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johnwickb1tsch · 6 months

Text

THE DEVILS' TRIANGLE

A Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (& now John Constantine) Imagine Part 8 by:

@treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @johnwickb1tsch and @tammykelly (with honorary dream weavers / shit stirrers @lilspookymeh & @kurai-hono-blog 😘)

Warnings: So many dead doves! Do not eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. You're in good company here. 😘 Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, dubcon, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

ALL CHAPTERS

PART 8

Johnwickb1tsch:

"Come on, we've got to get you somewhere safe," says John Wick, trying to hustle you down the street.

"No," you protest, resisting. "We have to find John and Tex. They might need us."

You were skeptical about demons and the occult, God and the Devil and everything in between, at first. But after hanging out with Constantine, you'd seen a few things. Just enough that you had sense enough to be scared. You clutch the protection amulet around your neck that John had given you. You'd laughed at him at the time, but now you were glad to have it.

"They're both grown men, honey. I told Tex to leave you alone. This is what he gets."

Suddenly you're angry all over again. "Oh, you told him, huh?" You push John's chest--its like having a disagreement with a brick wall. "Do you have any fucking idea how much I've missed you? How it destroyed me to be thrown away like an old shirt you had no more use for?"

He is still as a mountain as he holds your wrists, preventing you from striking him, but not hurting you. Those dark eyes bore into you, through you. How does he not see you? "Y/n...I did what I thought was best for you."

"But you didn't fucking ask me! Or at least, you didn't listen! But you know what, it doesn't matter right now. John had to put some kind of a curse on Tex in self defense, because Tex is such an asshole, and now they're both in danger!"

"A what?"

You pause to think, and you're pretty sure you know where Constantine would go. There's an old church a few blocks over. Consecrated ground. It's where he's always told you to go if something came after you. It would be a good place to regroup.

"Come on," you say, pulling John in the opposite direction down the street.

For once, he actually listens, a shadow at your back ready to protect you, but he lets you lead the way.

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

The old building looks like it should probably be condemned. It's definitely seen better days, and hasn't seen a congregation in at least a decade. However, the ground is still holy, untouchable for the Unclean, and when you burst through the doors after John has already shot down three demons, you are so relieved to see Constantine and Tex sitting in some of the old pews. They definitely look like they've been through a battle, disheveled and beat up. You wonder how much was demons, and how much they did to each other.

"Thank God!" You run to them, and Tex's expression rises and falls as you go to Constantine, pressing your mouth to his in what you know is a needy kiss, assuring yourself as much as him.

He smirks down at you, well aware of the death- stares he's receiving from both sides. It's possible he makes a show of grabbing your ass, just to rub it in to your two Ghosts.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. You?"

You nod. Then Constantine rolls his eyes upward, over your head to John Wick. He is quietly forbidding in his black suit, standing watch by the door. "That your other Ghost?"

With a tired sigh you nod.

"Ghosts? The fuck is Harry Potter here talkin' about?"

The urge to punch Tex or kiss him is strong as ever.

"The two of you ghosted me, didn't you?"

"Baby girl, I missed you. That's why I came to get you." He shoots a telling glare over at John Wick, who only returns a disinterested look. Maybe the master assassin had been keeping tabs on you, but he hadn't shared everything with Tex, it seems.

Constantine looks between the two assassins, then you, with an infuriating smirk.

"What?" you demand, more than a little exasperated with everthing.

"Nothing. Just seems like you have a type, angel."

You can't even argue.

"Angel?" Tex snorts at your pet name. "Does he even know you?"

"Does he ever shut up?" asks Constantine, raising one dark eyebrow.

"No, never," you sigh.

There is a howl outside that lifts every hair on your body, an unearthly sound that makes your fingers grip in Constantine's suit jacket.

"What are we going to do?"

"Good question." Constantine tugs you over to a different pew, sitting down with his arm draped around your shoulders. His message is obvious, and it's new to you. Constantine rocks your world on the nightly, but he's never been possessive before. It really shouldn't, but it ignites a warmth in your chest that makes you feel ridiculously, stupidly, giddy inside.

"Seems like we're at an impasse, gentlemen."

Tex frowns. John seems less than impressed.

"Sorry, what's stopping us from killing you and taking her?"

You tense, watching the gun John holds loosely at his side. You know Wick can move like lightning, and your heart leaps into your throat. You are ready to fling yourself between them if you have to.

"John..."

"It's ok, sweetheart. He's not going to kill me."

"No offense, but I've heard that before from lots of people who are dead now."

Constantine snorts. "You can't kill me, because I've put a curse on your friend here, and you need me to lift it."

"So lift it."

"Can't. Got a friend who can though. You'll never see him without me."

You know Constantine must be talking about the famed and powerful bokor, Papa Midnite. A chill runs down your spine. You've met him precisely once. He was polite--and hot as fuck, if you're being honest--but you knew he was not to be trifled with.

"So let's go, then," says Tex, his patience lost about three dead demons ago.

"Hold up, Howdy Doody. We got to talk first."

"Bout?"

Constantine nods down at you. "Maybe I don't know all the details, but I've heard enough. And as much as I've enjoyed filling the hole you assholes left--I can't let you hurt her again. I'll let the demons feast on your souls first."

Almost on cue, that demonic howling sounds again outside, and a chorus of hellish hissing rises. It sounds like you are surrounded.

Tex leaps to his feet. "You smug little fucker--"

"Shut up, Tex." It's Wick who shushes his friend. "What do you propose?"

Finally, Constantine looks down at you. "It depends on what she wants."

Your mouth drops open at that. You have to decide that, now? As though he can read your thoughts, and sometimes you're convinced he can, Constantine pays you an infuriating smirk.

"I...don't want them dead. Or...devoured."

"That's a start, I guess. Do you ever want to be with them again?"

Your eyes go wide as saucers. The simple answer, of course, is yes. You love them. You miss them.

However, answers are never so simple, with your Boys involved. Like an idiot, you dare to look at them, taking in Tex's hang-dog puppy-eyed look, and John's quiet but intense yearning. Then, of course, there is the man beside you, who despite his aloofness and his prickly manner, has been nothing but good to you.

You've never said it out loud, but the truth is, you love him too.

"I don't know."

"Yeah. I figured." He smirks at you, inexplicably smug, and you kind of want to smack him too.

Which always leads to interesting things, with John Constantine, your stupid lady parts sing out. Jesus Christ on a cracker, what a fucking mess.

"You got a point, Gandalf?" demands Tex, paying a nervous look to one of the cracked stained glass windows. Ominous dark shapes are flying past outside. This is not good.

"I want you assholes to accept a Spell of Submission to her."

"The fuck does that mean?" demands Tex with a thunderous frown. John remains neutral as he listens.

"It means, if you ever try to make her do something she really doesn't want to do, again, she can say the magic words to fuck up your world. Pardner."

"No fuckin' way," Tex scoffs.

At the same time, John answers, "I'll do it."

Your eyes meet across the aisle of the church. That he would take such a leap of faith-- for you-- drops the floor out from under you.

Tex, of course, interrupts your moment of soul- searching eye contact with John.

"Wait, so we could be havin' an argument and she can drop me dead with the evil eye or somethin'?"

Constantine snorts. "It would probably serve you right, Hee Haw, but no. Cause you extreme pain? Yes. But it comes at a price. All magic does. I know she wouldn't use it lightly."

It would potentially even the playing field quite a bit between you three. The balance of power amongst you had never been fair.

"What's a matter, Tex? You don't trust me?"

"Only as far a I could throw you, darlin'." But his hawk-like look softens for you after a moment, and then surprisingly he grins. "Got me over a barrel now, don't you?"

You shift a little in your seat, so that you're flush against Constantine. The solid line of his lithe warmth beside you is anchoring. You glance up at him, finding he looks arrogantly amused-- and surprisingly, a little sad. If you didn't know him so well you would have missed it, like ripples in a pool.

You turn back to Tex, an uneasy excitement thrumming in your chest.

"If the curse fits?"

The cowboy sighs, frowning at the hellspawn waiting to rend his flesh and eat his soul outside. "Alright, fine. Guess you might as well take it all." He can't look at you while he says it, but you sense his surrender-- or at least, his resignation. It's not exactly a victory, but it's something, and it pulls at your heartstrings.

"Alright, wizard boy. Hoodoo me up."

Constantine snorts, leaping up from the bench. "First we've got to get out of here. You're going to want to cover your eyes." He starts muttering an encantation and walking in a circle, sprinkling a powder on the ground from his pocket. "When this goes off we'll have ten minutes. Either of you assholes have a car nearby?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Hope you like to drive fast."

His chanting gets louder, and you see he's produced a lighter. He never uses it for cigarettes anymore, but portable fire to a magician has its uses. You can tell he's reaching the crescendo of his spell, and you scrunch your eyes closed. Even through your eyelids you see the flash, and the boom of a magical fireball that should have burned you all to dust.

However, only the things outside incinerate, their agonized cries echoing through the cavernous stone building.

"Let's move."

****

As it turns out, John Wick can drive very fast.

You already knew this, of course. Constantine, however, seems to be regretting his life choices as Wick weaves in and out of traffic, trying to find a hand hold as you are whipped around in the cramped back seat of the vintage Chevelle. He clenches his square jaw and glares daggers as Wick makes a quick left juke, the force of it pushing Constantine into the side of the car furthest from you.

You think it's a coincidence, until you meet John Wick's eyes in the rear-view mirror, and you see a glimmer of amusement. On anyone else, it would be all-out gut-busting laughter. You open your mouth to tell him to play nice, but Tex interrupts you—just like old times.

"3 o'clock," barks the cowboy assassin from the shotgun seat. It's fitting, because he quite literally has a sawed-off shotgun in his lap, something from Constantine's cabinet of goodies with arcane symbols scratched into the barrel. Tex and Constantine fought over this seat like it was worth a million dollars, and only the interruption of the literal Hell’s Angels roaring up on you on motorcycles re-focused their attention.

They’ve been trying to run you down for blocks like wolves on a caribou, and with a whip of Wick's wrist on the steering wheel, now you’re being pursued by one less. It over-corrects and crashes into a concrete barrier. Constantine laughs under his breath at the thing’s demise.

However, there are still three more to contend with.

“The club is just ahead,” directs Constantine. “Good luck finding parking.”

“Hold on.”

There's nothing to fucking hold on to in the bare bones back seat—except for Constantine, so that's what you do. He holds your hand with a white knuckled grip that betrays his nerves far more than his expression does

John tricks the motorcycle-riding demons by suddenly slowing down, then gunning the engine, running one over with a sudden burst of speed, then smacking the other two like a pinball flipper with a sudden shift and drift turn.

The car is totally fucked, but so are the hellspawn, so it feels like a win.

When one of them tries to stagger from the wreckage towards you Tex shoots it from out the window. The sound is deafening—and the ball of fire from the barrel of the gun makes you all jump.

“What the fuck is that, John?” you demand.

“Dragon's breath,” he answers you with a little smirk. “Nice work, Hee Haw. You should hunt demons instead of people.”

“What's the pay?”

“Absolute shit with possible stock options in Heaven.”

“No thank you then.”

The four of you pile out of the car and hustle towards the doors of Midnite's.

“This place is supposed to be neutral ground,” says Constantine, “but it's going to be full of demonic half-breeds, so walk fast and stick close.”

Tex turns to you with an incredulous frown. “Baby, I seriously gotta question your taste. Where did you find this wizard boy?”

Constantine looks at you with a smirk, no doubt thinking about your first animalistic tryst in that alleyway by the bar, and how he’d made you cum on his dick with your back chaffed by the hard bricks behind you, your legs wrapped desperately around his slender waist while he pounded inside your needy little cunt.

It had been glorious.

Just the memory of it floods you with a searing heat from your loins to regrettably, your cheeks.

Constantine loves it when he manages to make you blush, and a wicked gleam sparkles in his jetty dark irises.

“Shall I tell him, dear?”

You can tell that Tex’s head is about to explode.

“Not while he’s holding a fire-breathing shotgun, honey.”

Constantine has never really used lovey pet names with you before. It’s almost the weirdest thing that’s happened today.

As you push through the doors of the club it’s almost like entering another dimension, the red lights and bass thump of hedonistic music beyond, the steps down down down like a descent into a nether realm. The bouncer holds up his tarot card, the entrance exam, that Constantine passes like a breeze. “Rat in a dress.”

Bouncer turns to Wick and Tex with a new card, who look at Constantine with almost comical consternation. “They’re with me.”

“Still gotta pass.”

A beat later Constantine punches the burly bouncer out, shaking the sting off his hand. “Sorry,” he says to the unconscious man on the ground. To the rest of you, “Shit. Move fast.”

He bursts through the doors to the main club, striding with purpose on those beautiful long legs. You always feel too cool for school, when you’re on a magical side-quest with John. His broad shoulders part the crowd around you all, and when you’re with Constantine, everyone is looking at you. Half-breed angels, demons, and who knows what in between. Their eyes glow eerily in the low crimson light of the club.

Neither Wick nor Tex betray any fear or surprise at descending into this eldritch side of the City of Angels, intimidating towers at your back, glowering at anyone who looks your way.

Maybe it’s stupid, but in this moment you feel pretty fucking invincible.

It’s definitely stupid, because the creatures on Team Lucifer start to take an acute interest in Tex, their eyes glowing. Even you can feel them pressing closer around you. Constantine is standing at the tufted leather wall, what you know is an illusion hiding a door.

A tall, unfairly hot half-breed saunters into Tex’s personal space, reaching up to touch his cheek with a sultry come-hither smile. Succubus, is your guess, though the possibilities are literally endless. For a moment Tex seems utterly entranced, and it’s all you can do not to roll your eyes. “Sorry, he’s taken,” you say, pulling Tex back with your fingers in his tooled belt to sandwich him between you and Constantine.

Are they going to open the door for you or what? Any time now would be excellent…

Suddenly the half-breed seems a foot taller, looming over you with glowing red eyes. With your heart in your throat you hold up your amulet between you, and though she doesn’t exactly flinch and hiss like you’d hoped, you can tell she doesn’t care for it, her fine features twisting in a sneer like she tasted something nasty.

“Fine,” pouts the demoness. “Change your mind, handsome, you know where to find me.” She punctuates the offer with a flash of razor-sharp teeth before she saunters off with extra swing in her hips.

Tex makes a small sound of pain behind you as he watches her go, and you know he can’t help it. Desire is the Succubus’s power, and she was clearly hunting tonight. It doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes though, turning to catch John Wick’s gaze. You can tell he’s keeping watch on the room, but he’s also got his eyes on you; that weighty, yearning look that never fails to tie your heart—and your lady parts—up in knots. A wholly inconvenient throb of lust between your legs makes you shift where you stand; suddenly you are soaked, so aware of the solid warmth of Tex at your back, and John towering before you.

Just like old times.

A part of you wants to reach for him, location be damned, an ingrained urge that would be a terrible idea at this time in this place, because if you touch him you’ll have to kiss him and who knows where that will end.

Jesus, was the succubus’s energy affecting you too? Or is it just…them?

There is a heady weight in the air, like something malevolent is about to descend upon you all. With your heart in your throat you clutch at the talisman around your neck, and though you’re not really sure which deity you’re entreating for salvation, you pray.

At last the door swings open, and Constantine finds your elbow, tugging you none too gently with him inside Papa Midnite’s inner sanctum. Naturally, where you go, the boys follow close behind.

“John Constantine,” says Papa Midnite in his melodic baritone. “Been some time. I see you’ve brought friends.”

“Wouldn’t go that far,” snarks Constantine with a baleful look at the two assassins at your back. “But I need your help.”

“The Great John Constantine needs my help?” mocks Papa. “Must be sometin’ bad.”

You’re not proud of the panic that rises in your throat at the sound of Midnite’s reluctance to help you. You know that pretty much everyone in the supernatural world has been pissed off at Constantine for some reason or another, but you pray this man can rise above his grudge. If not…Tex is fucked, and maybe it’s stupid after everything he did to you, but just the thought leaves a hollow ringing inside your heart.

You dare to peek around from Constantine’s imposing form. “Please, Papa?” you entreat, your eyes wide. You have met once before, and on that occasion the powerful witch doctor seemed to like you, though he didn’t cease to deride what a girl like you could possibly be doing with the likes of John Constantine. “We really need your help.”

Papa Midnite tilts his fedora-topped head to regard you with curiosity. He is wearing one of his delightfully loud shirts with a fur collared jacket. A gold necklace gleams against the dark skin of his throat. “Who needs my help, little girl? You, or him?” He points at Constantine with the jut of his chin.

“I do,” you both answer at the same time. You realize Constantine doesn’t want you to owe the powerful Bokor a favor—but you’re reading the room, and you’re pretty sure if the magic is for Constantine, Midnite is going to tell you all to pound rocks.

Midnite, understanding all of this, sits back in his throne of a chair with a little chuckle, drumming gold-bedecked fingers on the carved wooden arm.

“What is it you need?”

“A curse lifted,” answers Constantine. “And a spell cast.”

Midnite whistles at hearing that, and only then does his attention turn to the assassin at your back. “I can sense the dark mark from here,” says the witch doctor. “Let me see.”

With a grumble Tex pulls at his collar, pearl snap buttons popping to reveal the blackened circular pentacle, its 8 radii tipped with symbols, embedded beneath his skin. At the sight of it Midnite smirks, his eyebrows lifting high.

“Set thou a wicked one to be ruler over him, and let Satan stand at his right hand,” cites Midnite. “That a powerful curse t’set on someone, Constantine.”

“It was a heat of the moment thing,” grumbles the demon hunter.

“I can tell. Takes some big feeling, to conjure a curse like dis from thin air.”

That’s when Midnite looks at you, and that stupid blush of heat ambushes you again.

Feelings were not something you and John Constantine talked about. Sure, they were there, but you never really gave voice to them. You demonstrated them, physically, and often. Midnite seems bent on embarrassing both of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” grouses Constantine, only daring to glance in your direction. But in that single moment, the raw look on his face makes you feel like you need to sit down. “So can you lift it or not?”

“Course I can,” says Midnite dismissively. “What you bring me in return?”

“’Fraid I’ll have to owe you.”

“Hmm. I’ve heard that one too many times from the likes of you, Constantine. I’ll need somethin’ up front.”

“Do you like gold?” asks John Wick blandly, producing five glittering yellow coins from his pocket, setting them on the table in front of Papa Midnite in a neat stack one by one. The pretty tink tink tink of metal fills the air, and Midnite nods with his lips pursed, paying Wick an approving look. However, as he examines the death’s head emblazoned token, it is you he speaks to.

“How did a nice girl like you get tangled up wit Underworld boys like dis?”

A shuddering sigh escapes you, as a montage of the absolute fire you walked through to get to this moment flashes in your mind. The murder, the kidnapping, the chaos and corruption. The passion, the pleasure, and the quieter moments that made you think you might be content to stay with your Boys forever—until they forced you to go.

“It’s a long story, Papa,” you answer, barely able to raise your voice over a whisper.

“Some other time, you’ll tell me, then. Step into my office.”

Midnite leads you to his back room, a cavernous space built in the breathtakingly ornate style of the Moorish palaces of Andalusia. At first you don’t know where to look. The arabesque carved walls, the scalloped arches, the honeycomb vaulted ceilings, or the cacophony of antique relics stacked high on all sides. There are statues and busts and boxes and dolls, this and that and bric-a-brac and every category of precious old junk you can imagine, is here. Your eye is drawn to an old wooden chair against the far wall with leather straps that for some reason gives you chills.

The center of the room is empty, the demarked circle where Midnite performs his workings outlined with bones, half-burnt candles, and rusty lines on the tiles that look like blood.

“Now then,” says Midnite, taking a sip from a bottle of dark rum before offering it to Tex. “Drink up, man. Dis not gonna feel good.”

***

When all is said and done, the four of you all feel like pieces of chewed up gum. You are utterly wiped, and it’s all you can do not to fall asleep in the back of the car with your head on Constantine’s shoulder. Fingering your new tattoo, a mystical symbol that binds Tex Johnson and John Wick to your will, you think on what Papa Midnite said to you before your departure.

“Hard to live with a heart divided in three pieces, girl. You playin’ a dangerous game.”

“It’s not a game to me, Midnite. It’s just…my life, somehow.”

“Dat fair. So you know, I told that silly boy of yours to put a ring on your finger ‘fore he lost the chance. Never seen him like dis, wit any other.”

You’d paid him a grim smile, amused at the thought of Constantine asking you to be his wife. What a laughable prospect. Sweet, but there was no way he felt that about you. “Are you telling me not to break your friend’s heart, Midnite?”

He’d snorted and taken a drink of rum. “I know better than that. But you might tink about what he’ll turn into, if tings go badly.”

Truth be told, you didn’t want to think on that, because it terrified you. All you wanted right now, was to curl up in the bed you shared with John Constantine, and sleep for about seven years.

Midnight had given you a herbal potion that had to be administered to Tex every six hours for a week, and a magical salve to apply to the burn upon his chest where the symbol had, at one point, burst into white-hot flame. You’d feared he’d been at death’s door, until he took your hand with a smirk and mumbled half to you, half to himself, “The things I do for my little rattlesnake.” It had squeezed your heart with a fist, utterly wrecked you, and you knew you couldn’t kick him to the curb just yet.

You were headed back to Constantine’s house, (which you had helped him get together the down payment for, with no strings attached, so…) and the four of you would have to figure out how to co-exist, at least until Tex was back on his feet.

Then…who the fuck knew what was going to happen.

You’d think about that, tomorrow.

Tammykelly:

- a flashback -

Sleep long forfeited to yet another night full of vigorous dance that is the celebration of passion and ever growing connection and affection between two souls who’d found one another amidst chaos that unfailingly enters one’s life book when it flips through the pages onto the next chapter. Gradually, chaos learns the code of order, tamed by the new rules and beginnings, sought after by you and Constantine in an unhasty pace.

You feel the blossom of his soft lips on yours for a while, before you pull away to take a long look at him, running your fingers along his sweaty forehead and through his slightly damp hair. He feels his chest tighten at the way your gaze moves across his tilted up face and lingers on his eyes, entering beyond the physical and reaching for subliminal.

“Hi”, - Constantine croaks, his arms draped around your waist, steadying you, as your heated bodies stay impossibly close.

“Hey, baby”, - you breathe out, your touch leaves traces on his skin in feather-like movements, making his heart flutter.

“You call me that like it means something”, - he wonders out loud.

It must be true, that the eyes are the windows to the soul, for when he says that, you feel the heat of your body grow stronger when his irises light up with an inexplicably warm spark that transforms into the taste of him on your ever waiting lips, while your hips drag out the sensually slow pace. You try to find the perfect rhythm again, having felt yourself folding under the intensity with which your heart blooms and expands every time his dark eyes capture yours.

“I…uh…I’m….”, - you blurt out, the right words stuck at the edge of the said sacred dilation.

Maybe it is love. Love that sprouts across the silver lining that is the tenuous punchline between sanity and deliberate madness of passion. Constantine’s body reacts to yours before his mind has to think about it, as he gently tugs you closer. He doesn’t let you finish, his lips connecting to yours, catching your love on his tongue in a long deliciously flavorful kiss.

He touches your bullet scar, his jawline playing, his eyes darkening.

“They’re gonna pay for what they did to you”, - he quietly tells you again, voice filled with determination that invites more ephemeral warmth into your chest.

“They already did”, - you reply, reminiscence of their absence dissipating into the background of your subconscious when your tongue slides along Constantine’s jaw, tasting tiny droplets of sweat.

“They gotta pick someone their size, yeah?”

His reply makes you smile: “Please, we’ve talked about this, baby”, you feel goosebumps arise at the back of his neck at the nickname, no matter how nonchalant he wants to appear each time you call him a random pet name.

“You care about them? Even after everything they’ve done to you?” - his raspy voice is low but the tone sets a prelude to a gradually boiling point.

“They’re the best I’ve ever had”, he leans back and quirks his eyebrow at your tease, “after you, of course”, you add, smirking.

He lets out a sigh of frustration: “Jesus, it’s like talking to a fucking brick wall”, you feel his fingers dig deeper into your soft skin. You lean closer, your breath over his mouth.

“Calling God’s name when you’re balls deep in me?” your voice akin to a purr, “what a profanity”, a smirk curls up.

“Mhhmm, funny thing is He made this happen”, Constantine’s tone matches your game.

“And is Jesus present in the room with us?” your head tilts.

“Oh, you think it’s funny?” he bucks his hips up.

“You literally just said it is”, an involuntary moan escapes your mouth, lost in the grunt of the man underneath you, when you match his cheat code with a harsh movement of your own.

“It’s an expression”.

“Okay and?”

“Watch your mouth”, - Constantine’s eyes transform into a pair of two burning coals, sending shivers across your whole body, accompanied by the way his fingertips trace down your spine.

You can barely make a sound due to his manipulations: “Can’t read minds, baby”, making it his turn to shudder.

“What, don’t have any better ideas?” he recuperates, the warmth of his arms leave you, as he places his hands behind him on the bed to support his weight. You don’t wait to connect your mouth to his, your teeth sinking into his lower lip before you lightly tug at it and let go. A cocky grin instantaneously leaves his handsome face when he feels your tongue crash into his mouth, which he reciprocates with twice as much force and eagerness, his arms lock back around your waist, and he notices a triumphant smile display itself on your features.

“An angel risen from ashes picked up by the devil reborn”, you answer his question, teasing the idea of which one’s which when you first met. Him - a cancer free phoenix-like angel of death, or you - a devilishly sweet temptress, who, unbeknownst to herself, exchanged two deadly ghosts for the black cat of a man, stuck in between both realms.

You continue: “He always had a rotten sense of humour. And His punch lines are killers”, Constantine’s gaze darkens at the mention of your ghosts.

“Ha-ha, very funny”, his tone less than amused.

“Oh, you find this funny now?” you bite his neck, which makes a deep husky groan erupt from his throat.

“Don’t tell me you believe this fate bullshit”, you say, as you fight the urge to speed up your pace to chase the way his sultry sounds bounce around your insides.

