#there’s a whole red string board behind this post
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Today’s late night activity is [looks at notes] trying to guess which angelus leather paint Andy used on his second bleeders jacket
#black veil brides#bvb#andy biersack#andy bvb#guy of all time 🖤#maeve.txt#my bet is on chili red btw#the second one being the (assumably) non SOTU one with the blood lapel#there’s a whole red string board behind this post
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SWEETNESS ~ BUGGY
LA!buggy x straw hat!reader
Based off of this post bc it made me giggle PT 2
Nattie speaks: y’all this mf clown has no right to be so fine but LAWRD. I’d do anything just for one lick. This is short nd simple but cute🤭
ZORO DRAGGED HIS FEET across the wooden floors of the Going Merry, ignoring the muffled screeching of the clown head inside the dark sack as he set his eyes on thing. Nightfall was approaching, everyone on the ship wanted some rest, yet nobody was getting any with the constant whining of Buggy. The green haired man pushed open your door, making you jumped slightly as you looked towards him with a raised brow.
“I give up, all yours now.” Zoro voiced practically dripped in annoyance, he tossed the sack across the room, making it land onto the soft cushion of your bed before slamming the door behind him.
You could hear groans coming from the sack, “Damn you, you fucking broccoli-haired ass!” You chuckled softly, putting down the comb you had in your hand and walking towards the scruffy bag. As you released the clown head he sighed in content, breathing in the fresh scent of berries that engulfed the room. “Ah, sweetness, so good to see you!”
“Nice to see you too, Buggy.” You giggled, “You doing alright there?” You asked, smiling a bit as the man got comfortable on your bed.
“Much better now that I have you in front of me.” He winked with a flirtatious smirk on his red painted lips. “I definitely thought he was going to put me with that weird chef guy again so he could chop me into piece and cook me or something.”
“Looks like you got lucky today.” You smirked back, grabbing him and placing him on the small vanity, going back to combing through your hair. Buggy was a simple man, with simple needs, especially since his whole body was gone. The angle his head was facing gave him more fuel into his dirty thoughts. His eyes directly faced your chest, eyes captured on the line of cleavage peeking from the low cut tank top you had on. He was hypnotized by you, for the first time since he was taken by Luffy and placed on the ship to sail away to Arlong island he’d gone completely silent.
You simply hummed, clueless of how the clown shifted slightly to get a closer view. You suddenly let out a huff, dropping the comb and looking over at the clown. “Y’know, I like having you around here, you totally make me feel special and even though the rest of the crew might really, really not like you, know I’m on your side.”
“Mhmm.” Buggy hummed in response, eyes hungrily watching you. “I appreciate that, sweetness.”
You smiled. “You hungry?” You stood up and took him in your arms, cradling him carefully like he was a baby. The blue hairs that peaked from under the striped bandana tickled your skin.
Buggy enjoyed being around you, especially since you were so generous and careful with him, the others simply tossed him into the sack or an empty barrel whenever he even spoke. But you, you fed him, you defended him, you took care of him and did the exact opposite of what everyone else did. “I’m hungry for one thing, that’s for sure, sweetness.” The clown replied, eyes still clued onto your tits as you entered the small kitchen.
“Hey, maybe we can brush through that tangled mess once we get a quick snack.” You replied giddily with a big smile, “Hey, and wanna know another thing—“ You heard a string of groans follow as soon as you stepped into the room with Buggy.
“I gave him to you specifically to get away from him.” Zoro groaned, making Sanji nod in agreement.
“I’ll be out soon, stop your whining.” You replied with a roll of your eyes, reaching for the basket of fruit and picking out two apples. You picked up a knife and cutting board, quickly going to work and chopping up a few apple slices. “So as I was saying, nobody has ever taken me seriously, which why I also like you, you don’t make fun of me which is what many others do.”
Zoro and Sanji glanced at eachother with questioning looks as you proceeded with your mini rant, both of them making eye contact with the clown head that smirked at them, a cheeky look in his eyes.
“But I mean, Luffy chose me to be a part of his crew so obviously I can be more, I’m not dumb, and I feel like more people need to take me seriously.”
“Hey.” The clown smirked as he watched your every move, finally speaking up about his slight obsessing with your chest. “Nice tits.”
“Thank you!” You happily replied with a smile, placing the slices on a clean plate and taking Buggy back to your room as everyone stared in shock. “Goodnight boys!”
“Yeah, goodnight fellas!” Buggy called out, and if only he’d had the rest of his body he’d most definitely be given them a middle finger.
“How is it that a clown can do better at getting that girl then me?” Sanji muttered in annoyance.
Forever will live, love, and laugh Buggy
yummy, I <3 men who are bbyg’s
#buggy is my man#buggy the clown#buggy the genius jester#buggy x reader#buggy thoughts#one piece#one piece show#one piece live action#buggy smut#captain buggy#buggy one piece#buggy
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Welcome to my Red String Board for the Magnus Protocol. Instead of making new posts I'm just going to reblog this and add new thoughts after every episode and update certain theories. Things might be a little bit messy because some of this is a bit stream of conscious but I'll try my best to at least keep the formatting consistent. So let's get this party started. 1/24/23: As of this writing the first two episodes have been released. Theory: As more episodes come out and we get more cases/ statements, is there going to be a pattern to the "Talker" statements and which voice gets used (or if it's a Talker at all?). References to specific subjects, Entities, other themes? What we have right now: “Talkers”
Norris (Voice: Martin?/ Alex)
Episode 1: “Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]”. The Stranger? The End? The Dark? The Lonely? The Flesh? Arthur (Nolan?).
Chester (Voice: John?/ Jonny)
Episode 1: “Transformation (eyes) -/- Tresspass [chat log]”. Magnus Institute, The Eye. (Involves a forum; the Web?).
Agustus: N/A
Non-Talkers (?) Episode 2: "Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]". The Spiral? The Flesh. The Stranger. Ink 5oul (avatar/ entity?) Are different characters aligned with certain Entities (working off of known Entities from TMA)
Alice = Spiral? (Conspiracy Theories). Web? (Is the reason why Sam got his job. Her whole conspiracy theory thing could be way to mess with people/ manipulate them)
Gwen = The Buried (?) (Behind on her work. Ambition?)
Colin = The Slaughter? (Irritability) The Eye? (Something’s listening?)
Sam = The Eye (Hunger for knowledge/ need to know even when warned it could be detrimental).
I have a theory about the butterfly effect/ multiverse theory regarding the manifestation of the Entities and new ones emerging as a result of things being just different enough for it to happen. The full thing + my support for it is long enough to warrant it's own post though so I'm going to make it one and then probably link it here just for record keeping purposes. Edit: My Butterfly effect/ Multiverse Entity Theory
#the magnus protocol#the magnus protocol spoilers#tmp#tmp spoilers#tmagp#tmagp spoilers#the magnus protocol speculation#tmp speculation#tmagp speculation#Shizu's Red String Board
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I've never posted a fanfic on this platform before, so sorry if anything looks weird. The characterization may be a bit iffy *shrug* I wrote this at like 3am. Also, I don't write smut often, so I expect this to feel about the level of a cheesy romance novel, and maybe that's fine. Can you imagine Estinien on the cover of one of those?
Summary: The WoL is feeling burnt out and lonely, Estinien shows up and helps her relax.
Pairing: Delphinium(WoL)xEstinien
Rating: NC-17
Tags: first time, uuuh size kink i guess? Barely, basically pwp, minor plot, I'm not sure what else. I don’t do this often, sorry lol so i’m not sure what should be tagged
Word count: 3,250
Delphinium sighed as she closed the door to her inn room behind her. The sound of the other scions’ drunken merrymaking muffled to a whisper and she was thankful for it. Of course, she loved celebrating a job well done as much as the next adventurer but once things got too loud and rowdy, it was time to make her exit. The boisterous cheering and laughter and music was just too overwhelming.
She took a few deep breaths then simply stood there, staring at nothing really. The room was a bit stuffy and her clothing felt stifling. Her rapier felt heavy at her hip. She was exhausted.
She finally peeled herself from the door and laid down her weapon on the bench. Her fingers brushed her harp as she withdrew her hand. She stopped and gave it a long look. She hadn’t played it since becoming a red mage some time ago. It was gathering dust and probably had fallen out of tune. Tired as she was, maybe a little bit of mindless work would do her well. She picked it up gently and sat down right where she was on the floor. The old wooden boards creaked slightly under her. She began cleaning and tuning the neglected instrument, all other noises fading into the background and her mind fell more at ease as she focused. Her fingers worked meticulously. Her ears missed nothing, quickly fixing any sour notes. Her scaly tail swished gently behind her the more she got into it.
Quite some time had passed when she gave the harp a satisfied nod. The noise from the lobby had disappeared. They’d finally decided to call it a night. That meant it was likely around midnight now. She hadn’t meant to stay up so late but admittedly, doting on the harp had somehow given her a bit of a second wind. She looked around the room absently, fingers just barely touching the strings and creating a mere whisper of song. What should she do now? Her eyes fell back on the instrument in her hands. It’d been a while since she sang. While less so than playing the harp, as she did sing to herself on occasion, she hadn’t truly sang and she began to feel like perhaps she should.
She loved singing. She always had. It was why she initially sought the way of the bard to begin with. To use song in battle had started to strip the joy from it, however. A side effect she never would have expected. That was the reason she turned to the blade. The others of course had questioned her decision. She played her role as bard well, and no doubt they enjoyed to hear it even if their focus was battle and not her performance. She’d told them it was simply to strengthen herself and feel more helpful with damage. It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole, intimate, personal truth that she had never told anyone.
In a swift motion she stood with the harp and made her way across the room to open the door to the balcony. The night was crisp and quiet, with naught but a few insects disrupting the silence. Her chest swelled as she breathed deep of the cool air. It was only when a small shiver ran through her that she realized she’d been sweating. She paid no mind and began to string together notes that drifted into the night. Then her sweet voice joined in. It was an old song. One she didn’t even remember learning. It was simply part of her core despite having few memories from before her arrival in Gridania on that carriage. A lullaby from her people she presumed, with its soft melody and lilting sung notes.
Her song faded into an echo as she finished. A small smile graced her lips.
“That was lovely.”
She nearly jumped out of her scales at the sudden voice. Normally it was difficult to startle the Warrior of Light but Estinien had a way of catching her off guard randomly. Had he been there the whole time? Why did he jump onto her balcony of all places? He was probably lost. She gave him an exasperated look before turning on her heel to return to her room. His footsteps followed behind her.
“My intent wasn’t to frighten you,” he said.
He seemed sincere but she could hear the mirth in his voice. Yet somehow she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to leave. Without a word she placed the harp in its previous resting spot. She found herself simply standing and staring at nothing again.
The material of Estininen’s trousers caught gently on one of her tail spikes and she became aware of his presence directly behind her. He was close, a hair’s breadth from her back.
“What is it,” he asked. “You only stand about like this when something is on your mind.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder and that was all it took for her demeanor to completely break away. She relaxed back against his body with a sharp sigh, her head resting just barely at his navel.
“Delphinium?”
He sounded concerned. She gently placed her hand over his. His hand felt so large. She imagined what they might be like holding her more intimately. She quickly shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind. Sure, they had their banter, and yes, many knew it was flirtatious but that was all it had ever been and this.. was entirely too comfortable. She couldn’t afford herself this. She suddenly wanted desperately to move away from him but she was stuck between him and the bench. She decided on a side step but, in her exhaustion, quite embarrassingly caught the edge of Estinien’s boot. He caught her with ease before she could fall to the ground. Their eyes met, and for a moment there was nothing in the world but the concern in his eyes as they searched her own.
Her breath hitched when she was pressed against him. Her feet left the floor, and it took her a moment to realize he had lifted her to crush her against his chest in a tight embrace.
“Whatever it is,” he said quietly. “I hope that you would trust me enough to tell me.”
The dam broke. She gripped his tunic as her tears streamed down cheeks. Estinien held tighter and gently lowered to sit on the floor as she sobbed into his chest. She easily fit into his lap.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “It’s just all been so much. I’ve done so much in so little time. I barely have any time to rest. I always have to be strong for everyone. I’m just so..tired.”
He said nothing but continued to hold her close. A hand stroked her hair gently. After a while, she calmed, taking deep breaths.
“You must think so little of me now,” she chuckled dryly. “The great hero, crying like a child.”
“No,” he said. “I know how much you hide your emotion. You bear quite a burden and you seldom let anyone see what you truly feel. I know how I seem, but I do understand you.”
She looked up at him at his words. Being half his size, she’d never seen his face so close before. She’d also never been so vulnerable with anyone, yet here she was looking so deeply at him with tear stained cheeks. He used a thumb to wipe a tear from her eye, then his hand drifted to caress her cheek. His thumb dared to ever so gently brush across her lip, the pink of her lipstick leaving a faint streak on his skin.
It was Delphinium that closed the distance between their lips. She gave in to the desire she held since she first battled alongside him on the bridge. He didn’t resist her, secretly having had the same thoughts since that moment. He’d cast them aside as he continued to focus on his revenge, but now there was nothing to hold him back. He helped her adjust into a more comfortable position as he deepened the kiss.
Her hands found their way into his long tresses, while Estinien’s hands rested comfortably at her waist and back. The tiny moan as Delphinium allowed his tongue access sent a shiver through him. They stayed there a while. There was no battle for dominance. Delphinium gladly gave into him, letting someone else take the lead of something for once.
Somewhere they’d ended up with Delphinium on the floor beneath him. His lips found their way to her neck, and she finally registered her horns scraping uncomfortably against the unforgiving wood as she arched a bit into him. She stopped his hand as it began tugging at the laces of her blouse. He paused, looking at her.
“Let's have a bath,” she said breathlessly.
“After. We’d need another once we’re through.”
She gave a bit of a snort at that. “Please. I want you to bathe with me. We should be clean before we do anything.”
He relented easily. One more kiss, then he helped her to her feet. She held his hand and led him to the washroom with a smile.
As the tub filled, Delphinium felt a wave of self-consciousness. She had her back to her companion, but could hear him beginning to undress. She weighed the possible consequences of following through with her actions. Was this a good idea? Could she afford to be involved with someone so intimately? Could she allow herself?
A hand on her arm turned her toward Estinien. She looked up at him immediately, trying to ignore his naked groin just below her eye level. He slowly began to unlace her blouse. He looked at her, silently asking permission to remove it. She nodded. As he worked to undress her, her eyes scanned over the scars decorating Estinien’s upper body. They were many, some old and faint, some clearly more recent. When he knelt down to remove her boots, she caught sight of his gnarled shoulder. Without thinking, she reached toward it, her fingers carressing over the marred flesh as gently as they had the harp strings earlier that night. He looked up at her and she muttered an apology, removing her hand.
“It’s all right,” he said and continued the task at hand.
Now both fully nude, a blush crept over Delphinium’s face. She noticed Estinien’s cheeks began to dust with pink as well and smiled. She took his hand and guided him into the warm water with her. Seeing his scars reminded her just how strong and resilient the Elezen was. To hell with her doubts, Estinien could handle himself. The fear of losing him would always be there, but she knew he would not fall easily. She was tired of handling everything alone. It was clear he felt the same.
The tub was more than large enough for them and she was thankful not to have ended up cramped together. She’d never been so close to anyone, let alone been naked with them. But she was the one that wanted this and wouldn't back out now. Estinien watched her while she began to lather soap onto a cloth. She tried not to appear so nervous under his gaze.
She looked at him, this time being the one to silently ask permission. He nodded just as she had. She washed him gently. Upon reaching the scar on his shoulder, he placed a hand over hers. She understood, relinquishing the cloth to him. She found another and scrubbed her face, removing her lipstick. Wiping under her eyes, she realized how smeared her makeup must’ve been, and how silly she likely looked. She laighed to herself, drawing Estinien’s attention.
“What is it,” he asked.
“Nothing. Just imagining how I must've appeared this whole time. I’m sorry for suddenly crying at you. And sorry if your tunic is stained.”
It was his turn to chuckle. “Pay no mind. I have other tunics. I’m honored you shared your tears with me.”
She smiled and kissed his hand gently. “Let me wash your back?”
He nodded, then turned to give her access, moving his hair off to the side. She rubbed the cloth over him, again noting all of his scars. She kissed a thin scar near the base of his neck. He turned to her and she was about to apologize when he captured her lips with his own once more.
“Your turn,” he whispered.
She looked at him confused.
“Your back? I should return the favor.”
“Right,” she laughed awkwardly and quickly turned away from him.
He didn’t hide his chortle. He was a bit rougher with his washing than Delphinium would normally be. However, she could tell he was cleaning her scales with the same precision he cleaned his weapons. She relaxed into it with a sigh, drawing her knees up and leaning her chin on them to keep her head above the water. He was nearly massaging her at this point and she felt like she could fall asleep like this.
Estinien pulled her into his lap, her back flush against his chest. He seemed to ignore the small spikes of her tail biting into his stomach. She shivered against him as her breasts were exposed above the water. She became more alert again when she felt a hand glide up around one of them. Of course, she couldn’t sleep just yet. This is what they both had been looking forward to.
She was aware of her short stature, but now with his hand covering her ample breast she felt downright tiny. It was as thrilling as she imagined. She let out a breathy sigh as his fingers teased the bud of her nipple. She felt his other hand move downward, brushing over the deep scar on her lower abdomen. She knew he must’ve seen it earlier. She expected he’d ask about it, and was a little surprised he hadn’t. It didn’t necessarily bother her to speak of it, but it did bring back memories of awful pain. His hand didn’t linger over the scar for long, and drifted lower still.
Another sigh left her lips when his long fingers met their destination between her thighs.
She squirmed slightly at the sensation his rubbing fingers sent through her. A moan escaped her throat and that seemed to encourage him quite a lot. She felt his erection growing beneath her, the length of it coming to rest against the cleft of her heated folds. He continued his motions. Her breathing became more erratic, and her moans more frequent. She never thought he’d bring her to the edge so quickly but she couldn’t hold back.
She couldn’t help but rock her hips into his massaging fingers, the motion also grinding against the erection between her legs.
Estinien pressed his lips to her shoulder, stifling a heated groan that went straight to Delphinium’s core. She climaxed with a shout that echoed embarrassingly through the large washroom. His fingers lingered a few moments longer as her spasms calmed. Then, he moved to grasp his length. He held her impossibly closer as he stroked himself to his own completion. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with him breathing heavily in her ear, she would worry about her tail possibly drawing blood from his crushing embrace.
He finished with a grunt then finally loosened his hold. They both needed more.
“Bed, now,” Delphinium said.
They wasted no time. Drying just enough so as not to slip, he carried her easily to the bedroom. He all but tossed her onto the soft bed and immediately he was crawling over her, planting a trail of kisses along her thigh all the way up to her breasts. She moaned quietly as he mouthed at the perked nipple, her hands gripped his hair gently, urging him on. His tongue flicked over the bud, earning him a louder sound and a twitch. Satisfied, he continued his trail upward, finally capturing her lips for what seemed like the thousandth time that night.
Again, she allowed his tongue access, gasping against his lips while his thumbs firmly caressed her nipples. Her legs spread wider of their own accord and she was beginning to ache for him.
“Estinien,” she breathed. “I need you now.”
Without hesitation, Estinien sat back to hold her hips. He gently probed the tip of his erection at her entrance. She watched him eagerly, the difference in size wildly apparent. Neither had any idea if it would truly fit, but by the twelve, they weren’t about to stop now.
Their eyes met and she gave a quick nod. The tip plunged inside her not a moment later. She gasped out a moan and tangled her hands into the bedsheet as he slowly slid the rest of his length into her heat. He grunted out his own pleasured moan as it engulfed him. He paused, the only sound was their panting breaths. He gave her a minute to adjust to him. Then, at her nod, began a quick pace of thrusting. While it would’ve been lovely to take it slow, they both desperately needed this connection and release. There was no way he could hold himself back now.
