away from your thoughts by pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“do you want this?” he asked. you’ve wanted this forever.

“yes jake. i want all of you” you whispered back. that’s all the reassurance he needed.

jake spit in his palm and slowly stroked his member while he watched you writhe beneath him. you were getting so desperate just sitting there watching him touch himself. you needed release. badly.

jake took notice and pressed his thumb against your clit moving circles against it ever so slightly. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you heard him grunt and moan above you.

“god i need you now” he whined. he rubbed his fat tip against your clit, the slickness smearing across his dick. if it wasn’t for self control he would have came right there.

“how are you so wet?” he asked with bewilderment as he stared at your clenching opening. you whined in response clenching your legs around his waist. you could feel your arousal dripping from your core and between your cheeks. you would be embarrassed right now if you weren’t so fucking horny.

jake teased a finger into your opening. the foreign feeling of his finger entering you made your body cringe. jake cooed and shushed your cries by gently caressing your cheek. he slipped his thumb into your mouth while slipping his ring finger into your tight hole. you moaned around his finger and sucked on it. he watched you with hungry eyes. he didn’t know what was more sexy; your tight cunt dripping and clenching his finger or you full lips sucking and licking on his thumb like your life depended on it.

“i can’t decide if i want to finish in that pretty little mouth of yours or your tight pussy” he hummed, entering another digit without you even noticing. you moaned in response too dazed to say anything. you were overwhelmed with the feeling of desire and also love. it felt like a dream.

once jake deemed you were ready to take the girth of his cock he slid his fingers out of your core and lathered his dick with the juices dripping from your pussy.

jake grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers before slowly entering you. you winced in pain from his big size. jakes body was flush against yours, his head buried in your neck while he nibbled at your shoulder. he began licking at the shell of your ear when he felt you writhing beneath him.

“shh i know baby, it’s okay” he cooed leaving kisses along your jawline. jake finally bottomed out inside you. he slowly moved his hips in circles, his dick fully sheathed inside of you. you clawed at his back in ecstasy. you felt the bulge of his dick in your stomach, the print getting more prominent the deeper he got.

“you feel so amazing” he moaned. his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he picked up his pace. the sounds of your pussy squelching and your pelvis slapping against his was bringing you closer to the edge.

“right there baby!” he gasped as you moved your hips against his. you looked up at him in awe as he had his jaw dropped and his eyes fluttered shut. hard pants were exchanged between the both of you. your whines were getting more high pitched the faster he went.

jake kept teasing your pussy. he’d pull all the way out til his tip was barely inside of you and slam right back into you. he repeated this multiple times before your grip on his back started to break skin.

you were getting so close. you could feel the warmth gather at the pit of your belly. your moans were pushing jake closer. you could tell by the way his eyes were rolled back and his thrusts began to get harder and more uncoordinated.

“cmon baby i know you can come for me—please come for me” he moaned into your ear. you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you dying to release. he wasn’t cumming until you came first.

your walls clenched around him tightly making his movements stutter before he picked up the pace again. jake moved your hand to your stomach placing it over the bulge of his cocking thrusting inside of you. he looked up at you with eyes that were almost the color of obsidian and purred deeply.

you felt your whole pussy spasm and your body shake as you let go. a scream slipped past your lips and your body fell flat against the grass as jake rode out your high. his grunts and moans getting louder and deeper. you could see your cream gathering at the base of his dick while he slid in and out of you.

with one last thrust jake shot his load deep inside of you moaning your name as he did so. he continued to fuck you until he rode out his high and then collapsed beside you. his breathing was heavy but his signature smile was still slapped across his face. he pulled your sweaty body closer until you were practically on top of him and then he placed a kiss on your forehead. you held him tightly as he rubbed your back lovingly.

“and by the way, y/n,

i chose you”.

————

#jake smut #jake sully #avatar #jake sully smut #neytiri #avatar smut #jake x reader #please #x reader #like pls #neteyam #fluff #pls read #angst #sub jake #jake sully x reader #jake sully x fem reader

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2queenofmayhem2 · 7 months ago

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Intruxx by Glass Animals

Hey, hey! This is just a shitty little beginning to a story I was talking about where it’s Sagau but the characters know you aren’t the creator, but the player. It’s similar, but I’m definitely gonna change some things later on in the story. Hooray…also, this was written and posted on my phone cause I don’t have my computer with me rn, so ignore the typos pls

Hello?

It’s so cold… Why can’t I open my eyes?

Please! Please…

You lurched forward, mouth agape while desperately gasping for air. The cold hits you hard, making your already dry throat ache even more. Snow gently wafted down with the wind. This caught you off guard, and grounded you for a second as you stared in slight awe and exasperation. Wherever you were, it clearly wasn’t your home. Again, your heart beat faster, as if it was going to explode.

Eventually, you dragged yourself up with numb hands and shaking legs. Carefully stepping forward, you wiped the few stray tears from your eyes and trudged forward through the snow towards the barely visible path leading down. YOur eyes trailed across the patches of grass coated in snowflakes. If you turned to your left, there was a path trailed up and disappeared into a cover of trees and a whirlwind of snow. To your left, there was another that did the same. You begin walking aimlessly downward, pausing every now and again to take a deep breath, and calm down. This gave you a chance to look over the cliffside towards a distant city that peeked around the mountain. It just made your head spin more, so much so that you slipped while leaning against a rocky wall. The stone dug deep into the delicate flesh of your palm. You yelped, before cradling it with your uninjured hand. Warm red blood pooled like a cruel waterfall onto the once pristine white snow. You shuddered one long breath when tears began to fall, clinging to your lashes and streaming down your face. You hated this feeling. At the same time, you didn’t know what else to do. You were on a frigid mountain where you were 100% sure you had already gotten frostbite, and everything that could hurt did, especially your head.

Grumbling incoherent curses under your breath, you stand again. You had soaked your jacket from the way your injured hand clung to the inside of your pocket. You knew it was better to not take it off and risk getting even colder, even if it was to stop the bleeding, so that would have to work for now. The blood tainted the dark fabric a gross brown-ish-red. Suddenly, there was a nauseating stress burrowing into the pit of your stomach the farther you went down. Hopefully, it was just your paranoia, but it could be anything in this situation.

You took a glance back up after what was at least 10 minutes, and your eyes immediately widen. Fumbling back, you nearly fall again, but catch yourself on a tree. After quickly wiping your eyes, you squint up, then widen your eyes again as if to get all points of view of this thing.

No way.

Before you, a girl skipped down the mountain without a care in the world. The most notable feature was the bright red dress and fluffy little companion in her hands. You knew this girl all too well, but it didn’t give you any comfort. Rather, the sight of Klee, a game character that shouldn’t exist, gave you the exact opposite feeling. There were many more questions than answers at this point. God, your head was spinning. In a very confusing moment, you slump to the ground, and pass out.

A small hand prods the figures side, then jumps back with a yelp at the sight of the red blood. “Fascinating…”Another murmured.

#It’s kinda ass but ehh #Sagau but not #x reader #sagau #sagau x reader #I’ll fix it later

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itskindofidontknow · 1 year ago

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What dreams know about love?

Chapter 3

Dream of The Endless/Morpheus x Love!OFC

Summary: The Queen of Love has grown used to the absence of her husband, the Dream King. After banning her from the Dreaming, they only saw each other when Morpheus summoned her for social or marital duties. He would go decades without calling for her, enamorated by a variety of mistresses. It broke Love's heart. Not that her husband cared. However, after being imprisioned for a century, The Dream King wants to regain his Queen's love. She doesn't believe him, not after centuries of neglect. The question is: Can dreams repair a broken heart?

Tag: Established relationship, arranged marriage, regency romance, eventual happy ending, angst, morpheus is a dick prepare to hate, love is eoster from west germanic mythology, typos are to be expected

"Why is she taking so long? " Elijah walked in circles impatient and worried for the Queen of Love. The cupid cursed himself for letting her go without company. Technically he couldn't stop her, but he regretted not being more convincing in persuading her not to go right away! Gods only know how awful Dream's humor might be.