His low growl nearly shatters your self control when he tells you: “Fate or not, you’re mine now. Mine”, you feel his teeth sink into your skin, “you hear me?”, his gaze when he looks up akin to the explosion of a sleeping volcano underneath an already blazing ocean, edging you onto the border of a slippery slope that is the point of no return once you process the 3 magic words that are glued to your tongue.

Instead two short words roll off, as a soft moan:“Yes, baby”.

“Gonna give you everything you want”, you feel his hands roam all over your body, “all of me”.

You lean back.

“All of you?”- your expression flickers with darkness, showing him your devilish desire, as his silent gaze shaves off the outer layers down to your core.

“You son of a bitch”, you breathe out, smiling, after a brief pause, for your racing heartbeat shifts to a contracting and pulsating firework, overtaking all of your senses. You study his handsome face, drinking in all the details you’ve grown so attached to, florescence of affection tugging your lips upwards in a gentle smile.

Constantine’s eyes set the fire in the pit of your belly ablaze on the scale that you’re sure will be the death of you some day, for being with him is like Heaven on Earth and being apart now seems like a cruel tool of a ghostly destruction.

His playful grin pulls you back in: “Calling me a son of a bitch when I got you on my dick? You’re brave, kitten”.

“That’s exactly why I can call you that. You’re my son of a bitch”, you grab his hair and give it a nice pull before you lean down to lick up his neck, placing a gentle kiss right under his ear, feeling him twitch inside you, “and Devil’s right hand, yeah?”

“More like his puppet”, Constantine grunts, as you look down at him, sensing him barely able to maintain the slow[ish] pace you’ve set, holding onto the last threads of self-restraint.

“So, no rewards for that, I suppose?”, you tease further, testing the limits of the mind games he’s been playing with you all day long.

“Afraid not, angel”.

“Let me be the one to send you to Heaven then”, you whisper right against his ear and kiss his temple.

All the blurry lines of will power come tumbling down, when the sound of him sucking air through his teeth enters your inner space, as Constantine’s hand finds its place between your jawline and neck.

Gradually, you encourage his index and middle fingers between your lips, his irises unable to focus anywhere else but the way you take them in, his whole body akin to a molten liquid metal, his fingers melting on your tongue. You giddily lick them, your tongue swirling around them, playing with his digits like lollipop toys, until you let go and take care of the saliva under Constantine’s furnace of a carnally hungry gaze.

You feel your hips stuttering against the increasing pace, when you hear his raspy voice: “Fuck, kitten, you feel like Heaven”, the energy between your bodies and feverish kisses multiplying in increasingly all consuming vehement abundance that can crack the earth open.

“Touché”.

A half smile coats his lips at your cute quip.

“Watch”, you tell him, his eyes shifting to the mirror somewhere behind you.

The heat of his hips rolling against yours at the speed that finds you both panting and sweaty messes is more than enough for him to tip over the edge but as his eyes take in the scene of your power over him, his body proceeds to come apart under you when your fingers wrap around his throat and apply pressure, slightly tipping his face up.

“Open”, you say, your thumb glazing over his soft lips, and he raises an eyebrow, “don’t you wanna cum, baby?”, you sweetly inquire.

“Fuck”, his voice is barely audible, Constantine’s eyes glimmer under your watchful lust, the darkness in the depth of the bottomless abyss that is him transcending what has become of his power over you. His eyelids flutter slightly, as your spit falls on his tongue.

“Swallow”, you reward him with a particularly harsh snap of your hips, seeing his Adam’s apple bobble.

“You’re gonna pay for that”, he growls.

“You’re a drama queen, you know that?”, you point out, leaving a love-bite mark on his collarbone, knowing damn well at the way he’s twitching inside you, he won’t be lasting long. You smirk, as you slow down the pace to a damn near full stop, eliciting a low and deep whine from him.

What the fuck, his eyes show you, roaming over your face hungrily.

“Tell me how much you want me”, you purr, feeling his fingers next to your scalp, tugging you closer.

“Fuck, angel, wanna feel you so bad”, an angelically evil smile plays on your face at his response, “need you on biblical level”, he finishes, the butterflies inside you catching aflame, their fiery wings spreading across every fibre of your being.

Constantine feels like he might go insane without you, your whole existence being the lone salvation he’s been seeking his entire life. He twitches again.

“Say that again”, your sultry tone pervades his mind, the pace picking up just a tiny bit.

“Need you to move, right now”, he begs.

You look at him expectantly.

“I can’t control myself any longer. Please, fuck me”, he looks up into your eyes that have turned into blazingly bright gates to the oblivion that is his path to purgatory. His gaze diverts back to the mirror and your goddess-like form against his.

“God, you’re sexy when you beg”, you whisper, Constantine can practically hear the cocky smirk in your voice, as a loud moan erupts from his throat, while he watches himself get ruined by everything that is you.

“I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel”, you exhale, listening to the way your name exits his lips akin to a gust of wind, blowing across an infinite ocean.

“Cheeky little girl”, he barely replies between the chain-smoke of moans.

“Fuck you”, you breathe out.

“Say no more”, he chuckles, his lips and teeth leaving bruises all over your sensitive chest, his hips meeting yours at an increasingly high speed.

“Fuck me harder”, he growls, his lips soliciting moans from yours.

“What a good girl”, he purrs and smiles against your neck, feeling your speed folding, as you attempt to gain the upper hand.

“My beautiful angel”, Constantine praises, kissing down the valley of your breasts, enjoying every single breathless moan that you leave for him to treasure, “you’re doing so well”, he continues, “I love it when you fuck me like this”, his lips graze yours before another storm of a kiss unfolds itself.

“Oh, yeah?”

“So good, I need you to fuck me like this every day”, his teeth tug your lower lip and let go, his open-mouth kiss then imprinting a picture of his love for you on your tongue.

“Need this pussy for breakfast, lunch and fucking dinner”, - a husky growl of his makes your insides deliciously twist.

“Say less”, you giggle after the kiss breaks apart, only for a yet another wave of kissing, biting, hair pulling and power play, resembling a balanced match, surpass the two of you.

You feel as if the sun that is the man, obeying your all desires, is scorching you with a strong nurturing vitality, meeting you halfway anytime you slip.

The sun, sometimes deadly, shining its light on you and sharing the experience of birth of the stars with you, until all you and Constantine know is that you can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.

“Cum for me, baby”, you whisper, your eyes hazily gazing into his.

“Fuck”, he moans into your mouth, as you and him become one in an endless explosion of lustful starlight.

You both take a moment to steady your breathing, the pulses of your bodies streaming along the lines of your silhouettes akin to the red string of fate. Suddenly, you feel yourself getting lifted and plopped on the bed, the heavy weight hovers above you.

“My turn”, Constantine growls, worshipping you and your body in a form of myriad of kisses, adoring your skin.

“I’m not finished with you”, you chuckle, pulling his face to yours.

“Wanna ride your pretty face so badly”, you breathe out shakily, watching his pupils dilate, turning his dark chocolate eyes into jet-black colour of the night outside your windows.

He kisses you deeply before teasing: “Should’ve said sooner, princess”, and flips you.

Before you know it, his lips are connected to your nether ones, placing sweet kisses on God’s bewitching and intricate creation.

“Oh, fuck!”, a scream leaves your mouth, as you lose control over your limbs when Constantine demonstrates his vicious payback for all of your previous manipulations, the delirious temptation to play him exiting your body like it was never there.

The way his tongue devours you till the last drop like a man starved, you assume you’re not the only one losing yourself to this trick of devilish pleasure, pulling you deeper into the whirlpool that keeps expanding wave by wave until it comes thundering through your body like a tsunami, then crashing onto a shore over and over, the sound of your screams mixing with the magnitude of Constantine’s sonic savouring of your most precious parts till his immeasurable hunger for all divinity that is you is satiated beyond your limits.

Songs for the delulu meal:

The best I ever had by Limi

Obsessed by Zandros ft. Limi

Dangerous woman Call out my name mix

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You don’t know if it’s some kind of magic, or if you’re just this petty. But, damn, that succubus did piss you off. Even worse than her, with her silky black hair and sweet milk skin and inviting, rosy eyes and cheeks.. You catch yourself mid thought, determined to pluck her from your brain.

Yes, even worse than that half breed bitch - Jesus, who are you? - was watching Tex suffer and bleed. Blue lips forming around a silent scream; a beg for the ritual to stop. Tan, supple skin turned ashen gray and tented. Dark eyes blown milky and wild with terror.

There’s another memory you have to get rid of somehow: Tex dying a slow, grueling death in some hellish, accelerated time loop. In front of you. Powerless you.

You have his take home medications clutched tightly to your torso as the Johns lug him inside, one under each arm, his feet stumbling and dragging so much that Wick decides to just pick him up.

Why in the world did that make you so delighted? To see John Wick carrying Tex Johnson bridal style across Constantine’s threshold?

Your smile wipes clean, though, when you realize that Tex has not made a witty quip or even grinned at this show of brotherhood. John deposits him on the couch, and you sit on the floor beside, holding his hand. Your stomach lodges into your chest when you feel how cold he is. Your human heater turned ice box.

“Tex,” you say softly, brushing the untamed thicket of hair from his eyes.

He keeps his eyes closed, but that fond little tick of his mouth lets you know he hears you loud and clear.

You swallow your pride. “I missed you, too.”

You hope to God he’ll harass you for saying that, later.

For now, a grunt will suffice.

This man has put you through hell, but fuck, if he hasn’t been heaven all the way through it. You had really thought he was dying back there, and it…. put things into perspective.

Wick is in the kitchen dwarfing the tiny dining table with Constantine. Not talking, not even looking at one another. Some kind of tension exists between them, but at least it’s not the awkward or homicidal kind… well, at least as far as you can tell.

You grab some cold bourbon from the fridge, pour 3 glasses, and dish them out. Then, you hop up on the counter and join this sinewy silence game.

Wick breaks the skin, twin eyes meeting Constantine’s. “Thank you,” he says.

Constantine grins tightly. “Consider it repayment.”

“For?”

Oh, here we fucking go.

Constantine, the bastard prodigy of Lucifer himself - or, he might as well be - doesn’t answer, instead nudging his chin and shoulder toward you, as if you’re some prize Wick handed to him on a silver platter.

Now, you don’t really know what to expect from John. Fiercely protective, aloof John. But it’s definitely not a grin. A fucking grin. Yeah, he really has gone totally batshit. Terrifying.

Constantine looks stumped, and so do you.

“I’m gonna get going,” Wick says, standing and draping his jacket around his arms. You get a strong wiff of delicious leather and diesel and gunpowder.

“You’re leaving?” This comes out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“Yeah.”

“What about Tex?”

“I’ll be near.”

No use fronting now.

“What if something happens? What if we need you -“

Constantine cuts off your increasingly frantic voice. “I think you should stay.”

It’s Wick’s turn to look stumped. He raises a dark eyebrow. Constantine rewords.

“Please. Stay. We may need you.” Constantine looks over at you, giving that you owe me leer.

Your nerves settle when Wick puts his jacket back on the rack and slips his shoes off, looking at you all the while.

John Wick sleeps in the little broom closet turned guest room, and you and Constantine retire to your bedroom. This place is purely a you sanctuary, with incense burners and tapestries and little trinkets you’ve collected from your travels. It’s a souvenir from your limited therapy sessions, and a much needed safe space.

Before you can shut the bedroom door, you hear John’s monotone voice turn doting. It reminds you of being soothed through an orgasm, him cradling you when you cried - the hum that disarms and breaks you.

You go to him, peaking inside the narrow door that he had to duck to get through. Killy is rubbing against Wick’s torso, purring, headbutting, her tiny fluffy body practically vibrating from the attention of his big hand.

He smiles at you. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, meet Baby Killy. She’s so shy usually.”

“Pretty kitty,” John coos, scratching behind her ears as she chirps for him.

Great, you’re jealous of a cat. Which is stupid because you have a whole other man in the next room that can’t keep his hands off you. You’re selfish, you realize.

“Sorry it’s not comfortable,” you tell Wick, looking at his calves hanging off the tiny mattress. “I can buy an air mattress.”

He twirls Killy’s tail softly around his finger. “It’s fine, y/n. Get some rest.”

“Yeah. Night John.” You leave him, pretending it’s not reluctantly.

Constantine is already in his boxers, cigarette nipped between his teeth. You pluck it from him and take a long drag. “Thought we were supposed to be quitting?” Blowing smoke over his lips.

He tugs you down into the bed with him. “I’ve had a long day.”

“Aw, poor thing.” You kiss his jaw, shimmying the white stick back into his mouth.

Your lips trail feather light down his quivering throat, nose pausing, nuzzling against his quickening pulse. A shy, involuntary smile slides into his collarbone divot. Your magic man shivers under you, makes you feel like you can kick God’s ass if it really comes down to it.

He gently fists your hair in his fingers while you suck the hard day off his skin, hand trailing south on his tight twitching tummy, lazily perusing in search of a swelling, sensitive, beautiful cock trapped in cloth.

He smushes the half cigarette out in your little pearlescent ashtray, tips your face up, kisses you soft. Kisses you like you like you’re some being of fleeting, fragile light and hope. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You grin against his mouth, using that familiar formal, ironic greeting that he favors when you’re both wading knee deep into eachother’s personal space already.

You pull away to look down at his tenting boxers, but your eyes snag something on the way. A big, fresh bruise to his opposite collar - wide and diffuse as if from a large hand. It’s normal for Constantine to have bruises, and he did fight demons today. But this mark? Fresh. Just blooming. Plus, the only one on his long, expansive body.

Your mind thinks back to the kitchen, how they were both so quiet. Looking far too innocent. You feel stupid for not expecting this.

“Did John hit you?” You’ve gotten really good at talking before thinking. Just one of many Constantine mannerisms you’ve picked up along the journey of knowing him.

“We talked.”

You go to get up. No plan in mind except hurting Wick. Really hurting him. Either with words or a quicker fist than he can catch. Probably the latter, since John excels at catching fists, but you still think you can slice him just as much with a few well placed sentences. Of course, you could also try out this nifty new spell of submission..

Constantine holds you in place. “I started it.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” You see him wince at the sinister growl in your voice, and your spiked fur smooths a little bit if only for his benefit. “He’s a fucking asshole. He thinks he can just bully people into submission. Let’s see how he likes it.” You’re talking loud enough that you hope Wick can hear it. You know he’s not scared… because it’s John Wick, but, you at least hope he knows you’re coming for his throat.

“Angel.” Constantine’s long, careful fingers cup your face. “It’s alright. Not tonight. Let you kick his ass tomorrow, okay? Right now, I need you with me. Hey, look at me…. There you are. You hearing me?”

You lean into his touch and kiss his wrist. “Yeah, okay.”

“C’mon.” He pats his chest and you lay your head on it. “Now, where were we..”

You give a little chuckle. “In the pit of despair?”

He gathers your hair and pulls it off your shoulder, tickles his fingers over your neck. “I think…” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” It thrills and scares you a little bit that this man can make such a breathy, desperate mess of you from just a tiny touch.

“Think you should put on some pajamas and let me read to you.”

Suddenly, your anger runs dry, replaced by excitement. He laughs at your hopeful, mystified expression.

“You’re gonna read to me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Better hurry before I change my mind.”

You love it when Constantine reads to you, always mesmerized by that smooth, baritone voice, and it’s not often that he’s up for it.

You don’t bother going into the bathroom to get dressed, which you can tell he appreciates. You can also tell that he loves the fact that you bypass your own clothes entirely and instead throw on one of his big flannels.

You cuddle beside him, wrap your arms around his waist and tuck in for your after dark entertainment.

“Hey, hey, Angel.” It takes you a minute to open your eyes. Constantine assists this process with a pleasant rub between your shoulder blades and a hushed voice.

“Huh?” Your voice is groggy, far away, brain still swimming in twilight.

Constantine gives you a patient stretch of time to wake and groan and wipe the spare drool from your chin. The blue dawn outside tells you that it’s early - way too early. You don’t remember falling asleep, and it must have been a glorious one judging by your wicked bed head and sore voice.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Clint Eastwood won’t let James Bond give him his medicine. He says he wants you to do it.”

“Are you serious?” You ask.

Constantine opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He sighs. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck,” you mumble.

Tex, eyes open, sitting up, cat on his lap, looks at you like you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. Big, appreciative grin. You can’t be annoyed for too long when you see that he has color back in his face.

“Hello, nurse.”

Damn his infectious grin. “What? John’s not a good enough nurse for you?”

“He’s alright. Not very cute, though.” He sizes you up as you roll your eyes and snort.

He gives you a little wink. “See you still hate wearin your own clothes.”

You look down at yourself - at the big cozy button flannel that falls mid thigh with nothing else on under or over it. You really didn’t even think about how exposed you were when you got up and came out here. But, now, you’re flushing and shifting on your feet.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me now, rattlesnake. I’ve had all of it in my mouth anyway, yeah?”

Sinful reels flit through your memories. And, fuck you, but even that makes you so wet you can feel it in the crease of your thighs already.

The reality hits you that this could be a thing, somehow: Johnson and the Johns with you pressed between. You short circuit thinking about it for a solid twenty seconds.

Tex chuckles, pets Killy. “Your momma’s too easy,” he tells her, and the traitor purrs and merrs and pushes into his doting palm as if in agreement.

Great, two treasonous pussy’s in this house.

Plus, you’re about ninety nine percent sure Constantine will do more than curse them if he sees their hands on you in any carnal way. Even though this thing between the two of you is unestablished and unlabeled, your magic man is more than a little possessive.

You remember, fondly, the time he pissed you off, so you went on a date with a nice young gentleman who also happened to be a cop - Johnny, you think his name was. Jesus fuck, you really do have issues - and Constantine blew every fuse in that restaurant with a spell. In the pitch black, no one saw him come pick you right up and carry you out. That night started with “fuck you, Constantine” and ended with “no no agh fuck please m’ sorryjohnsosorry.”

Wick’s nowhere to be found, which you don’t really mind. If you see him again, you might just try kicking him in the dick. You mix Tex’s medicines in the kitchen, heating up the thick herbal soup in a little pot. It smells bad, kinda like fish, draws Killy’s attention really quick.

She brushes against your legs and reminds you that she’s hungry and that oh, that smells good, mom.

You scoop her out a cup of kitty kibble while the stove simmers, then give her a few pets. It’s not often that she’s so doting on you - she prefers Constantine and solidarity over your company. But, she must know something’s up - either that or it’s the fishy concoction steaming up your little kitchen.

Tex winces when you rub the salve into his burn. It looks awful - dry and necrotic, little charred skin flakes sticking to your fingertips.

You scrub them off on a towel, grimacing. “Does this hurt?”

“Numb,” he shrugs. Reaches out to tuck hair behind your ear. Your body reacts violently and insistently. Constantine’s touch, pleasant and warm and diffuse; that’s what you’re used to. You forgot about Tex’s sharp edges, the scary thrill of him. Like the first drop of the roller coaster.

“Tex,” you warn.

“Sorry, darlin. Just so fuckin pretty. Forgot how beautiful you are, is all. How good ya smell. Christ, even with Houdini’s scent all over you.” He pinches your chin in his fingers and makes you look at him, at the sincerity in his blown black pupils and hooded, lustful gaze. “He eatin your pussy right, huh? Need me to show him how to do it?”

“You know,” you say, hating yourself for the thick in your voice, “I have this nifty new spell I can use…”

He chuckles. “Settle down, honeypie, I’m just trying to be nice, is all.”

“Nice.” You glare at him and he lets you go.

The fishy stuff in the mug wipes the grin right off Tex’s face. He chokes and sputters. “Good God, what in hell’s name is this Guacala shit.”

You smile at him and take the empty cup. “Every six hours, cowboy.”

On your way back into the bedroom, he watches you unabashedly. Killy is back on his lap. “You got a shower here, rattlesnake?”

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” you tell him.

“Think I need some help.”

“Uh huh. You can manage.”

“Alright, you got me. I don’t really need help I just wanna fuck the shit outta ya.”

“Sorry, Tex, but that’s-“ you look pointedly at the purring feline in his lap -“the only pussy you’ll be getting in this house.”

You shut your door before you can catch his mumble: “we’ll just see about that.”

Constantine is in his study. You debate going and fucking him on the desk chair, working off this sticky arousal coating your cunt and inner thighs. But, also, you’re still sleepy, and laying down in the bed already has your eyelids fluttering closed and brain going mushy. You struggle between options until your body eventually decides for you.

You wake up to the delicious evocation of salt and fat and heat. John Wick is back. He’s in the kitchen cooking one of those five star breakfasts that are worth letting him live. For now.

Bread pops up from the toaster, startling you. “Hey, that’s been broken.”

“Fixed it,” he says, dexterously flipping his pan. “Got the faucet to work in the bathroom sink. Your drain’s here are built wrong. I’m gonna take a look after I finish breakfast. There’s fresh orange juice and chocolate milk in the fridge. Coffee on the warmer.”

“That’s not my coffee pot.” You eye the expensive looking, silver, sleek appliance with steaming black, delicious smelling brew under.

“I got a new one.”

Are you really surprised at this point? You grab some orange juice from the fridge, and find the once bare shelves stocked and organized with fresh fruits and veggies, eggs and jams, healthy pre-made snack boxes.

The cupboards have also magically filled themselves with canned fruits and veggies, organic breads, high end trail mixes, protein bars.

The place is spotlessly clean. New microwave, an ice maker beside the stove. Real glasses and plates stacked in the cupboards.

Wick has been busy, it seems.

Constantine walks into the kitchen, paying attention to the newspaper in his hand instead of his surroundings until he sees you. “Hey, Angel-“ looks up, takes in the practically brand new kitchen. “What in the fuck.”

#wicked johnson fic #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fic #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #tex johnson #tex johnson x reader #tex johnson x you #yandere tex johnson #constantine x you #john constantine x you #constantine 2005 #john constantine x reader #constantine x reader #keanu reeves

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voidsumbrella · 2 years

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@yumantimatter @evangelifloss

the tea party was super fun (im probably going to post my ch2 ~thoughts all in bulk when i reach the end since i didn't... have a whole lot to say about the date scenes tbh ^^;;; )

im running into a bit of a block re: theories because 1) idt ch1 gave me enough information on the specifics of the crime scenes, and 2) we haven't brought up my two major mental sticking points at all:

if pretty much everyone has motivation, why are we assuming there is only one killer?

if we're assuming there is only one killer, why were we so quick to rule out there being a 19th human?

elaboration on that latter one under the cut

the ushiromiyas are rich and got rich by being huge shitheads, there's no shortage for motivations outside of the family; covering their tracks by making this into an ~occult horror story~+ playing into beatrice's legend is maybe overly flashy, but not overwhelmingly out there. rokkenjima's small, but it isn't that small, and it's heavily forested; someone shows up via rowboat a day or so prior, camps out in the woods, then day of heads in through the boiler room or something- we've already stated they've been lax about security until pretty recently, and that there are a whole bunch of master keys floating around for the servants, and boom, you have an unknown factor.

with the exception of natsuhi and kanon we don't actually know the cause of death for anyone at all.

the first six were stated to have been disfigured after death and would have only needed to have been killed in literally any other way and hit with a weedwhacker or some shit over the course of 6 hours

eva and hideyoshi were barely examined, and you could easily fake the stake thing with a nonpowered hand drill and a large bit after killing them with another method. none of the survivors checked anything other than the bodies, briefly- if there were literally any human-sized hiding spots in the room, the killer could have just hidden until they left.

the receipt re: kinzo could have been noticed by whoever else entered and replaced after luring him out by pretending to be (for the sake of the idea that this is a normal human) beatrice; his body was burned, we have no clue what killed him.

nanjo/genji/kumasawa weren't examined at all

natsuhi was shot, and the description of her body was vague enough- iirc it was just "blood was running down her forehead"- to rule out the kids (who were already fucking panicking) misreading what happened

assuming kanon's perspective was accurate his death throws things for a loop a bit, since we know for a fact he was stabbed with the stake, but we're already doing implausible gun customization [how in the hell do you modify a double barreled rifle that takes 30x30 rounds to shoot one revolver bullet? if this gets explained please dont tell me], maybe they had an air powered launcher or some shit.

the kids aren't explained at all

like none of this is outside the realm of human possibility for a showstopping mystery performance, and aside from narrative convenience idk why we ruled it out!

playing within the established rules- it needs to either be one of the 18 or a witch- i have no real theories aside from it maybe being multiple members of the party cannibalizing each other, bc i do think its implausible for any one person to have killed all of the other 17 given what we presently know.

anyway, im assuming we'll be getting more and different information in round 2, so ill keep yall posted on my thoughts!

#real life mango #umineko #caveat that my memory isnt spotless and i mostly screencapped what was funny #which means im probably missing some major points #but this is spitballing anyway so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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p0plotte · 1 year

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Wanderer of The Stars

Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

—•—

—-

ALDION WRITTEN BY @catvari

—-

Hell. Hot, damp, and generally uncomfortable to be in for the average person. A lot less dry than you’d think, surprisingly enough. It’s more like Florida dialed up to 21. Anyway, yeah, the average person would be absolutely miserable in hell. Demons on the other hand.. they’re pretty damn comfortable there. But with comfort, there’s always certain individuals who want more out of their life. Demons especially so. Hell, that’s why so many of them leave to go to earth.

..Aldion just so happened to be one of them. On a particularly normal day in Hell, he decided to make his move. He drew a circle on the floor, lighting candles and whatnot, before standing in the middle of it and waiting for someone to summon him. He put his hands on his sides and waited, and waited.. and waited. He started getting impatient, his demonic tail swishing a bit side to side. It’s already almost been an hour, and nobody has even tried to summon a demon? Seriously?

“Tch.. how is nobody even trying?! Aren’t there like, thousands of cults on Earth?! They should be fighting over me right now, a bona-fide demon!”

He grumbled, an irritated expression on his face before, finally, he felt something. The circle began glowing, and he sighed in relief. He stomped his foot on the symbol, and he appeared elsewhere, in a school classroom, surrounded by students. He looked around, the students looking at him in awe. He appears to be in some sort of occult club room..

“Hmph, about time you called me here! I almost had to take matters into my own hands!”

He took a step out of the circle, the students too flabbergasted that it actually worked to stop him.

“You should feel honored that I, Aldion, graced your presence! You know what? Because you made my job easier, I’ll leave you a present.”