Delphinium’s fervor matched his, a string of moans falling from her parted lips. She watched him with half lidded eyes, memorizing the way his muscles clenched with each movement.
Estinien carefully pulled her up into his lap. She let out another moan of pleasure as the new position pushed him deeper still. Her hands glided over him, feeling his chiseled body. She kissed his chest and held tight as he began to move once more. His thrusts were quickly growing desperate, she was nearing her limit as well. His passionate, breathy, moans were right in her ear again. Her own sounds had gone up an octave. With a few more thrusts, she was pushed again over the edge into that wonderful, white hot pleasure. Moments later she felt him pulsating within her, filling her to the brim with his seed.
Panting, he stroked her freckled cheek and realization settled in. She saw the streak of panic in his eyes and gently shook her head.
“I can’t,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.
His mind flashed back to the scar he’d felt on her stomach and he relaxed, understanding.
They held each other close as they caught their breath, and the high passed. Gently, he laid her on the bed and disappeared for a moment.
Delphinium was already beginning to let sleep take her when he returned. She startled slightly when the warm, wet cloth touched her, but once she understood she allowed herself to fall into her slumber.
Estinien cleaned them carefully. While typically he wouldn’t bother, he remembered how much Delphinium hated to feel sticky. He would do anything for her. He would die for her. Of course, he’d try very hard to never let it come to that.
He settled them under the blankets and watched the sun slowly light up the room.
#ffxiv#ffxiv wol#final fantasy xiv#ffxiv oc#wolstinien#wol x estinien#estinien varlineau#estinien wyrmblood#ffxiv estinien#delphinium nightshade
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In the Last Strains of Sunlight
Remus and Maria, Katie, Emmeline and some lady called Delilah. Ocs
She turned on her heel and, kicking up much dust, strolled meaningfully out of the courtyard, toward the idle kitchen.
Maria clapped her hands once, "To work!" She yelled, taking up a knife and chopping board. She cut carrots toward herself, disregarding every safety lesson she'd instilled in her child, but at an astonishing pace.
All around her, staff came out of the woodwork, each continuing their respective jobs like any other mundane day at work. Many eyed her warily at intervals, fingering the bandages they were instructed to keep at hand in their aprons.
Two maids chattered as they deboned fish, speaking of the weather and wedding outfits. A third leaned across, muttering, and the original two burst into a bout of giggles. The third returned to her post, a pleased smile on her lips.
With the sun now retreating in the west, the air gained a stubborn chill. The kitchen, however, remained boiling as the pots on their stoves.
Remus wrapped their- Or, rather, their mother's- shawl around their shoulders, holding it tight in one fist. They made their own retreat toward the west, clambering over rocks and stray clumps of Earth.
Eventually, in the last strains of sunlight, they fell to their knees on the beach. They dug their fingers into the sand, feeling the sharp grains dig into the pads of their fingers, embedding under their nails...
Remus shuffled forward on their knees to the tide-owned sand, tracing a sweet, swirling font into the soggy canvas.
Their skirt grew moist, clinging to their knees as they bent over their work.
In their opinion, sand was the ideal place to write a journal. Afterall, who would invest but the tide? And, if nothing else, who could possibly keep your secrets secure?
"Remus!"
The sun had long descended over the hills. Remus squinted at the rocks, who...
"Katie!"
She held an old oil lantern aloft above her head, using it to light her way.
Her sole comment: "You'll never get that stain out of that skirt."
Remus shrugged, "Then I'll just have to stain the whole thing, won't I?"
Katie shook her head fondly, handing the lantern off. She didn't glance at the sand, but only led Remus home, to the beacon of light that was the restaurant.
Her blue hair looked green in the lantern's yellow light. Remus thought it looked ethereal. Her red roots, however, looked black.
The dozens of string-lights Maria had purchased and strung up in the courtyard were lit, illuminating figures as they twirled in a dance and laughed drunkenly, leaning on cobblestone walls in their lack of balance.
Empty bottles lay strewn across tables, balanced on handrails, forgotten by the bar. Ditching the lantern behind the bar with Emmeline, Remus piled half a dozen into their arms. Following suit, Katie did the same.
The two carried their loads through to the recycling bin, where they met their fate. After that it was simply a matter of as many trips as it took. That number, as it turns out, was six.
Katie took her leave after three, kissing Remus chastely on the cheek. She grasped her brother by the wrist, commanding he say goodbye to Remus.
"Bye." Carter said curtly, stomping toward the door on bare feet. Katie left him in the care of the kitchen staff for a mere hour, apparently he'd learned from them what real discipline looks like.
Remus smiled, "Bye, sweetheart."
They gathered the remaining thirty-four bottles before returning to Emmeline. She returned their lantern with an easy smile, spinning a cocktail shaker with one hand.
With her other, she wrote on an order sheet, Where were you? We all heard the fight disagreement earlier.
Remus watched as she poured a fluorescent green liquid into a cocktail glass and charged a lanky gentleman for it. He took it and swallowed in one gulp.
The B-E-A-C-H, Remus signed, wondering how, after all these years, they'd missed the sign for beach.
Emmeline nodded and, while her hands were free, asked, Can you call for last orders?
Grinning, Remus hoisted themselves to stand on the bar's edge. "Hey!" They screamed, allowing the suspense to grow as every eye sluggishly focused, "Last call! The bar will be closing in five minutes!"
Few people turned away, nor toward the bar. Remus lowered themselves back to ground-level. How was that?
Emme's hands were in use so she simply widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows, pouring yet another green concoction.
Grasping the lantern's handle, Remus rushed away, cackling. They left it in it's rightful place by the stable door.
Maria had already retired to bed, as Delilah told Remus. She trusted both the staff to be responsible and her patrons to be respectful. Thinking of the several dozen discarded bottles, Remus broke into a rather severe bout of laughter. Delilah said she better find her way back to the kitchen, offering to take Remus' shawl and hang it in the closest on her way.
Remus declined, instead offering to help with the washing up.
Delilah glanced at the grandfather clock, standing ominously in the shadows cast by the door. "No, no," She refused, "It's well past eleven. You should sleep. You're not even of age!"
"For what? To work?" Remus chuckled, "If that was an issue it would've been resolved years ago."
Delilah joined in their merriment with but a brief smile. She insisted, "Sleep, child."
She waved Remus off, chasing them across creaky floorboards all the way to the landing. From there Remus raced into their bedroom and slammed the door, grinning from ear to ear.
"Sleep!" Was her final call before Remus heard Delilah's descending footsteps. From there it was only the drunken shouts of local patrons, taking their leave, and the usual humdrum of the kitchen to be heard.
Remus turned to met merely a reflection. The full length mirror gifted oh so generously by Allie. They met their own gaze before letting it fall to their ruined skirt. Strangely, they felt a smile creep onto their lips.
The white gauzy fabric was crusted with golden sand, forming a strange stained shape. This was highlighted well by the unblemished state of the remaining fabric, freshly pressed and compiled.
Remus made a mental note to order new fabric on the next ferry. Katie hated whenever anything was destroyed needlessly, especially if such thing was made by her hand.
They shrugged and, leaving their reflection at their back for once, pulled their tank-top over their head. Remus balled it up and aimed for the laundry basket. Missing by a long margin, they strolled to pick it up. Tripping once over the hem of their skirt, resulting in their simply tugging and letting it pool at their ankles.
Both items of clothing eventually found their way into the basket and a threadbare nightgown eventually found itself draped across Remus' shoulders.
From there they slipped into bed, reaching for a book.
#editing this took a life time I swear to god#remus Kenning#maria Kenning#katie Thatcher#Emmeline [TBD]#my lovely ocs#icarus gang#writing#ocs#original characters#original writing#my writing#my ocs#my original characters#writer#author#writers on Tumblr#authors on Tumblr
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I just noticed this.... Max is indeed the Pac-Man (arcade machine behind her) and her mouth been covered in this scene:
Mustard/Pac-Man eats ketchup/red ghost when Blue meets Yellow (obviously via a mind connection).
"You were wearing that yellow benny's burgers t-shirt and it was so big it almost swallowed you whole.
There's a reason why Brenner uses the word "consume" bc it's all about consumption, in this case, consuming what is forbidden.
Think of "Ravenous" which is on the inspo board.
Max is like Henry (and wasn't consumed by V that was clearly shown on screen or better NOT shown on screen and "show" is at odds with "tell" - Brenner’s - mind absorption is an active thing nothing passive and people don't default back to V that was established.), she is another One (there are at least three Ones), a silver cat that consumes - that's the reason why Max has parallels/mirrors with Henry.
"The silver cat feeds..."
"When Blue meets Yellow in the west"
And the silver cat could be a fun nod towards Flerkens.
Just a little teaser:
I'll talk about the One in another post but everything you think you know....is not true. Not a lie. Just untrue.
#elmax#max mayfield#stranger things#el hopper#elmax nation#elmax my beloved#elmax supremacy#elmax is endgame#stranger things analysis
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toxin (Suakko Fanfiction) [M]
[toxin] - an antigenic poison or venom of plant or animal origin, especially one produced by or derived from microorganisms and causing disease when present at low concentration in the body.
A definition, which, Sucy knows well. It's why she doesn't have a heart, nor any sense for what compassion can bring. Although, one night changes things, and maybe—just maybe—Akko proves Sucy otherwise.
[10,216 Words] | [Last Edit: 6/4/2021] (Full One-Shot Post) !Mature Content! sucy and akko kiss. and then more.
Even ten years after the fact, Sucy still dreamt of the blood that streamed down her cheek. It was the closest she ever got to crying, to be honest. Sometimes, she heard the panicked shrill of her many, many other siblings once they stumbled upon the room—a room, which, reeked of potions and red iron. Stained pages. Toxin. And at the center of it all, Sucy just sat there, her hand hovering over her left eye in a moment of dull, hollow shock…
Tonight was one of those nights, where both the warmth of bloody tears and the panicked screams pulled her awake. Her seeing eye rolled open, and for a moment, Sucy watched the ceiling boards with a flickered, bitter frown.
Sucy sat up and tucked her knees close before she eyed the bunk across the dorm. Lotte was dead asleep, which was to be expected at the brink of midnight. Akko was still off with her nightly hours of practice, which was to be expected of Akko being…Akko. Sucy chewed the inside of her cheek before she begrudgingly slipped off her nightcap. She stalked towards her lab-coat—the one that hung on its hook, clean and new. Once it was shrugged on, Sucy flattened the crisp edges as she buttoned the coat, then pulled its belt around with a satisfying click!
She roamed back to her desk where a sizeable, moleskin notebook was then pulled out from its corner. A criminally threadbare thing, aged with scars and faded material. A journal that had been in Sucy's possession since the beginning of her poisonous, fungal obsessions. She languidly flipped through, careful of the brittle parchment, and skimmed through every recipe and note that were scrawled corner-to-corner. Sketches of abhorrent creatures. Descriptions of blood-curdling mixtures.
Ultimately, the journal was a cursed thing to the point that even Sucy wouldn't dare argue otherwise.
Her left eye stung at the mere truth of it, though she didn't flinch—not that Sucy ever did beforehand. Even in her childhood.
Minotaur Quantum. Cupid Poison. Triple-Beetle Antacid. Festering Potion...
All pages with grotesque imagery, cynical intent and immoral instructions. A cursed journal indeed.
Despite these pages serving Sucy as a mentor of sorts, it wasn't long until she flipped to the thirty-third potion: Slumbering Heart Toxin.
The same frown she awoke with flickered again, and Sucy brushed her fingertips along her left cheek. Dark, maroon blotches stained the parchment, and they painted the mangled anatomical heart at the center of the two pages whole. The ink practically glittered with red iron, shimmering as if the journal had digested the only tears Sucy ever bled. Because of that, through intuition, Sucy knew that the thing claimed her in a way. And through another way, a pit in her chest wanted for her to be unclaimed.
Her jaw tightened as she skimmed the lines of the page to a familiar rhythm—one that was followed each and every time she woke up to the toxin's effect:
To silence the passionate beat of the heart, and to restrain the scorn of ache and pining, brew the Slumbering Heart Toxin.
1 1/2 drops of Arthropod Toxin
3/4 tears of Mangled Citrus
4 shreds of Goat Hide
3 1/6 strings of Clathrus Ruber—
The entryway behind her barged open from the energy of an exhausted witch, who then leaned her back into the door with a strained grumble. Sucy didn't need to turn around to see the pastry crumbs around Akko's mouth, nor the wrapped bandages around her new scars; Sucy was well aware of Akko's habits and tendencies to know. Akko flopped stomach-first into her bunk, which didn't even stir Lotte who, too, was well aware of her shenanigans—to the point where she was well-adjusted in her sleep. After a minute of silence, Sucy heard a muffled, "I'm not in the mood to be a guinea pig, so no potions."
"Wasn't planning on it," Sucy murmured, dry, and she eyed the rack of ingredients along the wall. "You wasted the last cauldron anyway."
"Well you did because you actually expected me to drink that stuff," Akko retorted.
"You have before."
"I—" Sucy paused when Akko wrenched herself upright and snapped, "Wait, what?!"
Sucy felt the barest of smirks crawl to fruition, and she detached herself from the page, flipping to the next set of instructions. "A couple of times, actually." To Akko's grunt of annoyance, Sucy looked over her shoulder with her wide, fanged grin. Akko sulked from the end of her bed, criss-crossed, arms folded, with bandages coating her arms as a new layer of flesh. Once Sucy's seeing eye drifted back to her journal, another lapse of silence settled between them. Akko pushed herself off the bed with a few creaks, minded the second bunk as to not literally bump Lotte awake in the night, and she meandered to her dresser with quiet steps.
Acid of Jumping-Stock. Medusa's Petrifying Elixir. Riga-mortis Enhancement…
None of which was what Sucy wanted. In thought, she pulled a patch of charred fabric from a nook underneath the desk and rubbed. Nothing to please the pit in her chest and its one wish.
Nulled Wreaking Toxin. Purified Rat's Ven—
"Ow!" was quietly hissed, and Sucy turned to watch Akko at her dresser. Her red shorts had already been pulled on, leaving the witch to struggle with the button-up. And it was no wonder why: her back was coated with soiled bruises and jagged—though healed—lacerations. Instead of the mere fall or scrape, these were no doubt of magical origin. Nasty wounds by nature. Fickle in treatment. The kind that the alchemist worked to both inflict and heal. When Akko paused, Sucy retracted her lingering gaze and pulled herself back to the desk. Even in the moonlight, she could feel Akko's curiosity lurk across the room, settled on Sucy's lab-coat.
No words, of course, because it was hardly the first time this happened. Day or night, a conscious Lotte or not, Sucy had caught the way light shaped the back of Akko's torso—along her scars and evolving curves. And her long hair. And, for the briefest of seconds, the flat of her teammate's stomach. Throughout the past years, since the beginning. Day or night, an aware Lotte or not, Akko knew and let her watch because catching Sucy vulnerable was, by Jennifer, the equivalent of witnessing a snow leopard out of her cave. From the few semesters before, after the first (chaotic) summer schooling.
Sucy worked her jaw with another kind of frown—one more contemplative than bitter—, then tucked away the charred fabric. Wand-less, she flicked her wrist to light the lamp on the shelf, waking the spirit inside from its cumbersome nap. The room was suddenly bathed in a quiet, sage green. Her hand hesitated before she thumbed through the journal with one potion in mind:
Embalmed Reishi False-Toxin. Page seventy-two.
She ignored the dresser drawer when it was shut tight, as well as Akko's wandering steps around the bunk and across their oval rug. "I thought you just said no potions," Akko murmured.
Sucy's crimson, seeing eye flicked to the journal as she wordlessly reached for the dwindling stock she had left.
1 Ganoderma lingzhi mushroom head — embalmed & unruptured
1 drop of fermented (1+ yr) Cantharocybe oil
4 drops of Hashing Tox—
Another frown flickered, and Sucy internally growled. Hashing toxin antibiotics weren't something she just got her hands on; the half-vial Lukić slipped her was already a trunk of wealth. Both mushrooms were there, and the spell to quickly ferment the potion wasn't difficult by any means. So the hashing toxin antibiotics… Maybe Akko could just shrug it off. That, or—
A wheeze choked itself out of Akko after she tripped back into her bunk, and Sucy's attention lingered as the wounded witch deflated with a groan.
Sucy's left eye burned in retaliation to the compression of her chest. With another silent scowl, now reluctant, Sucy slipped on her gloves and reached for the ingredients. After another few minutes of silence, where Sucy's concentration stifled Akko's relentless curiosity, said curiosity foamed across the unspoken line of silence: "Is that your weird book?"
Goggles were pulled over, and Sucy watched the concoction as it began to curdle with life—the hashing toxin antibiotic festering with the bacteria of the Cantharocybe oil. Instead of answering, Sucy asked, "Were you practicing alchemy-resistance spells?"
"Oh, yeah," Akko murmured. "I passed out a couple of times, and after the last one I woke up to Chariot freaking out. Apparently I did kinda, uh, the opposite thing so I didn't block whatever's been growing out of the forest. That alchemic moss thing that's been spitting on everyone." The concoction sparked, and Sucy slipped the embalmed mushroom head in. "How d'you know that?"
"Your bruises," Sucy answered with a blunt edge. "They're almost green."
"Oh… Yeah…" Akko shifted back upright. "I guess I forgot to tell her about my back."
Once the vial's mixture turned a blackened purple—where in the light, only its rim was violet—, Sucy snatched her wand from the edge of the desk and extended it. She warned, "Light," nonchalantly and pointed the wordless spell to the vial.
"Wh—"
The burst of white light dazzled Akko from the bunk, and once the spell waned, Sucy opened her seeing eye and looked at the small droplet at the bottom of the vial. She swirled it rhythmically as Akko danced in the center of the room—having launched herself out from the bunk and covered her eyes. Akko squabbled a torrent of crude Japanese with a frenzied intensity.
Once she detached her hands from her face, she glared at Sucy and puffed her cheeks angrily. Akko's flared eyes watched Lotte for a moment before she hissed, "What-was-that?!" through gritted teeth.
Sucy raised the vial and pulled back her goggles, setting them on the desk. "Embalmed false-toxin. I used Cantharocybe gruberi for it."
"Cathanro— Whatever." Akko folded her arms in mild protest. "I'm still not drinking it 'cause I said I wasn't going to be your test subject."
"It's for those bruises. And whatever else you managed to do."
Akko eyed her, then the journal. "From that thing?" she grumbled, nodding to Sucy's side.
"Yes…?"
Akko squinted. "Since when did that have nice potions?" Sucy arched her brow. "Like healing stuff."
"It does have other uses, but it's a healing potion," Sucy assured, monotone. A wide smile then broke free, once again revealing her sharp teeth. "With a bite."
"Sucy!"
"It's only a drop," Sucy murmured, "so quit being a little bitch. You've had worse." After a thought, she added, "If anything, it'll probably sting less because you're growing immunity to this kind of stuff anyway."
Akko rocked her jaw, eyes still squinted. "…great." She glanced at the vial. "Just the drop?"
Sucy blinked. "Yes."
"…that little one?"
Her scowl finally surfaced, and Sucy deadpanned, "Do you want me to drink it myself? I still have burns from the last time you fucked up a potion of mine." Her eye narrowed. "And my last lab-coat."
Akko winced, and she fumbled a short, "Yeah…uh, sorry." Both waited while Lotte rolled in her sleep, burrowed deeper into her bedding. When Akko didn't add anything, Sucy exhaled a silent breath and meandered back to her desk, then slipped the vial in a slot of its wooden rack.