" Will you please calm down? They are probably in each other's arms, making up for the lost time" The tall long figure with golden eyes and blond almost silver hair, joked while leaning against the pink wall in the small study room. He couldn’t deny he was enjoying seeing the cupid fussing over nothing. Dream and Love were stuck in a, ironically, loveless marriage, but the Emissary knew the Dream King was not villainous. He witnessed it first hand when Desire, the Emissary’s creator, set the marriage trap for his sibling. Morpheus could’ve killed Love before they exchanged vows, he could’ve freed himself, but he didn’t. The Emissary never understood why, after all Lady Love did not represent anything to him. Obviously Morpheus was aware of her existence and her well documented beauty, everyone was, but they never exchanged more than polite greetings.

“This is not funny.” Elijah didn’t even bother to look up, he knew the Emissary for over a century now, and just by his answer he could tell that the Emissary was having a fun little time watching his lover panic. Elijah loved the Emissary with all his heart, not that he would ever say it. After all, he knew Desire’s creatures treated love like leverage over an opponent. The cupid wasn’t stupid to give the Emissary the upperhand. So one could safely say, they were very fond of each other. But, every time there was a crisis, Elijah wanted to strangle him. The Emissary constantly jested at the most inappropriate times (like now), and would not take important matters (like this) seriously.

Right now, however, Elijah did not have the time to lecture his lover about times and places for jokes. " I should send a dove to Lucienne. Get me some paper." The Emissary raised an eyebrow "And ask what, exactly?” He cleared his throat imitating Elijah writing a letter “ 'Dear Lucienne, blessings from the Garden. How is the reunion? Is the whole palace staff blushing from hearing all the happy screams the Dream King is getting from our Queen? Tell me all the delicious details. May Love guide you, The Queen’s Lucienne'". The Emissary signed his invisible letter with the title the dreamfolk gave to Elijah (which he hated it).

The cupid ignores him, rolling his eyes and taking a deep breath, scanning through his desk looking for paper and a feather. "Something could've happened, you know. Don’t you remember the last time they saw each other?” It was a disaster in the Garden. The Queen was in such a miserable state, distraught, exasperated and resentful, that storms took over the whole kingdom, and anyone who got closer to the Queen, would have his eyes filled with tears, even if they did not want to weep. To feel the creator's emotions in such a way, was unprecedented. “ We don't know how he is, moodwise." Elijah's stopped, with a sudden realization "We should go to the Dreaming."

It didn’t matter how loony this idea sounded, Desire’s Emissary knew that when the brown haired cupid decided, he would do it. No matter, again, how stupid the idea was. And go to The Dreaming uninvited, with a probable quarrel coming, it was without a doubt the worst idea the Emissary has ever heard.

Elijah was devoted to the Love Queen, always worrying for her, for her safety, her happiness, and although he knew the Queen was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and deep down aware that the Dream King wouldn't physically hurt her (Not the same could be said about emotional damage, since the king has done a number on his queen), Elijah knew how demanding and manipulative Morpheus could be, making Eoster feel guilty and responsible about a misery he was responsible to. Their marriage wasn't fair, never was. It killed Elijah seeing Eoster hiding her pain, something she became so proficient in hiding. The disappearance of Lord Morpheus came as a blessing in disguise for the lovefolk. Yes, their Queen was still stuck in a terrible marriage, but at least, he wasn’t around anymore. She now had some peace, some comfortable loneliness, away from the pain.

The Emissary stepped in front of Elijah grabbing his arms, stopping the cupid. Elijah was already grabbing his messenger bag, with determination in his eyes. The Emissary stared deep into his brown eyes, trying to fill some sense in such a heart-guided creature. "No we won't. Are you insane? If we dare to step in the Dreaming without invitation, Morpheus will have our heads. Especially mine." The Emissary pointed to the golden iris, in case Elijah had forgotten whose creation his lover was. " He might spare you, if Eoster, and I doubt it, is able to persuade him. But I am as good as dead. Besi-"

A knock on the door made the two of them fall silent, staring at the door, looking like two children misbehaving. They looked at each other. It wasn't Love, she never knocked. The Dream King never stood foot in the Garden. Both Elijah and the Emissary were in accord that even if he did, he wouldn't be knocking on doors. A second knock came. Both looking fearfully at the door, trying to silently impose to the other to open it and face whatever was on the other side. ' You open it!' Elijah mouthed to the Emissary who vividly shook his head, denying it. "This is your study, you open it!" The mute discussion continued until a third knock came. They made a ridiculous quick rock-paper-scissors game to which Elijah lost and went to open the door. They had no idea who it might be, but due to the current events, they doubt it would be good news.

" Ye- Lucienne?"

"How are you Elijah?" The librarian looked over her glasses to the brown haired young man, and to the study behind him. He standed still, blocking the entrance, and when he didn't invite her in, she slowly started to say "Are you not going to-" Elijah blinked twice before quickly making way for the woman, brushing off the shock.

Lucienne stood in the middle of the office, raising an eyebrow to the Emissary, taking notice of his golden pupils. He, on the other hand, made an extravagant courtesy, giving her a wink with a cheshire smile, to which she rolled her eyes "Lady Lucienne, blessings from the Garden" Elijah rolled his eyes and held himself not to sigh. "Emissary, leave us, please" the lover got up and danced his way out "It is time indeed that I celebrate the return of our dearest Dream K-" Elijah closed the door before he could finish, murmuring a 'sorry' to the librarian, offering her a seat. "Blessings from the Garden, Lucienne. It is such a joy our Lord Morpheus has returned." He said, no real meaning behind his words. Lucienne nodded with a brief polite smile. "Tea? We got an excellent lovers dance tea." Elijah offered while putting himself a cup. She raised her hand, thanking but denying. Elijah was dying to ask her a thousand questions, but professionalism wouldn't allow him.

"Has our Lady returned yet?" She asked. Elijah shook his head, it would be extremely abnormal if she returned and not met him immediately. "Well, then I will be the messenger of more than just one news.” She cleared her throat looking from her knees to the cupid, clearly uncomfortable “Lady Eoster and Lord Morpheus decided for new arrangements." And by that, she meant Dream decided and Love abided. As usual. Elijah noticed the librarian moving on her seat. "I see" the brown haired man said it encouraging her to continue, she took a deep breath before announcing "Lord Morpheus wishes Lady Eoster to move back to the Dreaming" Elijah blink, as the words the woman said were a foreign language he could not understand. "Pardon? For the night, you mean?" Sure it was what she meant. He just didn’t understand why Lucienne had to come all the way to inform him of that.

Actually he was probably way better versed in this than her. Since it was the cupid that in the next morning had to deal with a Queen pretending not to be hurt, rereading for the thousand time the same love stories of mortals that were faithful and devoted to each other, the ones that went through hell to be with their loved ones, the ones that lived everything she could never lived. Those were days devoid of music and poetry, with grayish melancholic skies . Elijah was sure Lucienne didn’t have the same problems in the Dreaming.

The night would probably require a new bridal nightgown (another problem Elijah knew Lucienne did not had), since the ones the king didn’t tear apart, the Queen burned. Especially the ones she got as honeymoon gifts. The cupid's thoughts turned to how he would find a seamstress in short notice who wasn't full of requests, since the Solstice festival was upon them. Of course, he could send a regular nightgown, but what if the Dream King took that as an insult? Poor Lady Eoster would be the one that would hear it.

Lucienne closed her eyes, gathering strength to explain to him. Elijah was a good cupid, but he often had too many questions and wanted too many explanations. "Lord Morpheus wishes Lady Eoster to be at his side, as husband and wife, king and queen, at the Dreaming. Not only for…" She kept struggling with the right words, after all, even for a royal librarian, it was extremely challenging to find the appropriate words to discuss intimate details of her king and queen marriage “ Marital duties”. She was definitely not cut for these types of arrangements and discussions.