He snaps his fingers and a small box appeared in the middle of the circle.

“Some basic human wants.. money, food, games, yada yada whatever. Now, I’ve got places to be! Farewell, mortals!”

He snaps his fingers once more, taking on the appearance of a human student to avoid suspicion, and leaves the room. Another demon is loose on Earth. Great

The mountains were steep today, snow melting off slowly from the warm spring air. As winter faded into spring it seemed humans became more eager to do reckless things. This happened every year, once the sun began to shine its light more often human teens and children became much more prone to self endangering acts if it meant fun for the summer.

Atop the snowy mountains lived an oni. One that could easily make her form more human-like to fit in with other humans. Speaking of humans, she was sat in a classroom full of them at the moment. Once class had been let out she felt this.. aura. Upon stepping into the hallway she felt her stomach churn, a darkness clogging her senses.

A demon.

“Please excuse me..”

She parted from her very small friend group to go off and explore the source of this aura. Once she turned a corner an overwhelming dread washed over her. It had to be the one walking up the stairs in her direction..

The yokai stepped back around the corner to catch her breath, holding her hand over her mouth. Just what the hell were those occult kids thinking?! They always pulled shit like this.. she just knew this was related to them somehow. Did they not understand the true dangers of summoning demons?..

“How sickening..” She murmured, “Euu..”

The demon, in human form, made his way up the stairs, absolutely certain that nobody could tell he was a demon. Unfortunately, he didn’t know there was an Oni here. He smugly walked through the hallway, assuming it to be empty.

“Ah.. finally, out of that humid hell!”

He smirks as he makes his way past the Oni, his tunnel vision not noticing her in the slightest. He looks around a bit before noticing a backpack lying on the ground. This could very well make it easier to blend in with the other humans.. and after all, if someone was careless enough to just leave it lying there, they surely deserved for it to be stolen. He quickly puts it on before continuing to walk through the hallway, making his way toward the glowing green exit sign. If anyone questions him.. he can just say his ‘parents’ called him out sick, and they’ll surely let him leave. It’s a foolproof plan!

Smooth strands of black hair fell in front of her face as she watched the demon stroll through the halls. Maybe he couldnt sense her? Or simply put, she was really good at hiding it.

She watched as he took her bag which she’d just so happened to drop when slumping against the wall, unsure of if he really couldn't see her. She couldn't help but make a small look of disgust. Greedy, filthy demons invading a place which wasn't theirs to invade.

lThe oni gathered herself, and with a kick in her step ran after the demon. After they’d both exited the building she finally spoke.

“Do all demons take others things without asking, or is that just a you thing?” *She inquired,* “Let me take a wild guess and say you were just summoned from the occult club and think you’re alone here. Right on the money, yeah?”

He stayed quiet for a moment before turning around and facing the oni, a confused look on his face. He tried to feign innocence, making a shocked expression.

“What.. what are you talking about? Demon..? Are you.. calling me a demon? I’m.. offended! Yeah! I feel deeply hurt!”

He crosses his arms and turns back around.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about anyway! I’m just going home because I tested positive for an illness, and I don’t appreciate your false accusations!”

He began walking once more, but in his head, he began thinking to himself.

‘Eh?! Already?! She.. how did she know?! Was my disguise THAT flawed?! I look exactly like a normal human, don’t I?!’

He kept up his facade of normalcy on the outside, but inside, he was starting to become worried. Who.. is this girl?

As he spoke she continued to follow. She even began to walk on top of the railing to the stairs which lead from the doors off campus. Once they’d reached the bottom she hopped off the railing, landing right in front of the boy.

The ravenette placed one hand on a crystal which was implanted into her chest, the other she used to hold up the other's chin to make direct eye contact. Within seconds, a vibration reverberated from the crystal- and in their own little bubble, the horns, tail and face paint of the oni were perfectly visible. With this the other’s disguise was foiled as well.

“Would you like to try that again, demon-boy?” She pursed her lips, “Red skin.. white hair.. black and yellow eyes.. gee, I’d hate to be needlessly picking apart some cute halloween costume of yours if that’s really your excuse.”

He was definitely caught off guard by her landing in front of him, and even moreso by her grabbing his chin. Just who does this oni think she is?! He pulls away flabbergasted, but quickly tries to regain his composure. He clears his throat, before realizing that his disguise is, in fact, gone. He grits his teeth and backs up a bit, clearly a bit worried, but he takes a deep breath to compose himself.

“Alright, fine! So what if I’m a demon?! What makes you any better than me, Oni?! Hell, I was minding my own business until you started chasing after me!”

He crosses his arms, giving the oni girl a defiant look as he began to back up a bit more.

“Hell is the place you should be. Not here.”

Every step back he took she took a step forward. She was extremely composed, it seemed this flustered the demon much more than it flustered the oni. She removed her hand from her chest, eyes narrowing.

“The oni here were sent by the gods to protect this world from demons such as yourself. That is what gives me my foothold in this situation. We may have similar DNA patterns, but we have very different origins and intentions.” She paused, “I am simply protecting the humans I was sent to watch over. Pardon me for being weary of an intruder.”

Her voice was monotone, laced with small hints of sarcasm here and there. He wasn't getting away anytime soon if he didnt start talking.

He gulps, his voice becoming a bit shaky. Of all the people to run into upon arriving here, he just HAD to run into an oni, huh? He takes another few steps back before hitting the wall of this little bubble they were in. His eyes widen a bit before he takes yet another deep breath in.

“I’m not even here to do anything bad, man! I’m just.. bored of hell! That’s all, honest! Why’re you getting so close to me?! You can ask me these dumb questions from the other side of this dumb little bubble!”

He tries to give off an aura of confidence and belligerence, but his tail is saying otherwise, drooping as if he were unsure, afraid even. Knowing this, he tries to hide his tail behind himself. He narrows his eyes to continue his false impression of confidence, attempting to get the oni to back off.

“Hm? Claustrophobic?”

She covered her mouth and began to giggle a little.. a claustrophobic demon? Nonetheless one so evidently intimidated by her? It was kind of endearin-…

She fell silent. Even that thought alone struck a chord in her. One that made her sick, as if a spile had been shot directly through her guts.

“Well, demon- if that’s the case,” *She stepped forward once again till their noses touched,* “I cannot permit you to walk on this Earth freely. But, for now I can do something to allow you to stay.”

From the palm of her hand emitted a glowing collar, one which was only the basic outlines of one. It wrung itself around the boy's neck till it looked like he had some sort of odd tattoo.

The closer it was to the ring on her hand, the more it would sting. It was a precautions that she only used when certain a demon wouldn't hurt a fly. Though.. she hadn't needed to use it yet- not till today. Usually, she’d just kill the demons.

“You may roam the Earth, but for now you’re on thin ice. It may seem inconvenient for you, but trust me, this is a big pain in my ass too. It ruins my daily schedule entirely..”

”Are.. are you kidding me?!”

He pulls back again, somehow even more flabbergasted by her nose touching his. He would have fallen over, if it wasn’t for the barrier behind him. He grabs his neck, trying to get whatever it is off, but it’s no use. He breathes heavily, and his facade of confidence dissolves.

“What did.. what did you just do to me?! Explain yourself!!”

His face reddens a bit from fear and embarrassment. He has no clue what just happened, but he knows it can’t be good for him in the slightest. He felt the stinging as her ring got closer to his neck, and he instinctively tried to pull away.

Philophobia. The fear of love, adoration, endearment, and attachment. Unknowingly, she had just signed herself up to become attached to someone. Whether it was her duty or not, it would become a burden for her. She took her hand back from the collar tattoo, watching as the glow it emitted slowly faded, along with the heat. The steam from around the demon's neck caused smog to stain the sides of the bubble, like a hot breath in the cool air.

“I told you, demon. You may not walk this Earth freely, or you will be brutally slaughtered. Not by myself, but by other onis that are not so forgiving of the demon race. So now,” *She held up her hand so he could get a good look at her ring. The gem on it resembled the crystal which was engraved in her chest, “You’re the dog to the House of Fei. I don't expect you to be a dog, that is simply your title. When other oni see the mark, they’ll know to leave you be.”

She lowered her hand and shook her head with a sigh, backing away from the pitifully weak demon. He was quite lucky actually, that it had been her he ran into and not her fellow oni.

“Plus.. I’m not certain I can trust your word. It’s safer for me and you this way.” She hummed, “I’m Mingxia Fei. We’ll become well acquainted from now on.”

”..dog? A dog?! Why does THAT have to be my title of all things?! A little respect would be appreciated..”

He crosses his arms as she backs away, visibly offended by being referred to as a dog of all things. He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes again as he glares at Mingxia, a look of annoyance plastered on his face.

“And.. and stop talking like you just did me a favor! I woulda gotten along perfectly fine, but no! You just had to but in..”

He pouts as he looks away in an almost childish manner. For a demon, this guy is almost painfully immature at times..

“Plus, I don’t think you deserve to know my name. This sort of harsh treatment is beneath me, y’know? You need to be a little nicer, oni!”

“It's just the title.. I dont see you as one. You can move up rank titles if you’re good from what I’ve heard.”

She has obviously never done this before.

Mingxia’s gaze failed to waver as the other backed off and looked away. She sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m only going to say this one more time; the six other onis would have ripped you apart.”

For a demon, he was extremely childish.. It was a little funny. She got close up to him once more and used the unringed hand to start gently petting his hair. She ran her fingers through it slowly, playing with the tufts that had been sticking up.

“Is this nice enough for you, demon boy?”

He immediately went somehow even redder in the face and tried to pull back, his eyes wide and a flabbergasted look on his face. He stammered for a few moments before managing to finally spit out the words, his voice cracking.

“W-what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He ducks down and covers his head, burying his face in his shirt to avoid her doing that again as he lets out a little whimper.

“W-what makes you think you can just do that to me?!”

He looks insanely embarrassed at the moment. That was quite possibly the last thing he expected to happen right now..

She watched as he retreated into his shirt like a small child and frowned. Had she done something wrong? She swore that children adored being pet like that. Then again.. he wasn't actually a child. He just acted like one.

“I thought I was being nice..” She murmured, “Apologies if I scared you. It was not my intention..”

The ravenette put her hands behind her back, white horns almost shining in the light of the sun. Though the day wasn't one resembling the summer.. no. It was much more like a cloudy yet simultaneously bright day. Foggy, even.

“You have no home here, right? So you may as well take this opportunity as a good thing.”

”S-scared? Me?! Oh, please! I just.. didn’t expect you to do that!!”

His voice is a bit muffled from his face still being buried in his shirt, and he’s still as embarrassed as earlier, but he feigns confidence with his voice, hoping that the oni doesn’t notice just how flustered he is. He’s far too proud to admit that.

“And.. what exactly are you implying? Me? Live with you? As if! Never in a thousand years!!”

He shakes his head defiantly, hugging his knees.

She sighed, purple irises glazing over with a look of exhaustion. What a difficult demon.. but at least he wasn't violent.

“I never said that. I just hinted at the fact that there is a place you could live for now.”

Living with a demon? As if. Maybe some of her fellow oni would use them as spies or apprentices, maybe even minions- but she’d rather not.

Inviting a demon into her home was a load of trouble waiting to crumble down onto her shoulders.

“But, if you’d rather live poor and alone on the streets, then I won't stop you.” She cocked her head to the side, “It won't be any different than the life you lived before in hell.”

”Won’t be any different..?!”

He raises his head from his shirt, still red, but more so due to frustration. Still embarrassment obviously, but mostly frustration. He pouts, clearly getting more upset by the minute.

“H-how could you possibly know what my life is like, huh?! You’re just some self-righteous oni!”

He stares up at Mingxia for a bit longer before sighing and looking back down.

Without hesitation she took hold of him by the collar of his shirt, holding him up against the back of the bubble.

“An Oni is a demon. Simply one that has been repurposed for god. I used to be exactly where you are. Have you not brushed up on your history lessons?” She narrowed her eyes, “If you need any evidence, hopefully this will suffice.”

She set him back down rather gently.. in high contrast to how intimidating she unintentionally came across as. The oni took her hands and slowly unbuttoned her dress shirt. On her stomach a large pentagram symbol was implanted onto her skin. Though seemingly it had been ‘rewritten’ by the symbol of an eye over it, glowing the closer her ring got to it.

“So the choice is yours. Live a better life with some restrictions, or live a lonesome, similar life to the one you had prior.”

He didn’t even get the chance to see the pentagram as he quickly covered his face in response to her unbuttoning her shirt, his fear suddenly vanishing and being replaced with sheer embarrassment.

“W-WHUH?!”

He can barely even speak, stammering far too much to even form a coherent sentence. For a demon who was acting so superior earlier, he’s acting drastically different at this point. He continued to look away as he slowly tried to regain himself, breathing heavily as he shut his eyes tightly.

“W-where.. where would I even live?! I obviously can’t live alongside you..!”

“Is there something wrong? Apologies.. I didn't realize my symbol would make you afraid.”

Mingxia quickly rebuttoned her shirt up, obviously a bit confused. Had she done something wrong? Mayhaps the eye of an angel which was implanted over the pentagon was a bit scary.. even if it was more like a tattoo than a real eye.

“There is a small community home and café in town which I believe you’d fit in with just fine.. they’re somewhat dare-devils themselves.” She sighed, “The school day is almost over. We should move quickly.”

With this she pressed her hand against the gem on her chest once more and watched as it’s vibrations reversed their true forms, once again disguising their non-human features.

“A demon being a sitting duck is just asking for trouble anyway.”

”Y-yeah, yeah, sure, whatever! Let’s just get moving already!”

He quickly turns away, throwing the backpack back on his shoulders as he begins walking towards the town at a high speed. He’s clearly still flustered and whatnot, unable to even look back at Mingxia. He’s red in the face, a lot more noticeable now that he’s in his human disguise, and his heart is racing. He just got here, and this sort of thing has already occurred? What the hell is happening here?

——•——

The oni was a quick mover. She hardly stopped to chat with the people around her, in fact she’d rather not. Then she’d have to explain why in her arms she was carrying a grumpy school boy bridal style.

Her ring gleamed under the slowly setting sun, amethyst gem’s purple light gleaming in the dark.

“Here we are.”

Mingxia stopped in front of a shop which the windows were covered in, it was a tad bit peculiar but oh well. She began to walk up the steps which led to the dormitory part, and with a bit too much ease kicked the door open.

She gently closed it behind her, and then proceeded to drop Aldion on the floor.

“This will be your group home if you don't wish to live with me, I feel you’ll get along with the people here just fine.”

Aldion makes an “oof” sound when he hits the floor, rubbing his behind, which took the brunt of the fall. He’s still in his human facade, appearing to be an ordinary, blonde human, standing at around 5’7.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?! Just because you’ve done whatever you did, it doesn’t make me a lesser to you, you hear?!”

He pushes himself off the floor, dusting his uniform off. He turns to Mingxia with an annoyed look, placing his hands on his hips and pouting.

“I deserve more respect than this, you hear me?!”

She sighed, purple irises filling with a look of annoyance. Still, she composed herself to where she was calm once more with a few deep breaths. Black strands of hair fell before her eyes as she knelt down to the demon’s level.

She gently began to pet his hair and even rubbed his back after..

“There, there.. I apologize. I should have set you down normally. It slipped my mind that you wouldn't land on your feet.” She frowned, “I do, however, respect you. I respect all living creatures. That is besides the point though. Will this place be alright?”

It’s not like she lingered in her temple much anyhow.. he would be rather lonely if he lived with her and refused to go out and about with her.

”Hmph..”

He looks around. Looks like some kind of.. dormitory. Nobody appears to be present right now, but there does appear to be something cooking on the stove. He sniffs the air. Ribs. He walks around the room, taking the scenery in with his false azure eyes, his illusion masking his true, yellow ones. He sits on the couch. Soft.. good. He stands up and continues to inspect the area, looking around for a little while longer before returning to Mingxia.

“Hmph. This place seems.. fine enough. Decent, even. Thanks.. I guess. Now you can take your leave, I’ll just relax here for the time being.”

He crosses his arms. He clearly likes the place, but he appears to still be acting defiantly. Almost like a child..

#oc #oc story #og works #wanderer of the stars #wots #og writing #creative writing #woah women #women are so pretty #i love women #silly silly

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stalksbyakuyatogami · 3 years

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Oh my god, successfully summoning an ancestor with the V3 boys was amazing! Thank you so much! Could you do the same thing with the V3 Girls (exept Kaede because she is in your Blacklist)?

Summoning An Ancestor With V3 Girls!

aaaaaaaaaaa!! thank you anon!! im glad you liked it :))

warning: might be a long read

Himiko Yumeno

•You thought you'd excite her? The opposite. Sure, she always bragged about her magic, but she's actually all bark no bite. Just when you thought her magic would finally be put into use. She even refused doing it when she heard the ancestor part. There's no way in hell that she'd want to witness a phantom in this school. Especially at the third floor. But by some miracle and bribery, you managed to drag her in.

•She was slightly quivering just by the ambience of the room. It was a bit dark, just lit up by a few candles that barely even did their job. Although, she was curious of all the things that you had laid out. She would take a few glances on it every second, not sure if to feel fear or curiousity.

•When the spirit appeared, all she could do was tearfully and fearfully watch the ascending spirit. She was frozen in place. She might be fearing it, but she also thought that it was awesome. If she was a mage, she could do this all the time.

•She just stood there the whole time you talked to your ancestor. She ahd questions of her own, but she's just trying to bottle them all up, hoping that you'd miraculously ask them. As if channeling her thoughts you.

•After you were done, she was speechless. She was trying to process everything that just happened. She asked you if she can ask some questions too next time. Let her ask please xD.

Kirumi Tojo

•She's intrigued. It's the first time that she's having this request... but it's more like a favor. Same thing right? She'd like to see a spirit too. She might use this information someday, who knows. She agreed.

•She looked at all the things you had on the floor. Very dangerous. So she would guide you on how to use it properly. You might mess something up, but she's there to help.

•She was on alert when you started chanting unfamiliar words, but she remained calm and rational. Her hand will be ready to grab yours in case you had to flee. Your ancestor appeared earlier than you expected. She took just a step back when the spirit emerged. Intimidated by the spirit, she suggested that you two get out. But when the spirit spoke that you two can stay, she calmed down, but of course she's still on guard.

•While you conversed with your ancestor, she was observing it. Trying to identify which century they came from. She was trying to figure out if she would know how to serve them if they were still alive. Disregarding that, she's behaved and formal towards the spirit. She kept quiet the whole time and had her hands on top of the other, listening to the whole conversation.

•When you ended the session, she exhaled a breath of relief and congratulated you for doing a great job handling the spirit. There was something bugging her mind and you couldn't figure out what that was. But she reassured you that it was nothing. She agreed to come again the next time you perform another summoning.

Angie Yonaga

•This actually piqued her interest. She might be an artist, but she also takes interest in occult. So obviously, she's agree with you right away. She's excited, to be honest. But first, you'd hold a prayer to Atua. Pray for it to be successful. You couldn't escape her, so you just joined her, or you waited until she finished.

•She was humming while you two were heading for the room. When she saw your materials, her interest shot up. She even asked you if you needed a pint of blood because she'll get it right away. You tell her that a pint is not needed. In fact, you didn't need anything that was out of this room. Everything necessary is already here.

•She was a bit disappointed when no spirit appeared 8 seconds after you called it. And she presumed that maybe Atua didn't like this time and day fir the summoning. She would take her words back when it finally appeared. Amazement was glossing her eyes. How amazing Atua is.

•She was the one to ask questions first. What can you do? She's hella curious! The phantom was overwhelmed with the questions and eventually stopped answering them. She promised to keep quiet while you asked for advice but only if you'll let her ask more questions when you finish. She hummed while you communicated so it was kinda distracting. She's just excited give her a break xD.

•When you two were finished, she gave you her insight and told you that it was an amazing experience! She would love to do it with you again. She might just summon Atua next time!

Maki Harukawa

•Maki gave you a questioning look. What? A summoning? You seriously believe in that? That's nothing but a wishful thinking. But seeing that you insist so bad, she had no choice but to come with you. She just wants your mouth to shut up, so she agreed.

•The materials you had were pretty unfamiliar to her considering she's an assassin. She thinks this is all just bullshitry, nothing more. She has to put up with it though. She actually helped you do the methods, correcting whenever you get something wrong.

•Maki got tired of waiting after 10 seconds. "I already told you. This is not working." Which she'd immediately take back. The phantom loomed over you two. She creased her eyebrows. She still can't believe. But she had no choice but to suck it up. She nervously swallowed and grabbed something that wasn't there; a weapon.

•She stood there, despising the phantom a bit, but still listened to what it said. She didn't have her personal questions; regarding the killing game that is. She had all the questions on her mind. Who? What? Why? How? HOW?! She was making a weird face that slightly disturbed the spirit.

•When you finished the session, she told you how weird that experience was. But she's relieved that you got some advice from them. Might not go with you the next time. Not because she's terrified of the ghost. She thinks it's hella weird and it sends a shiver up her spine.

Tenko Chabashira

•"S-s-summoning?! Thats kinda... new..." She's a bit creeped out. Just the thought of seeing a ghost is enough to make her cringe. She asks you if you're sure. Just in case you change your mind, she'd still be supporting you.

•You led her up to the third floor of the school. She was a bit fidgety and she always asks you if you'd change your mind right now. She was shocked of all thr items in the room. She was alarmed and posed defensively. She had no idea how all of these work, so she read the instructions on the book and helped you even just a little bit.

•She was actually relieved that your ancestor didn't appear... yet. The relief immediately went away when the translucent spirit came to... life. How ironic. She was actually terrified of the spirit now. She hidea behind your back, promising to defend you if anything happens.

•She was behind you the whole time you talked. She wouldn't dare utter a word. But maybe she'll sneak her catchphrase in when your ancestor is male. She watched the spirit with anxious and confused eyes.

•She was extremely relieved when you were done. It was like getting rid of the thorn on her side. She felt easy again. I doubt that she'd go with you the next time... That was terrifying. Who knew spirits were real?

Miu Iruma

•She's quite disgusted of the thought. You still believe in those things at your age? Pathetic. Believe in technology instead! Now come here and let me test this new invention of mine! Its functions are—! She agreed to join you. But just for research purposes and future references. Decided to make an impromptu camera to tape the summoned spirit. That might just be a breakthrough.

•She was full of complaints during your trip. She held her camera to where all the necessary objects for the ritual was placed. Istg she might be doing a documentary. Bad commentator I would say. She dissed all the objects that you had laid out. What the hell, man? She didn't help you. She just picked these up and observed it through the camera. She filmed your process.

•She was impatiently waiting for the ghost to appear. She was about to turn her camera off when she heard the phantom's booming voice. She cowered in fear, almost dropping her camera. She hid behind your back, whimpering.

•She watched your ancestor fearfully while you asked questions. She would mutter unholy things under her breath and you would be distracted by that. Like, do souls have pps or something of the sort.

•She only filmed half of the thing. Let's just hope that that ghost and the audio show up in the recordings. She wouldn't accompany you ever again. That shit was terrifying.

Tsumugi Shirogane

•She was excited. But of vourse, she evaluated everything before she agreed with you. Summoning was both heart-throbbing and curious for her. So obviously, she wouldn't back out.

•She was quiet during the trip to the third floor. But she certainly had a smile on her face and stars for eyes. She was intrigued with all thr object you had laid out. She even grabbed one and tried to run it across her skin. But for safety purposes, yo told her to stop as it would ruin the ritual. She gladly obliged. She still observed the objects very closely though.

•She was starting to sigh as 8 seconds rolled by and nothing came out of your ritual. Just as she was about to leave, she squeaked at the spirit's frightening voice. She went back to her place and quietly apologized while she had her head down.

•She was just there... with her sparkling eyes boring into the summoned soul. She had all sorts of questions, and her face was turning pink. Probably from excitement. She had to bottle up all those questions too.

•After the session, she was too awestruck to utter a single word. She had sparkles in her eyes and her hands were merged together. She grabbed yours and enthusiastically said, "Let's do it again next time, S/O!"

I'll fix the errors later. Thank you for requesting, anon.

-Mod Toko [Maki Shift]♡

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ladyyatexel · 3 years

Text

I Went On A Manga Binge

So you don't have to

For those of you who have wisely avoided the shreds of it I've left around the blog thus-far, I had some weird notion to go re-experience Yu-Gi-Oh uuuuuh a week ago? We'll go with that. Time is meaningless.

I'd been able to read a good portion of the early manga at the end of highschool, and somewhere in my stacks and stacks of paper is fanart from this dark time, so you know I cared. I also still own a Dark Magician action figure somehow, so. I'd also watched a large portion of the anime with my brother because it had been laced with some kind of crack and we couldn't look away? I remember when we both were just like shit, wait, don't change the channel, I can't stop looking at it. And the next thing we knew we were waiting for new episodes and I was doing research on the Japanese original because I was that kid.

Anyway, unnecessary backstory out of the way, here are some... let's call them Observations and Consequences of having read somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 chapters (and growing) of a manga primarily hinged on card games from a spectrum of sources ranging from boringly lawful to sketchy as fuck.

Surprise actual character that develops in typical shounen fashion being Jounouchi. My limited experiences with the 4Kids dub and only early manga had not painted him in a particularly good light. I don't know if episodes were being aired out of order or if I had just missed the ones that established that he was making shit up as he was going along, but Wow I liked him a lot more going through the manga than I ever did watching the (dubbed, heavily edited and censored and thrown into a slurry machine) anime. I'd managed to come out with the impression that he was just as reasonably experienced with the game as Yugi back in the day. Wild.

I'm now reading every single comic-style post on Tumblr backwards.

Striking inverse to first point, wow, I don't like Seto Kaiba. Though he gets points for his general philosophy of the future, and the line I read in my sketchy online combo of scans and scanlations in which he said, "If God is in your way, you run him down," was Metal As Fuck. I somewhat shame-facedly admit to enjoying him a lot more as an Abridged Series character. (I watched Abridged as it came out back in the day! The experience of watching the anime with my brother had been so fresh that I got all the in jokes about the way things were edited and dubbed, it was great. Series remains influential part of my life to this day, which is hella weird.)

I almost understand how Duel Monsters works now. I don't want this.