She flipped through the journal again, searching for a remedy. Something to treat the pit in her chest that had whittled and teased its way to life. And as she thumbed the patch of fabric underneath her desk—the chard sleeve of her old lab-coat—, Sucy felt the weight, that pit, thrum up her esophagus. The bitter frown returned, and the itch and sting of her left eye toyed at her. Sucy ignored Akko's attempt to pick the conversation back up; the catches of her voice only irritated the hollow bass of where Sucy's heart should've been.
And of course, Sucy mindlessly flipped back to those two pages. The two pages that, in her childhood, she hoped would've erased any temptation. Perhaps it did, in a way. It certainly strangled the life out of her thumping heart, leaving her to feel everything but the organ. And what, now there was room for someone to fill—?!
"Sucy…?"
Akko's gentle curiosity rattled the alchemist out of her thoughts, and she felt all of her thoracic cavity seize. Those endearing, rust eyes of Akko's shifted between Sucy and…
And the lab-coat's sleeve.
Sucy's jaw tightened, and she tucked it further into her lap, against her belt. "You…uh, kept it? …I thought you said that the lab-coat was—"
"I know," Sucy bit. Turned away, she raised her knuckles to her thinned lips, the sleeve was kept tight in her grasp. Sucy smelled the smoke of potion, and the detergent that Constanze used to clean it. She could even smell Akko's reoccurring stupidity—the strongest aroma of them all. Something jolted her chest to throb. Something that wasn't there, or its weight wasn't, but its impact against her organs and ribs and flesh still writhed with a passion.
"Sucy? What's on those pages?"
Sucy wanted to grate her teeth to dust and choke as she swallowed them down. "I used it since I was a kid, so it got stained."
The doubt that spawned off of Akko's skin reeked.
And she ignored it. Instead, Sucy muttered, "Do you want the stupid potion or not?"
"Um… I-I guess so," Akko said. "With a chaser?"
Sucy rolled her eye. "Since when do you need a chaser?"
"Well you've never asked!"
"Okay?"
Akko scowled, then relented. "At least something with it?" (Okay, somewhat relented.)
The hollow crater in her chest seized again, and Sucy growled, "What, like the little crumbs of doughnut that are still on your face?"
Sucy heard Akko sputter her irritation before she furiously wiped her mouth with her arm. "No! That wouldn't be enough!"
"Then what is?" Sucy retorted, her crimson eye sliced through rust.
Akko paused, watching Sucy carefully to the point that the alchemist actually thought she was going to say something smart. But no: "You're always such a bitch to me, Suc— Craugch!"
"Would you shut the fuck up?!" Sucy snapped, smacking Akko by the merciless edge of her hand. Akko, of course, was sent to the ground with the weight of an anvil. As she rubbed the the crook of her neck—the origin of her gag's eruption—, both watched the top bunk whilst Lotte restlessly wriggled in her sleep. At the end of Sucy's glare, Akko remained sheepish; it had been nearly a whole semester where Akko managed to keep her voice down, though apparently Sucy's firm hand needed a reintroduction.
Sucy rolled her eye and sat back down, having not realized she stood in the first place. The charred sleeve was roughly pocketed. She went back to flipping through pages, searching for an answer to that hollow ache—which, at that point, irked with irritation more than anything else. And, naturally, Akko got back up with a huff. Once she sat on the edge of the solitary bed, Sucy murmured, "I'll feed the potion to the plant you overwatered."
"Yeah right."
"Or I'll use it on myself for the burns," Sucy added, ignoring Akko's comment.
Akko snorted. "Yeah right. You're a masochist."
Sucy's frown tightened, and she retorted, "Old burns are irritating. I could give you some for you to know that yourself."
"You wouldn't." A brow raised, and Sucy flicked her glare back to Akko who was all-too confident. The witch shrugged, and she said, pointedly, "You've done everything but burn. So no, I know you wouldn't, Sucy—even if you are a bitch."
"Whatever." Sucy raised the potion for what had to be the last time—otherwise she swore she'd throw the fucking thing out, regardless of the rarity of its contents. "Do you want this or not?"
Akko folded her arms and pouted. "It's still going to hurt."
Going to… Sucy paused, and her chest lurched at the sound of those words. Her scowl was light this time around, and she said, "I told you before, you've built—"
"Everything from that stupid book hurts, Sucy!" Akko snapped instantly. Then, quiet, she added, "You masochist…"
"Okay?! So what?!" Sucy hissed.
Akko, rather smugly, shushed her and pointed to Lotte's bunk. Sucy's scowl deepened, and her firm hold around the vial grew tight. Lotte (unsurprisingly) remained asleep, which spoke more to how frequently the pair argued over Sucy's potions than her natural slumbering habits. Sucy rubbed her forehead with a sneer, and she grumbled, "I could just shove it up my ass and give myself an anal fissure…"
Without missing a beat, Akko reached with a matching sneer. "You're disgusting."
"You're the one who knows what that means," Sucy replied with a subtly entertained grin.
"I don't want to even imagine what you've done…"
Sucy shrugged and played with a dull shard of glass, which came from one of the vials Akko broke when she simultaneously torched Sucy, the cauldron, and the old lab-coat. "It's not that bad," she detailed, the corner of her lips quirking to another entertained smile. "It's actually really good at first, but then it gets annoying after you have to clean it up every day for a few weeks. Your asshole's easy to tear, and it doesn't heal that well when you're constantly shitting or putting objects up there." She turned to watch Akko from over her shoulder, and Akko was undeniably floored with repulsion. "Lucky for me," Sucy noted, "I've gotten to the point where I'd have to try to tear it."
"…you're…fucking…disgusting…" Akko hissed.
"Would you—"
"No!"
The force behind Akko's rejection startled a giggle from Sucy, one that she allowed to progress into a fanged laugh. She tittered from her desk, her eye glinting with grotesque mischief. Akko, meanwhile, was left to stammer with cheeks gradually melting into a fine red. When she couldn't find any words, Akko turned away. Sucy's laughter died down, and she kept her jaw firm; her laugh wasn't something to admire, given that her teeth usually warded people away.
Stupid Akko…
Another spell of silence.
Another few minutes of rifling through the journal, finding absolutely nothing—which was another given, since the journal wouldn't have any intentions of removing its claim. As if Sucy didn't know. As if the pit in her chest was expected to satisfy its desire.
Eventually, the springs in Sucy's bed-frame squeaked, and Akko meandered to the desk. "So…um, it would be quick, right? Since it's a drop…?"
Sucy didn't lift her attention from the journal. "It works over a day."
"No, I mean… Well, okay." Akko paused. "But I mean the pain. That— That doesn't last a day, right?"
"No. Usually just an hour or so—"
"…great."
"—but you probably wouldn't notice from your immunity." They watched each other. Sucy's gaze was indifferent whereas Akko's stare was skeptical. Sucy narrowed her eye. "What?"
Akko stewed for a second or two, then asked, "So what does it feel like, then?"
Sucy thought for a moment, since it had been a little while, and she said, "Like swallowing a knife down your throat." Akko's stare hardened. "Or just prickly."
"You just like pissing me off, don't you?"
"It's not like it's hard."
Akko's response was a testament to her grown maturity over the past couple of years: instead of blowing up and absolutely riling Lotte awake, she folded her arms, leaving only her brow to twitch. Speaking of, both watched Lotte as she continued to sleep like a baby, delightfully unaware of the pair's antics; the amount of stories that Akko and Sucy could share would be enough to molt the ginger's youth off by layers—starting with her hair. Sucy was the first to break away, so she took the opportunity to flip her middle finger. Akko took a double-take and snapped, "You bitch." (Maturity only went so far, after all—even if it was the last semester.)
Sucy snickered. "Easy…"
"Why do you have to be so antagonistic?" Akko muttered, sitting back on her bunk. "You're still the only one who's mean to me."
The crater in her chest itched with sudden resentment. If to stamp it away, or to spill it out—Sucy didn't rightly know which—, the alchemist glowered into her journal. "Oh who gave you that vocabulary lesson?"
"Uh, I don't know. Could be a bunch of girls," Akko started, testing the brinks of Sucy's acknowledged envy. "Maybe Diana—she's very good at her words, and she's very good at teaching me." Sucy bit the inside of her cheek, and her brows twitched. "Or Mary. She's very sweet you know. Oh, also Hannah and Barbara. They've been nicer to me too." The crater's itch didn't cease, and her glare continued to burn through the pages of the journal. "I guess Amanda too, but she's better at teaching how to move my body on a broom than book stuff—" Sucy wanted to snap something— "but Lotte is good with books, especially with all that Nightfall. She's told me a lot about those special scenes—"
"What. The. Fuck are you doing?!" Sucy seethed, lurching out of her chair with her fists tight and teeth bared—all in one motion. She swallowed her breath after having felt how cracked her words slid out. "Why the fuck are you bringing them up right now?! Nothing—"
"Lotte!"
Sucy brought herself to a terrifying halt, and without checking the top bunk, she hissed, dangerously low, "They have nothing to do with this potion, you idiot."
"Well you get like this whenever I don't spend enough time with you! Or when you're just fucking pissed at me because of whatever! Again—" Akko strangled the air— "sorry for blowing up your shit. I've apologized ten fucking times now! And you kept a piece of it anyway! I bought you your stupid new lab-coat, and I fucking apologized, so stopbeing a bitch!"
Sucy held herself by the upper arms, and she turned away from Akko with a tight, impersonal scowl. It was more directed internally than anyone in the room—at Luna Nova, even. She hated the way the void in her chest shivered, pathetically scorned by her words. And she hated that she knew what pathetic scorn felt like. If Sucy was any other witch, there was no doubt in her mind that she'd be in tears by this point; it was a gut feeling, supported by the many, many times she watched Akko break down over the academy's drama.
A sigh left the bottom bunk when Akko scratched the back of her neck, and she muttered, "I'm not interested in them, okay? I've told you. I'm not. They're all just friends, Sucy."
There wasn't a response. Sucy didn't look her way, either.
"…Sucy?"
The alchemist paused, and she mustered a quiet, brewed murmur: "What…?"
When Sucy did turn around, Akko was watching the journal with her own spit of resentment. "You don't know what joy feels like, do you? Just pain?"
Another scowl contorted itself, and Sucy asked, "What kind of question is that?"
"Well do you?!" Akko snapped. "Because you sure don't know what it looks like when I actually like someone."
Her thoracic cavity twisted once again. It wasn't like Sucy actually had to answer. Akko already knew all about how Sucy was left to her own devices as a child—and that her parents preferred making children rather than raising them. A story that her whole village knew—especially the condo with its thin walls—but did nothing about. Sucy scoffed. "Why would you care…?"
"Beca— Because it's you I want, you idiot! You even know that!" Akko retorted. "And you know I hate that stupid book! That's your blood on it, isn't it?!"
"So what?!" Sucy fumed.
Akko rocked her jaw, then snapped it shut. She watched Sucy for a long moment. "I still don't trust that potion."
She almost forgot about that damn thing. She almost forgot about Akko's wounds. "I made it…" Sucy muttered crossly, "to heal your bruises…"
"I know. I trust you—" the alchemist froze— "but that book is a different story."
"What do you want?"
"I want to take it together." The room plunged into a remarkably subdued tension. The glow of the lantern and its spirit still sculpted the shadows with sage green, highlighting Sucy's outline. Akko swallowed, and she murmured, "I'm not interested in anybody else but you, Sucy. And I'm better than that weird book. So kiss me. I want you to forget about everybody else and the anti-toxin and kiss. Me."
A rare, startled brow flickered, and Sucy upon a gut instinct corrected Akko through a mumble: "False-toxin."
"I don't care."
"I know." Sucy paused, and her grip around her arms tightened. She…wanted this, didn't she? She wanted to accept this offer, right? The alchemist frowned. "How? Just spit in your mouth?"
Akko rolled her eyes. "An actual kiss, Sucy. Like…I-I want this to be real. Not just something to fight over all the time without…" She shrunk, and something about how small Akko appeared on her bed budged Sucy's irritation away. "If we're going to fight, I just…um, I want there to be something we're actually fighting about, not just…beating around the bush…"
The tips of Sucy's fingers reached her lips in thought. Akko— To have Akko actually… Her seeing eye flicked to the witch, and her thoughts dwelled.
Just do it…
Sucy exhaled quietly, and she muttered, "Fine."
Akko blinked. "R-Really?"
"Yes! What, were you just bullshitting?!" Sucy hissed.
"N-No!"
"Then—" Sucy scowled. She turned her back to the bunk and began to loot through her instruments. "Just wait there…idiot."
"…bitch." Akko, though, waited as told.
With the vial in her hand, Sucy hesitated when she reached for her wand, which had slipped into one of the open drawers. She was abruptly queasy. Terse, Sucy stamped it down and snatched her wand. With its tip, a sphered glow collected the potion from the bottom of the vial. It was painted on with care, and the false-toxin burned with a sickening chill. Her eye caught her reflection in one of Lotte's mirrors beside her lab equipment; in it, the black coat of her lips was seared by lines of sage green from the lantern, and over her shoulder there was Akko, watching her hands that rested on her lap. Sucy narrowed her eye. What was she doing standing at her desk? Was she actually trying to look pretty for once? Really?! Like she would ever in her lab-coat—regardless of how crisp and new it was. Or anything she wore, frankly.
Sucy turned away from the mirror and eyed the bunk. Akko raised her attention, and she looked doubly squeamish as color rose to her cheeks. Before Akko could fumble a word out, Sucy warned, "Don't. I just told you to wait."
"O-Okay, right…" Akko did, however, fumble a squeak when Sucy crawled onto her lap wordlessly, a hand sliding up to the pulse-point of Akko's wrist. "U-Um… Okay, u-uh, we're— Fuck."
"I can still spit it in and we'll be done with it," Sucy threatened.
Akko shook her head vehemently. "No! I'm just… Um, well, I didn't really know what our first—"
"Would you shut up?!" Sucy breathed. "We don't have all night, and you need to be quiet."
Akko squinted, and Sucy knew her thoughts jolted to the top bunk. "We could do it on your bed…?"
"Would you rather have her see and hear us or just hear us?"
"…outside?"
Sucy scoffed. "You pissed off all of the fairies here, so no, they wouldn't let you get away with anything."
"Ah, right…" Akko bit her lip nervously. "I… Okay." She inhaled, and as another passing second lingered, Sucy felt a layer of confidence shield Akko. It was a quirk of hers that the alchemist watched with every obstacle, and dammit, she couldn't help but admit that she actually admired the quirk. "O-Okay."
Sucy hesitated for a split second more and sighed. Another queasy itch quivered, and she knew if they didn't just do italready, it wouldn't happen. "Now you better not waste this," Sucy muttered, her lips still scalding against the false-toxin's chill.
Akko swallowed and nodded. Then waited. For her.
The temptation to lick her lips nearly rendered this whole thing useless, though Sucy wasn't sure if she'd let this opportunity pass either way. The opportunity to experiment with Akko, or was it find what she stole from herself? Orwas it a confusing mass of both?
Regardless, Sucy inhaled the temptation down before she leaned in, her thumb digging into the pulse of Akko's wrist. Upon contact, Akko flinched against the malicious burn of the potion through a whine. But, even with her few winces against the cuts of pain, Akko still complied. And as she complied, Sucy continued to mold the potion into Akko where sprites of satisfaction escaped her. She was, most definitely, enjoying this more than she anticipated. To the point where, when the weight of their kiss ushered them against Akko's sheets, a deep, sickly jolt speared Sucy down her spine. It deafened her thoracic cavity before melding within her groin. The last of the potion's bite faded layer-by-layer, though it didn't manifest an end to this sudden intimacy.
No. Rather, Sucy felt herself become enveloped by Akko's ferocity. A ferocity, that, she didn't expect from the witch; for a hyper-active student who had discipline as the bane of her existence, the sudden focus was deliriously overwhelming. Perhaps the near witching hour had something to do with it, though Sucy sought to blame Akko's tendency to indulge more so.
Still, it wasn't like she was going to stop this. The crater within her chest—the void pounding against her lungs and diaphragm—was consuming her to a ceaseless extent. A profound, violent extent.
It was a decree, then, that drove her voice to thrum against Akko. A careful hand found its way along her jaw, and a brief moment of hesitation was birthed before Akko braved her sharp teeth in a deep, open-mouthed kiss, ripe with blistering hunger. The trail of organs inside Sucy strangled themselves. So, she palmed Akko's naval, and her long fingers danced up the witch's stomach as she thought back to the glimpses of Akko's body—the same ones she stole. And, wouldn't she know, Akko's stomach felt the same as she thought it would: warm, soft, though oddly solid.
The buttons of her lab-coat began to pop, conducted by Akko's teasing hand. With each button, the empty crater within Sucy's chest rattled into her lungs. Her nails drew lines from underneath Akko's white shirt, and when the belt sagged her lab-coat down her arms, Sucy shed it off—an extra layer of hide. Possessed by the fluidity of a cold serpent, she ignored the thunk! of the buckle and muffled sprawl of cloth against the hardwood floor. Sucy felt intoxicated by a similar high—that to the likes of those long hours hovering over her potions. Only, this wasn't a potion. Not something she could control. Instead, this— It had to have been a bewitchment, the way Akko was the one to shepherd this—whatever this was—and have Sucy's arousal convulse the way it did.
Stupid… How did I let this moron do this…?
The pair parted with heavy breaths, and as Akko leaned upright with her knuckles hitched around the rim of her shirt, the red of their eyes never left one another. Sucy's crimson eye darkened at the sight of Akko's burning, wicked rust. The shirt was tossed to the side, and before Sucy could see where it landed, lips were stitched back to her own. She couldn't help it, the curious hum that reverberated through the cavities of her body. Sucy arched with the clutch that followed the lines of her back, and she sifted her hands through long, brunette hair to guide their kiss further. Maybe she was too busy coating Akko's lips and tongue with the embalmed potion to notice her bout of excitement. Nevertheless, Sucy felt their weight sway before she laid backwards to Akko's pillow, kiss broken.
Against the pillow, Sucy was pinned by a hand wrapped around her throat, which, naturally, was to her arousal's benefit. Akko watched her, somewhat light-headed, with her bangs freed. They had grown over the years, though still lacked the…desirable style that was usually appropriate. Knowing Akko, it was by choice. Not that Sucy could complain because, again, it was a benefit of a particular sort. Sucy flexed her hand against the pillow, and she was quick to realize that she had taken the hair-tie after all; it rolled to her wrist as she watched Akko with intrigue.
The intrigue was swiftly rattled by alarm. Akko took no notice, of course, so when she paused, Sucy knew there was a comment conjuring inside that thick skull of hers. Before a word could slip, Sucy grabbed Akko by the mouth, her fingers dug on either side—into her cheeks. Crimson narrowed as a warning, and Akko listened to the springs above them chirr.
Her eyes, though, didn't leave Sucy.
Within the moment whilst Lotte shifted alongside her dreams—whatever they were—, the tension between the pair curdled into a sludge of yearned curiosity. The broth of intent began to swim with a deeper, visceral sort of temptation. And, in her way, Sucy sought to experiment with that line. Paw at it before they crossed that barrier. Her thumb rubbed Akko's cheek—along the line of where teeth were on the other side—before she slicked it into her mouth. Akko still watched her, brows flicked with suspicion, while Sucy's drawled experiment rummaged through the moist cavern.
And it churned, her gut. Sucy pricked the fingertip off of a bottom canine, then smoothed it alongside Akko's tongue. Baiting the witch.
Crimson sharpened with a commanding desire. Bite it.
Akko hesitated once a snore escaped Lotte overhead. Then, tentatively, she teethed Sucy's thumb on either side. But nothing more. Sucy's coo was a mixture of irritation and lust; she knew how easy it was to bite through a finger—even without her particular characteristic. All she wanted, though, was a mark. A sign that Akko could.
But. No.