Elijah kept looking at the woman, but could not manage to find answers. To avoid the awkward silence, she kept talking, maybe he was not aware of the politics of it, that in theory it wasn’t really a request. Lady Love didn’t have the option to deny her husband. "Since he is an Endless-" Elijah interrupted her abruptly, shaking his hand in dismissal "Yes, yes, I am aware of the politics of it all" He reclined in his chair, only to raise his back again, not able to stay quiet "Did he really said it?" She tilted her head. "Well, our Ladyship was the one who approached me, as instructed by Lord Morpheus, to make new arrangements.” He knew what the words meant, but it sounded like delusions of a crazy mortal. “Of course she did." He sighed.

Lucienne frowned, not sure if she liked his tone and what he was implying about her lord, but at the same time, could she blame the lovefolk for holding grudges against Lord Morpheus? “Lady Love requested that we both worked together to make the transition smoother.” Elijah frowned, “What transition?” Lady Love already had her private chambers in the Dreaming “The Garden’s court. They both agree that her court should accompany her to the Dreaming”. Elijah was speechless, and almost choked on his tea. “Also, the Solstice Festival." She gathered inner strength for she did not know how the cupid would react to this. The color of the cupid’s face was already gone with the court thing, and now the festival? Festivities were sacred in the Garden. To move or change them… Well, Lucienne could only hope that cupids’ hearts were strong. “Our Lady and Lordship want it to be held at the Dreaming. We also need to send invitations to the Endless siblings.”

First Elijah was speechless, and then he laughed. He laughed so hard tears got into his eyes. "You are a jester, Lucienne! Or is it the Emissary's work? For Love’s sake!” He was incredulous. “The court? His siblings?!" Thanks to his relationship with the Emissary he knew that Morpheus hated dealing with some of his siblings, especially Desire and Despair. To host them all under his realm during the Solstice Festival was unimaginable! Elijah couldn’t imagine him hosting a festival, laughing, dancing, enjoying any sight of happiness and joy, let alone being a gentle host to his family. Lucienne's face kept unchanged, with a slight discomfort. She would let his senses fall back into himself.

Slowly Elijah saw that Lucienne was not cracking with the joke nor did the Emissary returned mocking the cupid stupid shocked face. "You are not jesting." She nodded. " What happened to him? Is he really himself?" Elijah asked even if it was inappropriate. After all these years! Of course he thought it was a joke, that request was an insult! He deserved some answers, his queen deserved some answers! She sure would not get them from Morpheus. So it was his job to get them from Lucienne.

Would they just pretend that the years of misery did not exist?! Would she simply have to forgive the abuse, just because the Dream King is going through some middle life crisis and realized that maybe, just maybe, he should not be a dick to his own wife?! No, no, there must be some explanation, some reason to this. Cupids were not the most rational creatures, but for Love’s sake! To just accept this was delusional!

Lucienne didn't like to gossip, especially about her boss, but she knew the cupid, if she didn't give him some answers, he would not leave her be "I don't know for certain, and I should not tell you this, but our lordship was trapped by a mortal, for a hundred years. Jessamy, his raven, died. Many deserted the Dreaming." Elijah took a minute absorbing the information. An Endless captured by a mortal. A hundred years is nothing for them, but a hundred years away from his realm and his dreamfolk, unable to leave, ‘unable to cheat’ Elijah bitterly thought to himself. He pitied the souls of the fools who imprisoned him. They were going to wish for death.

The cupid took a minute digesting that information before clearing his throat " Then we must make haste." Unlike the Garden, Dreaming was not famous for hosting events. Elijah doubted it ever held one. "You must know, Lucienne, that the Solstice Festival is one of the most important events for our Lady and the lovefolk. It is the graduation of the senior ladies and lords in waiting, that came from different realms to learn the ways of the heart." Elijah didn't want to panic nor panic Lucienne, because it would not help, but perfection was imperative. Even after organizing it for centuries, it was always a handful. And by just imagining the next few weeks trying to fit all the arrangements in the Dreaming. Gods! His head was already aching. "I hope you had your rest over these hundred years, dear Lucienne, because we won't have much during the preparations. Follow me, please.” With a sudden jump, Elijah was at his feat, making his way through the door. Turning back to the woman “I am sure our lordship is a magnificent host, as you are in organizing events” Elijah politely said, even though it was a blatant lie, but, he didn’t want Lucienne to think the lovefolk took the dreamfolk as social incompetents (Although they were certainly of it) “But since festivities in the Garden have their own… Etiquette, you might want to take notes."

Lucienne however stood sit " There is one more thing, Elijah.'' He froze already at the door slowly turning to her. Shit. Did the Dream King sneak into his dreams and found out that he wasn't the most devoted subject of his? After being imprisoned by mortals, he sure would be in mood for revenge and eliminate traitors. Maybe Elijah was next. Maybe this was the reason Lucienne needed to learn how to organize the Solstice Festival, because Elijah would not be around. Could Lady Love stop him? "Lord Morpheus wants to see you."

Elijah raised his eyebrows in surprise. After all, the Dream King and he never exchanged more than what formalities required of them. It wasn't common for the right arms of entities to have close relationships with other entities. The Emissary was an ambassador from Desire to the Garden, but he was not close with Lady Love, he treated her with the respect her rank required, but nothing more. Lucienne and the Queen developed some kind of friendship, but neither Love or Lucienne ever forgot that Lucienne was Dream's right arm, not Love's.

" Any idea what this unexpected audience is about?" The woman raised herself and walked to the cupid. She signed and shrugs, honestly, Lucienne had no idea what her Lord wanted to discuss, after all he would be too busy rebuilding the Dreaming to arrange the Solstice Festival, so what was the need in talking to Elijah? Her shock when Dream asked for a meeting with the cupid was similar to Elijah's. “ I am not sure.” The woman paused, with her hands on her back, speaking with honesty “He is not the same, Elijah. He…” The librarian, even with her extensive knowledge of words, and complicated descriptions of feelings she read in the book of mortal’s lives, could not define how Morpheus had changed. But he was not the same King as before. “He changed”

That was not the first time the cupid had heard this. Only now, Lucienne was saying it, not his Queen. He couldn’t count the amount of times Lady Love grew full of hope believing her husband had changed his way. Elijah gave Lucienne a wary look “And did our lordship mention when this audience will be occurring?” Elijah was not convinced by this ‘changed-for-the-better’. The cupid doubted the raven’s haired King would ever be anything but stoic, cold and distant, incapable of giving Eoster the love she deserved. “He is going to summon you, after resolving some pressing matters.”. The brown haired cupid took everything in him not to ask what those ‘pressing matters’ were about, and simply nodded in agreement, before guiding Lucienne out of his study, and to the hallways.

He shook his head trying to ignore the itching of his curiosity. After all, he and Lucienne had many pressing matters that could not be disturbed by discussing possible character growths of the Endless. They had a festival, in a realm that never held one, to be organized. In one week. Gods may help them. Because damn well no Endless will.

#the sandman #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless fanfic #morpheus x reader #morpheus x wife #morpheus x ofc #dream of the endless x reader #lord morpheus #eoster #queen of love #sandman netflix #what dreams know about love?

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lizdive · 4 months ago

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Heyy!! May i request father figure gallagher with a teenager reader who gets bullied and is stuck in a toxic friendship. For example how would he help reader out of the toxic friendship? And what would he do against the bullying?

(sorry my english sucks)

Gn or F reader n' platonic ofc

Don’t worry anon you’re english is amazing <33 To anyone who’s in a toxic friendship, please know it’s important to always think about yourself first. Cut off anyone who brings negativity in your life because you’ll find those who will bring positivity in your life one day and it’ll be worth it !! Thank you for requesting and if you’re unsatisfied tell me and I’ll redo it <33

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a teenager ,, bullying and toxic behavior from others ,, platonic relationships ,, it’s implied Gallagher only exists in the dreamscape snd reader is in both reality and dreamscape ,, idk if penacony has school ?? ,, hopefully i did this right ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Taking you in as his own was probably GALLAGHER’s best choice in life. You were a good kid — at least around him — and you didn’t cause much trouble around the bar as you helped him out.

⭑ GALLAGHER wasn’t too involved in your social and school life if you have one. Do as you please as long as you get decent grades (he cared more for your health than some numbers) and be friends with whoever you want to he as long as they do you no harm. If you’re happy and content, he’s happy and content.

