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heylittleriotact · 16 days ago

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💐WIP WEDNESD-ENEVER 💐

@emmg asked for a WIP so here's a chunky one. It's also spicy. Under the cut for length.

I wanted to elaborate on what I imagined Emmrich and Rook banging in a coffin was like. So....

Pairing: Emmrich x Female Rook

Rating: Explicit

Casket Spray:

A large, ornate floral arrangement that sits on top of the casket. It is usually the centrepiece of the funeral flower display.

“What I said the night we had that argument…” she trailed off, not sure what else to say. Was it stupid? Obviously. She knew that even before she got unceremoniously thrown into Solas’ prison in the Dread Wolf’s place. Was it upsetting? Very - for both of them. Reiterating that now would be pointless. “It feels like it was just yesterday for me, but it was over a fortnight for you.” She squeezed Emmrich’s hand tighter and sidled even closer to him on the stair that they were occupying in a quiet corner of the Necropolis.

It wasn’t that she was afraid that at any moment she might be dragged away from him again - this time for good, except, well… that was actually exactly what she was afraid of.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.”

That was the sentiment she ended up settling on. Thin and somewhat trite, even to her own ears - she had little doubt that he could see through it too. She might as well have told him it wasn’t his fault.

She just hoped he understood that she wasn’t solely referring to rescuing her from the Fade.

And… there it was - that smile: effortless and comforting by virtue of its existence alone.

His cheeks were once again clean-shaven (Amina’s gentle suggestion that maybe he should give the beard a chance was politely rebuffed), and his hair was washed and neatly coiffed as usual. One would never guess by looking at him now that only a few hours earlier he looked like a man on the very brink of insanity.

Over her.

Over a few poorly chosen words uttered out of fear and pain. Over being plunged into the sudden reality that those might have been the last words exchanged between them.

Something deep within her stirred at the knowledge that he had been so undone by what had happened at Tearstone Island. If she’d had any doubts that his affections towards her were genuine, they were long gone. There were no lengths that he wouldn’t have gone to in order to retrieve her from that prison, and as flattering as that fact was, she was grateful that Emmrich had not ultimately been called to challenge his definition of what was ‘right’ in this scenario…

People probably wouldn’t have understood…

People probably wouldn’t have liked it.

And he was nothing if not palatable, right? What with his deliberate togetherness that he presented to the world: a reassurance in and of itself.

Take that away though…

Watchers were indeed oath-sworn caregivers of the living and the dead, but their approachable, kind nature was of a deliberate sort designed specifically to foster trust. Beneath that compassionate altruism, they were fundamentally guardians and protectors… and they were capable of staggering violence. One only had to consider the damage Johanna nearly caused to understand that a Watcher willing to operate outside the boundaries of their oath was dangerous.

Her beloved Emmrich was no different in that respect, though she was probably one of the few who knew it.

And still he had made a point earlier of talking her down from naming Solas as a ruined spirit and vowing to destroy him for his betrayal and cruel manipulation…

She wasn’t sure if this section of the Necropolis was particularly drafty this evening, but she felt the small hairs on her arms raise slightly and forced her mind away from such thoughts.

Instead, she thought about how much she loved him. The way his eyes glittered cleverly in the light of the veilfire, and the soft shape of his lips. He was looking at her like she was the center of the universe, and she knew that she didn’t want to go anywhere without him for the rest of her days: she wanted to see his face in the morning when she opened her eyes, and when each day was done, she wanted the last thing she tasted to be those soft, slightly pouting lips.

She’d see to it that he never felt alone or unwanted again: she would want him always.

She wanted to come back here to the Necropolis when all was said and done and make a home with him and Manfred. The three of them would be so happy together.

And… oh.

Her breath caught as a new thought stole into her mind.

In time - if they desired it - she could cease imbibing the weekly tonic she’d taken for so many years to ensure her monthly cycle. His seed would quicken within her and they would create a child borne of their loving union - blood magic in its purest and most literal form: a legacy crafted of their own flesh. And Manfred would make such a fine big brother with a little sibling to dote on…

Her stomach flip-flopped as arousal curled up through the very marrow of her bones and set a fire deep within her belly. Of course when she was young she’d thought she’d like to be a mother one day, but she’d given up on genuinely putting any thought to such an aspiration years earlier: she never thought she’d find someone who’d truly want her.

Now Elgar’nan and Solas were the only ones in the way of such a future. It was so close she could practically taste it…

She swallowed roughly, feeling her heart hammering away in her breast as the future unveiled itself in Emmrich’s eyes and she burned for him with an imminent need to be united with him utterly.

They might die tomorrow, after all…

“Amina? Are you alright, darling? You look as though you’re a million miles away.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she nuzzled into his hand.

“I’m sorry, love.” She dragged herself back to reality with a smile. “I’m listening.”

“I was just saying how relieved I am that you’re safe.”

And he was. He really, really was. Amina suspected he had been counting each of her breaths since she tumbled out of the Fade; kept an eye on the steady thrum of her carotid artery when he could glimpse it just for the visual reminder that she had a pulse and was in fact alive and not just a figment of his grief addled imagination the way Varric had been for her.

“I did have someone to come back to.” She took his hand and stood.