Instead of a wolf, it appeared to be a doe that held her against the bunk, the hand around her neck now teasing the buttons of her nightgown open. When the crisp air of the room clipped more of her chest, Sucy narrowed her gaze and forced her thumb further in, gliding along Akko's tongue. Instantly, Akko gagged, and she jerked away with a choke.
"Sucy!"
A smirk crept, and Sucy reeled Akko back to her with a hand along her chin. "Your gag reflex needs work…" she murmured.
"W-Why…?" Akko hissed, only for her eyes to widen. She huffed and added, "Actually, don't tell me."
Sucy hummed, very entertained with herself. "Why not? You always stick your nose into everything anyway."
"Because I don't want to think of that right now."
Her scowl resurfaced. "You don't want to think of sex right now…?"
"Well, um… I mean, u-uh…" Even in the shadows, away from the sage green of her lamp, Sucy saw color embellish itself across Akko's cheeks. "I-I mean, like, err— Do you— Do you want to have—"
"Clearly, Akko, I do," Sucy scoffed. "Now quit being stupid and explain what you mean by 'that?!'"
"But what if the professors—"
Sucy rolled her eyes. "Really…? Akko, we're of age so quit with the stupid. They won't care. And it's not like we'd have a worse detention than before."
Akko blinked, and her stupid (for now, at least) was stashed away. "Oh, right…"
"Now quit stalling and explain."
Her hand left Sucy's chest to scratch the back of her neck. "I just— I don't want to feel like an experiment. Not, not this time, I mean…" she whispered. After another second, Akko added, "And you can do whatever to me later. I— Just tonight, please. I told you I want this to be, um…real." Sucy didn't answer. Her silence dismayed the witch, at least before she noticed Sucy's surprise. Akko's notorious face of confusion pulled itself together, and she breathed, "…Sucy?"
The crimson in her eye was swelled with something neither recognized. However, when Sucy replied in a quiet whisper, both knew it was her own shape of confusion: "What do you want from me…?"
Akko swallowed, and she enveloped her arms around Sucy in a heartfelt embrace. "A chance?" she asked."Please?"
An itch of guilt. Right in her chest. Spurring the empty weight to quiver. Why was Akko begging? This wasn't an experiment. It— It wasn't. Sucy blinked, and again she couldn't answer. So, rather cautiously, Akko pecked her lips. Once. Then twice when Sucy responded in kind. A third, fourth and fifth. Again and again until the kisses weren't so much pecks but instead long, intimate locks where they explored one another. Sucy's nausea returned, burrowing into her gut as desire plagued more layers of her body. She really, really did want Akko, didn't she? In the same way—outside the cynical touch of experiments and faux intimidation. Already, she found things to love about Akko in this way. How the witch worked around her teeth. How their bodies pieced together so naturally. It— It scared her, to be honest. But she couldn't shy away. A piece of her kept her tethered.
Minutes passed, and their bodies were revved by arousal. Their kiss broke, and Sucy watched the rust of eyes without a word. Akko's frown was that of concentration. That patter of tension that drummed Sucy hindered the alchemist's thoughts for a moment, so when Akko—within that moment—kissed the sweet spot along her neck, Sucy was taken aback by the gentle affection. Her arms wrapped around Akko by her shoulders, and her nails pricked skin as the warmhearted pecks continued. Sucy didn't even realize she had a sweet spot, nor that her body would just coil around whatever warmth this was. It confused her. It deterred her very doctrine.
This wasn't right.
If neither of her parents cared to hold Sucy close, to even give her a speck of attachment, then nobody had the right to be this soft and careful. Yet Akko had the gall to guide Sucy's legs, hands running up her limber thighs, and have them hook around her waist. Yet Sucy had the nerve to feel a quiet mewl spawn—one that she forced down with a hissed inhale—once Akko began to grind their hips together.
The backdrop to her irk, however, continued to drone. Desire, as it were. It had her legs tense around Akko, keeping the witch right where she was, and it had her body move with the slow, drawled pace that ever-so-gently swayed the bunk. It was a rhythm that lulled her, really, and played into her creeping hunger.
By the time she felt her nightgown stick to her skin, and her underwear warm against the friction, their breaths had no mind to whether or not Lotte would notice; she probably dreamt of steamy Nightfall scenes anyhow, they concluded, so it wouldn't make a difference if their tones snuck their way in. By the time the mattress was no longer chilled against her back, Sucy felt Akko's whisper crawl into her skin: "Sucy…"
She felt a jolt of irritability race a bout of adoration. No. No, stupid. Sucy felt along the rim of Akko's bra, and she hissed, "Idiot."
Sucy's warped sense of time made it difficult to know whether or not Akko had hesitated, or if she snapped without missing a beat: "Bitch…"
But it mattered not.
Akko's tone, still, was consumed by an affection that swamped the bare-minimum of what her parents should'veprovided. In that bed, Sucy heard the discarded memories of her childhood. "[Little rat, go to the market for our dinner,]" her father routinely to barked, being that Sucy was one of the older from his herd of children. As for her mother, it was always the same: if Sucy got in the way, knock her flat without a word, as if she was a cow to shepherd. So, no matter how obscene Akko's insults were, how offensive, Sucy felt a layer of decency. A decency, which, was rooted from the desire to mount Sucy in her bunk, and hold her tight, and kiss her soft—all things that, really, weren't decent.
Nails scraped the bruised flesh underneath Akko's bra, and Sucy gnawed tender skin.
She had no right. She had no fucking right treating Sucy like this. Treating Sucy better than her own parents—or life benefactors, though she didn't know the difference, did she? A tight, low groan slithered against Sucy from the base of Akko's throat, and another thing eroded Sucy's indifference.
Antagonistic…
Diana. Mary. Hannah and Barbara. Amanda. Lotte…
Why Sucy?! Out of all of them, for what fucking purpose was there to kiss Sucy?! To admit her feelings months ago?! Even if begrudgingly, to go right along with her experiments?!
Nothing.
There was no good reason. If her parents never cared for her out of the horde of children they birthed, Akko had no fucking right to choose her.
This was the reason why she took the journal from her mother's collection. This was exactly why she poured her attention into it, and why she stumbled upon her first toxin to brew.
To silence the passionate beat of the heart, and to restrain the scorn of ache and pining...
Get rid of it. Get rid of it all was the only thing that Sucy wished for. If her parents didn't bother, and if her siblings never knew, she could just throw it away and be left in her own sense of peace.
Brew the Slumbering Heart Toxin.
A peace without any more heartache. A peace without a morsel of the convulsing confoundment that affection inevitably invited.
One and a half drops of arthropod toxin. Three-quarters of a tear from a mangled citrus. Four shreds of goat hide. Three and one-sixth strings of Clathrus ruber…
So simple. Every ingredient was there for her to take—all of the worst of toxic substances were in her house, right there for a child to snatch. A child like Sucy, who only snapped and bit and stole for attention without a tear to cry.
Then there was the final ingredient—a condition for such an act: flesh to scar. Something that would be chosen by the toxin itself.
And for Sucy, it was her bleeding eye…
The damned potion worked, too. After the potion, she never cared about parental attention. She never cared about sibling affection. She could be alone, and content, and busied by her experiments. That was her vow, to which she remained loyal to.
None of that mattered in the present, though. Not as Akko's care persisted, the soothing yet lustful roll of her hips bent on siphoning pleasure from the alchemist. Not as it was working directly against her vow with vigor. Working against that loyalty.
It irritated Sucy to no end how another quiet mewl escaped her, rooting itself deep into Akko's collarbone—a planted seed where her teeth, like trowels, dug into warm fleshy soil. And for the life of her, she couldn't restrain the cracked, gentle cry that broke through those same teeth: "Akko…"
"Sucy," Akko murmured, just as quiet and intimate. Instead of returning a bite, serving an eye for an eye, Akko kissed Sucy's neck tenderly. And? Sucy's resentment was speared by compassion, and through her disorganized drove of emotion, she felt her nails claw new lines along Akko's back. Akko groaned, unperturbed by the top bunk. She panted against the new kiss-mark, which had left a subtle stain of black against Sucy's pale skin. The potion muddled its way into recognition, and so Akko dipped back and licked the spot—yet another soft gesture against Sucy's talons and fangs. Neither felt the burn of the false-toxin by that point, and neither knew if it was due to immunity or distraction.
Yet another thing that didn't matter.
A moan trickled up Sucy's throat once a surge of pleasure swamped her groin, taking the shape of tendrils moving to Akko's pace. She swallowed it, jaw tense. Though they continued to writhe, those tendrils, asserting their will for her to let the pleasure slip. Reluctantly, Sucy did. She breathed, "Akko…"
Muffled, Akko asked, "Eh?"
Sucy didn't have a verbal answer. She only teethed the crook of Akko's neck and closed her eyes to the rhythmic, languid grind of their hips. A gradual leak of panic began to bubble up her throat. It spoke to her timid unease of whatever this was summoning. A dead weight. Inside her chest, there had to be a dead weight that this—that whatever Akko was doing to her—was invoking to resurrect. Teeth gnawed before they sunk again, deep into muscle where Sucy felt the tremble of Akko's pained mewl.
"…bitch," Akko half-hissed, half-groaned.
A weak laugh hummed into the bite mark as Sucy pursed her lips against it. "I kissed it better, idiot," she murmured, dry. Another peck. "Both of them."
"You're never going to warn me, are you?"
With a curled lip, Sucy said, "No." She felt along Akko's back, following the paths of bruising with pressure. Akko offered another grimace, her tone stifled by the dull aches. Sucy nibbled her neck again, then, abruptly, snapped, "Now get off."
"Wh—" Akko scrambled onto her back once a hand at the base of her throat forced her so. The bunk rocked with her sudden shift of weight, and she snapped a hushed, "Sucy!"
"We're fine," Sucy grumbled, raising from the pillow, "so quit crying. She's not going to wake up until her alarm at this point."
Akko chewed the inside of her cheek as Sucy crawled forward, forcing her legs apart. "…I'm not crying." Sucy only hummed, her fingertips dancing along Akko's thighs. She popped the button of Akko's red shorts, and as the hip squares were folded away, Sucy found— "Don't talk about those."
Sucy smiled, and she teased the hem of the cotton, bunny-patterned fabric of underwear. As she pawed the border of skin and undergarment, Sucy murmured, "Lucky for you, I don't care."
Her pecks across Akko's naval were ignored: "Well why-y—?!"
Akko shivered as Sucy trailed her tongue from the hilt of her stomach to her sternum. When Sucy raised her head, she hissed, "What is it going to take for you to shut up?" She found confusion and quickly suspected Akko's bafflement to voice itself. The gears behind rust eyes were working hard, and her mouth opened before any formed thought could slip out. With a sigh, as to halt whatever stupid was coming, Sucy tilted Akko's jaw. "Don't answer that." Her kiss muffled Akko's stupid, and sure enough, it was enough to silence the rambling. Hands wandered. Teeth occasionally nipped. Breaths would crawl into their ears.
Neither knew when this would stop. Though, then again, neither knew when to stop their arguments or banter to begin with. It usually ended whenever Sucy won and worked her potion down Akko's throat, or when Akko had worn her dry to the point where sleep was a better option.
But…this? The potion was already gone. Swallowed away. Even if it would take a full twenty-four hours to work its charm, it was done with. So perhaps they were working towards the latter—where they both were on the way to exhaustion.
Perhaps.
Maybe.
Sucy didn't know. All she knew was that Akko felt soft and warm, and her touch was more so. Something about it lurked deep in Sucy's groin, and no amount of teething satisfied it. Whatever it was, it beckoned her away from her nature. It was alien. Wrong. It should've felt wrong, yet every time Akko's fingertips ran along her back in delicate, curious strokes, Sucy couldn't help but feel like she was melting. Why…? Why and how was it that Akko of all people did this? And what right did Sucy have to find it gratifying?
Abruptly, she pushed Akko away again at the thought of it all. The void within her, it was hammering behind her ears. A scrap of her just wanted this thing to end already, though with Akko watching her, startled, Sucy was consumed by a desire to continue. And it was strong. And it was persuasive.
Sucy straddled Akko across her naval, breaths slinked out of her through the bite of her sharp teeth. Despite her unease of the weight that thundered against her ribcage, Sucy still allowed herself to ravage the carnal sight of Akko's upper-body. The crimson in her eye fermented with libido, and the heat of her skin prickled against the sweat that knotted into her loose nightgown. She planted her hands against Akko's stomach where her thumb dug into a bruise that the false-toxin was at work to heal.
Akko's accent was thick and irritable when she snapped, "Masochist!"
"It's sadist, you idiot," Sucy purred. As a way to solidify her point, Sucy ran her nail along the point of Akko's hip, splitting a bruise with a thin, red line. Akko, without missing a beat, hissed air in retaliation.
Through a softened wince, she grumbled, "You ever touch soft?"
Sucy arched a brow. She swore Akko slipped a few syllabus of Japanese. With a sly hum, Sucy quipped, "Ikay ay bobo."
Akko's eyes flared as another smirk crawled across Sucy's lips. She'd heard it enough times to know what Sucy said—especially since it was usually accompanied by a crude finger. "Bitchi."
To her retort, Sucy felt a snap of air shiver. Her gut prickled, and her back swelled with heat. She frowned, then fixed a quiet grin. "Pero kaya kong subukan…" Sucy murmured, after a long second of thought. Akko blinked, puzzled, and watched her with great suspicion. Once the witch tensed in anticipation, ready for whatever tooth or nail that would—surely—impale her, Sucy hummed to mildly torment.
However, the hand that slid away from Akko's torso was gentle. Sucy cupped the warmth between Akko's legs tenderly, and she felt her own core pulse at the mere touch of Akko's body through her layers. Akko's breath gyrated into a quiet moan as Sucy continued to rub, having not anticipated this. And even though the two decidedly kept the noises as they were—low yet audibly prurient—, Akko bit the length of her thumb to keep her pleasantly-alarmed surprise down. It only grew more difficult to stifle her excitement once Sucy paused to slip her hand underneath those layers.
Akko's quiet gasp startled Sucy—not enough to halt her ministrations, though it quivered the space in her chest nonetheless. She… She admired it, the sound of Akko's voice like this. So quiet and intimate. For once, not a lick of Sucy wanted to inflict pain—or experiment, really—on Akko. The drumming of her chest was no longer something she could just ignore or push away. It rattled her to the bone-marrow. Yet she didn't stop, no. Sucy wanted to know what Akko would do while she pumped her fingers in, as careful as she could muster. Sucy did, however, realize that there was still a firm, cynical edge to her touch. But dammit she was trying. Trying to sedate her urge to bite and scratch as Akko's heat lathered her fingers from the inside—the inside, which, was scalding and wet and swollen with desire. Trying to erase the forsaken throbbing of her chest, and she took her fucking, emotional-queasy heart out a decade ago, so why the hell could she still feel it gnaw into her lungs?!
She was nauseous from how desperately hungry she was. Again, Sucy wanted to lick, and bite, and eat, and scratch and scar and bruise… But Akko's building tone and the weight of her eyes convinced her otherwise. There was still a part of her—which the cursed journal never claimed—that wanted this moment to drag on. A part of Sucy that dwelled in her chest wanted to watch Akko, perfect even with all of her scars and bruises, unravel at her gentle touch.
So when it got to be overwhelming, when there was a lapse of hesitation, Sucy felt Akko grasp her wrist and plant her hand further against herself. The heel of Sucy's palm rubbed against Akko's sensitive point, and long fingers curled inside the witch. "Please," Akko whispered. "Please don't just stop." Sucy swallowed, captured by the yearning rust of Akko's eyes. "Please, don't."
For a split moment, Sucy was dumbfounded. Her natural sense of composure fizzled with meager surety, and Sucy yet again felt her thoracic cavity quake. "Why…?" was the only thing to slip out.
"Because I want this from you, so please quit being mean," Akko breathed, her eyes tainted by a film of glass. "Please. I-I don't want you to be mean right now."
Mean…? Sucy barely nodded as she resumed, still struck by how much she liked feeling this part of Akko's body. How her fingers slicked in and out of her. It was far more gratifying than their shared journey inside Vajarois. For one, she could get off without being drenched by Akko. Although, her sensual gratification was distracted by her thoughts: Mean…? Mean?! Couldn't Akko feel the tremble of Sucy's hand? The one that remained firm on her hip, which Akko was holding onto at the wrist?
So how could Sucy be the mean one when she's absolutely terrified?
Or maybe that was it. She was mean because she was terrified of this. Of— Of going directly against what she vowed when she brewed the Slumbering Heart Toxin. And it was still asleep, Sucy's heart. But, come to find, a slumbering heart could still have dreams, and night terrors, and visits in the wake of slumber. It could still thrash in its bed, pulsing and throbbing against the lungs and ribs—the nightstands and mattress. Kick her diaphragm. Twist into her flesh.
Sucy breathed heavily with Akko's deepened moans, and she felt Akko's maw of desire tighten around her fingers, keeping Sucy to continue her gentle though eager volume of pressure. She drew out layers and layers of Akko's heat into her hand, which ultimately overflowed from the pace she kept. Knots grew to boil in her chest before they lynched their way down Sucy's spine and into the pit of her groin. Longing teethed Sucy's sternum, and as she watched Akko's body move with her breaths, that pit in her groin melted into a vat of desperate arousal. Be it in her nature, Sucy didn't want Akko to be gentle with her, though she still wanted to curl under Akko's tender hands. It wasn't a desire that she could read or hear in her thoughts, however, but rather something she knew from the coagulated static of her coherence. It didn't matter how…this started. Not anymore, if it did to begin with anyway. It didn't matter, though, because all Sucy wanted was to wake up sore, and to wake up knowing she'd left her mark on Akko. And to know that, somehow, she could be gentle…
At the mere thought, Sucy felt the thumping, empty weight in her chest rocket viciously to the base of her throat. A knot was left, one that she nearly choked on while Akko groaned from the base of her gut. Sucy's free hand—the one on Akko's hip—snaked to the witch's throbbing sternum as she continued to work Akko over the edge. And when she did, Sucy felt the pounding of Akko's heart skip a beat. She felt Akko tense and arch into the spry leak of euphoria, the one that Sucy had so tenderly gifted her.
And…
Oh God.
Sucy found something invaluable, just underneath the skin of her hand. Infinitely more revered than the rare ingredients of her potions. She felt it. Through Akko's flesh and bone, Sucy could feel the pulse of her heart, which was awake and loud and erratic with passion.
The depths of the crater within Sucy's chest contorted. Joy and envy writhed in a confusing, mangled ball, and as Sucy pulled out her hand from Akko's shorts to leave it strangling the sheets, she kept her other hand against Akko's chest. Its rhythm continued to plummet through Sucy who, inside her own, felt the ache of a heart. Her heart was like the thunder without lightning, or the rupture of land without the chaotic seizure that rocked everything else. Even with her sleeping heart, she felt it all.
Her eyes burned, and she wanted to torch Akko with blame—for being the emotional idiot underneath her, wear prickled tears and heavy breaths as she rode her high. This stupid, emotional moron did this, and now dark drops of blood rained onto her skin.
The tears that Sucy bled to life.
For the second time, Sucy felt blood stream down her cheek, but instead of the pages of her journal, they fell to stain another person. The same kind of person she wanted to remove from her life before they got the chance; the same type that just cried and laughed and exploded with the incessant feelings that spawned from the center of their chest. She bared her teeth as her seeing eye watered, and so her salty tears joined red iron. Sucy watched as they diluted the blood along Akko's complexion.