⭑ So when you begin to return to the bar looking a bit upset, he got worried. "Hey kid, you okay?" He’ll ask, but when you dodge the question and change the subject or tell him you’re fine he’ll get even more worried. He won’f push but he’ll be more attentive to your behavior.

⭑ GALLAGHER will notice how your confidence dims with every time you enter the bar. He’ll notice how you’re more attentive to your phone as if waiting for a specific notification and how you get even more upset when it never comes.

⭑ How you tell him you’ll be hanging out with your 'friends' only for you to show up at the bar to help out, telling him that they canceled or forgot to tell you the time or some other dumb excuse that has him irritated and annoyed with your so called 'friends'.

⭑ As states above, he isn’t too involved with your social life. However he can see how your 'friends' are just using you and discarding you and how they doesn’t even try to hide their blatant lack of care. They don’t appreciate what you do for them and do not reciprocate it.

⭑ It’s when you bring your 'friends' to hang out at the bar that he watched firsthand as they disrespect you — be it by violating your physical boundaries, making mean jokes at your expense, making you get their drinks, etc.

⭑ Whenever you try to call them out they guilt trip you and gaslight you, painting you as the one in the wrong even though you’re as innocent as an angel.

⭑ GALLAGHER will step in the second he sees their unacceptable behavior. He might be a bit petty and purposefully make their drinks wrong or bad. He’ll keep a close eye on them which will make them quiet down since he’s giving them a mean glare whenever they say something mean. However if it gets too bad that they’re hitting you as a so called 'joke' then he’ll confront them face to face.

⭑ He’ll try not to cause a scene, especially if you’re present (he’d confront them if you were somewhere else like in the restroom or smth), but if they’re being difficult he won’t hesitate to just kick them out. He has experience as a security officer.

⭑ If you get upset, he’ll try to comfort you and make you understand why he kicked them out / made them leave.

⭑ If they try to curse you out via calls or messages they won’t be able to do so. GALLAGHER will encourage you to block them and deleting their numbers from your phone. He might even do it himself.

⭑ "Their number was deleted off your phone? Huh, that’s weird," He says, knowing damn well he was the one who deleted their numbers from your phone while you were in the back room getting some ingredients.

⭑ If you’re scared because they might do something bad to you, he’ll make sure you’ll stay safe so don’t worry. He has his ways. Also if you don’t know how to fight he’ll teach you so you can defend yourself should they try to gang up on you.

⭑ They were your only friends? Hey, don’t be upset. Penacony is a big place with a huge hotel filled with so many different people that would be blessed to be your friend. You’ll find the right people, and he’ll help you if you’re not a social person!

⭑ GALLAGHER will also scare off any bullies that you tell him about.

⭑ If their words get to you and you feel insecure, GALLAGHER will be there to comfort you and reassure you that you’re handsome/beautiful/pretty/etc. just the way you are. You don’t need to change anything. Those people are just jealous of how talented you are.

⭑ The people at the bar will probably also protect and comfort you. A friend (or in this case kid) of GALLAGHER is a friend of theirs. They’ll compliment you on your looks, your personality, your skills — trust that you’re confidence will be built back up pretty quickly.

#🪽 ☆ LIZDIVE #ᡣ𐭩 — ROBIN’S WRITING !!#ᡣ𐭩 — ROBIN’S STARS !!#Gallagher hsr #gallagher honkai star rail #gallagher x reader #Honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

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douglysium · 7 months ago

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Episode 12 TMP Quick Thoughts

Housekeeping and Prologue

Hello, this is Douglysium and you might not know me as that guy who wrote over 100 pages of analysis on the Eye (which can be read on Tumblr here (https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/735599414228484097/the-relationships-between-the-dread-powers-the) or Google Docs here (The Relationships Between the Dread Powers: The Eye- Knowledge is Fear and Ignorance is Bliss)) or as that guy who wrote an article on the Extinction (which can be read on Tumblr here(https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/717929126195003392/what-would-avatars-of-the-extinction-be-like-a) and Google Docs here(What would Avatars of the Extinction be like?: A TMA Speculation)). Suffice to say I might be a bit of a TMA fan. Also, spoilers for TMP up until episode 10. You can read my ramblings on the last episode here (Episode 11 TMP Quick Thoughts).

However, Protocol offers a very unique opportunity and experience for me because I didn’t actually get into TMA until after it was over and I binged all of it. So this is my first time experiencing something even remotely similar to what the original TMA fans probably experienced when waiting for each episode week by week and slowly having to put everything together with the limited information they had. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring since this might be my only chance to do something similar. However, I’m working on some longer form TMA content so I can’t spend as much time on these articles giving a bunch of super detailed thoughts. I will try to keep these short and that inevitably might mean some could have questions about why I think or predict certain things and in those cases I would probably recommend you read at least some of the two articles I mentioned above to get a better idea of where I’m coming from. This also means I won’t be giving you a play-by-play of every single thing that happens in the episode so I encourage you to listen to or read them yourselves and feel free to comment if you feel something is important.

These reviews are probably going to end up focusing mostly on the Entities and their manifestations as they are what I have thought about the most and spent the most time interpreting and there’s been a lot of… interesting theories floating around about how the Entities are manifesting that I want to go over.

Finally, I’m just going to say it right now, spoiler warning for all of The Magnus Archives. I know that Jon and co said one could start with Protocol and be fine, and while that’s probably true, media like this tends to be made in conversation with or take into consideration what came before it in the irl chronology in order to connect them. While I’m sure you could skip The Magnus Archives, I don't really see the point of skipping over it when we are already getting characters from TMA showing up in TMP in Protocol. So to me it’s pretty clear that if we want to understand the full picture of TMP and all the things it is trying to say then we can’t just try to pretend TMA doesn’t exist or scrub it away. Just because you could understand what’s happening without the context in broad strokes doesn’t mean you're getting all the nuances.

These articles are meant to be quick and short so sorry if there’s typos and if I don’t address every possible question or possibility. I don’t want to repeat myself too much in this series outside of the prologue so be sure to skim some of my other articles.

Episode 12 “Getting Off”

I think this episode is definitely one of the more straightforward Protocol episodes we have gotten so far, so hopefully this Quick Thoughts won’t br too long (but knowing me I probably just jinxed it).

We take in the scene through a CCTV in the breakroom of the OIAR at night. The transcripts clarify that Celia is very tired and searching through the cupboards for something and it is quickly made apparent that she is looking for tea and, since the break room has run out, Sam gives Celia a teabag from a secret stash that he apparently has. Sam then asks Celia out on a date and while she is busy at the moment she does show that she is willing to go out with Sam on “Saturday, 6? under the clock at Leicester Square. That work? We’ll go for dinner- well, breakfast- you know what I mean.” Once again, we see that the OIAR jobs appear to be very exhausting and have odd work hours. I also wonder what Celia’s end goal is. Does she genuinely like Sam or does she see him as means to an end. Is Celia here to help Sam and co or is she here to harm them?

As Celia leaves, Alice walks in and proceeds to make fun of Sam for clearly being extremely nervous as he asked out Celia. Alice says “(normal again) You know it’s rude to have absolutely no game? Christ, all these years and you still ask people out like a baby foal learning to tapdance.” A reference to the fact that she and Sam dated at some point, and how Sam probably acted very similarly when trying to ask her out. Sam does point out “Look it worked didn’t it?” which seems like it could be a sort of double meaning. Sam’s nervous approach got Celia to agree to a date but also Alice presumably agreed to go out with him in the past too.

Sam apologizes to Alice for dragging her to the ruins of the Institute only to fund nothing… well nothing Sam and Alice know about since something escaped the Institute. Sam says he’s done with Magnus stuff and Alice responds with “So you’re telling me that if I had a case full of emails with the title “Magnus Institute re: Samama Khalid – Massive Conspiracy” you wouldn’t be tempted?” to which Sam says no before asking “You don’t, though. Do you? That was just, like, a joke. Right?” Alice then says “Come on, for now let’s just focus on getting you as jaded and apathetic as possible.” Considering that Alice does appear to be pretty jaded about listening to the cases and piecing them together this could be related to her point about ignoring the talkers and not getting caught up in thinking too much about what’s happening.