That said, wow a lot of the decisions made in the anime made everything a lot more ridiculous than the admittedly already ridiculous original. I got the distinct feeling in the manga that the Duelist Kingdom stuff we were seeing was designed to be used and exploited in ways that don't make sense in an actual cardgame just played on a table like a normal person and this was part of testing everyone to think higher, differently. Maybe this is obvious to everyone already, I don't know. I had always liked that it was very, 'Not so fast, I'm going to blow up the moon to change the tides,' but I'm not really sure the anime gave enough explanation that this was an extra layer added to things for that event? You can see people actively getting used to it in the books, and people who aren't considering the real or 3D nature of it getting owned, but my memory of anime version is everyone just like, 'oh, shucks, fuck me, I forgot to consider the phase of the moon before i played this card, can't believe I forgot.' No one calls Yugi on any of this stuff because it's valid play in that situation. Plus Yami Yugi had mad trickster energy in the beginning and it suited him to think of ways to do things inside these little simulation boxes the way it suited him to set perverts on fire. I imagine the real card game trying to emulate this element as something that would be to its detriment, but I neither know nor particular care haha

Ryou Bakura.

Really, though. I think he became kind of casualty of 'wow, we have a lot of characters who really aren't able to do anything in this story anymore,' despite the fact that his whole inner life could have been as interesting as Yugi's. I always like thinking about the possibilities of stories in which main character falls into magical world and is given magical item and told they're the hero and then they find out they've been the bad guy the whole time. The first several volumes of manga were about the quiet weirdo kid that no one talked to who was always blacking out and turning into a fucked up version of himsef because he was so attached to his ancient Egyptian jewelry, so like, Bakura could have much the same shit going on. I want to know what's happening with him so much. He clearly doesn't love being possessed, but he's also so drawn to the ring. Despite it having stabbed him at least twice and him knowing it's a danger to him and his friends, he keeps being pulled back into it. You see so much more of him being like, 'Oooh, a creepy thing, I love that! :D' in the manga than ever in the anime, which I'm all about. Also more blood. I'm very about that as well. Though my memory of the anime also made it look very much like normal regular daily Bakura was just a weird facade in places before he ever would have been. I think that was it trying to compensate for what people didn't see from the Toei anime, but okay whatever, that I love everything about this guy is not news, I don't need to talk about Bakura excessively here, I'm pretty sure that's gonna show up on my blog by itself

On a related note though, damn, more of these people need to talk to each other. Can we have some existential crisis support clubs or something. Can we get like some apologies or something? "I respect you as a duelist." "Cool, but you literally built a tower designed to specifically assassinate me and my friends? You were supposed to get Better after I retaliated by putting you in a coma, but you kinda didn't." "Why would the coma have made it better" "I just told you it didn't" ---- "Sorry I went along with the plan of your evil parasite stabbing you, misled you, and then also jumped in and took up some real estate in your head too." "I understand, I also have an evil thing inside me that does things while I'm blacked out." "...no, I was conscious for all of that." "Oh." "..." "..." "..." "Do you like Ouija Boards?" "sure okay" ETC. Like damn we are reading shounen manga because no one is talking extensively about their feelings here and I'm tapping my foot angrily.

Holy shit there are so many mythologies happening at once. The ancient family guarding the Egyptian Pharaoh has a surname that's a Mesopotamian goddess. None of the god cards make any Egyptian sense except Ra, and just like. Baaarrrrely. Somewhere either Evil Ring Bakura or Mar/lik makes a reference to cremation and spirits being taken to heaven with smoke which several things, but definitely not Ancient Egyptian. Marik/Malik meanwhile is clearly trying to head Arabic, along with Rishid, but then, hey, our sister is just Isis. Goddess McGoddess. Sometimes they're the same goddess! Her name could be Isis Isis or Ishtar Ishtar. Meanwhile, all the obviously 'occult because Christians think it is freaky' stuff. ~ancient egyptian pentagrams~~~This isn't a complaint, I guess so much as a 'Wow, I can kind of see the cultural spot the author was coming from and where he was aiming' kind of thing.

Wonder where things would have gone if the card games had not been latched onto the way they were.

Managed to forget how gross the pre-cardgames stuff was on the sexual harassment front. I'm glad there was a sort of explanation of everyone drifting away from being dick heads and that that decision was made. It got way more comfortable to read after no one was bringing Yugi p*rn on VHS.

Yugi looks better with a nose, glad we got that upgrade.

Interesting to watch the series style shift as it goes away from being horror to being over the top cardgames and friendship (with blood!). The first picture of Mokuba is fucking Jarring. Also noticed that the nicer a character is, the less their teeth are defined.

Glad manga did not go as completely off the fucking the rails about Marik's face. I never got as far as seeing him back in the day because college occurred, but I remember seeing pictures and stuff and being like, "what in the Fuck happened to that dude, I think the house style has collapsed in on itself"

Things the author Really Likes: motorcycles, belts, SHOES, holy shit the shoes. These are some of the most lovingly rendered sneakers I've ever seen. All the detail on his characters goes straight to their feet and then it's stretched upward until it forms stiff peaks. Gently fold in 3000 years of trauma and bake face down in a crumb coat of scattered mythology. Remove when you roll two zeros.

Where the fuck am I going to put the extremely large omnibus volumes of this comic I purchased in order to balance out how much I would be reading for free on the internet. I should have grasped that a three in one edition would be Thick and yet somehow I was still :O when it arrived. Have I strategically purchased volumes that contain my favorite parts, maybe, what's it to you will i eventually get the whole thing because incomplete book series gnaw on my soul? yes

Wish the transition from "I've murdered several people in delightfully karmic ways" to "all you need is friendship in your heart and cards in your hand" Yami Yugi/Pharaoh had been discussed more/transitioned better. Buddy, where did you get this approved for television high horse? Please go back to strangling people with yo-yos or at least tell me why you stopped.

I still can't tell anything that looks like a big robotic monster apart from any other big robotic monster. My dude, I can't tell cars apart, all these monsters look the same.

Yami Yugi fascinated me way more in highschool? Maybe because it was still super early and the anime was like 'we need to torture you about his origins WeEkLy. Now I'm just like 'wait hold on, can we go back to Bakura and Marik for a minute, there's some extreme unpacking to do here?' Those two are paying so much more in baggage fees here my guy wow

Violently uninterested in any of the spinoff media

#yugioh #yu gi oh #ygo #there you go i can't imagine any other way you would decide was necessary to tag this #perhaps now that i have thrown this up i can #something #i don't know how i was going to finish that sentence #shut up lady

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imagining-in-the-margins · 5 years

Text

The Objective & The Occult (S.R.)

Summary: Reader's a witch and Spencer's a scientist, can I make it any more obvious? Request: Reader is a specialty major in religion with the dialogue: "There is NOTHING scientific about the occult" - Reid, a man of science. “Bitch." - Reader. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, lots of cussing, hatefuck, protected sex, degradation, religious themes, astrology Word Count: 3.3k

MASTERLIST

I had really, honestly thought I was being nice and doing a favor when I volunteered to help the FBI on a case of recent murders occurring just outside of my college campus. After all, I was doing my thesis on the exact topic of the rituals used by the serial killer currently rampaging near my hometown. It was also convenient, considering I was already a suspect, and I wanted to explain why I would know way better than to fuck with the curses this person was messing with.

However, as I was practically sprinting down the hallway to rid myself of a voice like squeaky taffy stuck in my teeth, I'd realized my mistake.

“You’re completely full of shit!” I shouted, rubbing my temples as I continued to quickly walk away from Dr. Reid, who had been following me and asking questions for the past ten minutes.

At first, we seemed to get along well enough. He recognized that my STEM degrees meant we could talk about somewhat complex topics without having to explain simple concepts.

Then we got on the subject of witchcraft, and everything went to hell. That was three days ago, and he was still mad. To be fair, the first time our conversation got pretty heated. I may have called him some nasty words and threatened to curse him.

I don’t know. He was rude. I didn’t actually do it!

“How am I full of shit?” he barked back before following me into my room.

I immediately approached my altar, hoping to find some reprieve from the suffering he insisted on inflicting.

“You’re just so… so… transparent!” I gestured to him and then turned my attention back to the objects on the table, pulling out a red candle and propping it on the holder before quickly lighting it.

“If anything, you should be lighting yellow or purple, to salvage whatever of your intelligence hasn’t been corrupted at this point.”

I took a deep breath before turning around, clapping my hands together and sweetly replying, “I need the red for the strength to put up with your bullshit.”

Another one of his coworkers entered, thankfully distracting him for a couple of minutes while I rearranged the objects in front of me.

“Alright. I need to go check on JJ. I’ll come back to get you as soon as I can. Take a look around the surrounding area if you can," the man commanded with both presence and tone, "And Reid, please, for the love of god, leave the woman alone.”

I snickered as the person began to leave, but I called out to them before they could disappear. “Wait! When’s his birthday?”

“Don't tell her-!”

“He’s a Scorpio!” they called back.

Score.

I couldn’t help but laugh, that devilish chuckle that meant I was armed with knowledge I was ready to wield.

“Of course you’re a Scorpio!”

He looked perplexed, and for a second he clearly considered asking at all. But his desire to be petty won out, and he threw his hands to the side as he exclaimed, “What does that even mean?!”

“It means I know everything there is to know about you, Spencer,” I offered in the most condescending tone I could muster, recalling his name from a previous conversation. He did not look enthused.

“I highly doubt that.”

Pushing myself up to sit on the edge of my altar, I pulled out my box of crystals from a drawer. I didn’t say anything, but I did happily hum a soft tune while I dug around the box. I knew what I was looking for.

“Come here, kid,” I called, beckoning him closer as he sighed.

I swear I could hear him rolling his eyes as he mumbled, “What now?”

I pulled out a small wrapped gem, dutifully attaching it to a leather bracelet. He didn’t say anything, just watching my hands work while I casually glanced up at him.

“Give me your hand,” I instructed once I finally finished.

He looked incredibly apprehensive, and immediately responded, “No way in hell.”

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking annoying. We’re not in hell, we’re at my fucking altar. Give me your hand.”

More insistently this time, I held my hand out to take his. He offered it to me with caution, wincing a bit when I attached the bracelet onto his left wrist.

“… What is it.”

It was hardly a question. He wasn’t exactly the politest.

“It’s a gift. I think you could benefit from it. You’re welcome.”

He sighed once more, running his hand through his hair before inspecting his wrist.

“How would a smoky quartz help me?” he droned, shifting his wrist to grow accustomed to the feeling. He didn’t remove it though.

I stared into his eyes, narrowing mine as I gave a sly grin that shifted to another sweet smile.

“I just think it matches your eyes.”

His response was quick and harsh, “You’re full of shit.”

I leaned back, already growing angry yet again. He couldn’t just leave things alone. He had to argue about it.

Typical Scorpio.

“Why do you insist on changing my mind?” My tone was much more patient for now, although it would not last long. I was trying to be understanding, which cannot be said for him.

“Because you’re smart!”

I laughed bitterly in response, crossing my legs as I allowed him to continue.

“You have a degree in Astrophysics from Caltech! I went to Caltech!”

“Okay, so? I know that I’m smart,” I crowed, holding a hand to my chest.

He tried to hide it, but I saw the way his eyes followed. They lingered on the exposed cleavage dressed in silver and gems.

“You’re a woman of science! How can you spend 4 years of your life studying the physics and science of the stars, the literal birth of the universe, and still believe that their position on the day I was born dictates what personality I’ll have?!”

Ah. Got him. I reached forward, grabbing his face and pulling him closer to me. I could feel the heat of his skin under my hands, and I knew that this personal vendetta he had against the unknown was not helped by the things he clearly felt towards me. I would be willing to bet it had a lot to do with the misguided anger.

“That’s exactly why I know they do!” I challenged, feeling the way his muscles twitched as he clenched his jaw.

He pulled his face back, but his body moved forward. What a quirky little man.

“That makes no sense!”

I rolled my eyes, gesturing to the moon chart above my head in yet another plea for a bit of skepticism. Just a smidge.

“The moon moves the tides, why is it crazy to believe that it can impact us, too?!”

He scrunched up his face in disgust, like I had broken one of the cardinal laws of logic. But I hadn’t, and I think that was the largest source of rage. He couldn’t pretend like I was just a naive fool. We shared an alma mater.

Still, that didn’t stop him from sneering, “Don’t act like there’s some scientific basis to this bullshit.”

No matter how angry he sounded, his expression gave so much away. He was steeled, reserved, and cautious. I think he knew that if it weren’t me, the woman who had so blatantly challenged him almost immediately, he would acknowledge the science behind my beliefs. After all, he was smart, too, and there is a reason for every religious belief somewhere, whether it be history or science.

That being said, it was fun to mess with him, and I knew the perfect way to really piss him off.

“Just because you aren’t clever enough to understand it doesn’t mean it’s not science!”

Frantic, he turned around, running his hands over his face to compose himself before approaching me again, his voice loud as he enunciated clearly, “There is nothing scientific about the occult!”

He was so close, my foot rested casually against his thigh. I smiled and leaned forward. He looked down at me, his chest heaving as his breath fanned hot and heavy against my face. Honestly, I wanted to go off on him, to meet his hostility with my own fury. But with our bodies touching, I realized there was a much more productive way to deal with this disagreement.

“Bitch,” I whispered, popping my lips on the first consonant.

He licked his lips, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion and frustration as he scrutinized my features for a clue as to what I was doing.

“… Did you seriously just call me a bitch?”

With a giggle and a simper, I maintained the close distance between our faces, uncrossing my legs to hook one around his waist. He didn’t break eye contact as I said, “Yeah, I did.”

Still staring into my eyes and sharing body heat, he tilted his head closer to me, whispering just apart from my lips, “Go fuck yourself.”

His tone was deadly serious, but his body was giving me so many unmistakable clues. I gasped lightly as his hand slid up my thigh underneath my sheer black cardigan.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward,” the words rolled off my tongue as a fire lit in my eyes. I was reminded of the sexual properties of a red candle, but decided not to share that with him.

Wouldn’t that make him mad, though?

“Excuse me?” he asserted, no doubt trying to make sure he heard me correctly before we cross this line.

Without an ounce of doubt in my voice, I growled, “I said fuck me yourself. Coward.”

He didn’t let me say it again. That time, his mouth crashed onto mine with the force of a hurricane. His hands were much the same, one grabbing the back of my head to press his mouth even harder against mine. I moaned into the kiss as his hand on my thigh moved up with ease, taking the bottom of my velvet dress with it. He took advantage of my open mouth and slipped his tongue in to battle with mine.

I wasn’t having it. He was gonna have to try harder than that. I bit down lightly on his tongue for just a moment, and once I released him, he retaliated by biting down hard on my bottom lip. That alone was exciting enough for me, but his hands tugging on my underwear was downright thrilling. I would have helped prop myself up for him to remove them, but he dropped his hand from my head, using it instead to wrap around my waist and lift me off the table.

“You do this often?” I panted, enjoying the way it felt for our bodies to be pressed together.

He didn’t answer. No matter, I didn’t really care about his answer. His tongue was back in my mouth before I knew it, and we joined in a firm, sloppy dance. The stubble on his chin scratched against my already hot skin, and I felt like that man would leave remnants of his memory on my body for days.

When his mouth left mine, it didn’t go far. Soon he was attached to my pulse point, sucking gently while his hands worked to pull my dress and necklaces to the side. My hips rocked, seeking any friction where I was most desperately seeking it. But then his mouth was over my breast, as if he could devour me whole. I cried out, my hands holding onto him as he nipped at my nipples.

“Goddess, your mouth is so much better at this than talking.”

He stopped, clearly a punishment for my quip. His bottom lip dragged along my skin as he groaned, “Shut the fuck up.”

His mouth back to sucking harshly on my chest, I threw my head back, now wrapping both legs around him and pulling his crotch against mine. I took one hand from him and reached across to my nightstand, haphazardly opening and pulling out a roll of condoms.

Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled his head back to look me in the eyes as I held them up to him and snarled, “Make me.”

Both his hands were off me in a matter of seconds, but in the best possible way. He tore off one of the condoms, holding it in his mouth as he started to unbuckle his pants. I watched him with that trademark devilish smirk, enjoying the show.

“I’ve never fucked a Scorpio before. No offense, but you’ve got a lot to live up to.”

He did not like my taunt.

Good. That was kind of the plan.

I took the condom wrapped from his mouth, tearing it open carefully and grabbing his now exposed erection and rolling the latex onto him. When he came closer to me and lined himself up at my entrance, I gave him a playful grin. I let the anticipation wash over me. I could feel the head of his arousal against mine, and I was already a mess. My legs were shaking, and I heard a dark chuckle in my ear.

“I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

His first thrust was rough and deep, immediately filling me to capacity. I grunted to try not to scream. I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction yet. He would have to earn my moans. I had high expectations for him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I slurred as he pulled me to the edge of the table and somehow pushed himself even deeper into me.

He took his time pulling out, but then snapped back into me. He went to kiss me but stopped at the last second. I bit down on his lip, pulling it towards me with a smirk.

His voice was crackling and rough as he groaned, “God, you’re such a fucking bitch.”

With those words, he set off on a merciless crusade. His hand on my hip dug harshly into the soft skin. I could feel each of his fingernails leaving small crescent indents layers deep. The other hand was mixed within the chains on my neck. The silver wrapped around his hand reflected flickering candlelight as he held me in place.

I couldn’t stop smiling, which only seemed to encourage him to fuck me harder, faster, and rougher. The wooden table knocked against the wall, and I braced myself against the surface.

“Better hurry if you don’t want your coworkers to come back and find you fucking a lady on her altar.”

He tugged tighter on my necklaces, bringing me up to lay another sloppy kiss on my mouth. He only broke to take a breath, but then continued to slam into me.

“You’re hardly a lady.”

I took the moment to sneak my lips down to his neck, kissing whatever exposed skin I could find. I could be cruel and mark him up to explain to his coworkers… but did he really deserve that torment?

“You’re more like a goddamn succubus.”

Oh, yes. He did. He did deserve it.

Using that as the only excuse I needed to suck the soul out of this man through his neck, I latched onto him. His moans filled the room, accompanied by the percussive pounding of skin.

I dragged my teeth down his throat before mumbling against his skin, “Does this feel like a dream, Spencer?”

“It’s a fucking nightmare,” he immediately replied, shifting my hips and almost knocking me onto my back in the process.

“Shit!” I cried as he drove even deeper into me. I grabbed onto his shoulders with both hands, recognizing him as my only choice for anchor to this world. His hand finally released the jewels around my neck just as he shoved his thumb into my mouth. I happily accepted his offering, sucking on it with the same fervor I had his neck.

“I knew your mouth would be just as talented,” he groaned, clearly upset that he wouldn’t get to experience all of my talents before the other agents returned.

When he tried to take it from my mouth, I pulled on it harder.

“Fuck," he moaned before finally regaining control.

This escapade was coming to an end, and I wasn’t ready. I would have stayed like this forever, letting him destroy me as he promised. Spencer wasn’t done yet, either. His hand sneaked down to where our bodies met, and the finger that was in my mouth seconds before began swiping against my clit before I could form any coherent thought.

“Gods,” I whined, my voice shrill and desperate.

With a small nip on my ear Spencer barked, “There aren’t any others here. Just me. Guess you’ll have to pray to me now.”

The mixture of blasphemy and pride was apparently all I needed for the ever-growing tension in my body to break. I’m not certain which shook harder, my legs or the table.

“S-Spencer,” I panted.

He never stopped his animalistic pace, even as my body clenched around him, trying to keep him anchored within me.

“Good girl,” he praised.

It was one of the longest orgasms I’d ever experienced. Time felt like it had dragged into an infinite loop, where Spencer and I were one and the same. My nails trying to grip onto whatever they could, but slipping on his dress shirt. I didn’t know how long it was before he began to stagger, his thrusts harder but further apart. Every noise I tried to make was more like a choked, mangled scream. He didn’t seem to mind.

I expected his eyes to be closed when he came, but they weren’t. In fact, he grabbed my chin, roughly positioning my face in front of his. His gaze bore into me like he could actually see into my soul. I let him. I accepted his invitation and his offer.

I felt the pain, fear, and sadness in him. I tried my hardest to take it from him as he made one final thrust. I could barely keep my eyes open through it, feeling the way he twitched inside of me as he came.

Exhausted and exhilarated, we stayed there for a moment longer. His chest heaved with the breaths we forgot to take, and he slumped over just enough that our foreheads pressed against one another. The eye contact was challenging, draining, and beautiful. I could feel the energy between us, sharing things we wouldn’t dare speak into existence. Before he could pull out of me and leave, he had to close his eyes. My legs shook as they fell back down to hang off the table.

He couldn’t look me in the eyes anymore.

“You lived up to it, by the way.”

He still didn’t look at me as he tossed the used rubber into the trash, but his body turned towards me. I think I saw him smile, but he didn’t reply.

“Smoky quartz is one of the birthstones for Scorpios. It can transform pessimism and negative energy into joy. It’s used as a talisman against night terrors.”

Spencer turned to fully looked at me then, confused and incredulous. He had readjusted his clothes to hide all evidence of what just happened. Slowly, he approached me. Once he was in front of me, I grabbed the charm on his wrist, looking into his eyes as I concluded.

“It’s also used to treat headaches and other disorders of the mind.”

Spencer’s breath hitched, my words having their desired effect. He was trying to figure out how I knew, but the most obvious answer was sitting in front of him.

Well, under me.

“I think…” he whispered, not even hearing the front door open as the other members returned, “I think you might actually be a witch.”

I didn’t take my eyes off him, despite someone opening the door to a room that smelled like sweat and sex. I grabbed his hair, pulling him down into a tender kiss. Releasing him and hopping off the altar, I waved a hand in the air.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, darling.”

(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #smut #request #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #imaginingafterdark

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professormembranexreader · 3 years

Text

Dead! Membrane x Necromancer! NB! Reader (Fluff)

(Y/N)'s POV

God, this class was a chore. Well, all of them were. But the journalism class at the college I went to, specifically. I was only taking this class because a friend wanted me to.

We had to interview someone we looked up to. And write a report based on the information we learned. It was supposed to be a way to show what we already know.

I asked if we could do someone who was dead, and she allowed it. On the condition we show proof we were with them. How funny. If it weren't a challenge.

That's right. I was determined to do my report on someone dead. Who? Why, the most influential man of all time—Professor Membrane.

But there was an obvious problem. How do you actually interview a dead person and get proof you were with them?

To me the answer was obvious. Necromancy.

I went to the local occult store. I'd never believed in this shit, but it was my best bet. Plus, if all else fails: photoshop.

The girl at the counter was hella cute. Who knew all the cuties worked at the occult stores? The girl and I talked, and I found out her name was Penelope. We then flirted for a bit, and I somehow secured a date.

But first I needed to raise the dead. Priorities, people.

I got a dagger, candles, and a book.

I looked in the book for the right ritual, and found out I needed the fresh blood of an animal on the knife. I'm an animal, right? Technically I am. While I didn't like the idea of cutting myself, it was going to be worth it.

Soon, I went over to the burial site. It was the only one on the hill. The trek up left me tired. But it was time to do this.

I was prepared. But not ready.

I slit the back of my arm with the ritual knife and pressed it to the raised ground. Once a good amount of blood was soaked into the dirt, I tried to bandage the cut up. I didn't do a good job, but it was enough to stop the bleeding.

Funny enough, if you just say what you want to happen in Latin, hold any occult book and a bloody dagger, and get some gold colored candles, it will happen.

Because sure enough when I began chanting, it began to storm. And that was NOT in today's forecast. I continued with my unholy chant.

"Unum, quod fuerit abiit

resurget post longa

quod tempus habet, diminutae

revertetur, et morari"

The rain one by one put out the candles. Spooky. But expected.

The ground shifted. Almost like it was being disturbed from underneath. Bingo. I peered over the candles and looked closer at the burial site.

Suddenly a laser shot up from the ground. I stumbled backwards. A gloved hand rose from the earth. My eyes widened and I smiled.

I did it. I raised the dead. I'm. Amazing.

As I cheered and hollered, the hand clawed at the ground, trying to pull the body up. Another hand sprouted from the opening in the dirt. It pushed apart the ground until there was a wide hole.

The sound of an engine sputtering to life was heard, and as I looked up, I saw him. He was floating above the grave. I forgot he was buried with his rocket shoes.

"Dónde soy?" He was talking. Oh my god. He was actually talking. "¿Quien es usted?"

"Holy shit, you're actually conscious," I blurted out.

"¡Ey! ¡Lenguaje! ¿Y por qué no estaría?"

I stared at him. "Do you not...speak English?" I put my hand on my chin. "Coulda sworn you did..."

"Oh, inglés." He cleared his throat. "Is this better?"

"Much. Thank you, Professor." I took out my notepad. "Can I interview you?"

He raised an eyebrow and put a gloved hand to his chin. "I don't see why not... what do you want to know, amigx?"

"Well, let's start with some standard stuff," I said, pulling out the tripod and video camera. "You don't mind if I record this, right?"

"By all means, go ahead."

I hit the record button and introduced myself and my interviewee.

I pulled out the notepad that I filled with questions and a pencil to write down his answers.

"First thing's first, do remember how you died?"

"Well..." he said, putting a gloved hand on his chin, "the last thing I remember was trying to give a speech when I felt this TERRIBLE pain in my jaw! I don't know what happened to me, but it's... more difficult to talk now..."

I scribbled down shorthand of his words until my eyes widened—he didn't know. "Do you...wish to know, sir?"

"No, thank you. If I knew I'd be thinking about it for much longer than I'd be comfortable with."

"Understandable, now onto the actual interview." We talked for a while, going back and forth. I flipped through the pages until my questions came to an end.

I put away the interview materials and went to turn off the camera. Once I did, I turned to speak to him. "Look. I, uh... need some advice."

"Is this for the interview?"

"Nonononono—the camera is off, the pencil is down, notepad in my pocket—it's not for the interview."

"Pues, ¿qué quieres?" Membrane asked.

"Dude, I don't speak Spanish."

"Ah, my apologies. I wasn't thinking. I asked what you wanted."

Oh.