When a careful hand caressed her cheek, underneath her draped, mauve bangs that were gradually sodden by red, Sucy winced against its compassion. Akko leaned forward and rested against her elbow, her other hand kept to Sucy's jawline. After a moment, she tentatively pulled away a lock of hair, and Sucy nearly recoiled out of her grasp—out of it completely. All to hide away her blind eye—the one so foul in her reflections; the one, that, was warbled with crimson and clouded white, her pupil and iris shredded without a coherent shape. However, rust eyes kept her grounded. Akko's growing smile and tears burned Sucy further, and she wanted to bite Akko's stupid grin off for it.
"Quit looking at me," Sucy snarled, her longing for comfort anxiously hostile.
"But you're really beautiful," Akko breathed. The innocence of her proclamation forced the words in Sucy's throat to impale her vocal cords. She nearly suffocated as she shook her head, and Akko nodded in earnest. "Yes. It's not an argument," she murmured.
And to the feel of Akko's kiss, laced with the remnants of false-toxin and fresh layer of blood, Sucy believed her. She believed every word.
Once the kiss broke, Sucy simply collapsed into Akko. She clawed Akko close, and as tears—bloody or not—dripped down her shoulder, Akko held her with eyes to the dying lamplight of the room. In a hum, she murmured, "That book is stupid, you know…"
Sucy, she couldn't argue with that. She was only able to nod wordlessly, completely enveloped by Akko's embrace.
Δ ∇ Δ
Gentle, warm tones of sun rained across the lecture hall, splintering into the cold planks of wood. The students lazed through their notes, and the bubbles Professor Pisces spoke were languid.
A quiet, calm morning.
It bore resemblance to those after a natural disaster where up-rooted plants would glimmer with dew underneath the sunrise, and where water would stream quietly alongside the fresh devastation of the night prior. Lotte's occasional glances towards the pair were the cautious onlookers that ventured the scene; to no surprise, of course, seeing as she awoke to a quiet Akko and Sucy where moments lingered and tension trailed behind them. She'd yet to ask what, exactly, the disaster was, and why it left the two remarkably wordless that morning.
Sucy, however, thought the disaster to be one alike a flood, or a mountain slide, where brewing chemistry broke the surface and left the old to slough away.
Her seeing eye dropped from her notes to the hand that clasped with her own, underneath the desk and on the bench. Akko didn't look at her, and she remained sly and irritatingly smug. Though, her complacency was endemic: Sucy trailed her eye along the rings and lines of teeth marks that haunted the skin of Akko's neck, and she couldn't help but allow a fanged smirk to flicker. Somewhat begrudgingly, she returned Akko's gesture with a light squeeze of her fingers.
And she slipped her unfocused attention back to the blackboard and day-dreamed. She dreamt of her blood on Akko's skin, and the intimate, quiet tones of Akko's voice that followed…
Sucy dreamt of the second time where she bled tears, and the first time she cried to her heart's content. I definitely remember writing this one, and as usual, I intend for one thing, then it goes on to be far, far more explicit than necessary. Which doesn't always mean smut, so um. Yeah, Sucy gonna cry blood. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! It's nice for me to revisit some of these older fics. :)
#volt's library#lwa#little witch academia#fanfiction#suakko#ao3#wattpad#one-shot#smut#atsuko kagari#akko kagari#sucy manbavaran#lotte jansson (kinda but not really)#angst#hurt/comfort#blood#there is blood
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danteragnulf:
It was a quiet night in, Kayce was out somewhere and while Dante had tried to write, or draw, or do something… His mind was kind of all over the place. So, the lycan had taken to throwing a rubber ball against the wall as he sat in his bed. Repeating the motion each time the red ball bounced back, maybe it was a cliche - a dog playing with a ball but it was more a way to keep his mind idle as he threw the ball against the floor, watched it bounce against the wall before it returned to his hand. He could go out, maybe go to All Fours for a drink, check out the Embassy - get lucky, hangout at the park. Busk somewhere to try and scrape together the scratch for a plane ticket. Truth was he didn’t want to do any of those things. Dante slumped back onto his bed, arms folded behind his head as he sighed. Wonder if he’s okay.
The text had come shortly after Dante had dozed off, stood outside the other’s apartment he wondered if this was a mistake. Apparently this wasn’t about sex, which made the lycan worry that it was something worse. Kay looked rough, worse than the last time they’d seen each other and Dante couldn’t help but think that things had deteriorated for him. He could smell… He could smell everything. The things that had been on the other’s skin, fangs and whatever else. Dante ignored it, the vampires had had their party, so of course Kay had gone. The lycan didn’t have any business being jealous about it. “Yeah, it’s cool. Of course.” Dante said as he followed the other inside the familiar place.
Kay doesn’t waste any time going up to the bedroom and that’s when he starts being hyper conscious of worrying about how this is all coming across and it’s the lack of sleep that makes the anxiety so much worse. Lack of sleep and the notion that he is painfully sober at the moment, he hadn’t even bothered smoking between texting Dante and his arrival. But they get to the bedroom and in order to stop this from being suspicious, he doesn’t even acknowledge the bed, he’s looking at the corkboard across from it right above his desk and it’s not at ‘Charlie at the Corkboard’ levels, there’s no string connected anything but there is a lot of crude drawings and post it notes and he gestures to it. He gestures to it and grabs for his pack of cigarettes and his lighter from the desks surface.
“I’ve been having dreams about the fountain since that night.” He talks quickly as he pulls a cigarette out, lights it and brings it to his lips. “I thought at first it was just a bad dream, you know? I don’t like water, we had no fucking clue we weren’t going to drown.” Kay points with his cigarette that’s trailing smoke towards one of the notes and there’s two stick figures, one wearing a red hoodie that’s colored in with pen, that’s Dante. The other has a little fireball, also colored in with pen, the notes kind of crudely chronicle the whole ordeal but he gestures at his sad drawings of what’s supposed to be the statue in different states of decay. “The fountain changes now. I see it clearly right before we jump in every time. I don’t sleep anymore, I just wake up before I can drown.” The hand not holding his cigarette runs through his hair and he is well aware he sounds insane, is desperate for somebody to understand some part of it. “Like I close my eyes sometimes and it’s either stone or-” He pauses in his pacing before the board to just sort of look at Dante in the low light of the bedroom and something clicks into place. “Can you do the eye thing?”
Location: Kay's Place Person: @danteragnulf notes: this is actually a two paragraph starter bc the first paragraph is a dream
He can hear the music from the house party in the background, there’s a tree at his back and Dante’s mouth is on his and then he’s off towards the forest and tumbling downwards. It’s not always accurate to what actually happened, sometimes he’s like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. This isn’t one of those times, he hits the ground hard, there’s Dante calling for him, they meet up again. It’s all by the book this time around, he lights his fire, he leads the way, they move towards the fountain and this is where it’s always different, this is where he always starts paying more attention. Because the fountain is not the same fountain physically as the one that’d been there that day. Sometimes the eyes are closed, sometimes open, sometimes there’s a hole in the statues chest that reveals it’s hollow. It seems to escalate, the damage done to it and sometimes when they jump into the fountain, neither of them come out. Sometimes it’s just him coming out on the other side. This time he goes into the water and he’s fully aware of his heart hammering in his chest and there’s this flash of eyes, bright blue and tired and he opens his mouth and reaches out his hand towards something in the water. Something reaching towards him and he swears his fingers brush something in the darkness of the water and there’s water going into his lungs and- Kay hits the floor between his couch and his coffee table hard, banging his ankle on the way down and his elbow squarely on the hardwood. It doesn’t hurt right away, he’s desperately trying to breathe and remind himself that he’s not drowning, he’s home and he’s safe and when he peels himself off the floor to sit up, there sits his ever annoyed companion. Major had come to check out the noise out of what felt like childish habit, he reaches and cradles the cat to his chest and matches his breathing until they’re both sitting there on the floor without him panting like he’d just ran three miles. When he processes it all, he’s more annoyed than scared because what the fuck did it all mean?? “I’m gonna do it.” He says, looking down at the large gray cat who is peering up, ever annoyed. *
“I didn’t have anyone else I could call.” It’d sound sadder if he didn’t sound out of breath from practically jumping down the stairs when he heard the knock. He looks at Dante on his front steps and after the summit, after yelling at Cloe, that big vampire party, days that’d stretched into weeks dreaming about the man before him, he’s not quite sure he’s even real. Hell, he’d sent the ‘u up? not for a sex thing promise its important’ and hadn’t expected a response at all because he figured one day Dante was going to just disappear. But there he is, in the flesh. “I have something to show you.” He doesn’t really give the wolf time to process it before he’s nodding for him to follow further into the house.
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i literally cannot stop thinking of 001 x reader where the reader secretly gives the kids small things from the outside (like flowers or art supplies) and each time she gets punished for it but one day she gives 001 a bracelet
also i am sososo sorry if im giving too many requests, plz take care <3
I’ll Bring You The Sun As Daisies
Peter Ballard (001) x Orderly! Reader | FLUFF and a small bit of ANGST if you look closely
© lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.
CW: all my works may or may not contain spoilers for S4 so proceed with caution!
Hawkin’s Laboratory was heavily guarded. As in, full grade military, body search, change your clothes before going in kind of heavily guarded.
But somehow you still managed to sneak small little pressed wildflowers in with you, whether it be in your notebook or in your small sanitary bag. If the soldiers standing at their posts noticed or were ordered to stop you, they didn’t say a thing.
In many ways, you were the brightest thing in this facility. Besides the warmth and kindness Peter was known for when handling the children in their lessons, your smile brightened any room you entered.
“Hey,” you greeted 011 softly as you stood in the doorway of her small room.
She looked up at you with wide eyes, wary as you took out your notebook and held out a pressed, yellow daisy to her.
“I found this in the forest today,” you started, sitting on the edge of her bed, the flower resting in the palm of your hand. “I went for a run and I found a whole patch of them right next to where we are now.”
011 softly and hesitantly reached for the dried flower, her fingers daintily plucking it up to hold in her own palm.
“When summer comes, it gets really hot outside. And flowers like these grow everywhere,” you continued explaining. “And this is a daisy. They’re usually white, but I found a yellow one for you. I know how much you like yellow.”
Later on in the day, Peter smiled when he spotted a few of the children with small daisies in their shirt pockets when they came into the Rainbow Room to practice. He knew you were behind this. And so did everyone else. The soldiers didn’t mind and not many of the other orderlies did either. The only one who truly seemed to care was Doctor Brenner himself.
“Don’t you think Brenner will get tired of your antics soon?” was Peter’s way of greeting you when you sat down next to 002, watching him by the pin board, controlling where the red pucks clack clack clacked their way down the pins.
You cast a glare his way and shook your head. “I think they quite like my little gifts, Ballard. And if I’m not mistaken, you’ve done the same on many occasions.”
“On a second name basis, are we?’ he teased you, a cocky grin on his face as he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “At least I haven’t been caught yet, whereas I know you have.”
You huffed and took a step away from him, glaring straight through those blue eyes and into his soul before saying, “You are the favourite. And Brenner has a soft spot for you. You know he takes it out on me.”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, his grin dimming a little. You knew it was a low blow. He’d been here longer than you and you had no inkling as to what he had been through here prior to your employment.
“You’re just jealous that they like my presents a bit more,” you jabbed at him playfully, your heart sighing in relief when that smile of his crinkled the corners of his eyes again.
“Well, there’s no arguing that. I could be only a little bit jealous of how much they adore being around you.”
A few days later you came into work with more flowers in your journal. You’d made sure to bring string with you as well, so that when you went to 011’s room again, the two of you sat for a good ten minutes making a daisy chain.
Peter found himself a few hours later with a small little bracelet, delicate and temporary, tied to his wrist. 011 had ran up to him, you trailing close behind, as she wordlessly gave the chain to him.
He never took it off for the whole day.
The next day, when the flowers were already dry and the petals were breaking off, only then, did you see him finally take it off.
From then on, you came in with one little extra chain in your pocket. Just for him.
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Driving Home for Christmas
a/n: hii! i wanted to make this a super cute dad!h during christmas fic so i hope you enjoy! this fic is a part of @goldenbluesuit ´s christmas song fic challenge which i’m honored to be a part of! It's the first fic challenge I’ve entered and I’ve been nervous to post something along with all these other amazing writers, but I'm excited to post this little piece centered in the dad universe. Happy reading, and remember to read the rest of the entries as well (which I’ve read some these past two weeks and they’re fab!) <3
pairing: dad!h + y/n
warnings: none! just a cute dad!h piece
word count: 3.8k
Harry was loading the trunk of their Audi, putting all their packed suitcases and bags of presents in there. The car was smack full as this year they had another addition to their family, waiting patiently for her mum to feed her before they left the city. It was snowing heavily and Anne made sure they knew they didn’t have to drive up today with the weather making the roads worse than usual. Y/n also told him a hundred times it was his decision as he was the one driving. Harry didn’t budge though, telling his mum they would definitely be there by tonight.
This year's Christmas celebrations were being spent in Cheshire with Harry’s family seeing as they were with her family in Nottingham last year. They’ve found it works best this way rather than splitting it up to go both places every year. After four years together and buying a house at the start of this year, y/n thinks this might be the last Christmas spent out of their own home. They have their two cats (Nellie and Sunny) and having their first child it might be time to start celebrating the holiday at their own house.
«Babe, did you remember to pack the board games?» Harry heard his girlfriend ask from the threshold where they had hung a mistletoe and had Harry not been busy trying to make everything fit, he definitely would’ve turned around, ran up to her and gave her a big smack on the lips. He settled for giving her a thumbs up not swirling around as he was too busy trying to figure out how he could make most of their things fit in the trunk, thinking it was just like a game of tetris. While Harry had been doing the heavy lifting and packing; y/n had put a cute Christmas onesie on the still tiny body of their daughter, definitely small for her age but she was eating like her daddy so where the weight went they had no idea.
Olive was a generally happy, cuddly baby who more often than not reached for her dad over her mum. It didn’t bother y/n that she was a daddy’s girl, knowing how much Harry loves children and now that he has his own he’s all over her. She finds the two cuddled together on the sofa, their bed or the armchair in her nursery at least a couple times a day. Her phone is now overflowing with photos of the two and she’s hoping to put together a photo album for Harry’s birthday filled with them - knowing he’d cherish it forever.
Half an hour later they were pulling out of the driveway. Harry had checked multiple times that all the lights were out, the doors were locked and the alarm system was functioning properly. Olive was smiling as she sat still in her car seat behind y/n. She had wondered if sitting in the back with her daughter would be better, but decided against it. If she got fussy they’d stop at a gas station and she’d move to the back.
The couple was tremendously excited to bring along their little bundle of happiness and get to show her off to all of Harry’s family and friends. Of course, his family have seen her when she was a newborn but living quite far away most of them only get to see them once or twice a year. It’ll change the dynamic of how they celebrate the holidays for sure, but it's a positive change. Anne will spoil her rotten, just like she does to y/n when they visit - making her tea whenever she wants some, washing their dirty laundry (which y/n didn’t care that her mother-in-law saw her underwear cause she didn’t bring anything too scandalous) and heading to the shops when they needed even the smallest thing. Really, y/n thought she was too kind for her own good. At the same time though, y/n always did play a good host when Anne visited them - spoiling her with the comfiest bed sheets, making the food for every meal, not wanting her to lift a finger as if she was the queen.
Olive was eight months - a fairly active one at that - and loves to crawl everywhere, especially to follow her mum or dad around the lower floor of their (way too big) house for only the three (five) of them. Since the pair hadn’t brought Olive with them for such a long drive, the longest being an hour, they were anxious to find out how she’d react to being confined over a longer period of time.
Half an hour in and Olive was babbling away to the teddy bear in her arms (she got it from her nephews when she was born and has been attached to it since) as Harry and y/n talked about how excited they were for their daughter to explore her daddy´s hometown and how his whole family and friends would fall in love with Olive even more. With their little girl just starting to sleep all through the night in her own room, Anne wanted to make sure she got her own room at her nana's too, so apparently she’s cleaned the office and made it into a makeshift nursery for her granddaughter.
Y/n doesn’t know who’s more excited to see all the familiar faces, the family that’s become not only important to her in the last four years, but now also to their baby. The last time they visited Cheshire, y/n was barely two months pregnant and as tough as it was to keep it hidden from Anne for another month, they managed to keep it to the two of them (with just a handful of slip-ups). They were sure Anne knew they were having a baby with the small smirks she gave y/n and harry when she didn’t want the wine - Harry keeping to non-alcoholics in solidarity with her - which was unregular for her, normally jumping on the thought of having a glass or two after a long day.
“You know mum won’t give her up after she gets her hands on her right as we walk through the front door? Might want to hop in the back and get your fix before we get there.” Harry let out a chuckle with y/n joining in knowing just how true his words were. Anne was a godsend of a grandmother, taking Olive in her arms doting over her until she’ll start crying for her daddy. Though everyone gives her all the attention she could wish for, no one could ever do what Harry can. He’s her favorite, no matter how much I wish I could be.
Another half hour later and we were making our first stop at a local gas station in Aylesbury. We were about a third of the way in, but the weather was getting harsher with the snow falling harder and the wind picking up just a little bit. While Harry filled the car up with gas and made sure Olive didn’t start fussing, y/n went inside to get a couple snacky items for the three of them and a filled up cup of coffee for her boyfriend. Coming out of the station she could see Harry in the back with his love bug, bringing her out of the car seat as her cute little wails haltered. She was due for a feed, so they found a secluded space to park so no one would stare at her while breastfeeding their daughter.
Sitting in the front passenger seat with her daughter attached to her nipple with her baby daddy sitting in the driver's seat next to her they spent the next twenty minutes singing along to the Christmas songs playing one after the other on the radio.
Y/n had always loved this time of year - the snow, the songs (which - admittedly - she listened to throughout the entire year), the decorations, the joy and cheer. With y/n and Harry moving in together a month before Christmas, only half a year after they first began dating, they had a mutual understanding for how they would go all out with lights, trees and decorations both on the inside and outside. Though their house was gated with a high fence along the perimeter of their entire land. The trees lining the driveway all the way from the gate to where the gravel road extends into two, one leading to the garage and the other to the front door, were now lit up with strings of light going through them. It was only the beginning to their decorations, but it couldn’t be seen from the gate. More lights were lit along the house, windows were accentuated by red tape creating squares with spray along it, making it seem like snow on the glass. Though there aren’t tons of colourful lights, outside at least, the inside is littered with different colours, shining and sparkling along the staircases, mantels, dressers, counters and tables.
Olive felt like there was something new to look at, touch and be amazed by in every room of their house. As the clock sets seven in the morning, like clockwork, Harry hears Olive’s wails for him to get her out of the crib so she can move around. He kisses y/n’s forehead as he lets her sleep for another half hour to an hour like every morning before pulling on a pair of boxers and some pajama pants if it’s cold to get his daughter from her nursery across the hall.
The two of them were like two giggling girlfriends when they finally saw each other for the first time that day, not being able to keep their smiles from their similar lips. Walking downstairs Olive points at the garland wrapping the staircase and every time she sees it, a small sound of surprise and excitement exit her puckered lips. Harry talks to her about how good her mama is at decorating their house and how good it looks good for Christmas (he only helped her put up decorations, following her direct orders). Y/n had a certain way she liked to decorate and with this being the first Christmas in their house she wanted everything to look perfect.
Coming into the kitchen after turning the dimmed lights on low to have some lighting in the morning dark they had a little shimmy along the floor. Olive babbled along with Harry’s singing and mumbling to her explaining how the buttons on the walls turned on the different lights. She probably didn’t understand or care about the lights, but the two continued singing and talking about nonsense along the way. In the kitchen, Harry made her a bottle she demanded having before getting started on the omelette he makes for him and y/n every morning he’s home without fail.
When they finally got back on the road the snow was coming down heavily and the only thing they could see were the lines of cars in front of them on the M40 pushing the break every few seconds before accelerating again moving only a couple meters before breaking again. Y/n didn’t have a lot of patience in traffic - or in general - and quickly became annoyed making Harry laugh at her telling her to calm down (she wasn’t even the one who had to drive through this horrible weather). This lasted for another forty-five minutes before the snow let up just a little bit and the cars seemed to roll along the road like normal.