NORRIS starts expositing the next case

“Claim Review: EL-56920

Policy Holder: Soho Jack’s Ltd.

Policy Number: 548651-656

Policy Type: Employers’ Liability

Site Address: Soho Jack’s, 9 Carlisle St, London W1D 3BK

Affected Employee: Ms. Jordan Bennett

Date of Incident: 9 March 2024

Incident Location: On site.

Documentation: Crime Report – Submitted

Medical Practitioner Report – Submitted

Incident Book Entry – Submitted First Aider’s Report – Submitted

Supervisor’s incident Report - Submitted

HSE communications - Submitted

Health-And-Safety policies - Submitted

Employment Contract - Submitted

Claim Valuation: £1,560,000 Assessment

Conclusion: Claim Denied Reason: Fraudulent claim (see incident description and police report)”

This, along with some information Jordan mentions later, means Jordan is suing Soho Jack’s Ltd. They go on to say that their lawyer has advised them to cooperate with Soho Jack’s insurance claim as a show of good faith, even if they’re planning on “suing your asses to kingdom-come.” They start recounting an event that occurred on the company’s property and apologize for their terrible handwriting (which we later learn is probably because Mr. Bonzo bit off one of their hands).

They go over how they started working at Jack’s in the spring of 2021 after they had finished Flair Academy. After struggling to find a job they managed to get an interview and then job at the aforementioned Jack’s. The club seems to have a good reputation as Jordan refers to it as “the Soho Gentleman’s club.” The company’s building “...has dances on the bottom two floors with VIP suites for hire above with a dedicated bouncer keeping them separate. Really, it’s just a quieter box with a private bar, some comfy chairs and the option of private dancers.” Despite this being “THE” Soho Gentleman’s club Jordan says “It’s always booked up with swank dickheads trying to show off, but Stags are the worst: they’re cheap, they’re loud, they drink too much, tip too little and only ever hire one dance for the groom. Plus there’s always some “nice guy” that won’t shut up about exploitation without even bothering to stop staring.”

Jordan begins to explain how the party the specific party that led to them wanting to sue Jack’s. They state that this specific party’s lot was not the worst and were “Just a bunch of heavyset, middle-aged lads with names like Ozzer, or Rozzer or whatever. ” and notes that “The groom was fine, acted embarrassed even though he was obviously keen and they were easily pleased. ”

“They started giving the groom gifts. Same old tat as always, cufflinks, poo gags, all the standard stuff. Then the groom spotted the last one on the table, this cheap yellow and purple kids lunch box. It looked old and shoddy and no one admitted to bringing it but the groom just squealed with glee and carefully opened it before pulling out a bunch old souvenir merch. Pencils, postcards, keyrings, all sorts of crap, all the same yellow and purple and last of all a cracked CD case. When they saw it the whole bunch gave this big laughing cheer.” I have talked about how I think Mr. Bonzo is probably tied to The Stranger if we view him through the lens of Smirke’s 14. I will retread some of those reasons later but right now I want to point out that no one admitted to bringing the Bonzo CD. It could simply be that it’s a prank and someone happened to grab an artifact or something tied to Bonzo, and maybe someone from the OIAR even planted it there, but it could also be connected to the idea of The Stranger and the fear of the unknown because it could be that no one actually knows who got that CD.

We also know that The Stranger is no… stranger to dropping off or delivering strange artifacts in order to feed on the fear of people interacting with unknown /mysterious objects. Breekon and Hope’s delivery service are a good example of this (strangers that show up and drop off never before seen or uncanny objects and artifacts).

“I could see which way the wind was turning and sure enough the bestman came over and asked if he could play it. The cover had this awful comic sans title: “Mr. Bonzo’s On His Way” and I wasn't exactly thrilled by this.” Jordan explains that “Mr. Bonzo was way before my time and from what I had seen online he had always looked pretty messed up. But hey, it was their night, if they wanted to spend it on some cringy nostalgia trip, who was I to say no?” Which could mean that Jordan doesn’t know a lot about Mr. Bonzo, and lack of familiarity with something is one of the things that we know entities like The Stranger love to prey on.

“This kind of thing happened often enough that we kept a battered old CD Player in the back that we could patch into the room's speakers, just in case. So, I ducked back there, put it on, turned the volume down as low as I could get away with, and prayed it wasn’t too obnoxious. Immediately the cheering children’s voices blared out the speakers accompanied by bouncy tubas loud enough to drown out the rest of the club’s music. It was awful but I could hear the lads stamping the floor in rhythm and as the kids started singing the men were singing along: “Mr. Bonzo’s on his way, he wants to stay, he wants to play! Mr. Bonzo’s on his way, he wants to stay, he wants to play!” If you want to listen to the song Jordan is referring to it is actually available on Youtube: Mr Bonzo (from 'The Magnus Protocol'). Maybe you can put yourself in the shoes of an annoyed Jordan or ecstatic old man at the club.

Jordan clearly finds the song annoying and after waiting a minute, in order to avoid being a “total killjoy,” they decide to turn off the song before “ Derek came down from the office to “have a word.” I assume Jordan meant Derek would complain about the music. However, when Jordan turns the CD player off it “...just grew louder, rattling the glassware in the bar: “Mr. Bonzo’s on his way, he wants to stay, he wants to play!” I even yanked the cables from the speakers, but it just kept getting louder.” Obviously, something supernatural is going on but Jordan reasonably assumes that the player just broke and begins to reach for their walkie talkie in order to call for some tech support. However, as they do so they are interrupted by a massive crash coming from another part of the room followed by a cheer. Jordan gets ready to reprimand the party goers for whatever mess they might have made but instead sees Mr. Bonzo. “It was hunched in the doorway, a bulbous figure with a purple hat that cast crazed shadows in all directions thanks to the club’s lighting effects. Then it doffed its hat and pushed itself into the room, foam catching on the doorframe with a squeak that set my teeth on edge. Its massive bulbous google-eyes seemed to roam all over the room before settling on the groom and it was almost as if the huge toothy grin grew wider when it saw him.” We know that Gwen delivered a name and address to Bonzo and in the previous episode Lena even tells Gwen “I’m sure you’ve already worked that out. But just in case you haven’t, keep an eye on the case loads over the next few days. It should become abundantly clear.” Implying that this could be the case Lena was alluding to or that the groom (or someone else in the room) is Bonzo’s target (but it’s almost definitely the groom).

Everyone in the room assumes the appearance of Bonzo is some sort of gift or prank and “The rugby boys were tripping over themselves to get in and hug it, laughing and pushing the groom to the front and so I figured at that point it was a prank. Again, none of them took credit for it and there was a moment of genuine hesitation, until one of them yelled out “It's ya lapdance, Baz!” and they all fell about laughing.” Jordan is furious that a coworker named Joey presumably let Bonzo in and the idea that Joey might have bailed on Jordan again by “ducking out for a smoke.” But as Jordan moves forward they notice something- “I began to stride over, readying for the inevitable complaints then hesitated as I saw something far more unnerving than the ugly costume that was capering with the groom in the middle of the group. There was a pair of heavy boots on their side, poking just inside the still open doorway. Joey’s boots, and they weren't moving. Just then the google eyes looked turned to me, and a puffy finger raised cheekily to its mouth.” So Joey was killed by Bonzo and all the while “the men had all started chanting “Bonzo! Bonzo! Bonzo”, stamping their feet and banging the tables in a circle around the pair in the center…” and the music kept getting louder. So loud that it began to sound distorted from the strain the song was putting on the speakers.

Out of all the Entities the Slaughter seems to have a pretty strong connection to music but The Stranger also has a strong precedent for music. For example, The Calliope in TMA is an artifact tied to The Stranger. In MAG 024 (Strange Music) it is mentioned that the instrument has "Be still, for there is strange music" carved into the cover of the keyboard. While The Slaughter’s connection to music is probably due to an association between rhythm and war (think the marching of an army or the phrase “drums of war”) as well as the fear of “violent” music, The Stranger’s connection to music seems to come from the idea of either strange unknown sounds or a song / sound that sounds really uncanny. It is noted by Jordan that Mr. Bonzo’s song grows louder and more distorted overtime which would mean that the song is becoming more and more incomprehensible as it would slowly change into a song with lyrics you couldn’t understand or identify as easily. It could also be that the song sounds uncanny in the sense that it is familiar in some ways but something is off about it.