"Well, uh, I need advice." He looked to me expectantly. He made circles with his hand indicating to continue. "I'm uh... god, this is kinda awkward. I just raised you from the dead and I'm about to ask you this."

"What is it, amigx?"

"How do you go on a date with a pretty girl?" I blurted out.

"¿Qué?"

"Okay, I know enough Spanish to know what that means. So, I was getting the stuff to, you know, bring you back from the dead. And I may have been flirting with the cashier and I got a date with her that I am terrified of because I've never been on a-"

"Cálmate. It's just a date."

"BUT SHE'S REALLY PRETTY!" I exclaimed.

"I don't doubt that, but you need to calm down. Panicking will solve nothing, amigx." He placed his hands on my shoulders. "Breathe."

I followed his advice and did the best I could to steady my breathing. Once it was more level, he let go of me.

"Now, while I don't have any personal experience with this-"

"You what?" I said. Did I hear him right?

"I said that I didn't have any firsthand experience, now if I may-"

"Waitwaitwaitwait, you mean to tell me...that you've never been on a date before?"

"Well, it wasn't necessarily a priority for me..." Membrane said quietly, "but I think I know how to help."

I cocked my head. "What did you have in mind?"

———————————————————

An hour later, I showed up in tux. Because who doesn't look good in a tux? Was I overdressed? Yes. Did I care? No.

We were having a picnic in a mausoleum nearby Membrane's grave. Close enough so the doohickey that he gave me—whatever it was—was within range of him so it could work.

He'd asked me to bring him a necklace, a cheap mic, and two Bluetooth headsets. What he did, I have no clue, but he gave me a necklace with a mic "charm" and a earpiece that wrapped around my ear.

It allowed me to transmit audio to him from my location to him, and, in addition, it allowed him to relay audio to me.

"So Penelope-"

"Please, call me Pen." She smiled. Cute.

"So, uh, Pen...I may have been using the items I bought," I stammered.

Pen laughed. "What'd you do? Raise the dead? Hahahaha..." She kept laughing until she realized my red face. "Wait..." she paused, "Did you really do that?"

"M-maybe?" I said, voice getting higher.

"YO. THAT IS SO COOL!" She was beaming. Membrane was not happy with me confessing this.

But I didn't care.

I smiled. "Would you...want to see him?" I asked Pen. I could hear his panicked voice in my ear, but I ignored him.

"oh my god, really? You'd let me do that?"

"Well... if he's okay with it..." I got up off of the ground. "Let me go ask."

I started sprinting over to his grave. By the time I got there I was completely out of breath.

He pulled down his collar. "What are you thinking?!" he hissed.

"I'M SORRY! But it just popped out and I kinda have to show her you now." I scratched the back of my head, "Can I?"

He let out a long sigh before nodding and pulling his collar back up. "Fine. But you better at least stay friends, or else..."

I bounced up and down, clapping my hands. "Thank you so much, Membrane!"

I ran back down the hill and went to Pen and bent down to catch my breath.

"He...hah... said you—god damn, I'm out of breath—could see him."

"You...okay?" Pen asked me.

I looked up and smiled. "NOPE!" I jumped back onto my feet. "Let's do this!"

I took her hand and practically dragged her towards his grave. We got closer to the hill, when she paused. I stumbled, but caught myself.

"Why'd you stop, Pen?"

"Did you...?" she trailed off.

"Did I what?" I cocked my head to the side.

She shook me by my shoulders. "DID YOU RAISE PROFESSOR MEMBRANE FROM THE DEAD?!"

"Well, I had to interview SOMEONE-" She bust out laughing and started jogging forward again. I followed after her with a smile.

When we got to the top of the hill, he was "calmly" waiting for us. But I could just barely make out the sweat rolling down his face.

He extended a gloved hand to Pen who just stared at him in awe. "Oh my god. You're asking me to shake your hand—(Y/N), he's asking me to shake his hand."

"Shake his hand, Pen. He doesn't bite," I paused, "as far as I know." He blushed and started sputtering while Pen just laughed.

She shook his hand and he seemed to recompose himself. "Hello there, Pen! My name is Professor Membrane. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Pen smiled. "It's been a dream of mine to meet you in person. When I learned you had died, I never thought I'd get the chance to."

"Well today's your lucky day." He was smiling. "(Y/N)?" he asked me.

"Yes, sir?"

"How long does this ritual allow me to be conscious? I have theories I need to pass on."

"Only a few more hours... at dawn you'll go back to...you know... being dead."

A lightbulb went off in my head. If I was going to be a scientist, I could elaborate on his theories and test them. I could be revolutionary. But I needed his permission.

"Sir, if I may, would you allow me to test your theories? And if so, I don't know if I'd be able to properly credit you, so in the case I can't, would you mind?"

He thought for a minute, before shrugging his shoulders. "If it's in the name of science, I don't see why not. But are you up for the challenge, amigx?"

I nod my head, and Pen smiles at me.

"What are we waiting for? Let's get going!"

And for the next hour and forty-five minutes, I copied his words down by hand while Pen got the information out of him.

It was then that the sky started to turn orange.

"Quick! Back into the ground! We can't push you in." I said.

Pen chuckled at the last part. "Yeah! Your arms are too heavy!"

"¡Oye! Yo sé, yo sé. Soy yendo." He hopped into the hole in the earth. "It was a pleasure meeting you two kids. I believe you'll both go on to do great things."

He crossed his arms over his chest and fell backwards into the ground. "See you on the other side, amigx."

"See you on the other side, Professor." I gave him a small "see ya" hand motion. Pen and I spent the rest of the day chatting and getting to know each other while I worked on my project.

I turned in my report and got a 100. Hell yeah.

I got another date with Pen. Hell fucking yeah.

I've started to compile his works and research. Slowly, it started to make more and more sense. I completed the class and went on to pursue my career in science.

Maybe I'll go on to do great things after all.

#writing #membrane #professor membrane #professor membrane x reader

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Trouble: Chapter 4

*Gif not mine*

Pairings: HotchxReader

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Rating: M

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: SMUT, Oral sex(male receiving), fingering, choking, slight degradation, dom/sub overtones. mention of past rape/abuse. witch shit.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: After Haley’s passing, Aaron Hotchner has lost the light in his eyes. He seems to find it it the most unlikely of places, an occult themed coffee shop ran by a witch.

A.N: If you don’t like smut, i’d skip some paragraphs but not the whole thing because there’s some major plot points. Tarot, wicca, and crystal information is very secondhand if you see any inaccuracies, no you don’t.

Chapter 4: I been facing trouble almost all my life

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Hotch asks, immediately standing when he heard the crash of the phone.

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t tell hotch about that period of your life, you guys just got to the place you wanted to be at for quite some time. Charlie couldn’t do this to you again, you couldn’t let him fuck more of your life up.

“Oh nothing, butter fingers sorry.” You say, plastering a smile on. Hotch doesn’t believe you, you can tell he doesn’t but he doesn’t ask questions either.

After talking for another hour, Hotch kisses you goodbye, knowing somethings off but not saying anything. You head upstairs and relieve Silena of her duties, promising her details of the night tomorrow. Once you see her out, you instantly crawl into your daughter’s bed.

“Mama?” She says groggily.

“Yea honey, it’s me.”

She nods sleepily before laying her head on your chest. You run your hands through her hair watching her sleep for a spell.

Charlie couldn’t take this from you.

You won’t let him.

—————————————

It’s been a couple months since the phone call and things were honestly going good, scary good. Business was booming, a famous blogger had stumbled upon your shop by accident and posted about it since then you and Silena seemed to have your hands so full with hipsters and entitled elitists that you needed a full time sitter. You didn’t like it but money was money.

You and Hotch were also doing good. He finally took you on that date, which was dinner at a small Italian restaurant. He looked at you in shock as you rattled off the menu items in perfect pronunciation. You just shrugged explaining that you worked at an Italian bakery through college, which is where you learned the language and most of the recipes you used in the shop today.

Both of you didn’t account for weather though and as soon as you left the restaurant it began to pour. Hotch gave you his suit jacket to cover your hair as the two of you bolted across the parking lot to his car. The original plan was to just wait out the rain until it was safe enough for you to both drive home but what ended up happening was the two of you making out like teenagers in the backseat of his car.

It’s been about two months since then and while he’s gone a lot on cases he seems to still make time for you and, by proxy, Artie. The weekends the both of you had free were spent at the park with your kids who got along swimmingly. Artemis had the same personality as you in that sense, nice and outgoing. It was no surprise that she’d befriended Jack in a matter of days despite his shy demeanor.

You were still worried about Charlie. You tried not to be but you couldn’t help it. You had already moved multiple times because of him you couldn’t do it again. You had the shop, Artie was finally at that age where she was old enough to remember so she needed stability and now you had Aaron, who had already lost so much you couldn’t be another thing he lost. So you issued a new deal that gave any law enforcement officer 50% off a coffee order. Was it the best for your bank in the long run? No, but it gave you and Artie the protection you needed so he wouldn’t think of trying anything. That didn’t stop the threatening notes and phone calls though despite everything.

You had finally decided though you weren’t going to run. Not this time.

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

You’d never been inside the FBI building before and until today you never had an excuse to. But since Artie was with her sitter all day and you had the time you decided you’d take a long lunch and come see Hotch.

You got off the elevator 2 carriers of coffee in tow, figuring it’d be rude to bring Hotch something and not the others. As you walk into the bullpen the first person to take notice of you is Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N. What’re you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise Hotch with lunch and you guys with coffee.” You smile, handing the coffee carriers to him as he makes grabby hands at them. You take out the two cups you knew were yours and Aaron’s. “Where is his office?”

Spencer points to the catwalk above you. “Upstairs, his door is the open one.” You mouth your thanks as you head up the stairs and into the opened door of the office, rapping quietly on the door to announce your presence. Hotch looks up annoyed but when he sees it's you his face softens a bit. He gestures to the phone he’s talking into and a chair for you to sit and wait. You close the door behind you and walk in silently placing the cup you brought in with you in front of him silently. He gives you a gracious look while you sit quietly in the chair across from him as he finishes his conversation.

You’d never seen Hotch at work so you’ve seen him like this. You always knew he had an authoritative energy, but you’ve never seen him like this in his element, in charge. Your eyes slowly pan up the charcoal suit he was wearing, broad chest and shoulders ridged with stress. You watched his stern expression get more annoyed by whoever he was on the phone with as he blew heavy exasperated breaths through his nose.

He was angry. You could tell.

But for some reason it was incredibly hot to you.

“I’m not compromising when it comes to my team, now Goodbye.” He said, angrily slamming the phone into the receiver. He pinches the bridge of his nose, obviously frustrated. You decide to lean forward placing your fingers in the aforementioned hand. He instantly looks up and fully laces your hands together, pulling your hand up so he could kiss the swell of your knuckles.

“Hey, dove.” Your heart swells a bit at the pet name, still not fully used to the development of your relationship despite being together for months. “What’re you doing here?”

“The shop was pretty slow and Malia is watching Bean. I figured I’d take a long lunch to come see you. Is it a bad time?” You ask.

“I’ll always make time for you.” He says. Hotch didn’t have many regrets but one of the major gut-wrenching ones was the fact that he drove Hayley away and made her feel unloved because he couldn’t tear himself away from work. And while you were very understanding, in fact much more understanding and patient than she was, he wasn’t going to do that ever again.

“You’re angry though.” You say, stating the obvious.

“I was.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It’s just… my boss doesn’t like me very much and because of that she puts the team under unneeded scrutiny.” He sighs, waving his hand. “I don’t want to bore you with that though, how was your day?”

You shrug. “You know it’s just coffee, so uneventful. And you don’t bore me, if something’s stressing you out, I wanna hear about it.” You look him in the eye, thumb moving over his knuckles. “I wanna help.”

Hotch sighs again. “It’s just, when Hayley was killed my judgement was clouded for a while. I was angry and I was taking unnecessary risks that were ultimately damaging to the team. I realize that now but not soon enough because Strauss is still on me about everything. And I’m trying to work on my anger about stuff like that but obviously when my abilities as a leader are questioned every 5 minutes, it’s hard.”

You ran your thumb up and down his knuckles the whole time he ranted. You get up to circle his desk before standing in front of his chair, leaning back against the edge of the desk “Can I give you something?” You ask.

“If it’s another rock, I’m going to have to get a chest to put them all at some point, having them on my desk is taking up space now.” He laughs.

“I think we’ve established it’s always going to be a rock, Aaron.” You reach into your pocket. “I actually carry this on me all the time and maybe it’ll help you too. This is raw aquamarine. Because it’s water based it’s used for it’s cooling energy. Sometimes to calm anger, sometimes to provide wisdom in conflict.” Aaron holds out his left palm, knowing the drill by now. “Please be used as a conduit of peace.” You say, before handing the stone to him.

“Thank you, dove.” He says, placing the crystal next to the others. “You said you carry this one all the time?”

“Yea.”

“Why?”

You sigh. “I used to have a really bad anger problem. Raw aquamarine helped me with it?”

“You...had an anger problem?” He said, extremely confused. “You? I’ve never even seen you angry.”

“That’s because you haven’t done anything but make me happy, Mr. Hotchner.” You smile, leaning down to kiss him which he instantly reciprocates. “Also, you haven’t seen me drive, I have real bad road rage.” You laugh.

“Well, thank you for the stone. I don’t think it’ll help my situation but it’s worth a shot.” He says.

“Well, there is another way to absolve some of your anger.”

“And what’s that?” He asks.

“You could take it out on someone.” You say, looking him directly in the eye. You notice his pupils darken extremely. “I don’t mind.”

“When do you have to go back to the shop?” He asks, standing from the chair so he’s towered over you now, the desk still blocking you from being able to back away from him.

“I have another 45-50 minutes before Silena calls.” You look back at him innocently.

“Lock the door and close the blinds, please.” He says, you don’t have to be told twice before you are squirming from under him to do just that. Once you do that you look back at Hotch who is gesturing for you to come closer which you do.

“Are you sure you want this, dove? I know we haven’t done anything like this yet.” He asks you, you nod fast. “And you’ll tell me the second I do something that makes you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, Aaron.” You say, practically whining. “Please, I need you.”

Aaron instantly sweeps you into a deep passionate kiss that’s already leaving you groaning as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip. He presses impossibly close to you and you feel him erect against your side. His hands travel up your sides and under your shirt slipping a hand into your bra, unhooking it before toying with your nipple. You moan loudly as his lips trail down your jaw sucking bite marks into your neck.

“Fuck, look at you.” He says, lowly in your ears. “Already so desperate and loud for me when I’ve barely touched you.” You can’t help moan at that too, touching him everywhere your hands can reach. “I’m going to have to shut you up somehow, huh?” He says, you whimper slightly and he grins, devilishly at you. “Get on your knees for me, baby.” He says, and you nod fast before settling on your knees for the man before you.

For a minute he just looks at you, studying you as if this was going to be the only time he’d see you like this. You watch him with hooded eyes as his hands go to his belt buckle and fly, revealing himself to you. You’re agape for a second trying not to drool he was certainly bigger than you’ve ever had. He tilts your chin up slightly so you can look him in the eye easily.

“You want to make me feel good, right?” He says, you nod. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Sir.” You say, breathy.

“Then do so.” He says, you nod before grabbing his member in your hand. Flattening your tongue to lick up the underside. He groans, grabbing the side of your head, pushing himself further into the warm heat of your mouth. He goes slow at first, testing the waters, trying to make sure you won’t freak out on him but soon enough he hears and more importantly he feels you moan. He grips your hair tighter before more forcefully shoving himself into your mouth. You have no choice but to flatten your tongue and take the assault, squeezing your legs together for some form of friction.

“Look at you, so desperate to please. You wanna make me cum, dove?” He says, voice straining as he nears his end. You answer his question by sucking him harder, inducing a groan from the man. You start to feel him twitch on your tongue. “Fuck yes, that’s my good girl. Take it all.” He says, releasing himself into the back of your throat. You swallow quickly before leaning back on your knees looking up at him putting himself back in his slacks.

“Come here.” He says, you stand up instantly and he cups your jaw, kissing you harshly before moving you until you’re seated on the edge of his desk. He reattaches his lips to your neck automatically going for that spot behind your ear you can’t help the groan that leaves you as you feel one of his hands undoing your pants. He doesn’t waste any time undressing you, just brings his hand into pants, cupping your heat.

“You’re so wet for me already, dove?” He runs a finger up your slit before pressing inside you. A gasp that dissolves into a loud moan rips through your body. He grabs your jaw roughly with his other hand so you’ll meet his lips. His tongue running over the roof of your mouth as he slipped a second finger inside of you, curling slightly to hit that spot inside of you every thrust. You try to keep quiet but the moans and whimpers keep slipping out involuntarily. Aaron’s hand moves from your jaw to your neck, tightening slightly.

“If you can’t keep quiet, I’m going to stop.” He says, looking deep into your eye as his thumb circles your clit. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. “You want everyone to hear you? Hear how desperate and needy you are for me?” You shake your head as much as you can with his tight grip around your throat. Trying to keep quiet as you felt yourself coming close to the edge. “No, I think you do. If we had the time, I’d bend you over this desk and fuck you like the needy slut you are. You’d want that wouldn’t you, dove? You want me to fill you up?”

You nod, hips moving fast to meet his hand. “Yes, Sir.” You say, brokenly as you approached the edge. Hotch groans in response, hand tightening around your throat again.

“Fuck, next time, Angel.” He says, thrusting his fingers faster now. “Now I need you to cum, Princess. Go ahead, let go.” You bite down on your own hand to keep quiet as your orgasm washes through you then, not knowing you were waiting on permission. Hotch rides you through it, only withdrawing when he hears you whine. He instantly pulls his fingers up to the seam of your lips, you open your mouth, inviting him in. He groans as he watches you suck them into your mouth, tongue rolling over them. He kisses you the second he pulls his fingers out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers. “I hope I wasn’t too rough on you.”

You shake your head, picking up your bra and shirt to put them back on. “No, I’m fine. You were great.” You say, leaning up to peck his cheek.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.” He says, with a dark look.

You pout. “I’ve gotta get back to the shop, Gus.”

“Can I come see you tonight then?” He asks, you nod, smiling. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You stop in your tracks for a second. “We didn’t think this through, did we?” You say. “Everyone on your team is going to know exactly what we did.”

“Most likely, but I don’t care.” He smiles, pecking you on the cheek before opening the door holding your hand as you guys walk toward the elevator.

“I do.” You mumble, he only laughs at you.

Later, you walk into the shop, hair that was down before now in a tight bun. You didn’t even bother trying to cover up the marks on your neck. It wasn’t like you had anything to cover it with and it was way too hot for scarves. Silena looks up from the book she was reading. Smirking when she sees your disheveled appearance.

“Have a good lunch?” She says.

You flush, walking back to put your apron on. “Yea, i-it was fine.” You paused before looking at her. “Your reading was right.” You say, inducing loud cackles from your best friend.

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

Since you left, Hotch was having trouble thinking of anything that wasn’t you. After he saw how beautiful you looked losing control under him he knew he needed to see more. See just how much he could break you. He was just about getting ready to leave work when he got the call.

“SSA Hotchner speaking. Who is this?” He says, he didn’t recognize the number on the screen.

“Hey Hotch, This is Silena. I work with Y/N at HG.”

“I know who you are Silena, what’s wrong?” He says, knowing something had to be up for her to be calling him.

“Umm nothing yet, it’s just… Y/N’s ex is here and is camping in front of the store, I assume to catch her while she’s leaving… he’s not a good dude.” Hotch could make out some crashing behind her and someone he could only assume was Y/n yelling in very angry italian. “I just thought maybe if you came and flashed the badge a bit he’ll leave her alone.” he hears more yelling and crashing. “And you could save your girlfriend from a murder charge. Win-win.”

“I’m on my way.” He says.

“Great, come to the back door please.” Silena says hanging up.

Hotch knocks tentatively when he arrives at the back door, Silena lets him in with a small smile.

“Thanks for coming, Hotch.” We’re hiding out in the kitchen right now but he’s still banging on the front door. Luckily, we already locked for close so he couldn’t just walk in.” She says leading him to the kitchen where he sees you aggressively beating some dough. He looks back at Silena confused. “She’s pissed, sorry.”

“This is fucking ridicous!” You yell. “Lo fa sempre, cazzo. quel ratto bastardo! Non posso vivere un giorno in una fottuta pace. Lo ucciderò, cazzo.” (He always fucking does this. that rat bastard. I can't live one day in fucking peace. I'm going to fucking kill him.)

You turn and see Hotch who is looking back at you concerned. You level your angry gaze to Sil now. “I told you not to fucking call him.” You seeth. “You said you were calling Mike.”

“Yea, but I figured it’d be better if I called Hotch since he’s an actual Agent and Charlie will probably listen if he said fuck off.”

“I didn’t want you to call anyone. I wanted to handle it myself.”

“Yea by killing him. Which I’m obviously not going to let you do. You have a shop and daughter to worry about.”

“Un motivo in più per ucciderlo, cazzo! Non posso lasciarlo vicino a mia figlia!” (All the more reason to fucking kill him! I can't let him near my daughter)

“Hotch, can you please handle it so we can just go home?” Silena pleads with him. He gives you another worried look before walking out the front of the store. Where he sees a disgruntled poor shaped man banging on the front door.

Hotch opens the door slightly so the man could hear him “The shop is closed.” He says.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man spits. Instead of answering, Hotch just pulls out his badge.

“Since the shop is closed, you’re trespassing. I suggest you leave.”

“Look, I don’t know who the fuck you are. But I know that whore is in there and I’m not leaving until she comes out.”

As if on cue, you come out despite Silena trying very hard to hold you back, brandishing a rolling pin as a makeshift weapon.

“Get the fuck off my property, Charlie.”

“Where’s my kid, Y/N?”

“You don’t have a fucking kid! I have a kid!”

“I’m her father, I have a right to see her.”

“Vedrai prima le porte dell'inferno prima che ti permetta di avvicinarti a mia figlia!” (You will sooner see the gates of hell before I let you near my daughter!)

“You need to leave.” Aaron says, practically bodying the man out of the shop.

“I hope this shitshow shop is doing well because I’ll just take you to court, Y/N.” He yells while leaving.

“Oh yea, take me to court, stronzo! Let’s see what they decide. The mother with a successful business who raised her, or an abusive drunk!” You yell after him. “Fuck!” You yell, throwing the rolling pin deep into the shop thankfully not hitting anyone but putting a small dent into one of your paintings.

“Can you believe that fucking asshole wants to take me to court! Me?! I’m the one who should’ve taken him years ago if i wasn’t so fucking afraid.” You kick a chair over. “You shouldn’t have stopped me, I should’ve killed him.”

“Y/N, calm down. You don’t know what you're saying.” Aaron says. “It especially isn’t something you should be saying in front of an agent.”

“Considering you actually fucking killed the man who killed your ex-wife, you have no right to judge me for saying I want to kill my fucking rapist.” You snapped at him. You see the hurt expression come across his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, Aaron. That was a really shitty thing for me to say.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, I did do that and I don’t regret doing it.” Aaron grabs your hands, smoothing his finger over your knuckles, an action you had just done for him earlier that day. Which felt like lightyears away now. “I want to help you, Y/N, but I think… I think you need to tell me about it first.”

You sighed heavily. He was right, you knew everything about Aaron’s past.

It was only fair he knew everything about yours.

Taglist: @megatrexus @roses-and-grasses @tittymuncher69 @liaabsurd @ladyravenclaw @genevievedarcygrangerreading @softbibxtch @xxdisappearwithoutatracexx @crimeshowtrash @augustgraceful @theweirdobella @infinity1321 @stella95827 @neaswift

Message to be added to the taglist!

#hotch x reader smut #bau x reader #hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #criminal minds

243 notes · View notes

pi-cat000 · 4 years

Text

MSA time travel idea (part 39)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5

Part 40: here

...

LEWIS POV

Lewis comes to welcome the dark interludes which provide a brief reprieve from the parade of fake-Arthur-memories. The cold, empty silence is preferable to the increasingly dour scenes depicting the day-to-day struggles of fake-Arthur and fake-Vivi as they fail at dealing with fake-Lewis’s death. Not that either of them know about his death. Arthur doesn’t remember the cliff or the body snatcher, thinking fake-Lewis is alive and lost somewhere. Vivi doesn’t remember him at all. He’s been erased completely from her mind, leaving her confused and Arthur distraught. Lewis has no idea how long he’s spent watching them struggle. The scenes come and go at varying lengths and changing levels of detail. He must have lived through several weeks’ worth of fake-memories now. Months of Arthur’s life flit by, broken up into chunks.

...

A conversation with Vivi, trying and failing to convince her that the other-Lewis had existed at all.

“Lewis…you know, Lewis. Please remember.”

“I’m sorry, I blanked out for a second there…what were you saying?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing…”

“Oh shit…I was...how long was I out for this time?”

“An hour...You were gone for an hour.”

“I’m sorry Arthur.”

“Don’t worry about it. Was my fault…Mentioned something I shouldn’t have.”

Fights with Lance when the older man attempts to intervene and stop Arthur’s increasingly destructive behaviour.

“This behaviour isn’t healthy.”

“What am I supposed to do!”

“Maybe, stop and actually think about this…”

“Lewis is out there somewhere, and you want me to just give up!”

Hours spend online and in police stations trying to convince people to look for the other-Lewis.

“Kid. You’re friend is listed as missing. We have alerts out in the neighbouring states and so far there’s been no word. Search parties, caving experts, were combing those old mine shafts for six days after you came in. There was nothing there.”

“Something happened there...something bad...if you would just...”

“The cave is just a regular cave. Those old mines are old mines. Nothing weird or spooky about them, just very easy to get lost in. There’s nothing more to be done so go home, eat a hot meal, get some sleep. If your friend shows up you’ll be one of the first to know. ”

...

It’s like watching a highlight real, only nothing about these memories is a highlight. He’s almost sure the fake-memories are selected and purposefully skewed towards negative experiences. Surely, even if this were real-it’s not real, it can’t be real-Arthur’s life wouldn’t be this bad without Lewis there.

When the darkness falls away, transitioning into another memory, Lewis wants to yell out in frustration.