“I didn’t think driving home for Christmas would take this long. At least, I hoped it wouldn’t.” They’d been on the road since nine thirty this morning and now, two and a half hours later, they still have at least another two hours left until they’re at Anne’s. It wasn’t unusual for y/n to call Anne’s home, having stayed there for weeks at a time during the almost five years her and Harry have known each other. Harry isn’t unknown to calling y/n’s parents’ house his home either.
“I know. Wish it didn’t have to take this long and I’m sure little Ollie is going to get antsy soon. If the weather continues like this and we don’t have to take more than one more break, I think we’ll be there within three hours, but if we run into traffic, we might have to take more stops along the way.” Harry wanted to move along quickly to get to his mum’s before Olive’s nap time around three, if she didn’t end up sleeping in the car. We knew when we decided to drive in the morning that Olive would probably stay up the whole way, too engrossed with the cars and lights along the way to ever be able to fall asleep.
“You know what we should do to keep her happy for another half hour at least?” Y/n turned to look at Harry with a smile grazing her lips. “Play some Christmas music! She loves when we sing and dance around the house.” Playing the memories of hearing Olive’s belly laughter through the house while Harry and her danced in circles around her like another pair of idiots.
Putting on the same Christmas song list they’ve played since making it together all those years ago, the first song coming on shuffle being Santa Claus is Coming to Town. The noise was at a comfortable volume so they could still hear Olive if she started fussing though it’s unlikely and for it to not be too disturbing for Harry’s driving. With Olive seated with her back to them she couldn’t see her mummy dancing in her seat while they sang along to song after song, but she heard her parents’ voices singing out to the songs she’s heard oh so many times before.
“This is accurate, huh?” Harry snickered as Driving Home for Christmas began playing through the speakers.
“You don’t say.” It was one of their favorite songs and it fit the scene they were in, driving home for Christmas, excited to see their family, singing along the slowly getting better traffic. Looking around at the cars next to them, most of them looked to be families also driving home to be with their families for this year's holiday celebrations.
The rest of the drive was filled with more singing, two more stops for Harry to give his baby some cuddles and walking around one of the local Tesco’s they stopped at to get some more drinks and snacks. Olive was waving at everyone walking past us and talking all kinds of gibberish. While y/n grabbed the snacks, Harry had Olive walking along the aisles in between his feet while holding her little hands in his following her around the store.
A quarter to three they finally made it to Anne’s home, reversing into the driveway so they could get their baggage inside easier later in the day. Y/n saw Anne open the front door in the rearview mirror when Harry was pulling in the last meters. There was a bright smile on her face when we got out of the car. The snow had laid thick on the ground up north and the slick ice underneath made it harder to walk without having to make sure every step was carefully thought out.
Just minutes later Olive was already crawling with her little legs all over her grandma’s home, interested in anything and everything she could get her chubby hands on not seeming to be tired at all. They decided to forgo her nap and hope for an early night, which isn’t likely with everything going on around her. Anne was on granny duties right away telling the pair to sit down and relax with the tea she had prepared while she took care of the baby. There was no doubt she loved the attention from the person she might not remember from this summer but quickly became attached to, almost as much as she is to her daddy.
Harry found his place on the sofa, head in y/n’s lap and feet hanging over the armrest demanding her fingers curling through his locks. It wasn’t surprising to her that he was tired from driving the entirety of the way in traffic and tightly packed snow at times. Sure, if needed he could have stayed awake, but with his mum taking care of his little love he didn’t care much, falling asleep to his other love combing her fingers through his hair. It didn’t happen too often that they could have a cuddle in the middle of the day - just the two of them - with Olive needing their attention at all hours of the day so when the opportunity arose he wasn’t going to turn it down. He admits, though this is nice as well, that a naked cuddle in bed would definitely top laying on the sofa with his mum and daughter running around them. Maybe tonight, he thinks, as he finally falls asleep to the sound of Olive’s giggles.
As nighttime inched closer and Olive’s bedtime was passing them in the chatter and laughter, y/n told Harry to get their things from the car while she nurses Olive before getting her ready for bed. While they took care of their daughter, Anne made a nice spread of cheese and crackers for them to indulge tonight while catching up on everything that’s been going on in their lives since the last time she visited them in London.
Harry found Olive’s bag first, choosing a pair of christmassy pajamas from the mountain of clothes they had brought for her. Y/n walked upstairs to the nursery Anne had set up, seeing Harry already unpacking her bags into the cute vintage turquoise chiffonier Anne had bought from a neighbour only a couple weeks ago immediately falling in love with it.
«Would you like to have a cuddle with daddy before bed, Ollie?» Y/n firmly believed her daughter needed the nightly cuddle from Harry, just like she does, to fall asleep. She was already reaching out for him with her nimble hands waiting for him to take her in for a snuggle in his arms. There was no armchair in the makeshift nursery like they had purchased for Olive’s nursery back home where they always sat but Harry made it work. Anything for a cuddle with his baby growing way too quick for his liking.
It was no secret Harry loved babies and that only heightened when he had his own baby. With how good Olive is and how lush it’s been having a baby around and it not be just the two of them, he had thought about what it would be like with another baby around. Another little love for them to have, give Olive a sister or brother to play with. He hadn’t said anything to y/n about the thoughts he’d been having, not knowing if she'd agree with him. It’s been eight months and when they had talked about it before they agreed on a maximum of two years between their children.
Only a couple hours later they headed to bed themselves, ready for a good night's sleep before another long day tomorrow. Harry had been debating with himself whether he was going to mention babies to y/n or not - ultimately ended up with yes, he would mention it. Now they were finally alone with y/n resting her head on Harry’s pillow, her fingers delicately drawing patterns on his chest.
“I have something I’d like to discuss with you.” Harry’s voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper, not wanting to ruin the calmness around them. He wasn’t nervous so to say, but he felt his pulse quicken the tiniest bit at the thought of getting turned down. Y/n turned her head to watch Harry as he pulled her in as close as he could without suffocating her.
“It’s been lovely having Olive, right? Seems like it was meant to be to have a baby and during the holidays it’s been so fun watching her so interested in everything.” Y/n murmured her answer. She had loved having a little one to care for and to fill their days with joy over the last eight months.
“Well, with how well it’s been going with her, I was thinking we could talk about having another little one? Maybe discuss it a bit. What do you say, let's make Ollie a big sister?”
“I think we might be well on the way to making her a sister, bub.” Harry turned his head at lightning speed hearing her words, not knowing if he heard her quite right. His open mouth and big round eyes weren’t something she saw often combined as she wasn’t always the best at surprising him, but this time she was sure her secret had come as a big shock. It wasn’t as if they had been trying for a baby either, only forgetting a condom a handful times when they were too in the moment to care for it.
She found out only a week ago, thinking she could keep it to herself until Christmas day. It wasn’t difficult to hide it from him, not struggling with morning sickness and only craving sweets as if she was on her period. Knowing they had agreed on the number of children they wanted - four - she wasn’t scared of him reacting badly.
“You’re not joking, right?” Harry smashed his lips onto his girlfriends when she shook her head - no, i’m not joking - kissing her slow and long, showing her just how happy he was. They spent the night talking about how thrilled and excited they were to expand their family with more children and how great of a sister Olive would be. Baby names were flying between them, agreeing to never naming one of their babies after a city, but rather continuing naming them something more unique than Chloe or Adam.
The rest of the holiday spent up north with Harry’s family was relaxing and lovely all around. Playing board games, exploring the city with Olive (who was way too fascinated by all the snow), family dinner parties and having fun with friends they didn’t get to see all too often. Olive was wiped out after opening her presents on Christmas morning and spending all her energy on all the toys she got and the paper ripping she played with (more than the toys to be honest).
This year had been special for the family and Christmas was just the same. Olive was lively and it made y/n and Harry exhausted with everything going on, but they wouldn’t change it for the world. After all, Olive was their little girl and soon there would be another little love in their family. Trying to keep the pregnancy from their family and friends was easier this time around as she could blame not drinking alcohol on her breastfeeding and decided they would keep it hidden from everyone until the last possible minute.
#gbsxmaschallenge#harry styles fic#harry styles fluff#harry styles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles drabble#harry styles fiction#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#fic challenge#harry styles x oc#harry styles x yn#writing
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Just writing down my thoughts about the two backstage pictures we got. yeah I love to joke and bully harry about it but me not liking the visuals doesn't mean they don't make me feel stuff <3
ok so Harry's naked, in his bath, icebath it seems like so chilling after the show, not exactly looking up with his whole body but rather rising his eyes like "??". He looks caught mid-expression, like he's about to say something. The angle is kind of off-centre, like some on-board camera effect.
The watcher (the pov) is above Harry, hovering over him in his private space. It looks like we jumped in the bath, without any warning.
It's invasive. Harry doesn't want us here, in his space, in his bath.
Okay this was the one that made me go "???" Because it really really gives me Psycho.
It literally feels like we're the one lurking behind the curtain. And right after a pic where Harry was actually in a bathtub... Why is Harry so far ? It's like the photographer doesn't want to come any closer not to be noticed. Harry doesn't know we're here, he's doing his lil pre-show routine before putting up a show for thousands of people and still, he's not alone. Or he always feels observed. I don't know.
Basically it's really the pov of those photographs that intrigues me. They feel very personal in a sense, but also troubling. Pre show and post show. Way too close and way too far. I'm waiting for more to see if there's some kind of red string but it's already a pretty strong beginning. not saying that it means anything but the vibes are peculiar to me. but that could just be his edgy hipster vision
#my analysis#idk what to tag this#harrys lense#for now#though its not#sorry anthony#i will change the tag later lol
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Guardian Angel
Daryl Dixon x Reader
(Warnings: It’s gonna get kinda gory cause the reader is gonna learn how to skin a rabbit, so prepare yourselves, also Merle is a creep, as always, also cussing and this is kinda long)
(Okay! So I’m considering making this a series, just don’t really know yet, but let me know if you guys want a series outta this, I have a lot of ideas for this. Also I'm borrowing my friend's computer so I'll try to get more fics done and post them, stay safe out therer ya'll!)
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You let out a huff as you continued to scrub the shirt on the washing board, listening to the girls talk, but too lost in your own head to listen. You were, however, brought out of your day dreaming by Carol’s voice, looking up at her and her kind smile that she always bore, despite what that monster of a husband did to her. “You alright honey?” You forced a smile, giving a brief nod before shrugging, “just lost in thought, I guess” you looked down briefly before looking back up, noticing how you had all of the girls’ attention now, making you bite your lip nervously “what?” Andrea was the first to giggle at your response, “oh nothing, just, does that thought of yours happen to carry a crossbow around?” your mouth fell open at her question, making her smirk at you and the other girls laugh “shut up!” you splashed water at her, making everyone, including you, laugh loudly. You all continued to laugh, you felt tears in your eyes as your stomach hurt from laughing, but it all died down once you heard a whistle, turning to look at none other but the biggest perv in camp, Merle Fucking Dixon.
“Well, what do we have here? What’re you pretty little ladies gigglin’ about?” It was amazing to see all the girls roll their eyes at the exact same time, it almost made you laugh again, almost. “Mind your own business, Merle” Andrea got back to washing the clothes, clearly not impressed with him, which no one was at this point, but Merle didn’t take too kindly to it “why don’t you say that to my face, sugar tits? I’d sure as hell love to shut that pretty little mouth of yours up” you gagged at Merle’s comment, feeling sick to your stomach, and a part of you admired Andrea for how she kept a stone face.
“In your dreams, Merle” Andrea huffed out, but Merle just smirked.
“Oh it sure will be” you gagged again, so you decided to get up, the wet clothes in your arms, you didn’t much feel like washing them again after throwing up on them because of Merle. “Excuse me ladies, I have to go throw up” you walked past Merle to hang up the clothes to dry, but stopped abruptly as Merle gave your ass a smack on the way, turning back to ogle at Andrea. You turned slowly around, quietly balancing all of the clothes in one hand to bend down and pick up a rock, almost the size of your palm, and a smirk slowly made it’s way onto your lips as you thought over your plan. You chugged it as hard as you could at Merle’s head, hitting him right on his balding head, and you just ran for it. You moved your legs as fast as you could, your mind going almost as fast, now you had to come up with something, you heard Merle yell from down in the quarry. You spotted Lori and bolted towards her, making her look up at you with narrowed eyes as you panted heavily, trying to find the words you needed to ask her to help you, but you barely had the chance before she extended her arms “go on, before he catches up” you smiled brightly, letting her take the wet clothes “thank you Lori you are a goddess!” she rolled her eyes with a smile “don’t I know it. Now go” you nodded and bolted off into the woods, you had your knife with you, you would be fine.
Once you thought you were far enough into the woods you leaned against a big tree, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath, once you had a decent hold of your breathing, you slowed it down, listening for any sounds, but mostly listening for the angry footsteps of Merle searching for you. After a minute or so of listening, you breathed out a breathless laugh, bending over with your hands on your knees to really catch your breath, now that you had been holding it for a while. You were about to go back when you heard footsteps and leaves crunching, spinning around to see none other than your favorite Dixon, not that there was much competition.
You exhaled heavily, a hand over your hand “you scares the fuck outta me, Daryl” you gave him a warm smile, making him scoff as he approached you “wasn’t even tryin’ to be quiet” he commented as he approached, he never really looked at you, he was too shy, but now he were. You both had small moments like this where you could be yourselves, where he could look at you without blushing, at least not too much, and you found it adorable.
“Good game?” you asked, pointing to the squirrels and rabbits over his shoulder, making him glance at it and shrug “yeah, the rabbit was a bitch to find though” you furrowed your brows “what? The great Daryl Dixon, master hunter, couldn’t catch a little bunny?” you joked, making him scoff once again, shaking his head at you as he looked down before back up at you “nah I caught it alright, it was finding it that was a bitch” you smirked at him, studying him for a few seconds before shrugging, leaning against the tree you had been hiding behind just a few minutes earlier, “then why go after it?” Daryl looked down, blushing red like a tomato at your question, shrugging as he kept his eyes on the ground “well, you liked the last one I caught right?” you nodded, giving a small ‘mhm’ in conformation, which just made him shrug again, as if that was the answer itself. Your eyes widened a bit, and now it was your turn to look like a tomato, letting out a quiet ‘oh’ as you looked down at the leaves under your boots, a dumb grin on your face “well, that was very nice of you, Daryl, thank you” you nudged his shoulder as you looked back up at him, only to find him looking at you already. It was like a scene from a movie, and cliché as it sounds, the way the whole world just went away, how everything else faded as you held eye contact. Maybe it was just on your part, maybe you were just hallucinating, but you liked to think that he felt the same, even if it was just wishful thinking.
You were snapped out of it as he cleared his throat, looking down again, you didn’t think it was possible for his face to turn even more red, but here you were, staring at a very red Daryl. “So, wanna head back?” he looked back up at you, making you smile even more, though you wanted to say no, you wanted to just sit down on the ground with him and just talk. You wanted to stay here with him for so much longer, just have the world fade around you until only the two of you were left, you wanted to sit and talk about his life, the things he loved, the things he did before the whole world went to shit. You realized then that you didn’t know that much about him, you knew his life had been shit, it was a given, you knew he must’ve had a tough childhood, you knew he liked to be alone, he liked the quiet, hence the hunting and tracking, but other than that, you didn’t know much, but in this world you didn’t really need to, you thought. Who he was before didn’t matter, you knew who he was now, and that's all that mattered to you.
You realized you had been quiet and just staring at him when he said your name, you loved it when he said your name, it sounded so heavenly coming from his lips. “(Y/N)? You alright?” you blinked a few times before coughing, looking down embarrassed “y-yeah I just uh, I think I’ll stay here a while longer, you know? Enjoy nature and all that” he let out a small laugh, something you quickly engraved in your memory, it sounded so sweet, it was one of the very rare times you had heard it, and it was always when you were alone. Daryl walked past you towards camp, and for a second you actually thought he bought it, but seeing him turn around to face you, a knowing smirk on his lips made you realize that he simply knew you too well at this point, that or you were a lousy liar, one of the two, “come on, I ain’t gonna let him get ya”, you let out a small chuckle, stepping closer to him, leaning in and pecking his cheek, your own cheeks were burning up, so was the tip of your ears “thank you, Daryl” you went ahead towards camp, Daryl completely frozen in place though it didn’t last long, he soon caught up to you, walking next to you with his head down, though every once in a while you’d see him sneaking a glance at you out of the corner of your eyes, and it made a bright smile form on your lips.
As you reached the edge of camp you looked around for Merle, cautious, which made Daryl scoff in amusement “whatcha do this time?” you looked at him with as much innocence as you could muster, but seeing as it didn’t work you sighed, you knew it was his brother, so you didn’t want to upset him in any way “he was ogling and saying some things to Andrea… and when I tried to walk past him he slapped my ass,” you swore you saw Daryl clench his jaw, but you couldn’t be too sure, your eyes were partially on the ground, you cleared your throat and continued “and I uh, may or may not have.. thrown a rock at him, and hit him… possibly…” you dared to sneak a glance at Daryl, but all you could see was amusement “well, he ain't never learnt how to treat women” was all Daryl said as he sat down on a tree stump with a leg on each side, taking off the string of squirrels and two rabbits he had tied to it, you bit your lip to hide your smile, nodding and sitting down across from him on the ground, studying him as he was about to skin one of the two rabbits.
“Can you teach me?” his eyes looked up at yours and you swore you saw a hint of confusion in them, but he looked down quickly again “you sure? It ain’t pretty” you raised a brow at his comment, smirking at him “Daryl Dixon, just so you know, I ain’t a ‘pretty girl’ “you tried your best to match his accent, making him eye you before shaking his head again “please never do that again” you laughed low “what? I ain’t doin’ nothin’” you continued to say in the accent, making him smirk, but he tried to hide it “if you’re gonna be like that I won’t teach ya” you held your hands up in surrencer, seeing the amused look on his face that he tried to hide “alright, you win, now teach me” he scoffed low, shaking his head as he got out his hunting knife.
(this is where the gore kinda starts, so you can skip this part if you want to)
“Alright then. You’ll want to pinch the hide on the rabbit’s back and make a small cut. The hide of a rabbit is very thin and you don’t even need a knife to do this; I’ve used a sharp stick to puncture the skin. Now you’re gonna watch me, and then see how you do on the other one, got it?” you nodded with a small smile, turning your eyes back to his hands and the rabbit, you really did want to learn, so you paid as much attention as possible. “Once you’ve made the cut, work your middle and index finger from both hands into the opening, like this. Now, you’re gonna wanna have steady hands, you're just gonna hook your fingers under the skin and pull one hand toward the head and the other toward the ass, alright? Don’t be scared to use a bit of force” you bit your lip to hold back a laugh at his casual language, merely nodding your head and continuing to watch him work, “The skin will begin to tear and separate from the body in two pieces. Keep pulling, grabbing more of the skin as you go to get a better grip, alright? It’s gonna be a bit tough but it’s alright. Now you just gotta work the legs out.” you nodded as you watched him, and before you knew it, your mouth opened “like pulling off a shirt” you blushed as he looked at you but he just shrugged and looked back down to the rabbit “yeah, somethin’ like that”, he gave you a small smirk before continuing his work, continuing to pull on the fur, ripping on it left the feet still covered, it reminded you of tiny shoes.
(the gore ends now, there’ll be hints at the rest of the process but this is where the explanation and detail ends)
You watched as he made a final pull, tugging harshly at the rear and you had a small snapping like noise, realizing the tail had been pulled off as well “wow” Daryl scoffed low “eh don’t worry about it, it happens, just saves the work of doing it later” you nodded as he put the now skinned fur to the side, about to tell you what to do next when you heard your name being called by an angry raspy voice, your head snapping around to look at the source, the source being Merle Dixon himself, the man you had completely forgotten about.