Jordan tries to call for help on his walkie talkie but can only hear Mr. Bonzo’s theme blaring out of its tiny speaker. Jordan tries to warn everyone and get out but no one can hear him over the music. Bonzo takes the groom and begins to “dance” with him by spinning around faster and faster until Bonzo decides to rip his arms off and even as this act of gorey brutality took place the other party goers present continued to laugh and laugh until Jordan’s scream caused them to realize this wasn’t some sort of prank. Almost everyone begins to yell in terror but some yelled in rage and proceeded to attack Bonzo: “A few of the bigger guys picked up chairs or bottles and began to beat and slash at the thing. It didn’t seem to notice, its bulbous, bloodshot, eyes staying fixed on the groom’s body as it raised it overhead.” Bonzo then proceeds to continue pulverizing the body by smashing it against the ground over and over.

“For a split second, all was still but the music just pounded on, barely recognizable now over the distortion from the smoking speakers as those voices, no longer childlike, still chanted the words “He’s here to stay… He wants to play…”” “Then Mr. Bonzo turned towards us with its head bowed almost reverentially and everybody went silent. Slowly, awfully slowly, it raised its head, titling it coquettishly to one side. Then the seams across its face split revealing its gaping maw filled with even larger, sharper teeth.” Jordan admits that they don’t remember much about what happened after that but “I dream about it most nights. In the dream it digs through all those men to get to me, grabbing fistfuls of them and throwing them to smash against the wall. The strobe fires as its hands plunge into the pile of us and each flash shows a little less flesh between me and it, between me and all those teeth… finally everyone else is gone. I raise my arm to protect myself and it gently but inexorably lifts it into its mouth, smiles and bites… None of us was left whole but I was the luckiest. All I lost was a hand, it wasn’t even my dominant one.” The biting was set up previously in episode 10 when the transcripts mention “Gwen holds out the envelope and Mr Bonzo snatches it into his mouth, audibly chewing it. His teeth are not soft.”

Jordan says that they “told the investigators everything I know, doctors too. I don't know why nobody outside the room heard or saw anything, why the cameras weren't working, why it let me live. But I do know why there weren't any bodies. All I actually want is my hand back so I can tend bar but that isn’t going to happen is it? So I’ll have to settle for the next best thing and sue you for everything I can get, because I don’t know what happened that night but it was in your venue and no one came to help. Not Derek, not another doorman, no one. So yeah, you’d better have one hell of a settlement waiting for me, or I'll see you in court.”

While you could make an argument for themes of Entities like The Desolation, Flesh, Hunt, etc. I’m still going to primarily argue for Bonzo being tied to The Stranger or a similar Entity due to what we see in his previous appearances. For the sake of clarity, if there is any debate about what The Stranger embodies in MAG 200 it is stated “And as they learned to know their friends and kin, so too did they learn to fear the unknown figure, the coming of the stranger” and in MAG 092 (Nothing Beside Remains) Jonah tells Jon “We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown.” while in MAG 111 (Family Business) Jon says “The Stranger is the unknown. The uncanny.” and Gerard doesn’t correct him.

However, a lot of Mr. Bonzo’s behaviours in previous episodes resembles The Stranger (and The Stranger has violently attacked or killed people in the past). Mr. Bonzo is also described as being a clown. Something we know The Stranger has a precedent for manifesting as, probably due to both the idea of the uncanny valley being achieved with a costume or makeup and the idea of a traveling circus full of strangers you don’t know from out of town in addition to a clown costume acting as a disguise that can obscure whoever is wearing it. Not to mention that Mr. Bonzo is described as a suit, which could very easily connect to an Entity like The Stranger. Firstly, The Stranger tends to have a big emphasis on wearing things like skins and suits. Additionally, Gwen mentions in episode 11 “That… abomination wasn’t a costume. That was skin. It was sagging, it was sweaty!” and we know The Stranger has a tendency for wearing skin, skinning things (such as with taxidermy), etc. as a form of disguise, in order to hide itself, or to metaphorically rob something of their identity.

This also applies to costumes in general since usually wearing costumes or disguises can actually obscure who is wearing them and thus their true identity is unknown. There’s also the fact that costumes themselves can easily fall into the uncanny valley. Ever since Five Nights at Freddy’s became popular there’s been an uptick in horror media focusing on how creepy and uncanny things like animatronic suits can be. Not that Mr. Bonzo is an animatronic but it is a suit. Also, Bonzo apparently has hard teeth and having solid teeth on a suit could look uncanny.

The surprise gift and sudden appearance of Bonzo that others assume is some sort of surprise or prank could also tie into The Stranger and the idea of something mysteriously appearing or not being expected. Bonzo was originally made to prank celebrities. As Nigel explains in episode 10 that his produce ““inviting a famous person on, someone really serious, and we tell them we’re going to have them do a segment with a popular children’s entertainer. Now, obviously these folks won’t have any idea about what kids are actually watching, so we could come up with the most horrendous thing, claim kids loved it and see how long it took for the guest to realize that they were the joke. That they’d been “berried”” and “The problem with a surprise prank is that doing it on Saturday night primetime means pretty soon everyone knows about it, and the guests knew it was coming. A couple even requested it. So the prank part of it sort of died, and he just became an SOS mascot. One of my many tormentors in the dungeon. By the end we’d even retired Mr. Six, and it was all Bonzo.” Once again, a focus on surprise and I think it’s interesting that Bonzo loses his punch the more people know about and understand him. Bonzo is a character that thrived specifically on the guests not knowing who he was and did. So a potential relationship with the unknown again.”

In episode 10 Nigel says to Gwen ““Try not to stare. He doesn’t like it when people stare.” Which could relate to The Stranger. While all the Entities are connected, overlap, and need each other for a ritual bringing them into the world to work, with even seemingly opposing Entities bleeding into each other or having overlapping fears, The Stranger can often have an antagonistic relationship with The Eye and forms of being known. The Stranger tends to thrive off the fear of being unknown so staring at something aligned with The Stranger might make it react negatively. In MAG 092 (Nothing Beside Remains) Jonah tells Jon “We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown.” In MAG 165 (Revolutions) Not-Sasha says this in regards to The Eye’s Post-Change world “Do you know how it feels? To be – anonymous? And yet known! To have all the sweetest dread I can create tainted by the relentless gaze of that damned Eye. I’ve suffered enough.” So if my theory that Bonzo is tied to something like The Stranger is correct, that could explain a potentially negative reaction to being looked at for too long since aspects of The Stranger often don’t like it when people try to figure out what they are. This could ring extra true if it does turn out that the OIAR is somehow connected to The Eye.

Bonzo’s eating and biting could potentially be linked to The Stranger’s tendency for odd uncanny behavior, like that time Breekon / Hope ate a butterfly. The fact that this monster looks like Bonzo could also be related to the idea of the uncanny, since he would resemble Bonzo but behave and look a bit off. Also, it seems hard to tell if Bonzo is a costume or a monster resembling a costume which makes it harder to know what he is for sure, and The Stranger loves playing up mystery (think how we never know which character is Breekon and which character is Hope from Breekon and Hope in TMA, and Jon describes one of them as “one half of Breekon and Hope”). Also, Bonzo can only say his name which means you never really know what he’s saying or talking about.

Bonzo killing everyone in the room but leaving someone alive is not a completely unheard of idea. The Entities in general often seem to leave witnesses if in doing so more fear is generated and we see creatures like the Not-Them kill and replace people while ensuring that at least one person remembers what the original persona actually looked like even if no one else does. The reason for this is because if the Not-Them’s disguise was perfect and changed every bit of memory and evidence then there wouldn’t be anyone to be afraid of the idea that someone they know has been replaced by a stranger.