…

Lewis’s eyes open of their own accord and he’s looking out at the world, experiencing life from his friend’s perspective.

…

This memory starts with Arthur staring as a door handle, hesitating to pull it open. Lewis recognises it of course, he’s seen this door serval times, scattered in amongst the most recent lot of fake-memories. It’s the door to Vivi and Arthur’s apartment in Milton, faded green in colour and rusted around the hinges.

Arthur lets out a long breath which tranistions into a yawn, fiddling around with a set of keys with his one, good arm. Lewis tries not to worry when his friend drops the keys to the ground, hand slightly shakier than usual. Arthur probably hasn’t been sleeping properly. Not-sleeping is a running theme for this fake-memory-Arthur.

When the door does finally swing open, it is to reveal an irate Vivi. She is blocking the flat’s narrow entryway, her hands on her hips, expression creased into a scowl.

“In what universe does ‘I’ll be back early’ mean 11:30 pm?”

Arthur winces. Lewis can’t see his expression but his friend is probably grimacing. Most memories that feature both Vivi and Arthur involved an argument of some sort. Another form of torture for him no doubt. Seeing them struggle to come to terms with his disappearance was always a painful viewing experience. Lewis braces himself for some sort of emotionally charged argument, wishing he had the power to intervein. These fake-memories are some of the hardest to sit through.

“A lot of the guys in the lab work late hours.”

Vivi looks unimpressed, “And I suppose they’re all recovering from a recent amputation as well are they?”

“It’s been four months …It’s healed plenty.”

Lewis feels the echo sensation of pain as Arthur drops his bag to the floor, freeing up his remaining arm. Arthur lying to Vivi about his wellbeing is another common theme in these fake-memories. Vivi knows it too, Lewis can already see the tension in her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Arthur tries to reassure, skirting around Vivi, avoiding eye contact. “The prototype for the new arm is almost done, we’re just waiting on the guys in programming to double-check some of the coding….”

“This new arm isn’t going to be worth much if you’re too exhausted to do anything with it.” Vivi interrupts angrily, following Arthur as he slinks past the small kitchen towards bedrooms at the back of the apartment.

Lewis feels her grabs the back of Arthur’s shirts, pulling the other up short.

“I said I’m fin….wait.”

Vivi drags Arthur to the narrow kitchen bench just big enough to fit two bar-chairs, ignoring his objections.

“Sit.” She orders, stopping over to the frig, pulling out a bowl and thrusting it into the microwave. The hum of the microwave makes the following quiet twice as uncomfortable. Even Lewis feels it.

Arthur clears his throat to speak and is cut off when the microwave lets off a loud ping.

Vivi all but slams the streaming bowl down in front of Arthur.

“You really don’t have to…” Arthur tries.

“Oh yeah? What did you eat for dinner?”

Silence.

“Lunch?”

“…”

“Because I only know you ate breakfast because I was there for it.”

More silence hangs between them.

“Eat.” She instructs and glares until Arthur picks up the spoon. Lewis can feel Arthur shift in awkward discomfort as he starts eating. After living through so many of these fake-memories, Lewis is becoming an Arthur body language expert.

“How was work?” Arthur breaks the silence, glancing at Vivi. She is sitting with her arms crossed, still upset, still annoyed. Lewis can read the worry fuelling her frustration clear as day.

Her expression clears as she deliberately puts the issue of Arthur arriving late to one side, “Work was good. Duet is a real character but they’re nice and super knowledgeable when it comes to the occult and other supernatural stuff. They’re helping me research memory-related curses and whatnot. The first person, apart from you, who doesn’t think I’m crazy. So that’s a plus.”

“When my arm is fixed, we can hit the road and follow up on any leads you hear,” Arthur murmurs between mouthfuls and Lewis wishes he could face-palm because that is the exact wrong thing to say. Not for the first time, Lewis longs to be physically present so he can smooth over the sudden tension which spikes in the room. “Or we could go before that…I mean…I don’t really need two arms.”

“It’s not urgent or anything,” Vivi responds with the forced cheer of someone holding back on speaking their mind. “I bleary notice that the memories are gone most days. Your arm is more important.”

“Don’t say that,” Arthur stops eating to frown.

“Don’t say what? That I’m fine postponing the search for my memories for however long it takes you to get better?”

“That’s not…what I mean is that your memories are important.”

Vivi’s expression hardens, becoming terse, “Not more important than your health.”

Arthur tenses.

“My missing memories can wait,” She insists. “I’ve been doing fine without them. Especially now we live here and not in Tempo. I haven’t had a blackout since we moved.”

“It’s not just that…” Arthur retorts, frustrated.

“Then what.” Vivi snaps, almost yelling now, “Do you hear yourself speak? ‘I don’t really need two arms,’…are you kidding me! What could possibly be more important than your health.”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

Vivi lets out a long, frustrated breath, standing. “You promised, when we moved closer to the hospital labs, you promised that you’d make an effort to actually look after yourself.”

Arthur doesn’t respond as Vivi continues. “When your arm is finished. When you look like an actual person and not a zombie. When we don’t have to have this conversation every day. Then we’ll go searching.”

The bar stool squeaks on the floor as Vivi pushes it back, “I’m going to bed. I’ve got work early tomorrow. You should sleep as well…when you’ve finished.”

A long silence stretches between his two friends, all the heat gone from the argument. Lewis can’t see Vivi anymore, Arthur’s vision is now fixed on his spoon which is resting on the lip of the bowl.

“I would tell you everything…if I could…” Arthur doesn’t look up. His voice is strained.

Vivi pauses in the doorway. “I know.” She sounds tired. Lewis’s heart aches. “That doesn’t change anything.”

Arthur flinches.

A sigh and Vivi adds, “I better not find you awake in an hour because I’m going to set my alarm to check.”

“What?” Arthur finally looks up. “You can’t do that.”

“I can and will.”

“…but you just said you have work in the morning.”

“If you’re not gonna sleep then I’m not gonna sleep.”

“But….”

“Just the way it’s gotta be apparently,” Vivi finishes, strolling out of the room, leaving Arthur- and, through him, Lewis- to stare after her.

Arthur slumps, “God…damnit…” rubbing his eyes. There’s no anger to the word.

No matter how many times he’s seen Arthur and Vivi argue in the weeks and months following his counterpart’s death, it never got any easier. They were both too stubborn for their own good. Arthur’s got a quiet, methodical stubbornness about him while Vivi is loud and abrasive. Mix that with emotional stress and an obvious concern for one another and the result was a whole load of tension. Lewis knows Arthur has low self-esteem and tendency to beat himself up and blame himself for stuff that definitely wasn’t his fault, but he’s never seen him this bad. It never seemed like that big a deal when both him and Vivi had been around to help. Vivi too, he’s never see her so stressed and angry at seemingly everything. Or maybe Lewis doesn’t know Vivi or Arthur as well as he thought he did.

There is movement in the corner of the room and Lewis notices Mystery for the first time. The not-a-dog had been lying in the corner.

“What.”

Mystery just cocks his head to the side.

“I know you can understand me,” Arthur mutters, shifting with discomfort. Mystery doesn’t speak or do much of anything, trotting out of the room after Vivi. Not too surprising. Another trend in these illusions was that Mystery tended to just sit and watch.

Sometimes, Lewis wonders if he just imagined the whole ‘giant fox’ thing. His memories for the car park confrontation are fuzzy, he’d been in a lot of pain at the time and probably suffering a bit of blood loss. He’s lived through so many of these memories that the real would seams so far away. Then he remembers those shinning teeth biting into him, and very real physical pain. That was real.

The real world was still out there.

None of these memories were real. He had almost forgotten.

“I’m not crazy,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing the dog uneasily before turning back to finish what’s left in his bowl. Lewis can’t read Arthur’s thoughts, but he suspects that his friend might be having similar doubts about Mystery’s true identity as well.

“I’ll find you, Lewis…”

For a second, Lewis thinks Arthur is addressing him directly before remembering that that’s impossible. This fake-memory-Arthur is addressing the ghost of a best friend he doesn’t know is dead. Lewis is only a passenger, watching life through Arthur’s eyes, invisible and stranded.

“I’ll find you …no matter what it takes. I’ll find you. And everything will go back to normal…”

…

The memory fades, darkening and Lewis is once again back in the dark.

...

“DAMNIT!”

He slams both fists into the ground, watching the darkness ripple under the impact. His yell doesn’t echo, swallowed by the nothing.

“Damnit…DAMNIT…DAMN IT ALL!”

Feelings of frustration and anger smother his hurt and sorrow. He growls, smashing his fist into the ground again. If this were the real world, he’d have to worry about bruising his knuckles or breaking his fingers. The void offers little in the way of resistance.

“I GET IT, ALL RIGHT! They’re miserable…they’re struggling…I get the point!”

Nothing responds to his shouting. He’s alone. He shouts again, screaming into the void. He’s stopped questioning the motive behind what he was seeing long ago. They were illusions masquerading as his friend’s memories. Designed to hurt him as much as you can hurt a person without touching them.

“Just stop already!” He rages. Nothing responds.

Fury, white-hot, is better than the creeping sadness threatening to drown him. Sure, being angry about things had never worked well for him in the past. He’d been a very angry child and it was only thanks to his adopted patents and then Vivi and Arthur that he’d put the unpleasant emotion behind him.

None of that mattered here. Here, in the dark, the anger is his only defence against the green bastard’s torture.

Lewis regrets not punching the asshole when he had the chance. He wishes he’d done a lot of things differently. Lewis continues yelling right up until the dark once again fades into another memory.

NOTE: Resurrecting this fic in anticipation for a possible new video maybe? One can only dream. Sorry if it reads slightly different, i’m a bit rusty.

Part 40: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #arthur kingsmen #Lewis pepper #angst #despression #interpersonal conflict #coarse language #HEAVY ANGST #lewis has a bad time #getting stuck watching anther person's memories? is there even a tag for this?#fanfic

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faejilly · 4 years

Text

Let’s Go Steal Some... Magic?

This is entirely the fault of a prompt from the Hunter's Moon Discord: “A Leverage Shadowhunter crossover where Alec gets desperate enough to hire a band of good thieves who’re known for being able to steal back ANYTHING to steal back Magnus’ magic.”

I take no responsibility whatsoever for any of this, but man, I had a great time writing it, so I hope you enjoyed reading it, too 😅 (With an extra thanks to @greentealycheejelly for double-checking it at least sort of made sense.)

Alec knows more about the mundane world than most people realize. He may, in fact, have helped encourage the impression that he's ignorant; it's not like he's been impressed by most of what he knows, so it's easier to just... not deal with it when he doesn't have to.

But there's nothing anyone in the Shadow World can do about this, so maybe... maybe it's time to try something else.

Only he's not sure where to start. He's going to have to ask for help.

Not his favorite thing, but. This is for Magnus. He'd do worse for Magnus.

Lindsay's probably his best bet, she's the one who tracks the bots and AIs that the Clave has keeping as much of an eye on the internet as anyone can manage, hoping to catch those mundanes who might cross the line from figuring out that what they're seeing is because of the Sight, into trying to do something like summoning demons or playing with dark magic.

Her reports on some of the conclusions their machine learning algorithms come up with are sometimes the highlight of his week. He liked the one that tried to figure out which folk songs were based on real adventures with the Seelie and Unseelie Courts versus the ones written by people who'd drank too much or gotten stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for a longer than usual winter.

So he asks her to come see him. She looks, unsurprisingly, deeply nervous when he closes his office door behind her, and he sighs as he sits down in one of the armchairs rather than behind his desk. "I need your help, please."

She doesn't look any comforted by that comment, but she sits across from him, and refrains from either glaring or babbling, so that's something.

"I need." He stops. He's not sure what he needs. "I need to think outside the box, and as the current box is Edom and the entire Shadow World is pretty convinced that that's an impossible box to open—" Alec stops, realizing his metaphors got slightly more tangled than he'd intended. "I think I need someone who is in the know but still mostly mundane, so they're not stuck on the same preconceptions the rest of us are?"

Linday blinks at him. She clearly didn't follow that.

He frowns, but she doesn't get more tense, so at least she figured out he's frowning at himself rather than her.

Clary might have given him multiple migraines and almost as many heart attacks, but she'd barrelled through things he'd thought inviolable just because she didn't know any better, and he could use some of that, right about now.

"Magnus traded his magic to a Greater Demon in order to banish Lilith's demon, and..." He trails off again. And I have to do something about it, but the only thing I can think of is trying to negotiate with said Greater Demon myself and that's a clusterfuck of epic proportions just waiting to happen.

He'll do it, if he has to, he knows this, but that should probably be a last resort, not the first attempt.

"You want to steal it back?" Lindsay's voice cracks half way through the words, and he doesn't blame her, that sounds more insane than anything even Clary would attempt, but...

He hadn't actually framed it that way himself, and he should have. She's probably right, and that is exactly the sort of thinking he needs.

"Do you think that's possible?" He tilts his head, spreads his hands in something that's almost a shrug. "I know there are Sighted thieves, and there's a thriving grey area of mundane and Downworlder interactions with magic that don't usually end up with dead bodies or demons so we don't do anything about them."

Lindsay frowns back at him, but she looks like she's thinking, so he waits.

"Well." She starts, stops again. "There is this hacker..."

Alec blinks. "I don't think the Prince of Edom keeps his stolen magic in a server."

Lindsay snorts, and rolls her eyes at him. "Ha, ha. Sir."

Alec shrugs, and waits.

"There's a warlock, Edda White. She fosters mundane children, usually ones that lost their parents to the Shadow World, or who have the Sight."

"And she's a hacker?" That's an odd combination of jobs, but he supposes it's something one could do from home while keeping an eye on a bunch of presumably traumatized children.

He wonders if there's anything they could do to help her out. Unofficially. Or officially? The Clave really should stop pretending the Shadow World's completely separate from the mundane world, no one believes that.

"No." Lindsay shakes her head. Pauses. "Well, yes, but she's not the hacker I was thinking of, I meant one of her kids."

"If said kid's already in the Shadow World, that's defeating my outside of the box request." He's not really trying to argue with her, he's just not sure where she's going.

"Sir." Lindsay levels a stare at him. It's not as good as the ones his mother or sister can pull off, but it's not half bad.

"Sorry."

Lindsay nods, and adjusts her glasses. "He's Sighted, and he's active on some of the forums the Clave tracks, helps people find resources or contacts, which is how I know about him, but he works in the mundane world. With a team of thieves who have pulled off some really impossible jobs."

"Edom impossible?"

"No, but you said you needed some creative thieves, and they're arguably the best in this world." That is something the Clave would know, just because the few truly occult artifacts the mundane world knows about tend to be expensive, so they attract the attention of the worst sorts of people and the best sorts of thieves... who then attract the attention of the Clave, to make sure no one actually tries to use the things they've stolen. "It's a place to start."

Alec nods. It is, and that's all he asked for; he hopes it's enough. "What's his name?"

Lindsay shrugs. "No idea, but I do know how to get a message to his team. They've an open call out for people who need help and don't have anywhere else to turn."

Alec feels his lips twitch with reluctant amusement. "That certainly fits this situation, doesn't it."

Lindsay concedes with a small nod. "I'll reach out, and let you know what they say."

"Thank you."

She nods again, slightly less smoothly, as if she's not sure what to do with gratitude, though he's not sure if it's because it's him personally or the Head of her Institute in general, and slips away to get to work.

Alec closes his eyes, and lets out a sigh, and tries to hold onto the flicker of hope in his chest.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe this is what he needs; maybe this is what Magnus needs.

Please.

***

Hardison blinks at the email he just opened.

He double checks the sender's address, and IP, and everything else he can think of to confirm it's not somehow a joke or a scam or something, but as far as he can tell by every test he can think up, it's genuine.

Leverage just got a fucking email from a Nephilim. On behalf of the goddamned Head of the New York Institute.

He pokes his computer screen, as if that'll make it disappear or something.

It doesn't.

Which is probably good, he's Sighted, not a warlock, if he started making the world change outside of a computer, he'd be in deep shit.

The email's surprisingly straightforward, in contrast to their usual potential clients, the Shadow World in general, and everything he's ever heard about Shadowhunters in particular. Shadow Hunters? Shadowhunters? He's not sure he's ever had to write that word out, he wonders which is considered proper grammar.

Holy shit, he's distracting himself with grammar.

He calls his Nana.

"I got an email about Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane."

"Fuck."

Hardison pulls his phone away from his head and stares at it for a moment before he can handle that. "Did you just swear at me?"

"Not at you, baby." He can practically hear her roll her eyes at him. "I was old enough to swear before your grandma was a gleam in her daddy's eyes, and you know it."

Yes, but you don't, Hardison almost says out loud, not around your babies, you don't, but he swallows it down. "Some Nephilim is asking for help from us, from my team. Do you think it's legit?"

She hums, some melody he's never been able to track down or place, never heard from anywhere or anyone else, and he's glad that that's normal at least. Nana's thinking noise is exactly what he hears in his head whenever he's trying to crack a particularly tough system.

"I do. New York's gone through some shit, and I've heard some rumours about Magnus..." She trails off. "Lightwood's reputation is pretty solid, I think he'd stretch those Nephilim Laws as far as he could, if he thought it was worth it."

"Should I take the meeting then?"

Nana pauses, but she doesn't hum this time. She's not thinking, she wants to make sure he is. "You'd have to tell your team what sort of meeting it really is."

Hardison's whole body tenses up along with his face as he scrunches his eyes as closed as he can get them. He wonders if Parker and Eliot really are part-fae, like he's always thought. They've both got more than a touch of the other when he looks at them out of the corner of his eyes, and it would certainly explain how hard they are to injure, how easily they lean into each other's space, as if they've never before found someone that makes some weird sixth sense relax.

Then again, he loves them enough it might just be his own aura sparking in the way.

He wonders, if they are just a little magic, if either of them know, and just don't think they can tell him.

He wonders if they'll be mad to realize he's kept a secret from them all these years, or if they'll be hurt.

"Yeah," he sighs, and opens his eyes back up. "Don't suppose I could get a family dinner to help uh... illustrate my point?"

Nana laughs, but it's sharper sounding than usual. "If New York's as messed up as I've heard you don't have much time. Tonight good?"

Damn.

This is clearly more serious than he'd thought, and he wonders what he's missed, busy focusing on his mundane life rather than the Shadow World.

"I guess it has to be. Thanks."

Nana doesn't bother to say anything else before she hangs up on him.

He turns around, and no he does not scream, that was just a gasp, and Parker and Eliot are in the doorway, both of them staring at him.

Check mark in the supernatural column.

He smiles at them.

They don't smile back.

Hey guys, want to meet my Nana, the centuries old warlock who taught me how to see demons so they wouldn't eat me?

Yeah. That's gonna go over well.

"Don't suppose either of you believe in magic?"

Eliot does that thing where he's not frowning but is really obvious about how he's refraining from frowning so it actually feels worse than if he'd just scowled at you. "You mean science we can't explain yet, or actual magic?"

Hardison tilts his head and hands with an eh maneuver. "Vampires and werewolves and fairies, oh my?"

Parker shrugs. "Archie always said he thought I was a changeling, does that count?"

Hardison shakes his head, and sees Eliot frown for real, and knows they both wish they'd been harder on Archie when they had him in their sights. "Yes, but that's a terrible thing for him to have said."

"Why?" Parker comes into the room proper to perch on the edge of the table extending out from his desk. "If it's the truth?"

"Because he didn't think it was true," Eliot answers, his voice low and rough. "He was using it to pretend it was okay for him not to take care of you."

Parker rolls her eyes; they've had this argument before. "But if he'd tried, I wouldn't have realized how much better at it you are."

Eliot jerks, like his whole body just tried to shut-down. Hardison can't even appreciate how remarkable that is, because he's too busy feeling his brain stutter right in sync.

"What?" Parker did that are you being stupid or did I make less sense than usual? face of hers, eyes a little squinty and shoulders just starting to hunch.

"Thank you, baby girl." Hardison manages, before she thinks it's the second. "I'm still gonna be mad at him for not trying though."

She frowns, as if she thinks that's dumb, but shrugs, clearly having decided that that's just the way it is. "So does that mean you think he was right, even though he didn't know it?"

"Uh." Hardison does a whole body shrug, because he's not sure why he ever thinks his conversations with these two are gonna go the way he intends. "I have no idea, but it wouldn't surprise me? You're uh. Better at things than most humans. You both are."

"Huh." Eliot says, but not like he disagrees. "But neither of us have a problem with steel or cold iron or whatever it is."

Hardison stares at him.

"What." Eliot stares back, and Hardison can't tell if he's fucking with him on purpose or not. Damn Eliot and his poker face.

"Did you say that because you know things, or because you read fairy tales when you can't sleep?"

Eliot's face looks like he wants to say damnit Hardison but doesn't want to give Hardison the satisfaction.

"Second one, got it."

"Kindaalwaysthoughtitwasaliensanyways." Eliot mutters.*

Hardison is pleased to note that Parker joins him in giving Eliot the look.

Eliot crosses his arms in front of his chest, and looks back, and Hardison sighs. He's right, they don't have time for that right now. "We are revisiting this," Hardison says, pointing at Eliot. "But first we're going to Nana's for dinner."

Parker actually literally squeaks, and he can't tell if she's excited or nervous. "Is she a fairy too?"

"No, and they prefer Seelie or Unseelie, depending on which Court they were born into, but you know, that's a whole separate thing we also don't have time for right now. Nana is a warlock which means she can do magic and she's immortal which I know sounds like more fairy things because they are practically immortal and also do magic, but I swear it's not."

It's his turn to be getting the look from both of them, and he stops. Starts again. "So. Uh. Demons? Totally a thing?"

Eliot sighs, and finally stops lurking as his shoulders relax into something more like at-home-Eliot rather than working-Eliot. "You made a multi-media presentation, didn't you?"

Hardison opens his mouth, and shuts it again. He did, like three different times, and he keeps deleting it and starting over, but he supposes that might be one way to go in order without thinking about Nana swearing and the email and trying to jump to angels are real and angel-blooded people kill demons and the Head of the New York Institute wants our help! before that means anything to anyone.

"Ooh." Parker sits up straighter. "Should I go get some popcorn?"

"Why not." Hardison can't help the smile, doesn't even try. "We'll have a proper briefing in five."

***

Magnus is not entirely sure why Alec invited him to his office, it's not like I can help with missions anymore, and seeing Alec sitting on the edge of his desk wringing his hands when he walks in the door doesn't calm his nerves any.

"Magnus!" Alec looks up, and his smile's not any more comforting than the wringing hands were.

"You're here."

"You asked me to be here." Magnus offers, and makes himself walk further into the office. He's not sure what else to say, and just lifts an eyebrow in Alec's general direction.

Alec shrugs, and bites his lip as he shifts his weight, and then suddenly his tension melts away and he's standing at parade rest and oh, whatever this is, it's clearly important. "I did."

Magnus holds up one finger, turns around to close and lock the door behind him, and faces Alec again.

Alec offers him a crooked almost smile, much more sincere than the last one, and the tension between Magnus' shoulder-blades eases a little, though it definitely doesn't go away. "I have a potentially terrible idea, but it's for you, so it's your choice to make, not mine."

Oh.

Magnus considers that, nods to himself, and goes to sit on the couch. He lifts his head, and makes himself meet Alec's eyes. "All right."

"I want to hire some... consultants, to see if there's a way to get your magic back without having to try and make another deal with Asmodeus."

Magnus doesn't move. He doesn't even blink. If he had his magic he'd probably blow up the chair next to him. "No."

Alec's shoulders slump. "Magnus."

"No." Magnus stands up, his hands clenched and his jaw too tight and he wants to scream, but he doesn't. "Asmodeus is too dangerous."

"And he's going to be less dangerous later if with your magic he can overthrow Lilith while she's still weak from the Mark of Cain?" Alec's voice is quiet, but even so Magnus can barely hold in the wince. "Do you really think he'll be more inclined to stay quietly in his own Realm without interfering with the rest of us if she's no longer there to keep him in check?"

Magnus swallows, refuses to think about the things he did at his father's side the last time Asmodeus freely wandered around Earth. "You said this was for me."

"It is!" Alec's voice and hands lift, and then he stops, his arms drop. He's holding himself so tightly it looks like he's a breath away from shattering. "I would sacrifice anything to help you Magnus, just like you did to stop Lilith, to save Jace, but that doesn't mean helping you isn't also doing my job."

Magnus can't move, can barely breathe.

He exhales, long and slow, and closes his eyes.

He can't argue that, because if he did, it would make everything he'd done to save Jace, to stop Lilith, all of it, for nothing. They can't let either Lilith or Asmodeus take over Edom without the other, can't afford the risk of that much power being concentrated in one person. Demon.

Monster.

Magnus opens his eyes again, and somehow Alec can tell, Alec can always tell, and he's right there, reaching out to cup Magnus' jaw in his warm hands before kissing him, soft and sweet. "Thank you."

Magnus huffs out a breath, and leans in to rest against the warmth of Alec's chest. "Thank you. So who are these... consultants then?"

"Um." Magnus tilts his head enough to look at Alec, who's looking at the ceiling as if too embarrassed to meet Magnus' gaze. He rolls his lips in tight, then pops his mouth open and sighs. "Thieves?"

"What." Magnus steps back, so he can glare properly. And also enjoy the way Alec's squirming, because it's not often Alexander gets tongue-tied around him anymore, and if he's going to go through with this insanity, he might as well try and get some enjoyment out of it. "You. Want to steal my magic back?"

"I mean, that seems slightly more likely than negotiating it out of a Greater Demon?" Alec shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck, and his mouth twists before his whole body sags with a sigh. "I don't know, but I certainly don't know how to get it back without risking Asmodeus pulling one over on us, do you?"

"But you think your thieves might?" Magnus can't help it, his voice cracks.

"Not my thieves." Alec shrugs again. "Lindsay found them, and Edda White said she could portal them to us whenever we come to an agreement on a meeting time and place."

"Edda?" He stops again. Edda, who fosters mundane children and likes to play with computers and has the weirdest running bet with Catarina about the stupid excuses they've used to convince mundanes that the magic they just saw wasn't really magic... "Mundane thieves?"

"Well, anyone in the Shadow World would start already convinced that it was impossible, wouldn't they?"