“(Y/N)! You little bitch!” Merle still held the back of his head in pain, and it would've made you laugh, if you didn’t feel like he could kill you at any moment given how angry he was. You were stuck in between smirking and running away, but Daryl quickly brought Merle’s attention away from you “whatchu want Merle?” he sounded pissed off, and a part of you hoped it was because he enjoyed spending time with you, and because that time was now interrupted, another part was worried that this was just because today was being too much, had it really been that difficult to find those rabbits for you? Or maybe you pushed it too far with asking him to teach you, but on the other hand, he actually seemed like he enjoyed teaching you, so maybe it really was just the aura or Merle annoying the hell out of him.
“Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you baby brother, so mind ya own business! (Y/N) you bitch! Think you can just throw shit at me and get away with it?! Huh?! I’m gonna show you-” Daryl stood up the second Merle took a step closer to you “just piss of Merle, I don’t care if she threw shit at ya, ya ain’t dead, so stop whining like a little bitch” your eyes widened at the scene unfolding in front of you, you had never heard Daryl talk to him that way, and these two weren’t exactly shy about fighting in front of others. Merle glanced between the two of you, a part of him was seething and another part of him was mocking you as he started to laugh “well! What do we have here? Little baby Daryl’s in love, everybody! What’s gonna happen next huh? You gonna let her paint your nails, huh? Maybe play dress up?! I ain’t the one acting like a little love sick puppy so don’t call me a whiny bitch!” As quick as he had acted amused he acted furious, they stood chest to chest now, their noses almost touching as they stared each other down, and you were pretty positive that if it went on any longer, one of them would punch the other.
“G-Guys… maybe, uh… maybe we could all just take a step back?” you glanced at Glenn as he nervously approached, God bless his heart, he was just trying to make everyone calm down. Glenn had always been sweet to you, Dale as well, so you cringed when Merle spun around and hit him in the face, Glenn had tried to move away but Merle had still hit him, you quickly sprung to your feet, your first instinct was to hold Daryl back as he moved towards Merle, but you let Shane handle him, pinning him to the ground with his hands behind his back, holding him down.
“Don’t, Daryl, come on” you whispered, you hadn’t realized how close you two stood, until you tore your eyes away from Merle to look at Daryl, his face mere inches away from yours, but he didn’t notice, he was too busy contemplating if he should get Shane off of Merle or if he should help hold him down. You frowned as Daryl moved from your side “get the fuck off of him!” he ripped Shane to the side, helping Merle stand up and you couldn’t help the scoff you let out. You looked down and shook your head, walking past him to Glenn, kneeling besides him to look at his cheek, Lori, Andrea and Amy were on the ground next to him as well “here let me look” you inspected his cheek cringing a bit seeing the redness “it’s alright, he hit you but you still moved back, you’re not gonna get a bruise I think” Glenn nodded as he held his cheek again, wincing slightly as all the girls, you included, helped him stand up, even though he could do so just fine.
You glanced at Dale, giving him a small smile, assuring him that Glenn was okay, to which he visibly relaxed. You glanced at Daryl who was busy yelling at Shane to not touch his brother, and Shane yelling back that he shouldn’t just hit people then. It was chaos, not in a traditional sense, but those three yelling at each other, Glenn hurt, even though it wasn’t serious, it just made you feel like this was chaos.
You sighed and walked off towards the quarry, Andrea and Lori helping Glenn put something cold on his cheek. You sighed as you sat down on a rock near the water, watching the ripples caused by the wind, you barely noticed Dale approaching, sitting down next to you on a rock. You both sat there in silence watching the water, and after a while Dale finally broke the silence “it’s so quiet here” you hummed in response, taking in a deep breath of fresh air “yeah it is… almost makes you forget how shit everything is” Dale chuckled low “yeah, though not everything is bad” you looked at him “no?” Dale shook his head and met your gaze “I saw you and Daryl, that’s not bad, is it?” you chuckled low and looked out over the water again “no, I guess… I mean… I just wish he-... you know? I just-... and he, he just… it’s frustrating” you sighed and looked down at the rocks under your feet, picking one up and fiddling with it “Daryl is-”
“Complicated?” you laughed as Dale basically finished your sentence, nodding your head gently “yeah, but he’s also so sweet… it’s his brother Merle, he irks him and riles him up and he just… he’s just so… I don’t know… but it’s not who Daryl is, Daryl is sweet and shy and I know he doesn’t show it a lot but he’s so kind, while hunting, he remembered that I liked the rabbit he caught last time, so he went out of his way to find two more today, it makes me feel, I don’t know… special, and when he defended me from Merle, it made me feel like he’s my guardian angel sometimes...” you shrugged, looking back at Dale who nodded, giving you a knowing look which made you blush as you realized what you had just said out loud, your gaze turning back to the rock in your hands.
“I agree, you know, Daryl is definitely not like his brother, I’m just happy he shows it to someone at least, instead of hiding it. No one can be alone with who they are all the time, at least they shouldn’t, in my experience” you hummed low again, your eyes looking back out over the water, a small smile on your lips “��walking in the dark with a friend is better than walking alone in the light’” you mumbled, making Dale look at you with an intrigued look, a warm smile still on his lips, as it usually was. “It’s… it’s a quote from Helen Keller” you explained, Dale giving you a small ‘aha’ sound before looking back out over the water. You both sat there for a while longer, he had given guard duty to Andrea before coming down here, so you both just sat and watched the water and the sun reflected upon it’s surface.
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taeil — part of the my bloody valentine collection.
prompt. soulmates are connected by a red string.
synopsis. taeil thinks the whole system is bullshit. he needs to take matters into his own hands.
warnings. tread cautiously. swearing, mentions of death, blood, mentions of kidnapping, violence, turning a 'lil dubcon near the end, severe stockholm syndrome, manipulation
disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.
thank you to. sexeh sam @yukwonghei, cutie charlie @dundun-baby, and baby rina @greenish-taro for beta-reading!
since he was a kid, he’s fantasized about meeting his soulmate. creating scenario after scenario of how he’d meet ‘the one’ as he had cheesily addressed and had absolutely freaked when he finally saw the red string tied around his right wrist on his 20th birthday—courtesy of the soulmate rules of the universe, where one will finally be able to see the string tied around their body once they’ve come of age.
for years before he met that other soul who’s destined to be with him, taeil would stare at the red thread lying across the floor, disappearing under the gap of his door and out to the world unknown. he’d be so distracted, so aloof and in his own world as he anticipates the long-awaited day until his professor calls him out—“moon! do yourself a favor and stop daydreaming!”
until his friends snap him out of it—“thinking of them again? really?”
until his parents shake him out of his thoughts—“don’t worry, i bet they’ll love you!”
sometimes he just loved staring at the string, it was something so measly as a bunch of threads intricately woven together yet it held such a symbol in today’s world. call him lovesick or stupid but was it really wrong to feel excited? taeil’s even betting the person on the other side of this string is just as excited as he was, if not more.
in the man’s eyes, the strings are a symbol of something more than love—it symbolized the person the universe has created especially for him and no one else.
taeil can’t even imagine a world without these strings. how difficult it would be, to love and invest in someone who will only end up breaking your heart? no, the strings also meant reassurance.
assurance that he won’t get hurt.
an assurance of faithfulness.
he had only been a wide-eyed fresh grad looking for some place to intern when it happened. like a scene right out of a cheesy romance movie—he felt the persistent tugs of the string before finally meeting his soulmate. well, using the word meet to describe the whole ordeal is a huge stretch because it was more of a holy shit, is that my soulmate? rather than a hi, i'm your soulmate, taeil!
he merely saw the back of her poised figure but taeil’s heart felt like it wanted to explode, his emotions a mess and feeling everything to the extremes. nervous. scared. anxiety. happiness. excitement—it was all coming at him like bullets.
as taeil stared at her back, walking away, johnny kept shoving him forward, encouraging him to finally approach the person he’s been waiting for ever since that soulmate string appeared around his pinky.
but he couldn’t—not because he was so anxious he’d accidentally vomit the 4-cheese whopper he had for lunch but due to the line of people trailing behind his soulmate like a bunch of baby ducks to their mom. the thought of coming up to his soulmate and introducing himself in front of all those people?
romantic, maybe, but taeil doesn’t have the stomach to do that.
he remembers how much johnny had wolf whistled, unbelieving of the fact his friend managed to snag the possible heir to the company they’re attending an interview in as his soulmate.
“lucky little asshole,” johnny muttered.
taeil had been experiencing the post-effects of seeing his soulmate that he just weakly punched johnny’s arm for the heck of it. he probably didn’t even hear the name his younger friend had called him. taeil’s mind is clouding over, no thoughts in his head but the white polo shirt she wore, sleeves neatly rolled up, and the black pencil skirt hugging her legs and making her ass look so plump.
focus. he needs to focus on the interview right now or else he won’t even have the chance to work here and officially meet her. everything the interviewer asked passed through his head like paper planes in a classroom, shamelessly asking the woman sitting before him to repeat the question, too busy reveling about how their soulmate story would be the cliché office-love. not that taeil minds, he’d love going to work together—
two weeks later, johnny receives an email of acceptance. taeil doesn’t.
the man nearly threw his laptop away out of sheer disbelief and anger. okay, sure, maybe he could’ve done better in the interview but he graduated with latin honors in college! and from a prestigious college at that. he shouldn’t even be applying as a mere intern with the skill set he had yet he went with it because he’d always dreamed of working there.
and now knowing his soulmate is possibly someone who holds a high position in the company? everything just kept getting better and better for moon taeil.
except for that fucking email—pft, or lack thereof. how can they not accept him when he’s more capable than johnny, anyway? for fuck’s sake! taeil doesn’t even ask that guy for rent and he’s so thick-skinned that he stayed up to this day and freeloaded off taeil’s food and shelter.
the absolute unfairness of the situation makes taeil’s blood reach a fever point. he’s completely lossed it, leading him to spit “get the fuck out!” to the other male occupant in the apartment with eyes glaring and lips pulled into a nasty sneer.
johnny’s never seen taeil this upset before and decided that he’d be better off abiding by the older man’s wishes instead of contradicting it.
no. no. no. this can’t be happening. if taeil doesn’t work there, with her, all his sweet fantasies won’t come true and god forbid she ends up falling for another person in the company.
anyone would be naturally drawn to taeil’s soulmate. in his eyes, she’s a goddess in the flesh. taeil doesn’t even need to see her face, from the few seconds he saw a glimpse of her, her presence and allure in itself is already eye-catching. the way her low ponytail swished from side to side as she walked, her back straight and head held high.
taeil needs to see her again. maybe if she finds out he’s her soulmate she’ll put a good word in and he’ll get hired.
yeah. yeah, that’s a good plan.
“please get out of my office or i’ll call security.”
or not.
“no, wait. but i just said i’m your soulmate!” to further prove his point, he even raises up his pinky and sure enough the other end of the string is tied around hers. the incessant pull is there and if not for her sharp cold eyes anchoring him to the ground, taeil would’ve long been soaring high in cloud nine.
“and i said i don’t care,” she snaps just as her fingers sneakily pressed a button in her phone. “i have a fiancé. the whole soulmate bullshit doesn’t apply to rich people. so for the fucking last time, get out of my office.”
“but—”
the double doors of the vice president’s office bounces off the walls when two burly guards barge in. dressed in a white long sleeves and those heavy tinted shades of glasses that taeil hates. the two men waste no time in hooking their arms underneath the smaller, frail man as he thrashes against their arms.
“how can you not care about your soulmate?!” taeil can feel the beginning licks of the flames eating up his whole world as everything comes crashing down before his very eyes. “i’ve been—i’ve been waiting my whole life for you and this is how you treat me?!”
he doesn’t know what hurts more, the scratch in his throat as he screamed with all his might or the stoic look written on her face as the guards haul him away.
when johnny heard the news he’d never felt so sorry for his friend. rumors that initially circulated only between the executive board members had spread and trickled down to the common folk on the lower levels. johnny making it a mission to find out, had extracted himself from his usual cheery and extroverted self to blend in with the background. taeil has yet to talk to him after he got kicked out, so asking his friend—or ex-friend?—about what happened is out of the question.
but like any other breed of rumor, the tale of their vice president’s soulmate barging in her office is ever changing through each mouth that tells the story. johnny doesn't know what to believe in. he’s been trying to put off a meeting with the older man ever since he started crashing in taeyong’s apartment instead. not that taeil himself even tried reaching out to johnny, anyway.
so why should he, when he doesn’t even know what he did wrong?
but there’s a nagging voice at the back of johnny’s head. his conscience isn’t too loud but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there and it doesn’t need excessive volumes to be heard. all it takes is a second of distraction from the paperwork he does, attention straying from the task at hand, and his body will automatically be wracked with guilt.
knowing how much taeil had waited for his soulmate to come to his life, knowing how taeil can readily give everything up for his soulmate without even meeting them yet… and now knowing taeil just got the worst ever rejection in his entire life?
johnny can’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through. is he really going to choose now out of all times to be petty because taeil kicked him out when he didn’t even bother asking johnny for anything in return during his stay in the apartment?
so when taeil finally contacted him, the sketchyness of what he had asked for flew right over johnny’s head. rational thoughts flying out the window because taeil needs him, he should his friend after everything taeil did for him—
“hey, uhm… i need insider’s information, can you do that for me?”
you shook your head at the long story johnny told you. tuffs of your hair have escaped the intricate pigtails taeil has put your hair up in earlier before he left for work. he’s always hated having your hair messy, but at the moment you couldn’t find yourself to care.
“i wouldn’t put it past taeil’s original soulmate…” you think aloud, mouth speaking before you can stop yourself as you stare disdainfully at the dulled string wrapped around your pinky—it lost its divine red glow after your captor had cut it off on the same day he whisked you away.
ironic, how easy it was to destroy something so important.
you backtracked, realizing the gravity of what you said before looking up at your captor’s friend. johnny doesn’t look all too impressed and he sighs at the pleading look in your eyes. please, don’t tell him.
“i guess you’re somewhat right…” he gives in, coursing his fingers through his hair. “taeil had been… very passionate on finding his soulmate. but i mean, come on, why’d you even marry someone who isn’t your soulmate? i don’t blame taeil for doing what he did to them.”
johnny ignores the way your breath hitches and your body halts all movement. “what—what did he do?”
“paid them a ‘lil visit after gathering enough resources from someone on the inside,” his face stoic, voice monotone. johnny doesn’t like talking about this one. “he studied their schedules, where they live, where they work, how they get to work, what time they sleep, what time they wake. then just one day…”
he drags a finger across his neck.
“oh.”
pathetically, it was all you can say. why did you even bother to ask, anyway? if taeil had been willing to exert force just to keep you in line, then he has the stomach for whatever gruesome deaths he subjected his soulmate and her fiancé to.
you nibble on your lip as you stare at the knot of thread lying on the floor. you don’t see the need to wear the collar wrapped around your neck when that knot is good enough a reminder that you’re now bound to taeil. that he’s fucked around with your destiny and decided he’ll have you out of all people.
its hard to believe taeil once almost worshipped the soulmate bonds, not when all he’s ever done is look at it like it's the bane of his existence and calling it a curse to humanity.
“do you know that you’re—”
“that i’m the 5th? yeah, i know. i saw all the knots on his string.” you defeatedly say, a vivid image of the knots spaced across his string like tophies. “taeil doesn’t like me staring at them, though.”
and you yourself didn’t like staring at them. you never thought something so small and insignificant can mean something so sinister. the knots on his string acting like a body counter. will he get sick of you one day and you’ll just be another knot on his string?
“you’re nothing like his soulmate—i’m not insulting you or anything, i’m just saying the truth. the past girls all had at least something in common with her but you… nothing. not even your hair shines like hers, and that’s even after taeil has taken good care of you.”
this doesn’t soothe you in any sense and before you can open your mouth to retort, the familiar beeping of the code getting punched into the keypad cuts you off.
taeil stood in the entrance as he shrugged off his coat, his polo crinkled at some areas and pieces of his hair had escaped that slicked back hairstyle.
“you’re home early…”
your blood runs cold when he doesn’t even offer you a glance, skipping you out and immediately addressing johnny. “i thought i told you to go home already after delivering the food.”
you admire the way johnny’s eyes roll. must be nice not to be so fucking terrified of the man. “yeah, but your current sweetheart here was lonely and practically begged me to stay.”
the sting of betrayal never grows familiar.
“i never said anything—”
“you did, have you forgotten already?” you hate the show of lust clouding in johnny’s eyes as he stares you down. this can’t be happening right now. “have you forgotten how you even came unto me? whined like a bitch about how taeil doesn’t even fuck you hard enough and you had to fake orgasms all the time?”
“that’s not true!” your frustration manifests as tears. they sting your eyes as you look at taeil. “i never said anything—”
but you pale when you realize they’re not even listening to you, the two guys fist bumping in the foyer and exchanging a few words like “thanks for telling me,” and “no problem, bro,” were heard before taeil is heatedly storming up to you.
you feel numb as you look over taeil’s shoulder at the little smirk johnny shoots at you. have fun, he mouths mockingly and then he’s out the door, extracting himself from the mess he created.
when taeil wordlessly drags you across the hallway, you thought he’ll make a right turn and into the bedroom but imagine your surprise when he pulls you instead towards the bathroom. he wastes no time throwing you against the cold hard tiles as he tells you only one thing.
“strip.”
“taeil…”
“you don’t want to be replaced.” it doesn’t take a genius to know taeil had hit the nail on the head. all your movements come to a halt, looking up at him with an unreadable look in your face. “that’s your fear, isn’t it? that if you die, if i kill you, i can just look for another girl and you’d be forgotten at the snap of a finger. i’m right, aren’t i?”
you gulp, his words stinging even if he didn’t mean for it to sting. or maybe he did. taeil takes a step closer to you, studying your appearance as he brings a hand up to caress your tear-stained face.
spots in your clothes are wet due to the splashes of water on the tiles, and the clips in your hair that once looked neat and perfect are now hanging in disarray, falling off in some places.
“i’m sorry,” you sob. “i’m sorry, john—johnny’s lying. you—you have to—to believe me. please don’t replace me… i’ll be good, i promise…”
truly, there’s no better motivator than fear. and there’s no better way to mess with someone’s head than using their weakness against them.
“you say you’ll be good but i tell you to strip and you couldn’t even do that?”
taeil could never imagine replacing you. he finds it stupid, whatever that brought in this fear of yours, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be extracting every little bit he can get out of this.
he can only stare in awe when you start wiggling your way out of your pretty pink clothes, eyes drinking every bit of your skin slowly being exposed to him as he reaches behind you to open the running water, slowly filling the bathtub.
“get in,” he instructs and you waste no time.
as he sheds his own clothes, he can practically feel the want radiating off you. he knew johnny’s lying, but he humored his friend still. there’s no way you can fake the noises you always make. plus, taeil has seen one too many times the cum dribbling out of your cunt after he’s fucked you into oblivion. he scoffs. harder? then he’ll be breaking you in half already.
taeil swats your hand away as it reaches for his cock and he hopes you don’t notice it twitching before you when you let out a cute whine.
“you want it?”
you nod urgently, salavitating at the thought. taeil was more of a giver to his partners, it’s rare for him to take his pleasure first but you’re far from complaining.
“oh, i don’t know…” he pouts, fisting himself in front of you before giving it a few testing pumps. he swallows the hiss threatening to spill from his lips, chuckling instead at the intense look in your eyes as it follows his hand movements.
you were by far the most compliant girl he’s ever had, someone who’d rather stay than escape. his methods of forcing someone into submission worked extremely well with you. so really, how can he let go of his glorified little pet?