Jordan mentions “I don't know why nobody outside the room heard or saw anything, why the cameras weren't working, why it let me live. But I do know why there weren't any bodies.” which emphasizes his confusion about what’s happening. While confusion is often tied to The Spiral, in this case it stems from a bunch of unknown factors and variables, like why there were no other witnesses and why the cameras weren’t working.” As far as there being no witnesses and the cameras failing to work, the Entities are known for usually being on the downlow and not common knowledge but Entities like The Stranger tend to thrive off the fear of mystery and have a precedent for things like mysterious disappearances or hiding people / things. The Calliope I mentioned earlier mysteriously disappeared from the Institute’s archives at some point in TMA and in MAG 092 (Nothing Beside Remains) Jonah tells Jon “We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown.” Jonah specifically mentions that The Stranger has a connection to “the hidden” among other things. In MAG 102 (Nesting Instinct) Jonah even says that The Stranger essentially hid Jon from him when saying “I was doing everything in my power to locate you. Everyone was working on finding the ritual site.” and “[Irritated] I am sorry, John, that my powers have not yet reached the level of omniscience.” Jordan does say that they know why there weren’t any bodies which implies that Mr. Bonzo probably ate them.

Jordan having trouble remembering exactly what happened actually does have a precedent with The Stranger since the Entity does have connections to memory loss or a loss of identity. In MAG 165 (Revolutions) we see Not-Sasha watch over a Domain that takes the form of a merry-go-round with people fighting over faces. People with no faces must fight over the faces of others to rip them off and regain some sense of identity. When they lose their face it is said “And soon enough they will forget they ever even had one, rest assured; it’s best to step the dance and keep your face secured as much as you are able. Just. Keep. Running.” Jon and co also face memory loss when they interrupt The Stranger’ ritual in TMA and forget who they are and what they are doing for a period of time.

Some other Entities this statement parallels are that of The Slaughter (with sudden brutal and gory violence), The Flesh (via bodily disfigurement by way of losing a hand, Bonzo being described as releasing “some vile mixture of putrid water, rotten foam and rancid meat.” when cut at some point, and Bonzo biting into people), The End (a lot of people brutally die), The Corruption (from the aforementioned vile mixture pouring out of Bonzo), and even The Eye (with the strange and horrifying dreams Jordan is forced to relive over and over resembling how people who give Jon live statements are forced to relive said moments in the form of nightmares over and over). Like always, I have to at least touch on the fact that The Eye doesn’t seem to just be the fear of being watched but also being a witness to something you don’t want to see. Jon can force people to recount and relive terrible moments, Jonah can force information into the heads of people like Melanie and Martin, and in MAG 200 The Eye is stated to have been born from the fear of one’s own eyes showing them too much.

All this being said, I still think the OIAR is somehow connected to The Eye. There’s the cases being like statements but also the fact that they supply sensitive information (such as names and locations) to things like Mr. Bonzo. People like Jonah could almost always know one’s location thanks to their Eye powers and The Eye is connected to the fear of someone / something knowing too much about you (such as knowing where and who you are). I wonder why Bonzo was sent to kill this particular groom when he was just partying? Did the groom know something or overstep some line or was the groom just some sort of offering to appease Mr. Bonzo? How was this person’s name and address obtained? Was it just mundane tracking or something closer to Jonah’s clairvoyance? Nigel acted like he was doing the OIAR a favor so right now it seems like this was a target decided by the OIAR and not necessarily Nigel. Unless you want to argue that the “favor” is aiding in keeping Bonzo pacified, under wraps, or something potentially more mutually beneficial. I wonder if Jordan’s dreams are somehow connected to being directly involved in a case or facing an External of the OIAR? It could also simply be that Jordan is traumatized.

We cut to Gwen and the transcripts say she “is sat at her desk, stunned by what she has just heard.” and she only says “Jesus Christ…” I wonder if this is because the case is unusually brutal or gorey when compared to most others or if she realized there’s a connection between the letter she delivered and what happens in this case. Considering what Lena said it's very possible that some of the cases the OIAR gets are connected to the activity of their own Externals (such as Mr. Bonzo).

ALICE CONT.

“Gwen? Hello?”

GWEN

“(dazed) What?”

Getting sucked into a statement like this and statements having a negative impact on one’s mental state are both things we have seen in TMA. Jon had a hard time stopping once he started a statement and at one point Jon expresses worry that Martin was listening to a bunch of statements for Peter Lukas and his plan in regards to The Extinction. Although, it could be that Gwen is merely shocked.

Gwen explains that she met one of the Externals but Alice seems to think Gwen is just referring to some annoying assholes as opposed to any supernatural monsters that takes the form of beloved childhood characters.

Gwen seems to finally wonder the question that I’ve been wondering for a while now:

GWEN

“What do you think we’re actually doing, here at the O.I.A.R.?”

ALICE

“Apart from mortgaging our mental health for a wage packet?”

GWEN

“We’ve both been here long enough to know this place. We’re not doing good. We’re not just sifting random data. There’s something wrong here.”

ALICE

“What are you getting at?”

GWEN

“You never wonder what the point is? Who benefits from all this awfulness?”

ALICE

“I don’t wonder. I know.”

GWEN

(sitting up) “What? Really?”

ALICE

“(portentous) Oh yeah. I’ve known for a while. What we’re doing here, it’s all part of a grand plan to satisfy one of the most unspeakable evils known to mankind... “

Gwen’s on the edge of her seat.

ALICE

“(almost a whisper) …the UK government.”

In TMA the point of the Institute sifting through statements and stuff was twofold. Firstly, to feed The Eye but also to set up the lynchpin for The Eye’s ritual with the position of the Archivist. I wonder if something similar is going on here but I can’t say since while you could argue that being an Externals Liaison is like the Archivist and shares the role as being a “living chronicle of fear” (especially since Lena remarked that Gwen should show fear via screaming because Externals tend to like that) Gwen had to blackmail her way into that position. I have no idea who was the Externals Liaison before her or if there are other Liaisons, if there even was one(s) before / with Gwen at all. Also, unlike the Institute, the OIAR is explicitly connected to the government and is meant to respond to things (not just watch). So it’s very likely that the OIAR has a role that is different from just “The Mass Ritual / Institute 2.0.” They could still be gathering fear related to the statements and being observed like the Institute in TMA though. However, even the Institute still wanted the Archival staff to do a good job following up statements and stuff. Jon tries to reorganize the Archives after Gertrude purposefully left them disorganized and Tim corrects Jon about some errors he made when reading some statements. The OIAR doesn’t really seem to care how well or poorly their workers categorize the cases and I don’t know if anyone checks.

Alice’s joke about the greatest evil known to mankind being the UK government feels like foreshadowing considering that the OIAR, and by extension all the Externals like Bonzo, are connected to the government.

Alice’s comment “Apart from mortgaging our mental health for a wage packet?” references how stressful this job seems to be.

Conclusion

Yeah, idk. This was a very simple episode overall and it mostly just seemed like it was following up Lena’s point about paying attention to the caseload.

Okay, hold on, before I end this I figured I should actually try to look at the voices in the computer system a bit more closely, since quite frankly, like with the alchemy symbols, I’ve admittedly been neglecting them and not focusing on them as much as I should have. This is because I actually couldn’t tell if there was any kind of correlation between the voices and the kinds of cases they read but a video by Maddie’s Maxis called “This Channel's First Video - The Magnus Protocol Analysis and Theories” (which you can view here This Channel's First Video - The Magnus Protocol Analysis and Theories) hypothesizes that there is actually a correlation. As we all know two of the computer voices sound like Martin and Jon and Maddie argues that the kinds of statements the voices read correspond to something that had to do with the character. For example, in theory NORRIS (Martin’s voice) tends to have statements relating to self-loathing and loneliness. I don’t know what they are feeding Maddie but Maddie is potentially cooking here. So I decided to glance over at some of the statements and see if there are any patterns.

I’m going to start with the theme that seems the most concrete in my opinion. The cases that NORRIS (Martin’s voice) reads seem to often be tied to themes of isolation, losing loved ones, or feeling abandoned. I should make it clear that while I know Martin in TMA is connected to The Lonely I am not saying all the cases NORRIS reads are connected to The Lonely. The mere presence of feeling alone or isolated doesn’t automatically make a statement Lonely related in the same way someone dying, getting attacked, or something taking place at night or in darkness automatically means End, Slaughter, or Dark respectively. Also, it’s important to remember that every Entity, even seemingly opposing ones, have overlap, shared fears, commonalities, etc..