Magnus can't argue with that, either, and this is the weirdest conversation he's possibly ever had, and that's saying something, considering the number of times he's been high or drunk and determined to not let it stop him from doing... well. Anything. "Huh," is all he manages. "That. Almost makes sense."

Alec grins. "I know, weird, huh."

Magnus' chest aches, because oh, he hasn't seen that sort of look on Alec's face since they found out about Jace, before Magnus went to Edom, before he lost...

Before they lost so much.

Magnus laughs, and Alec's grin widens, a glint in his eyes as if he's as delighted and surprised as Magnus is to realize they're both actually looking forward to this. "Let's go meet some thieves."

#shadowhunters #leverage #jilly writes #hmdiscord #malec #ot3: 'til my dying day #my sh fic #* Eliot was on a stargate team #that's practically canon!

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

Here’s a title for the fic thing - “The Occult, the patriot, and the stars”

Look. Even though Tony’s a magical being, it doesn’t mean he likes being a magical being.

Sure it’s convenient in the mornings when he can wiggles his fingers and his coffee cup follows him outside of the door, and it helps when he doesn’t feel like putting in the manual effort to clean his house, but other than that, he likes doing things by hand.

His mother was magic, his father was not. His father held all the power in the household regardless. Tony learned how to do things by hand, and prefers it for everything.

His mother was the most powerful witch of her time, but this didn’t come without a cost. His mother was a good pretender, but he saw how her hands shook, how weakened her state was after driving back enemies for days, weeks without end. He didn’t want that legacy.

So he could be the most powerful magic-user the world had seen.

But he’s not, because he refuses to get started now.

This has caused some…minor hiccups.

Very minor.

Except not really.

You wanna know what’s really annoying? Fate. Fate is annoying, because it just shows up and is like “here is how it ends! Sorry if it sucks!”

Well, sometimes.

In rare instances, fate can be changed by certain people or a certain event.

One Pepper Potts can see into the future, and sees that her odd neighbor who gardens by hand and curses at his vegetable plants will be the one to save them all from a force that shouldn’t have as much power as it does.

She tells Rhodey, her other neighbor, and they both go over to Tony’s house and see him open the door and yell at some robot in the back.

“Are my noise levels up again? I swear to god I sound-proofed my entire house,” Tony pants. “Like, even the basement!”

“No, I have some news to share that you should know about,” Pepper says. “I…saw something.”

“Something cute, or something worse?” Tony asks.

“It’s not necessarily bad. At least, not yet.”

“No,” Tony says. “If it’s magic, I’m not dealing with it.”

“We’re talking about end-times,” Rhodey says. “You can’t just say ‘nah, fuck you’ to the world when it’s ending.”

Tony curses.

Pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Do you two have even the faintest idea of what I’m supposed to do?”

“Stop the end of the world?” Pepper suggests lightly, as if this is something that can be done in a weekend.

Tony snorts.

“How long we got?”

“Not sure yet,” Rhodey says. “But there are some people you’re gonna have to talk to in the council.”

Tony groans.

“I am not going to the fucking council.”

The Council of Magic is for the official wizards and sorcerers or whatever the fuck people are gonna call themselves.

Tony has had to go there about three times now, and ignored the last twenty-seven letters requesting his presence. It’s a waste of time, and he doesn’t like anyone on the council.

Least of all are the people that have been tasked with using magic to help save the earth.

“Fury,” Tony says.

“Decide to finally join in on the Council?”

“Only because my clairvoyant neighbor told me that apparently the world is going to end,” Tony says with a scowl. “Please tell me that you still offer complimentary coffee.”

Fury watches Tony fix his coffee, sipping it to himself.

“Seriously?” He asks Pepper and Rhodey. “He’s in charge of the main defense against Hydra?”

“Yes,” Rhodey says.

“God help us all.”

“Oh, God won’t have anything to do with it,” Tony says. “So. Who wants to fill me in on what I’ll need to be doing?”

Steve Rogers isn’t exactly…pleased.

If it helps, neither is Tony.

They don’t tend to mesh well, and this situation is no different.

He has strategies, he’s used to leading.

The problem with Tony is that you don’t lead someone like Tony. At least, you don’t lead them in a way that would be conventional.

“So you direct your attack here-”

“Not possible,” Tony says. “My inventions don’t do the possible damage in that far of a radius.”

“You don’t need your inventions.”

Tony gives Steve a dirty look.

“And you don’t need magic, Mr. Man-with-a-Plan. We all have our strengths and weaknesses.”

“Fighting without magic does nothing,” Steve reiterates. “You’ll be walking into certain death.”

“You overestimate magic.”

“And you underestimate the chance of dying!”

Tony scowls.

"I’m doing this my way or not at all.”

“You can’t afford to do it your way when there are others you have to worry about!”

“Watch me.”

He turns on his heel, ignores a very creative curse that Steve spits out with a middle finger and a blocking charm emanating from the very tip of his finger. Quite effective, honestly.

He goes to his house and works for two weeks. He refuses to see anyone besides Rhodey and Pepper, and then even for about twenty minutes at a time.

He returns to the Council with a blue glow out of his chest and a grim look in his eye.

"What’s that?” Fury asks.

"Nothing much,” Tony says casually. “Let me see Steve.”

War is something that involves waiting. No one tells you that, and you never really see it in a movie unless it is before the Big Battle. But often times you don’t know which one is the Big Battle anyways. They’ll tell you which one it was after you fight.

Tony’s good with magic.

Really, really good.

But it’s a last resort type of thing for him.

So he sends out drones, he sends out swords that come back, and people ask him how he learned a spell for that.

“Not a spell,” he says lightly. “Just a bit of GPS inspiration.”

“You can do that?” Clint asks, shooting off an arrow that never misses. (Got blessed when he was a baby, although he says it was a curse because he’ll trip on air at least once a week.)

“You’d be surprised what you can do,” Tony says, grinning. “I’m about to show you something that’s going to rock your socks.”

Introducing: Mark VI, which was not named after a guy named Mark, thank you very much Bruce.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Bruce mutters. “So what, you charmed your broom to look like metal?”

“No, it’s a titanium-alloy with flight capabilities, no magic involved,” Tony says. “Wanna see her fly?”

“Fly her now,” Rhodey demands. “We got incoming, and you need to hit them with everything you got.”

Tony’s cackle, at least, is spot-on as he dive-bombs crowds and drops off potions of his own creation, causing a bit more than a stink.

The tide of this whole battle is actually coming to a close, he thinks. He hopes.

(One tiny, itsy-bitsy thing that he forgot to mention:

He doesn’t exactly know if his reactor is going to work. Like, at all. It probably will. Like, seventy percent chance it works.)

No one knows this. This is on purpose. Rhodey had some suspicions, but Tony flashed a couple of incredibly fake equations at him, and for the most part he thinks that he was believed.

This is why he shoved Steve and Nat out of the way and is currently facing off the main magic source alone.

It should kill him.

It definitely will kill him.

He looks back towards Pepper and Rhodey, who are more important than probably either of them know, and he prays to whoever listens to these types of things that they’re okay.

Boom.

He’s flung back about a hundred feet, and is quite surprised when he can feel a broken rib and the potential start-up of a concussion.

He shouldn’t be feeling anything, or thinking anything for that matter.

“You are so stupid,” Pepper says, and it sounds a bit fuzzy.

“Am not,” he slurs, struggling to focus his eyesight.

“You are intentionally stupid,” Rhodey mutters, cradling Tony’s head in his lap. That’s nice. He’s definitely requesting that more often.

“I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy,” he says. “Like I’m about to get all eight hours of sleep.”

Twenty-six. So not as “all-or-nothing” as he thought.

They had Bruce fix him up, even though he’s not “that kind of doctor.”

“Congrats Tony, you saved the end of the world,” Pepper teases as he wakes up.

“Don’t congratulate me on that,” Tony groans. “Please tell me there’s no parade. Or tell me I can miss it. We can host a look-a-like competition before it, it’ll be a blast.”

“There’s a parade, you’re going,” Rhodey says. “Kids wanna meet you. They wanna build their own brooms. Apparently, yours is all the rage. I think one of your robots found it.”

Tony sits up in bed abruptly, wincing.

“Please tell me it’s not the one with the green on the tire treads.”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Dammit.”

Pepper snorts.

“If it helps, his claw had excellent grip on the broomstick. I think he was trying to bring it back.”

“He’s…he’s something else.”

Tony leans back into his pillows.

“How’s everyone holding up?”

“Fury wants to talk to you about what’s next.”

“What’s next?” Tony asks.

“You’re quite popular right now,” Rhodey says.

“No shit,” Pepper snorts, taking a sip of coffee.

“The only thing that is ‘next’ is me watering my tomato plants,” Tony says. “Has anyone done that yet?”

“…no.”

“Fuck. Shit fuck bitch. They need to be watered. Who has access to the keys of my house?”

“Is this seriously what you’re focusing on?” Rhodey asks. “You just stopped the end of the world, and you’re concerned over your tomatoes?”

“Well, that and my bots,” Tony says with a shrug. “We should get burgers. I need to get out of here.”

“You just woke up,” Pepper says incredulously. “And you want, what, burgers?”

“Family traditions, all that,” Tony says. “Come on.”

Rhodey and Pepper share a look.

Their neighbor was already interesting before this.

But they can’t wait for what’s next.

(Even if it’s just Tony shrieking that his tomato plants were dying.

And then Tony finding out that his magic seeped into his inventions anyway and cursing up a storm, which accidentally hit Steve and had him speaking in rhyme for a week.

It was bad.)

#lovelyirony writes #i couldn't decide if i liked the idea of peppertonyrhodey in this #(I mean do. but the effort i have right now is low)#pepper potts #tony stark #magic au #rhodey #also YES his broomsticks are his armor and he's Chaotic and Kind of Hates Magic #(but is mostly scared of it)#dum-e is still a robot and is Overjoyed when he gets to take a ride on dad's broom! he's been waiting for years!#fury #steve rogers #steve and tony don't hate each other rlly they just. kind of. disagree about everything

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keepyourpantsongohan · 4 years

Text

Ayesha Liveblogs Death Note

I’m watching this show specifically because of that text post that said, “Watch how quickly this one guy decides to be the worst person ever” and he has killed two people in the first ten minutes

Though 2 be fair he’s killing people to save people so it’s a trolley problem kind of thing for now

“In fact I’ve been waiting for you... Ryuk” ok weird flex Light but u do u

“You’re the first one to use to this extent in five days” WAIT DID HE MURDER ALL THOSE PEOPLE IN FIVE DAYS I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST LOOKING AT A LIST OH MY GOD??

“So there isn’t a price to using Death Note?” said Light, as if killing people is just a normal thing that we all do

Fhkjfhfkjb Ryuk really went ‘u used the book so we’re friends now’

I was wondering why the book was in English, and I guess that makes sense British and American imperialism really Did That

“I can write down the names of criminals, and slowly reduce the number of evil people” uhhhh doesn’t u being a Book Murderer also make you a criminal Light

“Human lives shouldn’t be taken so lightly” bah dum tss

Also I guess that revelation lasted about thirty seconds for you huh

Update from 15 seconds later: Even less than that

“I would create a world of earnest, kind humans” really because I don’t think places that allow the death penalty are generally nicer societies

It’s interesting that they use English in the classes and the notebook but the conversation at Interpol takes place in Japanese (despite the implied internationality and Ryuk’s aforementioned claim about English being most common)

Huh I won’t lie I do think it’s confusing that the main characters are L and Light, which also starts with L

“I am justice” I mean if anything this show just proves that no one should be allowed to use the death penalty on apprehended suspects in criminal justice cases ever

OH SHIT PLOT TWIST HIS DAD’S A COP (IT WAS IN THE TEXT POST I THINK BUT I FORGOT)

Wow this show is full of mind games already I guess I can see why like, crime show fans would dig it

“But I’m going to say this as your roommate” OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES KJHRGKJHKJHG

Interesting that someone is following Light specifically already

I mean not to poke too many holes in your plan Light but wouldn’t it clash with your plan to become God if you die at like 35 or smth

“You’re already much more of a shinigami than they are” Ryuk said my friends are BORING I want to hang out with this MURDER TEEN

“I may not look it, but I’m pretty popular” Light is exactly the kind of guy who ends up in a true crime special where a bunch of people say he seemed like a nice, charismatic young man

Man this poor girl that Light brought on this date is going to be straight traumatized after this

I mean isn’t it MORE suspicious if someone dies around someone with direct ties to the police even if it’s not a heart attack

“You were indeed a brilliant FBI agent once, but now you’re my fiancée” kjhfkjhg WHAT FBI AGENTS CAN’T BE MARRIED

“Once we have a family, you’ll be so busy that you’ll forget that you were an agent” I’m not a fan of Raye Penber

What’s the point in killing Raye at all???? He told you he was part of a special investigation so clearly he’s not that suspicious of you

Light sure is bold to announce his Killing People Experiments in the middle of a busy sidewalk

Incredible that consistently no one notices Light’s increasingly threatening declarations????

Fjkfkfhk these five cops finding out their Hail Mary is this strange little goblin man,,,, wow

This woman has really pushed Light to the brink just by giving a fake name, I admire her tenacity

Cops wearing fake IDs really did not age well oh boy

SERIOUSLY HOW DOES NO ONE EVER HEAR LIGHT SAYING SUSPICIOUS THINGS IN PUBLIC THOROUGHFARES HE LITERALLY JUST SAID “I AM KIRA” AS A DETECTIVE WALKED BY, WHILE HE WAS TALKING TO SOMEONE HE KILLED IMMEDIATELY AFTER

Wow it really took only eight episodes for L to track Light as close as one of two families

“You have a wife and daughter, right?” “I know!” I mean..... not 2 be that guy but... cops

“To me, apples are like... Well, like cigarettes and liquor to humans” Vcvhcjhj every once in a while Ryuk says something that really tickles me

I know the word sociopath is kind of outdated but man does Light have actual interests outside of school or does he just do stuff to fill the void of his lack of interests (outside of murder)

JKHGKJHGKJHKJHG I cannot believe that this has turned into a fake classmate situation first of all 1) are you going to become friends and 2) How old are you Ryuzaki/L?

“Where is that rich kid from? And he’s even at the top of his class? What a jerk” honestly a mood

I DESPERATELY want Light’s mother or sister to overhear his evil cackling will someone finally eavesdrop on this god complex

“If I sit normally, my reasoning skills drop by 40%” weird flex but same

Sidenote: I can’t believe how many episodes of this show I already have watched

Ngl I was VERY shook that Mr. Yagami had a heart attack. Also does Light care if his family lives or dies or is he kind of neutral on the subject?

“If Kira is an ordinary person who gained this power, then he is a very unlucky person” Dad and L said ‘if u ARE Kira could you please stop murdering thank you <3′

Light really underestimated how much cops hate anyone who has killed a cop oops

OH SO IT’S NOT LIGHT I WAS WONDERING WHY HE HAD NOT MADE AN APPEARANCE THIS WHOLE EPISODE U MEAN THERE ARE TWO GUYS WITH THIS EXACT SAME IDEOLOGY AND PLAN? INCREDIBLE

Update from ten seconds later: Two people, I guess

Well this explains the girl in the short dress which serves as the Netflix thumbnail of this show I was wondering when she would show up

Also she sounds like she’s very young? Clearly Shinigami don’t have a minimum age of informed consent when it comes to their Murder Eyes Contract

Hahah I bet Light didn’t imagine that his petty and fucked up apple joke would bite him so quickly in the ass

Dhkjdhdkjhd Misa is so bold dropping her Death God deets in a video for anyone to see

“The way to kill a Shinigami, is to make them fall in love with a human” does this mean that Ryuk is going to fall in love with Light or Misa? Both would make me uncomfortable

Oh wild guess Misa became a Death Note Wielder through the Power of Unreciprocated Voyeuristic Love

“Yeah, I have a girlfriend now,” said Light, after a girl contacted him through a series of anonymous video tapes implicitly vowing to be his disciple

“No one could tell who he’s attached to if I’m with this many people” [20 seconds pass] “Found him!” HAHAHA the funniest part of this show is consistently watch Light going “got ‘em” before it immediately is revealed that he doesn’t got ‘em

Why is Light so incredibly searchable??? I think the only way people people could find my height online is if I happened to answer it for one of those Facebook note memes in 2007 lmaoooo

“There are many places that will go and sell your personal records” ah, data breaches; a problem that has not gotten any better in the last 15 years since this anime came out

HKJHFHKJFHF Light immediately jumping into fake-dating his weird disciple in front of his mom... what is this show

“Please make me your girlfriend” OH MY GOOOOOD

This is one of the weirdest romantic dynamics I’ve seen in recent memory but you know what? Whatever, at least it’s not Anxiety and Murder

“Does that mean I’ll have to deal with her until she dies?” Light is truly exuding some Ladybird Book of Dating Energy rn:

The fact that to kill L all Light had to do was get an obsessive girlfriend... astounding

Beautiful that it took Misa less than a week of knowing Light to ruin his whole 15 episode game plan and also life

“I think I may be Kira” Well this show keeps taking one escalation after another this is exhausting why can’t Light just be a normal person who found it, tried it out of interest in the occult, discovered he’d committed a horrible atrocity and then went to therapy for the rest of his life only to confess to Magical Murder on his deathbed while his family goes, ‘Wow, Grandpa’s crazy’

Does L not think that keeping three different people imprisoned for days on end will lead to some psychological repercussions for him

FOR WEEKS ON END????? OH MY GOD???? The fuck L, I know two of these people are murderers but there are some minimum conditions of correctional facilities and this seems a little Stanford PE

THE DRAMA OF THIS EPISODE I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE A BLANK BUT HOW FUCKED UP TO PUT EVERYONE THROUGH THIS L I THINK YOU NEED THERAPY!!!!!!! I MEAN LIGHT AND MISA ARE MURDERERS BUT FORCING A MAN TO HOLD HIS SON AT GUNPOINT AFTER IMPRISONING THEM FOR OVER A MONTH IS REALLY A REFLECTION OF A COMPLETE LACK OF EMPATHY (especially when you think that this version of Misa and Light don’t know anything!!! Oh my god!! The fuck)

“I will make arrangements so you and I are together 24 hours a day” call me crazy but I would not want to spend 24/7 with the man who imprisoned me for over a month while playing cruel psychological games all the while

“I’m one of those people who’ll accept Kira, I’d think of ways I could help him” Misa said Bimbo Rights

“I could never toy with a woman’s emotions like that” Light’s dating life and personality has gotten a LOT funnier since he forgot he was a murderer I kind of wish THIS could be the whole show

Also: Nice to know Light USED to have standards of how to treat women

Honestly fair play to both L and Light they both deserved to be punched and it’s funny to see eighteen episodes of mind games culminate in punching and kicking each other in the face

“Matsuda’s being an idiot again” “Well, Matsuda is a natural at that” wghkjhgkj what has Matsuda done to any of you

"He’s punishing criminals as a front, and killing people for the benefit of this company” is Light unknowingly going to solve the murder chain he himself started... inspiring

“I was testing you” this is why Light is your only friend, L, Aizawa has kids and it’s a dick move to ask him to put his convictions before them

Poor Matsuda realizing he’s got the least to offer to their team... me in high school science labs

I understand Aizawa’s moral crisis but why do NONE of these cops care about their wives or daughters they’re just kind of like, ‘I will provide for you but I have no interest in or fulfillment from being part of your life’ (ACAB)

Matsuda is truly about to die for being dumb and eager to help 😔 Rest in Pieces

“We must not allow Yotsuba to figure out that we are investigating them,” said L, just after it cut from Matsuda being obvious about investigating them. Oh Matsuda 😔 you’re so bad at your job 😔

MATSUDAAAAAAAA oh thank goodness; Bimbo Rights save the day

“I can’t go along with your idea, it’s wrong!” said Light, despite the fact it took him 15 seconds to get over murder the first couple of times he did it

Staaaaaaaaay Good Light, I don’t want ur Deathnotesona I want this young man with moral convictions!!

The level of hubris it takes to answer a phone call during your secret Murder Meeting while people continue to talk about their Murder Plans is just out of this world

“If I die, you could probably become the successor to the ‘L‘ name,” said L, to the person he has been trying to catch for twenty episodes

“I won’t say anything under any kind of torture” “Yes that’s true” Which he knows because he tortured her for six weeks!! You see that that’s fucked up, L, right? RIGHT??? RIIIIIIIIGHT? (LIIIIIIIGHT???)

Seriously not to beat a dead Shinigami but Light is so much better like this. He doesn’t want to throw people’s lives away for the investigation! He wants to protect Misa! He thinks Kira is wrong! Why does he have to be a murderer!!! Why can’t this show be about a nice young man!!!!

“Hey Ryuzaki, that’s messed up!” THANK YOU LIGHT AGAIN I KNOW YOU BOTH HAVE KILLED PEOPLE BUT YOU DON’T KNOW THAT RIGHT NOW SO FOR ALL MISA KNOWS HE’S JUST A GUY WHO TORTURES HER AND TELLS HER CRUSH WILL DIE IF SHE DOESN’T HELP

Wow Rem is so ride or die for Misa protecting Misa from creepy Higuchi, giving her info and telling her to trust Light, that’s love bitch

Props to Misa for getting a confession out of Higuchi after one (1) car ride

Why do I feel like L is going to be responsible for reawakening Bad Light is it because he psychologically tortured him for six weeks? Had his dad hold him at gunpoint? Forced Misa to investigate on his behalf? Constantly and unerringly presses him on what Kira would be thinking as he’s handcuffed to him 24 hours a day? Maybe!! This is like Build-a-Bear but he’s customizing his Teen Murder Friend

“Only Mr. Matsuda can do [the mission to lure out Higuchi!Kira]” Death Note really said the Himbos, Herbos and Thembos shall inherit the Earth

They keep saying they don’t know how he kills but it seems pretty obvious that he writes down their names to kill, they literally saw him do it

I really don’t want any of the investigation team to die but things are not looking hot :(

“Ryuzaki, I never knew you could fly a helicopter” “It’s just intuition” what does that MEAN

“Those aren’t allowed in Japan,” said Light, about a gun, as if he had not killed probably thousands of people without one

In spite of this fact I really do want Good Light to stay 😔 Why! Can’t! This! Show! Be! About! A! Nice! Young! Man!

Also they really are playing into this father-and-son duo I will be very sad when the dad inevitably dies as I’m sure he will

Family side note: I’ve been wondering this since the prison ep but where do Light’s mom and sister think he IS now that he’s dropped out of first year uni to be a teen criminal investigator handcuffed to a maladjusted homebody private eye

AIZAWAAA and also the other two guys I guess there was a plot relevant reason for him to rejoin the police huh

Well what a clean ending to this Kira arc. No one died and the killer was caught! Yikes that the next ep is called ‘Revival’ tho 😔 Rest in pieces Good Light

Also a new and very threatening intro???? What happened to the Twilight Apple Hands

BOOOO I knew Light would get his memory back but I was hoping it would at least fuck him up for a while he sorted out his two personas but I guess all roads eventually lead to Bad Light

Full disclosure I stopped watching for a few days just after Light got his memory back and let me tell u coming back later hasn’t made it any more tolerable I am truly not built for this EUGH

“Do you really want to halve your life a second time” “Well, that can’t be helped” REALLY???? CAN’T IT BE HELPED MISA??? WHY ARE YOU AND LIGHT SO CRAZY

Oh I guess we’re back to Light saying incredibly suspicious things right near the investigators lmao what if those cameras secretly had audio or you know, L simply knew how to read lips

“Misa, let’s make a new world together” Remember a bunch of episodes ago when Good Light was all ‘I could never toy with a woman’s emotions’?? What was the reason!!!