“you’re not lying to me, aren’t you? i got hurt, you know, with what johnny said… i guess i was doing something wrong.”
“no!” your reply is immediate. “no, that’s not true—”
hands wrap around your throat like a vice. “how about you prove it to me, love? tell me everything i want to hear.”
now, this is easy. you’ve practically memorized everything you need to tell him to boost his ego. it doesn’t even take much of an effort.
“i love your cock so much that my body hurts. it hits all the right places inside of me and i will never even dream of wanting another man because they won’t be able to fuck me like you do.”
you feel giddy when he smiles that satisfied smile, your toes curling in anticipation as he leans in to give his obedient darling a kiss—
until he shoves your face down the water.
it doesn’t take much effort to wrestle your limbs down and insert himself into you, groaning at the feeling of your lush and moist walls sucking him in. you’re always so damn wet when he fucks you, oh how much he loves it. loves how tighter your cunt wraps around him as you squirm and fight him to get to the surface of the half-filled tub.
it was only after a few deep thrusts did he relent and pull you up, the few hair clips in your hair floating in the water around as you gasp greedy amounts of air. one look at taeil’s face pulled in ecstasy is enough for you to know it was well worth it.
maybe being rejected by his soulmate was a blessing in disguise. maybe the disobedience of every girl he took before you had been deliberately well-planned. or else he’d never would’ve met you.
taeil was right. all the soulmate and soulmark shit is utterly useless and stupid. because you are by no means his soulmate, but fuck he’ll never let you go.
not when your destiny is to lay there underneath him, taking whatever it is that he gave you like a good little whore.
#yandere nct#nct imagines#nct scenarios#yandere taeil#yandere nct 127#taeil imagines#taeil scenarios#taeil smut
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Arrow's Horizon
This is a fic that has risen due to a fic idea posted on this A03 site. Oliver becomes a dad to William, is a husband, still gets shipwrecked, leaving behind a wife.
Chapter 1 Home base - Oliver finds out he is a dad. Fears losing Felicity
In this story, Felicity is only 2 years younger than Oliver. The chapters are roughly 4 pages each (using word)
This is a completed story. The next chapter will be published in 3-4 days and the others will be on some set time table.
Chapter 1 Home Base
Felicity finds Oliver exactly where his mother said he’d be. His favorite thinking spot. Located at the outskirts of his family’s estate. Sitting on a tree stump overlooking a stream that is generously full due to the recent rainstorm. She knows he can hear her make her way towards him. He doesn’t skip a beat as he continues pitching rocks upon the body of water as the silence between them endures.
Finding a log nearby. She waits to be acknowledged.
Coming to Starling City for a few days during a weeklong school break. Oliver had her come here to meet his family. Now that they are more than just friends. Their next stop is Las Vegas to officially meet her mom. Everything is moving nicely she thinks. She really, really likes him.
Felicity doesn’t glance at Oliver as he is still throwing the stones into the flowing stream. Keeping her attention on the skips the pebble makes against the water.
Oliver had a visitor yesterday. Since then, he’s made some elaborate excuses to be alone. Giving her forced smiles. Leaving her to go to bed wondering if they were alright. Since walking onto a meeting between Oliver and some girl she has never met before. His whole demeanor is of someone who now has the whole world on his shoulders.
They both are known to need time to process whatever ails them alone. It never boarders on more than a day. Felicity isn’t pushy in that department but being that she is here in Starling. Away from her comfort zone. She feels that Oliver needs to understand that and maybe open up to her sooner rather than later.
Oliver in a low raspy whisper finally speaks, “I’m sorry.”
Felicity now able to see him clearly notices the red eyes. She has never in their time of acquaintance seen him cry. He is usually so upbeat.
“Oliver?” She wants to add something else, but the words don’t flow out fast enough as her boyfriend falls to his knees before her. It isn’t a romantic scene where one would see in a movie. No. This moment is in some ridiculous romantic flick where it looks to be the end for the couple. His name makes it out of her lips before he finally sheds some light on what is tormenting him.
“It was before you and I became a couple. I need you to know that.” She doesn’t know what he is trying to say. The confusion must show on her face as he clarifies, “You know that time I went out with the guys because I finally ended it with Laurel?”
She nods. Felicity was the creator of his moodboard for almost a month of listening to Oliver count the pros and cons of his relationship with his high school sweetheart. So many images, pieces of text hung on a board to help him visualize his desires. Going to college has opened his views on what he wants in life. If truth be told. Meeting Felicity has curbed a good faction of his partying ways.
“I was finally free.”
Not knowing where he is going with all this, “Okay.”
“I messed up.” He swiftly gets up and begins to walk away which has Felicity almost ready to bolt after him. When he stops and walks closer to her. She can breathe slightly easier as it looks that his intent is to pace back and forth as he continues his story.
When he finally gets to the part of his dilemma that has her gasp in shock. He knows he is about to lose the girl that owns his heart. He is scared shitless. Even so, he owes her the truth.
Oliver’s been out here alone thinking of how his life is going to dramatically change. Scared of losing Felicity Smoak to a mistake that he’s been regarding for the last few hours with a heavy heart.
Finding out Samantha Clayton is pregnant with his child. Coming to him knowing she is going to keep his baby. Everything changed in a blink of an eye. He is going to be a father.
Oliver finally stops pacing to face the music. He tells her everything.
In an unsteady breath knowing that whatever answer Oliver has could change everything, “What does this girl require of you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Does she require you to try and playhouse with her? Is it financial?”
“We didn’t discuss anything in detail. Just…”
“That she is pregnant with your baby.” He nods.
“Felicity, I know this shifts how you’ll feel…” Her hand goes up to indicate for him to stop. He still adds, “I am so very sorry.”
She knows he is. In her heart she knows Oliver would never do anything to inflict pain on her. They got to know each other since meeting in a library. His inability to guide himself around a library's catalogue made her have pity on him. Turning her into the friendly guide that opened his world to library books. Nothing like the beginning of a friendship while teaching him how to identify and use a call number to find a specific book.
His sincerity pulls on her heart strings. Like him, she’ll need some alone time.
It doesn’t change the fact of how she feels. She is truly, madly, deeply in love with Oliver Jonas Queen. If bringing her here to meet his parents is any indication. His I adore you, you’re remarkable, and his soft voice that he uses when they’re just being them. He is also over-the-moon with her.
“Oliver.” His reaction is to look away, so she places her hands upon his face. Making sure she can glance into those saddened eyes, “I’ll need to figure my place in all this. That is if you’ll still want me in your life.”
He is up from his kneeling position, “Of course, I want you. I just don’t deserve you.”
Jumping to her feet. She isn’t letting him go.
“Hogwash!” For a brief second. There is a levity in his eyes, “Forget I just said that. You know what I mean. I am not walking away from you. Not saying all this won’t be tough.”
“Its nothing like the Cooper situation. A baby is a lifelong commitment.”
“Well, if you weren’t there to pull me back. I could have been a lifelong inmate in Guantanamo Bay or some fancy cyber jail.”
He cracks a smile, “I don’t think they send blondes there.”
“I’m actually…” He can’t help but sweep her off her feet. Their lips connecting. Felicity being in his arms brings optimism that wasn’t there when he came out here to agonize over some life choices. She brings balance and with her here. He can hope.
He almost blurs out how much he loves her. Glad to have caught himself from that blunder. Saying it now could confuse Felicity. She might think it’s not sincere. When he says it. It’s got to be at the right time where the woman he loves understands his words are true.
Felicity eyeing the small gathering of pebbles Oliver piled up beside the tree stump.
“Why don’t you go back home. Your parents are worried.”
“I don’t know what to tell them.”
With a hand on his arm, she tells him to be honest. Nodding to Felicity’s words a small moment of silence stretches between them.
“Okay then. I’m going to sit here for a while. Deplete a portion of your mighty impressive pile of rocks.”
“Wish me luck.”
Giving Oliver a quick hug they depart. Oliver heads back to his family’s home as Felicity takes a seat to contemplate the new norm of what their world will entail.
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Tma + Recurring Themes
Note: This is absolutely not a comprehensive post, but simply my ramblings about what I’ve noticed as of mid-Season 4.
1. Free Will, Manipulation
This one is pretty obvious, given the prevalence of the Web, especially further into the series, along with Elias’ whole deal. Free will has never been a topic that I find particularly engaging, however TMA may be the exception, given how they use this in tandem with the running exploration of the animalization of humanity, ie instinct vs free will. This is why the Flesh and the Hunt’s existence is so crucial, they’re manifestations of humans-as-animals. I will return to free will, instinct, and manipulation later, because these are really pervasive.
2. Passivity, The Role of the Narrator
This one is one of my favorites. Though Jon’s “narrator” role becomes less central later in the series, it’s still the starting point of his character. The idea of having to bear witness to the events around you with little control except to preserve the story. To archive the events, if you will. This is very much represented in The Magnus Institute itself and how passively intellectual they are. There are so many statements where the statement giver is begging for help, but receives none. The dreams showcased in the Season Three finale really drive this point home, with Jon, literally comatose, forced to watch people suffer and die and beg for help on repeat without any way of stopping this. You may note that this inevitably can tie very nicely back into the question of free will. Furthermore, and I’ll get into this later, you can see how this passive role directly feeds into Jon’s character, as he becomes reckless and impulsive from the need to not be helpless and passive. I think this is basically said outright at some point in Season Four, but I don’t remember when or by who. This also drives home the idea of Jon as an audience surrogate, not in the traditional sense of him being bland or getting pushed around by the story, but because he is the audience. And we are the archivists. We’re the ones who hear every statement, watch everything go down, draw up our little red string boards to figure out what’s happening. But we don’t do anything to help those in the story itself, because we can’t.
3. Identity and Lose of Such
This is something we see a lot with the Entities. The idea that people are consumed by their God, leaving little of them behind. I think this is a pretty common theme in body horror, though I don’t know for sure. I think the Distortion has to be the best example of this, yes? Literally completely taking over the body and consciousness of a being to bring them into the folds of the Spiral - more or less what we see happening with the other characters touched by the Entities. The question then becomes - where does the person end and the Entity begin? Look at Melanie, her identity is so wrapped up in her anger that, when the Slaughter takes hold of her, it seems like a natural progression until it isn’t. So where does that leave Melanie? Even if you place all the blame onto the Slaughter, who are you left with? I think this works especially well given that they are characters, just a jumble of actions and traits given to them. TMA isn’t particularly meta in its horror, but a lot of what it does is directly related to the ideas of storytelling (see: There is someone controlling my actions, everything is pre-determined, and how the role of the story-teller is central to understanding the themes and characters). The Not-Them feeds into this theme as well.
4. Addiction
I’m not going to say much on this for personal reasons, but it pretty much just goes to confirm what I’ve been talking about so far. Where do you end and the addictions begin? Annabelle has a line about how addiction is directly related to the Web and loosing your control over yourself. This is at the root of Jon’s relationship to the statements, although in more of a literal sense as he kind of needs them to survive - which I assume is a literal representation of how addiction feels.
5. Mentorship
Time and time again we see this come up: Jon and Elias, Micheal Shelley and Gertrude Robinson, Martin and Peter Lucas. I think it’s also a way of showing characters grappling with lack on control on a story-level outside of the manifestations of the Web.
6. Capitalism
This is a bit more subtle because it’s more built into the story than an active theme. At the center of TMA is the magnus institute - it’s occupational horror (a lot of statements also follow people at their job having a bad time). We’re literally watching people stuck in a sole-sucking job that they can never leave because they’d die. That’s capitalism baby. This could also be related to the identity theme, as capitalism and individual identity have a very complex relationship, but that’s another rant.
7. Trauma and Trauma Responses
This is less story-scale and more about the characters, but damn! Pretty much every action these people take can be directly traced back to their trauma and that’s very smart writing. Another question of who are you without your experiences? I think this theme is most obvious in Season Two, where we are confronted with the direct trauma responses of Jon, Martin, and Tim. While in many stories you’d expect some form of trauma bonding to get an us-vs-the-world set up, instead we see infighting and them being driven away by their incompatible coping mechanisms. This is one of those sad things where you can see very easy solutions to these small-scale character conflicts, but can’t implement them (sounding familiar? It should, it’s the same thing that we talked about earlier. You are the passive listener now.) On Season Two, you can also see the Not-Them taking Sasha as a metaphor for the idea that someone can start acting like a new person after a traumatic event.
That’s all for now, stay tuned for more of Mal Sends His TMA Analysis Into The Ether
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Curiosity didn’t kill the cat | jjk ff
Part 2
jjkxreader Prompt: “You’re early,” said the grim reaper with a hint of amusement.
Fantasy au, grimreaper!jungkook, reader, romance, slow-burn
Words: 1.5k approx. Part 2/5
A/N. Omg help me, I’m doing my best to cut this story short without compromising the love story. This is just supposed to be a drabble in 3 shots but now I’m currently on the 4th. 7.7k words and counting. I hope to end it soon.
Check this out on my wattpad account! I post one part ahead there.
--
"Good morning, Sir," Jungkook greeted the man clad in white behind the humongous desk.
The man nodded back, "Jungkook, Y/n, have a seat."
You sat down after Jungkook did. If you're being honest nothing felt divine in this place. You wonder if this is heaven or just a penthouse office in Gangnam.
The man breathed in before speaking, "I pulled out Y/n's profile from the database and she's currently under your roster, Jungkook."
You looked at the two-faced grim reaper. His posture went rigid at that, as if a silent understanding of something grave.
"As she's not yet supposed to pass, as per her fate line... I still need to hand this over to the board for deliberation."
Hearing that pissed you off. So you decided for them to hear your piece, "Then what? Clearly, this is a mistake on your part. Do you take human lives this lightly? I've been hearing the same over and over. That this is not supposed to happen. I have family, friends, dreams, all of them gone in a blink. And you're passing me around like a ball. To a person of authority, to this committee, to be deliberated. I didn't know heaven is this bureaucratic ass much like humanity."
Jungkook gasped at your slander of the higher ups, much more on the expletive word you used to describe Heaven.
He stared at you in shock and worry, his eyes begging you to apologize. For him, your words and actions are much as well as his. You're in his roster. Meaning... if he failed to deliver you to the Gate before the 7 Trials, he'll be one soul short. He won't be able to leave this limbo. Forever. He got 10 souls left out of 700 that he's supposed to guide to Afterlife. You must not piss off a spirit guide.
You just raised a brow at Jungkook. His face painted red out of anger.
He suddenly stood up and bowed to the man. "Apologies, Sir. She must still be in shock. I may have failed to brief her enough before this meeting," he explained, still head down.
"I ask for your kind understanding, Sir," he followed.
The man waved his hand and let out a chuckle. "It's fine, it's fine. I've heard worse."
"Please, take your seat, Jungkook."
In which Jungkook followed.
The man turned to you, breathing in, "Y/n. How entitled of you to think that this is Heaven. We're still on Earth, but aren't. We are your messenger before the Afterlife. Heaven's still a long long way."
"I need to know first if your case is entwined with another fate line," he paused, thinking of a way to explain it in simpler terms.
"There's much more behind the dimensions known to humanity. This world, the universe, is a series of strings. Each called a fate line. Relatively, you have diverted from your path. You may choose to continue on the one you're travelling now or go back at the crossroad and live out your life."
"I can still go back?" you confirmed. The man nodded. "It's just like untangling your fate line, bringing it back to its place. It's not easy, but it's doable."
"How? How can I do that?" you eagerly asked. He breathed out and leaned back on his chair.
"Let the water flow its course first. I promise you I'll figure it out. For now, you have to stay under Jungkook's protection. You're living as a spirit for now, but your energy may attract unwanted beings. Humans are safe from them because they're in an unconsumable form."
At this Jungkook nodded. "I can feel it. She's like a meat flavored tofu to the roaming souls."
You winced at his metaphor.
The man clasped his hands as he gave his dismissive remark, "You'll receive a call, Jungkook. Keep Y/n safe until then. Give me 2 Julian weeks at most."
When the grim reaper stood up, you followed suit. Jungkook bowed and thanked the spirit guide. "That's generous of you, Sir. I know how busy you are. Thank you for your time."
When you didn't pay the same respect, Jungkook pulled your hand down, forcing you to bow. "Thank you," you muttered.
As you both turned back to the door, the man watched you intently. Jungkook's hand clasping yours. He let out a sigh as he looked above. "What now?"
The door fell shut as he thought he could only stall time.
--
Jungkook and you whirled out of a cobblestone wall. To him, passing through a wall seemed nothing, but to you, it's a wonder. You stared back where you came from before bumping to his back.
"Ow," you winced, massaging your nose.
He passed you to the other side of his back, his left arm caging you.
"Stay close," you heard him whisper. Out of curiosity, you peeked over his shoulder only to find a hideous ghost. Her hair sticks out in all places, large veins protruding around her eyes. Its color dilated in black at the desire to get to you.
If you still have a beating heart, you might have passed out then and there.
Your grip on Jungkook's coat tightened. He casted out a scythe on his right hand as he pulled a phone from his pocket to call someone.
"Taehyung, I found your assignee. She's here outside Jongno HQ."
After the call, Jungkook stepped back, thinking the roaming soul wouldn't dare to challenge a grim reaper.
But she stepped forward, garbling noise falling out of her mouth. Her grimy hands reaching out. She disappeared in front of him then you felt a pair of cold hands grabbing you from the back of your neck. You yelled in horror as Jungkook spun around whirling out a whip to cuff her hands off you. The being retreated as she let out a blood-curdling scream. You couldn't bring yourself to look. Your head buried in Jungkook's chest as you held on to him for your dear life – ironically.
His other arm wrapped around you. "Don't face her," he muttered as he snapped the whip back to scythe, pushing back the roaming soul back with an invisible force. It sent her flying a few feet back.
Taehyung arrived just in time to rope in his assignee.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I told you I'd find you. Nice choice of hunting grounds. In you go," he then pushed the unruly soul to the wall. He quickly sent a salute to Jungkook and followed right after into the headquarters.
Silence passed but your breathing's still ragged. You've been staring at the pavement for you could only remember her face, her hands reaching out to you, when you close your eyes. You could still feel her cold hands at the back of your neck. You flinched when Jungkook tried to soothe you. His hand caressing the spot where you were grabbed awhile ago.
"I'm sorry. Ghosts like her usually wouldn't dare. She seemed out of it," he muttered. You broke down, your knees wobbling, and you cried your heart out.
What did I do wrong to deserve this?
You died out of some mistake, what now of the people and things you left behind? You still have hope to go back if not another starving soul would get to you before the man on the penthouse figure everything out. Your whole life depends on a grim reaper whose job is to take souls.
The irony.
I don't deserve this.
You thought as you shook your head. Jungkook crouched down, concern filled his eyes. He called your name calmly.
Then again, in a whisper.
You looked up to him with your tear-stained face, your eyes and nose red from all the crying. He held your face in his hands as he wiped away your tears, tucking your hair away from your face.
Then he said, "I'll protect you at all costs. My life is in your hands as much as yours is in mine. Trust me," his eyes filled with sincerity.
--
At a beep, the door to his apartment unlocked. He ushered you in. His place is overlooking the Han river. It's minimally designed, wood and stones adorned the space. A sleek leather sofa served as the centerpiece of the living room you just entered.
He then led you to a door, "You can stay here with me. Here's my bedroom," he said as he entered.
"Excuse me?"
"Why?" he asked.
You didn't want to come off as an old-fashioned lady. You slept with your friend, Jimin, with no malice at all. But this... the man before you is a stranger. It feels weird.
"I... I can take the couch," you replied instead.
He nodded nonchalantly. "Okay, if that's what you want."
"I'll give you a duvet," he followed.
"Thank you," you uttered.
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