But let’s look at the cases to see if this pattern is really there. The case NORRIS covers in episode 1 involves the Anglerfish, or something resembling it, killing and replacing their romantic partner. Harriet even says “And that voice I have loved for twenty years answered: “Some of him.”” So loss of a loved one.

In episode 3 NORRIS covers a case in which Dr. Samuel seems to feel immense guilt and sorrow about the death of Maddie. Once again, the loss of a close loved one.

In episode 8 NORRIS goes over a report Terrance submits about the effects of brutal liminalism. While no one dies or is replaced in the actual events of the case, Terrance does mention “originally took my role as a night janitor at Forton following a protracted divorce which cost me the majority of my friendships.” So while their partner isn’t dead they did lose a loved one, and if you read my thoughts on that episode you know that I actually think the case has a lot of similarities with The Lonely. The fog, the vaguely familiar but impossible to understand gibberish, people with repeating features, being isolated in a dark void, etc.. Even if you disagree that it’s The Lonely there is still a connection to themes of losing someone close and being alone.

If there was an episode to disprove this theory it would probably be episode 12 since it’s just Bonzo murdering a room full of people. Jordan does say “I don't know why nobody outside the room heard or saw anything” and earlier in the case they mention that they believed their coworker by the name of Joey the doorman might have ditched him again but this definitely feels a bit more like a stretch. Jordan does seem to blame the establishment for what happened and this is because from the perspective of Jordan no one came to help despite how obvious and loud the commotion was. Which could maybe tie into the idea of being abandoned or left alone but this is definitely pushin it and it’s clear that our understanding of what kinds of cases each voice reads might expand as the series goes on.

Maddie argues that CHESTER (Jonathon’s voice) seems to usually cover cases related directly to the Magnus Institute. Which is generally true, CHESTER covers the cases of RedCanary spelunking in the Institute’s ruins in episode 1, and the gambling dice being submitted to the Institute in episode 9 for example. But CHESTER also covers the case about Tom wanting to watch Voyeur in episode 5, the case regarding Hilltop Center in episode 7, Gordon’s encounter with the tattoos and Ink5 during construction in episode 11. It’s very possible that these are just related to the Institute in ways we don’t understand yet, for example some of the characters that appear could be members of the Institute or something, but in my opinion this definitely throws a wrench into some things.

CHESTER seems to have a stronger case for a theme of curiosity and a desire to know in general as opposed to just the Magnus Institute. RedCanary investigates the archives out of curiosity, Tom really wants to see the Voyeur movie for their blog, the narrator explains that they experimented with the gambling dice to figure out how they worked, and Gordon keeps talking about how they “just need to see it. I need to know what’s in the water.” As I’ve mentioned previously, The Eye also has a major emphasis on a desire to know and understand something even if it comes at the cost of yourself and / or other people. Hilltop Center still seems like a bit of an outlier here but while Dianne isn’t spelunking through ruins or anything she does mention that she was looking for people to help her work at the center. Which, while a bit of a stretch, could fit with a theme of curiosity or desire to know in the case of Chester. Or at least the idea of something being searched for as a theme at least.

If you wanted to argue that CHESTER actually related to things being looked for you could say that the case about the gambling dice revolves around the narrator giving the Institute artifacts, and they even say “So yeah, I tell you all about them, how I got them, all that crap and you just… You take them away, right? You accept them? Good. I think. I’m pretty sure that’s how it works. It’s how it worked for me, at least. Put them in whatever vault you like, bury them, drop them in the ocean, for all I care. All that matters is that they’re yours now.” So you could say that the Institute was looking for artifacts. You could also argue that the narrator was looking for people to roll the dice, looking for good luck, or started making their way towards Gary when they found him.

AUGUSTUS has a voice I am not familiar with (and we will get to the popular theory in a moment). I can only recall AUGUSTUS voicing one case, I might be forgetting one or something, so I don’t have a lot to go on. AUGUSTUS could be covering really old statements, as Sam notes the one in episode 4 is from the 18th century, or statements revolving around others climbing their way to their top and doing whatever it takes to do so. It’s kind of unclear until I can see some more AUGUSTUS statements.

There’s also some obvious character associations with this theory. Martin, someone connected to The Lonely, has statements reflecting some kind of isolation or abandonment, Jon, the Archivist with a strong tie to The Eye and someone who was strung along while trying to solve Jonah’s plan and learn the truth about the Entities, has statements involving extreme curiosity or people looking for things, and Jonah, someone who is really old and ruthless (so ruthless that they made the world a fear hellscape in an attempt to avoid death), has had a statement taking place in the 18th century involving someone giving a blood sacrifice to play violin super well.

There’s a popular theory going around that the three voices in the computers are actually Jonathon, Martin, and Jonah, and this definitely seems like one of the more credible theories floating around the community to a degree. AUGUSTUS’ unfamiliar voice could be the voice of Jonah’s original body. Jon, Martin, and Jonah were all in the panopticon when the Change ended which could be the event that got them tied to the computers. It could also have to do with being the pupil of the Eye somehow. Jonah and Jon were both the Eye’s pupil at some point and Jon got his position by killing Jonah to take his spot. It’s possible something weird happened like Martin was about to become the Eye’s pupil after removing Jon from the position, giving them this common link, but I can’t say for sure.

Maddie also points out another big thing to remember in the video. I have mentioned that Annabelle seems generally right about what happens to the Entities’ various Monsters and Avatars after the Entities get pulled into the next universe. Monsters, like potentially the Anglerfish, presumably get sucked into the new universe since they are part of the Entities. Other people may or may not get sucked into the universe depending on how attached they were to the Entity. It’s also possible that they will always just be left behind. However, Annabelle also mentions that it’s possible the Entities will take the aspects of a person that are connected to or are a part of the Entity. So, it’s possible that the parts of Jon, Martin, and Jonah in the computer are not them in their entirety but merely specific aspects of their personality or being. It could literally just be their voices taken by one or more Entities for all we know.

We also know that some Entities, like The End, seem capable of making copies or “memories” of people after / when they die. In MAG 154 (Bloody Mary) Eric states “I know that I’m not really Eric; I’m just a memory someone wrote down. It hurts, most of the time. I don’t like it.” So one could argue that the voices in the computers are not the fully sentient original versions of Jon, Martin, and Jonah but “memories” or copies created by one or more Entities. This could also explain why the third voice might be Jonah even though Jonah potentially died before the Entities jumped universes. This voice could simply be The Eye’s metaphorical recollection of Jonah or Jonah wasn’t completely dead when the Entities switched universes. This also means that the voices in the computers could be more malicious than we first assume if there’s a chance they are in actuality not Jon, Martin, and Jonah or are in truth aspects of The Eye or bits of their personalities trying to achieve a specific goal.

As I’ve mentioned previously, the cases the voices read out don’t seem to be completely random. The second Sam is about to give up his search for the Magnus Institute CHESTER spits out a case that is perfect for reigniting his curiosity with the addition of a new clue, and when Celia takes the job the first case she gets is about Hilltop Center (which could relate to Celia’s questions about multiversal and time travel). I still can’t say if the CHESTER or any other of the computers are trying to help Sam or use him for more nefarious purposes.

I’m not super confident about this being the patterns the computers follow at the moment because frankly there isn’t a lot of cases to go off of, and I need to see more AUGUSTUS. It’s also possible that the cases are more variable or context dependant. What the voices read could depend on the person at the computer, for example: it’s possible CHESTER reads a bunch of cases connected to the Institute because that’s what Sam was most interested in. There are also some cases we don’t have enough context behind yet, for example the mysterious figure in the Hilltop Road case could be connected to something like the Institute in some way, or that some of the voices focus on certain Externals Liaisons, people, etc..

If you want another TMAGP theory video to watch here’s one by Pinkelotje: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MX51EHLy7BQ&ab_channel=pinkelotje.

#tmagp #tma #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #theory

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