“Have you ever told the truth at any point in your entire life” L cutting straight to the core lmao (also the answer is obviously ‘no’)

This show has taken a jarring tonal shift why are they having a post-rain-confrontation massage and towelling each other off this is a level of intimacy I was not prepared for I NEED PEOPLE TOOK LOOK AT THIS:

OKAY OKAY OKAY I KNOW THAT IT WAS PROBABLY NOT THEIR INTENTION BUT THE ONLY WAY I CAN READ THIS SCENE IS AS “Don’t kill me Light~ 🥰 I’ll fuck you~ 🥰”

I guess L knew he was forcing Rem’s hand to kill him if he disproved the rules written in the book?? But to what end omg how does this help anyone

“In April 2012, Light Yagami, age 23, joins the National Police Agency” should’ve known we’d land here eventually (ACAB)

Ah, I see another person who doesn’t know how to sit, clearly they will inherit the L title next lmao

Update from the first few mins of the next ep: “Near should succeed L” told you

“There’s no way I’m letting Sayu marry a detective” ahjfkhkjf he’s a little old for her I think but it wouldn’t be the worst thing this show has done romantically lmao; maybe Sayu would get to investigate her brother

“I might’ve considered going out with you, if you were a little younger” HA GOOD FOR HER

“[...] the Japanese police are unreliable. In order to solve this case, we want you to hand over the notebook to our country.” Of all the Japanese-speaking Americans in this show, this is the most accurate jkhfkhf the US government really is Like That

Ah, so that’s where Mello’s gone, oh how the turn tables

Also way to sell your subordinates out immediately, NPA Director, will you give them the Kira task force’s home addresses too

The real question is if Light actually cares about his sister enough to prioritize her over the notebook

“Call me... N” Oh my good L... M(ello)... N(ear)... Oooooooooooooooo

It’s my saving grace that I only need to get through 9 more eps but as always I must wonder where this is going will Light just die and end up in Shinigami purgatory while the people who knew him after the fact go, ‘hey, that guy was fucked up’

“If things get bad, I’ll have to kill Sayu” well I guess that answers that question, my expectations of Light are so low and yet he continues to find new ways to be awful

Good for Mr. Yagami and Sayu for getting out of that alive I guess but hoo boy I think this is going to have some psychological repercussions for both of them

Uh oh this episode is called ‘Father’ I’ve been dreading this one bc I think that means Mr. Yagami is about to die 😭😭😭

“It was an institution for brilliant children, to raise them to become L‘s successor” okay calm down Professor Xatari that’s not what children are for lmao

Well I guess it’s a lot easier to track down info about these two guys than it was to figure out L lmao

HAHAHA Sidoh haunting Ryuk to ask for his stuff is a fun addition to this madness

“He’s scary for a human” jkhhfjh how unhinged does Mello have to be to threaten a literal Shinigami

I truly don’t understand the logistics of how they revealed Ryuk to the police force isn’t the second Kira notebook supposed to belong to Actual Kira, in the police force’s eyes????? I do not understand how Light can just turn up with another notebook and everyone’s like ‘sure cool’ did I miss something

Mr. Yagami killed for being unable to take human life ugh this is the worst

“You’re not Kira. I’m really glad.” WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO SAD MR. YAGAMI NOOOOOOOOOO THAT’S WHY HE RENOUNCED OWNERSHIP OF THE NOTEBOOK

Neither Mello nor Near seem overly concerned with the lives of people around them does being a Super Genius Investigator also mean you have to be a dick (is this Benadryl Coddleswab Sherlock syndrome)

Lmaooo genuinely love how it’s constantly apparent that Light is the least smart of all of the smart people Light spent five years working on his reputation and it took Near one (1) phone call to destroy it

Ghjkhgkhgkgjh Light outsmarted by Near yet again never think people will prioritize principles over money

Lol yeah Aizawa needn’t have given a name after he said the “Deputy Director Yagami would kill Kira and then himself” thing, you don’t do that just for anyone who was he fooling

How does Light keep track of all the renunciations and notebooks bc I certainly can’t

Ffhkfjhfj Mikami truly looks like the son of L and Light it’s like Light missed him and was like, “Miss u boo :( (even tho I kinda killed u) I’ll adopt An Evil 27-year-old in ur honour :)”

Is Mikami’s story really, ‘I got bullied in high school and have mommy issues so now I think people I don’t like should die’ ok Shonen Snape

“I just want you to meet with me and hear me out” Light really proving to Aizawa that he can lie AND manipulate people’s feelings

“The truth is, she’s not smart enough to be my partner” first of all Light I think this show has proven you’re not that smart, and Misa’s Herbo Energy is effervescent and will outlast you, and third of all go to jail

“He’ll look suspicious if he doesn’t say something soon” “Ide, have you ever been in love” Matsuda continues to be the only good part of this show

“You’re the only man I’ve ever respected and admired in my life” GET SOME THERAPY KIYOMI

“You’re going to be the goddess of the new world” so it’s not enough for Light to be a murderer he must also be a cheater

Lmao Near’s powers of perception do seem a little B/BC S/herlock because L tried for literally months to work out the possibilities and Near is just like ‘I KNOW IT NOW’

“The only thing I can deduce from this is that Light Yagami is popular with the ladies” HEAVEN KNOWS WHY (PUN NOT INTENDED)

Every moment Aizawa gets closer to proving Light is Kira is another step closer to death 😔

“This is definitely Mikami’s handwriting” Not to be a know-it-all, Near, but handwriting analysis has been proven faulty many times in multiple courts of law

This truly is a game of Cat and Cat. All these hidden plans give me a headache fkjhkfjh call me Misa-Misa and spin me sideways I don’t have the braincells to spare

Well this is definitely some kind of s*xual assault absolutely fucking hate it wow this show truly just drains the life out of you

“Matt, I never thought you would be killed” why wouldn’t you think that at this point anyone who comes close to this investigation eventually dies (also wjkhkjhgk why is Matt special didn’t you kill all those thugs you had before -- Mello said ‘the lives of my allies are only important if they are drawn in handsome protag style’)

As of yet I haven’t really talked about Near’s wild toymaking but hoo boy is that L finger puppet something to observe

“Everyone who knows about the existence of the notebook will die” I’m still pulling for their survival, particularly Matsuda (himbo rights!!!)

Imagine if they just shot Light Yagami on sight how ironic would that conclusion to all these mind games be

“I’m waiting, for the one who will solve everything, to arrive” Lmao if it turns out L is alive I’ll pee laughing this show is so fucking stupid

Take a shot every time there is a Humpty-Dumpty-in-Puss-in-Boots style explanation about how everything actually happened

“I’ve won, Near” I bet/hope what gets Light caught is his inability to hold in his hubris for one (1) minute

Although the last episode is called New World, in which case maybe he wins in a very weird ending to a very weird show

Sjkfhkjhfkhfkjhf well I guess what gets Light caught is that the person he invited to be his murderous disciple keeps calling him God

“A second ago, you said ‘I win.’ That’s as good a confession as any” HA hubris strikes again also bold of Aizawa to clap Light on the shoulder knowing he is a mass murderer

Ohhh Matsuda he’s so nice and believed the best of Light :((((((((((((

Watching Light become increasingly desperate and crazed is very uncomfortable give it up dude u’ve been beat (though I suppose there is time for everyone here to be murdered still lmao)

LMAO LIGHT SAID “IF YOU CAN’T BEAT ‘EM, CONVERT ‘EM”

Yeah I figured if one of them was gonna shoot it would be Matsuda :( :( Good for him for not killing Light tho!!

Huh I guess that’s the end of the show I thought Light would die but I did think we’d at least get to see him in Shinigami Purgatory or smth... what a wild ride. This certainly was a show.

#ayesha talks anime #ayesha liveblogs dn #liveblogging #long post #sorry for any dn fans who stumble across this lmao i don't have the constitution for it

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idlecreature · 3 years

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the buried fic comment from hell (it's so long i'm SO SORRY, I GOT EXCITED)

DEL.. I WASN’T SURE IF IT WAS APPROPRIATE TO LEAVE A LONG ASS COMMENT ON UR BURIED FIC IN PUBLIC….. SO I’M DROPPING IT HERE i’m so sorry in advance this is about to be a mess,, i’m so fucking emotional right now

((the review under the cut is in response to my fic which can b read here))

okay first –

The mental image of tiny gangly Barnabas and Jonah crouched with their hands in the dirt….. is so fucking cute?? I could feel Jonah’s jealousy just burning off of him. You had me right away. Fuck. You know how to open a story and I’m deeply envious, I’ve always struggled with it. Also, you threw in that little hook:

Despite what Jonah believes, there are some things that just can’t be explained in words.

Barnabas’ voice is so fucking good… guh… you know. I didn’t much care about Barnabas in any deep way before I joined the Jonah server and you guys have all just completely GUTTED me, I can’t believe how much I care about this highly-strung bastard,, he is so GOOD. HE’S SO GOOD???? HE’S SUCH A SWEETIE. LIKE. BARNABAS FEELING GUILTY AND HORRIFIED THAT PEOPLE ARE GRATEFUL TO HIM AND WANT HIM AROUND???? AAAAAAAAAA. And the melancholy aspect, too, which I imagine is how Mordechai was able to relate to him, get attached to him… Barnabas being bitter about how useless his tears are while he’s crying anxiously at the prospect that he might not be able to help those families after all…….

All of those scraps of Barnabas’ letter to Jonah made such EXCELLENT transitions, holy hell. Again I am inspired by your storytelling prowess. I am taking notes, for whenever my ability to write longform fic returns from war. This one was my favorite, made my heart clench:

A good world starts with a good person and a few choices that are made with the heart—

He’s so earnest I’m going to weep ;_; Barny.. you can’t make Jonah a better person he’s AWFUL,,

(Side note, super digging that I can indent stuff, block quoting makes this SO much easier.)

Also really digging that Jonah doesn’t have as nice a reputation as Barnabas… Jonah is the bad influence friend lmfao. AND JONAH’S CAT… I LOVE HIM…

And then you delivered a swift blow straight to the religion kink, as promised… “There’s something undeniably old testament about Jonah; the fire and fury of creation, the self-annihilating stare of Lot’s wife.“ LOSING IT I’M LOSING IT… WHAT A WAY OF DESCRIBING HIM God, here I thought I couldn’t possibly be more attracted to this bastard man. I am aghast at myself.

LOSING IT EVEN MORE OVER BARNABAS STACKING TEACUPS ON JONAH’S HEAD???? Why must you make them so fucking cute oh NO this is going to hurt isn’t it. ((This was the note I stuck in the Word doc while I was reading it and I thought I’d leave it as was for your enjoyment))

“Taking cues from your dreams?” Barnabas replies. “You know only the desperately mad do that?”

“Or desperately inspired—savants and prophets and visionaries.”

And then you continued to try to kill me… Jonah thinking of himself as a prophet……. hhhhh canon-typical overambitious zealotry I’m HERE FOR IT………

“Are you trying to make me angry with you by playing the devil’s advocate?”

“Just testing you,” Jonah says in his alloyed voice, silver-and-honey-gold.

Del I cannot stress enough… My religion kink………. It’s been SO VERY ACTIVATED.

“Your morality has only ever been a thin cover for your shame.”

OUCH, JONAH, JESUS

Every bit of their dialogue was so familiar and tinged with bittersweetness and I owe you my entire life… Sincerely. Ugh. Like, how you described Barnabas’ internal angst about it later on – when he’s thinking of Mordechai, and he refers to "his many dog-eared fantasies” about Jonah it just really vividly conjured the thought of he and Jonah having a sort of? Queer solidarity, ESPECIALLY having grown up together. And that makes Jonah’s flash of betrayal at Barnabas not wanting to be SEEN with him that much more agonizing, personally. Like. I’ve had that happen to me more than once in real life. And much as Jonah is a piece of shit who is absolutely manipulating him………. still, ouch. Ouch. (Barnabas’ thoughts on the company Jonah keeps also made me wince. You did an AMAZING job with all of the internalized shame and frantic rationalizations, hooooooboy.)

The Lukases being colorblind is such an interesting piece of lore by the way I love it????? Now I have. Some questions, about Peter. Mordechai’s characterization in this is so fascinating to me. I’m enTRANCED by how you reverse-Uno’d it so that Barnabas was the reason Mordechai lost himself to the Lonely… the power dynamics……. so tasty. Ugh. And all of the sensual descriptions, especially of that first visit Barnabas had at Moorland house?? I didn’t clip any because I would have ended up clipping the whole fucking thing. It was aching, haunting, beautiful, holyshit. Their romance is somehow more fucked up than Barnabas and Jonah’s…

Also, I was so eager to read this I skipped the tags/warnings and completely didn’t realize Mordechai was going to be an actual vampire so that was a VERY fun surprise lmfao.

Barnabas feels like he’s close to learning something about violence and desire, how close they are, how the wires can get crossed.

THIS QUOTE IS EVERYTHING TO MEEEEEE ugh I’m having an aneurysm over how Jonah managed to fashion Barnabas into a creature that could understand him by gifting him to Mordechai for a while… letting Mordechai crack him open at the points where he was already brittle and experience an influx of some of the true darkness of the world. Just a tasty taste. That way when he discovers the truth of Jonah’s occult interests he won’t run away, because he’s already got his own fingers in the mess. He’s already given himself to one horror, why not Jonah? Shave some of the shine off of his morality, make him nice and gray so he won’t contrast so much with Jonah… And satisfying his curiosity at the same time. Two birds.

Oh, also, still sobbing about this line:

he realises that he doesn’t want to wear any colours that Mordechai can’t properly see.

EVERY TIME I let my guard down for ten seconds you smacked me with more of Barnabas being the most precious bleeding heart in the universe!!!!!! He aches so much for the people he’s trying to help and he hates people like Mordechai but part of him also wants to save Mordechai, somehow… maybe recognizes the parts of him that are like these people, still. Nearly faded but not quite gone yet. And as you’ve already established, Barnabas simply cannot let things go. Can’t disappoint people… can’t leave them when he could be doing something. Anything. Augh, FEELINGS.

Of course he knew Mordechai and Jonah were friends, he’d just temporarily believed in a sane and fair universe where things like this don’t happen.

AND YOU HAD SUCH A PERFECT BALANCE OF HUMOR… This could have been such a feelbad fic, and tbh it still would have been spectacular. But you always eased it at just the right moment to keep it from going off the rails into irretrievable deepdark territory. Fed me little soft moments so I’d still be vulnerable enough to have my HEART RIPPED OUT LATER…

I’m not super interested in the Buried canon-wise but I love how you’ve written Barnabas’ natural affiliation with it… so subtle but powerful? (Of COURSE Jonah was jealous, lmao. He had to work so hard and he’s still not on Barnabas’ level. There’s some kinda beautiful commentary on ambition versus goodwill in there somewhere but I’m too busy nursing my battered little heart right now to articulate it.) It wove its way in and out of the rest of the plot so naturally, too. For some reason it compliments Barnabas’ temperament as I read it in canon just… so well. Was there a discussion about this on the server, and if so, PLEASE tell me about it sometime I’m so fascinated.

Jonah wasn’t even present for a lot of the fic but his characterization was so INTENSE and luminous, Christ… I know I already praised it a bit but. Woof. I wasn’t expecting to get a taste of his POV at the end and I was so excited I kicked my feet (my cat was very disgruntled) like, this line!!!

Now, he thinks there’s some truth in those false statements, in the lies we tell and why we want to be believed.

GOD, YOU’RE REALLY GONNA GIVE ME FEELINGS ABOUT JONAH AND FUTURE-JONAHLIAS IN THE SAME FIC?????? EVIL… I’m so so so fucking here for it, oh my God, Jonah with an amplifying anxiety disorder, THE PRICE OF IMMORTALITY… too bad the Eye doesn’t let you see the future, Jonah, lmao… the line “immortality just made his anxiety turn nuclear” is SEARED into my brain now, I am NOT accepting canon to contradict this ever again. I’ve always wondered how Jonah’s neuroses might have worsened in two entire fucking CENTURIES and I love the way you wrote it. I am fucking. Losing my mind.

There’s so many other things I could comment on, like. The brief but glorious Jonah-grinding-himself-off-on-Barnabas’-thigh shenanigans. Was incredibly hot, and Mordechai’s poor fragile heart breaking, and Barnabas telling Isabel that it’s fine to call him Barny…….. I’m hhhhhhhhHHHH fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m just!! I am incomprehensible!!! Everyone told me this fic was amazing but it’s fucking amazing, Del, what the hell. I’m never gonna be the same after this. The end was SHOCKINGLY sweet and I have WHIPLASH.

………… So, now that I’ve made you read a novel. Hah. Sorry. My point is. I loved every bit of this. It deserved heaps more praise but my eyes are starting to cross. Thx for sharing :’)

Love,

Tony xx

TONY. TONY THIS MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME. FIRSTLY I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THIS. SECOND OF ALL, THANKS TO YOU I’LL BE SCREAMING FROM THE ROOFTOPS FOREVER HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW THIS REVIEW HAS AFFECTED ME? IT’S THE BEST FEEDBACK I’VE EVER RECIEVED IN MY LIFE I FEEL LIKE A FIRSTGRADER GETTING THEIR FIRST GOLD STAR I FEEL ON TOP OF THE WORLD LIKE I COULD THROW THE JEWEL OF THE SEA OFF THE SHIP AND LEAN OVER THE RAILINGS BECAUSE YOUR ARMS ARE AROUND ME TONY IT’S BEEN MONTHS AND THIS REVIEW HAS BEEN A FIREPLACE KEEPING ME WARM THROUGH THE WINTER MONTHS I LOVE YOU DEARLY FOR THIS YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE CHAMPION IF YOU WERE IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT NOW I WOULD FRENCH KISS YOU WITHOUT HESISTATION UNTIL THE BOTH OF US HAVE RUN OUT OF AIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING BLESS YOU TONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#fic review #mayormurdock #what the fuckkkkkk tony when are you getting your sainthood #long post #submission

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vampiricfairy · 4 years

Text

I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

Chapter 3

Word Count: 2183

Pairing: Jonathan Harker x Reader

Warnings: ⚠️TW ED⚠️

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone, calling Zoe.

“Good morning Y/N-“

“Dracula found me, I think.” You said, actually relaxed.

“WHAT?! HOW CAN YOU BE SO RELAXED?!?! I’LL BE THERE, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” Zoe hung up.

You sighed, you regretted going out that night.. To a certain extent, Jonathan was cool though but you probably would’ve met him regardless. You checked your texts, Jonathan didn’t text you which disappointed you a little.

After maybe 10 minutes of waiting Zoe barged into your apartment and stomped upstairs into your room.

“Y/N??” Zoe exclaimed and you gestured to the writing on the window.

“You need to be more careful, Y/N. Can you stay at one of your friends’ house?” Zoe asked.

“Probably.. I’ll have to ask-“ You said, before realizing something. “But wouldn’t that be what Dracul would want?”

“You’re right.. You’ll come to my apartment.”

“I- what? I would endanger you and- that isn’t a great idea either! I don’t want that!” You said, “I’ll.. Look whether one of my friends could maybe help me out? We have hiding place in my dads garage and it seems fairly safe.” You said.

“Just.. Don’t go out after dark and do your best to stay safe. I have to get back to work.” Zoe sighed, “I’ll check up on you later, alright?” She said and walked out of the apartment again.

After asking all your friends who possibly could help you out with your small issue.. Your friend Henry told you that you could stay at his house for the night. Would’ve been cooler if he weren’t madly in love with you, well rip you.

You took a shower and then cleaned the blood off your window as it wasn’t really a nice sight for you to seeing the blood of somebody you don’t know.

You packed all your necessary stuff.

Henry had convinced you to leave the house with him, it was sunset which made you nervous.

“I told Lucy we’d meet her.. She’s not as bad as you think she is. By the way she met somebody and wants us to meet him, I promise you it’ll be fun!” Henry said and held your hand.

“Please.. Not for long- I need to be home by sundown- I can’t stay longer outside than that!” You said, obviously you couldn’t tell him that a vampire who killed your great-great-great aunt and that he wanted to apparently destroy your bloodline, was chasing you.

“Why are you so pressed? At most we’ll stay outside for an hour! What are you so afraid of? You’re acting weird.”

“Henry!!” A familiar voice screeched.

You rolled your eyes, there she was, Lucy Westenra. Next to her stood a pretty tall man, he had dark hair and.. Wait a fucking minute.

“Bye hoes. I’m leaving.” You said as you stomped away.

“Not so fast, Y/N.” Said the man.

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Go fuck yourself.” You said, not turning around.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Asked both Lucy and Henry in unison.

“Nothing.. Just leave me alone!” You said and you started running.

The man followed you and you ran faster, for your life- not knowing where you were running. You saw a taxi and almost stumbled into it.

“Jonathan Harker Foundation, now.” You said.

The driver was slightly confused but started to drive, during the ride he tried to make small talk but you didn’t feel like it and snapped at him a few times. It really wasn’t his fault but you were probably being chased by the vampire that was trying to destroy your bloodline and that didn’t help your mood.

Once you reached the foundation you threw the money into the drivers lap, “Miss?? That is too much-“

“Keep the change-“ you said as you charged into the foundation and immediately flew into Zoe’s arms.

“Y/N are you alright?!” Zoe asked, a little surprised.

“H-he is with my friends- I don’t.. I don’t feel safe-“ you sniffled.

“Calm down first, what exactly happened?” She asked.

You explained it to her and she sighed, “it’ll be fine Y/N. You need to take care of yourself and maybe avoid going outside for a little.” Zoe tried to reassure you.

“What’s wrong?” You heard a familiar voice say.

You looked up and wiped away your tears, “Jonathan?” You sniffled before looking at Zoe, “how- why is he here?” You asked.

“He is trying to help us with.. Well Dracula.” Zoe said and Jonathan nodded. “The foundation is also named after him, so you’d think he would try to stick around here to help us.”

“I’ll take care of her, Zoe.” Jonathan said and tried to smile reassuringly.

“Alright, if you do try to hurt or.. Anything, you know what happens.” Zoe said, threateningly.

“I am very aware and I wouldn’t hurt her or you in any way.” Jonathan said.

“That’s cool but what’s the Wi-Fi password?” You asked.

“Count Dracula.” Zoe said before she disappeared.

“Alright, got it.” You said as you typed the password into your phone and waited as it connected.

“You could stay at my apartment if you want.” Jonathan offered, he seemed to be fairly interested in you and you didn’t exactly understand why.

“I mean if Zoe’s okay with that- but don’t you have to sleep in a coffin or something?” You asked, as you texted your friends letting you know that you’re okay. You realized something-

“I d-“ you interrupted Jonathan.

“I-I just realized that Dracula could have tracked me by my Snapchat location- holy shit-“ you exclaimed before turning off your location information on your phone.

“Snapchat?”

“It’s an app where you can talk to people and send them pictures, I forgot to turn off my location mode.. So that would explain why Dracula found out where I was.” You explained as you turned the ghost mode on.

“You have to be more cautious with your privacy, Y/N!” Jonathan said, as you looked up into his eyes to see a bit of worry?

“I’m fine- I mean I’ve survived the last 17 years and I’ll survive.. At least another 5 years- well anyways. Should I ask Zoe whether I can stay at your place?” You asked, feeling a bit silly as you felt like you were a little child asking for Zoe’s permission which made you tempted to just go but you couldn’t because you knew Zoe, out of all people would rip your head off if you didn’t let her know where you went after being chased by the vampire threatening to destroy your bloodline.

“Go ahead, darling.” Jonathan smiled fondly at you.

After a 30 minute talk about what you shouldn’t do and Zoe ranting about your safety you sat in a car with Jonathan and a driver. She told you to not fall in love with Jonathan, you didn’t really understand what’s there to fall in love with in first place- maybe that was mean but the dude low-key was a huge boomer. He had his attractive traits, yes, his eyes are fairly pretty but you were sure when Billie Eilish was singing Ocean Eyes she most definitely didn’t mean Jonathan.

Jonathan looked at you, “are you hungry? I don’t really have any food in my apartment but I could buy you something.” He offered, smiling a little at you.

“No.. Not really- Jonathan?” You asked.

“Yes, anything wrong?”

“Do you.. You know drink blood?”

“I-“ he hesitated a little, “I do. Just not as often as Dracula, I try to drink blood every.. Two days so I can function but otherwise not. I primarily try to choose lawyers as I enjoy keeping up with the law- it makes me quite happy.. Do you have anything that makes you happy?” Jonathan asked, trying to get the conversation going.

“Well I tend to enjoy listening to music and reading- it’s fun to go out with friends or learning new things, I’m pretty interested in the paranormal, occult and psychology.” You smiled, remembering the times where you would tell your friends creepy stories to watch the freak out.

“You really seem to be a Van Helsing, I’m not surprised.” Jonathan remarked.

“Maybe it runs in the blood, who knows?” You smiled sheepishly.

After a relatively long drive that didn’t feel so long, Jonathan led you to his apartment. His apartment was pretty tidy, small and rather well put together.

“You got a TV, I see- do you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Isn’t it a little late?” Jonathan asked, “not that I mind! I just think you should try to not sleep too late everyday!”

“Nahh! I’m good! Let me put on something more comfortable first though.” You said, grabbing your ag and disappearing into the bathroom. You kept your thigh highs on as you were wearing an oversized sweater. You honestly hoped Jonathan wouldn’t mind since he’s from another century, but he shouldn’t think about it anyway.

“Done!” You said as you walked into the living room area and flopped next to Jonathan on the couch. “I’m pretty sure you slept through all the good horror movies so why don’t we watch.. The Conjuring?” You suggested.

“I’m fine with whatever you want to watch-“ He answered with a small smile.

You took the remote and streamed Netflix of off your phone on the TV. You were feeling a little tired already, bit it wasn’t that bad yet.

You didn’t even remember falling asleep during the movie. As you feel asleep you rested your head on the next best thing; Jonathan’s shoulder. In your sleep you mumbled something and pretty much wrapped your arms around him, snoring lightly.

If he were able to blush, he would. But since he wasn’t he waited a little before carefully removing your arms and picking you up as if you were a fragile doll that would shatter at any moment. He carried you into a bedroom, placing on the bed and tucking you in.

He looked at you, admiring your sleeping and beautiful form before stopping himself from his thoughts. He quietly walked out of the room and to his coffin, lying down in it and closing his eyes. It didn’t really take long for him to fall asleep.

You woke up the next morning, a bit surprised about where you were as you walked into the bathroom and washed your face then brushed your teeth. Trying to find Jonathan you walked into a room and blushed slightly when you saw the vampire who was.. Shirtless. He seemed to have just taken a shower and maybe, just maybe, you were staring a bit.

You blushed even more when he saw you and mumbled a “I’m so sorry-“ as you closed the door again. You thought for a moment and remembered what you saw.

Jonathan wasn’t ripped or anything, his body was pretty average, he had a bit of pudge on his stomach but it was normal for the era he was from. So you knew from history lesson, yeah you’re big smart. But you somehow thought it was cute on him, wait why do you find a 148 year old cute?

You stood there with your back leaned against the door, thinking as he opened the door and you fell into his arms, luckily he caught you and you figured; today wouldn’t be a good day.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asked, a little worried, still holding you.

“I’m good, I’m great.. I-I I’m just so sorry for walking in on you, I should’ve knocked.” You said still slightly embarrassed.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” Jonathan said, “are you hungry? If you want to I can give you money so you could buy something from the bakery.” He offered you.

“No thank you..” You smiled a little.

“How come you never eat?” He asked, slight worry in his voice.

“I-I do? I’m just not eating as much because don’t like it.. I’m trying to lose a bit weight so, why not?”

“But why? Darling, you’re absolutely stunning.” He told you as he looked into your E/C eyes.

“Cool that you think so, I don’t. I don’t want to talk about it, Zoe would fry me.” You said.

“I won’t force you to talk to me, but I do want you to know that you can trust me.” He said and you sighed.

“I’m good Jonathan.. Really. Just don’t make me talk about it because it’s embarrassing.” You said.

“Do you want to finish the movie?” Jonathan asked, knowing that that would lift your spirits.

“Yeah!!” You smiled and flopped on the couch.

After watching a few horror movies you practically held onto Jonathan, you were a bit scared even if you didn’t want to admit it so you hugged Jonathan’s arm and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Johnnyy, I’m scared-“ you whispered.

He paused the movie, “nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”

“Well if you say so..” You smiled a bit tiredly as Jonathan played a little with your hair..

It all felt too good to be true.

#bbc dracula #dracula #dracula bbc #dracula netflix #aesthetic #reader x jonathan harker #jonathan harker #jonathan harker x reader #dracula x reader #fluff #drama #vampire #vampire fanfiction #Vampire fanfic #vampires

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