She gently pulled Emmrich to his feet too and rocked up onto her toes, rising through her knees – up into her hips… lengthening her spine until she could press her lips to his, kissing him and putting all of her devotion and love and fear and sorrow into it along with all of her hunger and yearning.

When she drew back, the sight of that hunger reflected back at her drove a small gasp from her - it wasn’t an exclamation of surprise, but rather the sound one might make when they find themselves suddenly breathless upon viewing a deeply moving piece of art.

He had apartments in the upper levels of the Necropolis - as did she - but when one considered their surroundings – this quiet, esoteric corner of the wing and the privacy that had clearly been paid for; the fact that this was an owned but unoccupied plot… and the individual it belonged to was suddenly kissing her again – his intent was clear.

Her fingers twisted into his soft hair and a sumptuous moan rumbled through from him at her touch. Her jaw slackened and his tongue swept past her lips with a desperation that would have shocked her if she hadn’t been privy to the knowledge that he thought she might be dead for the past two weeks.

Then he was walking her back, back, back, and she offered no resistance, feeling herself bump up against the raised stone sarcophagus in the center of the room. She didn’t need to remove her lips from Emmrich’s to spare a look, nor did she need to remove her hands from his to spare a touch: she knew that the stone wasn’t humble lime - none of the monuments in this section were: they were all at least marble or high-grade granite. She’d stared at the classic, hexagonal shape of the sarcophagus while he was telling her about Hope and Devotion, and as he talked her down from her determination to destroy Solas for his betrayal. She’d stared at it for long enough this evening to mark it as a monument hewn of coveted blue granite from the Anderfels. It had to have cost a fortune – interesting for a man so terrified of his eventual death to sink so much gold into it, she had thought at one point.

She captured his lower lip between her teeth as she leaned against that monument and posed a wordless question as she bit down gently: Are we really doing this, love?

He whined in response as she worried at his lip, soothing the sting of her bite, his slender long-fingered hand slipping around her waist and splaying across her lower back to bring himself close and erase any space between them.

The familiar and welcome sensation of his hardening length pressed against her in spellbound and equally silent answer: If it pleases you, dearest.

Every day it seemed he found a new way to surprise her. She shivered at the thought of how many other surprises might await them…

It wasn’t that they both knew that this section - regardless of how serene it was - was ultimately open to the public and anybody could happen by them at any time, though that had its own ribald appeal…

No, it was for the very fact that Emmrich I-Choose-My-Words-Carefully Volkarin did nothing accidentally and left no room for coincidence when his actions were called into question. He was just as aware as Amina that a comfortable feather bed in a warm apartment complete with a crackling fire, expensive Orlesian massage oils, and a selection of the finest wines were all things they could have within minutes should they desire them - all they needed to do was take the lift a hundred-odd levels up, and that was that.

But he wanted this.

After all, what could possibly be more sacred than making love in your eternal resting place on the eve of the end of the world?

So she shimmied up and seated herself on the edge of the sarcophagus, her legs parting so he could slot himself between them. She could feel the slickness between her thighs clinging to her underthings as she ran her hands over him, dragging his coat down his long arms.

“I love you, Emmrich.”

The words were still so new to her tongue and her ears, but it felt like her heart had been beating to the rhythm of them for her entire life.

“And I love you, my darling, precious Amina.” He shrugged out of the coat and draped it over the side of the cold stone.

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing you say that,” she grinned against his skin, kissing up his neck - tasting the slight saltiness of him and the tang of his cologne. She nibbled at his earlobe and he tensed against her, another pained little gasp slipping past his lips.

Unable to bear it anymore, she gathered him to her, wrapping her legs around his waist in a fluid movement that sent them both tumbling backwards into the soft velvet lining of the sarcophagus - it was surprisingly soft: quilted and down-filled. There was even a pillow at the head end - a proper one with a silk slip trimmed with scalloped lace, also probably down-filled… not one of those dreadful thin ones filled with wood shavings that offered little to no support for the reposed decedent when it came to the purpose of viewing them.

Indeed Emmrich appeared to have spared no expense when it came to the question of quality and craftsmanship of his final resting place - or was it more accurately theirs now? Destined to be put to use sooner rather than later depending on the outcome of tomorrow?

Most married couples shared the space of an owned crypt but each had their own sarcophagus or niche based on what they could afford. But as Amina’s lungs filled with oxygen, and her rib cage expanded, and she and Emmrich suffused into the cramped space, filling it completely with their bodies and limbs, she decided that the existence of things like space and stone between them for eternity simply wouldn’t do.

No, whichever one of them went first would rest in gentle repose in this exact spot, patiently waiting until the day when the heavy gilded lid was slid aside and a second set of remains were introduced, lovingly deposited and tucked in alongside the other: a cold, rigored hand posed with experienced fingers would lovingly cradle a dry, waxy chin; a leg would be positioned delicately over a fragile lower torso, bony fingers artfully arranged to look almost like it lovingly stroked the recently embalmed flesh of a thigh that would maintain its weight and mass for a few years at least.

Their heads would be gently maneuvered - a chin tucked down here, a jaw tipped up there - to create an enduring tableau of the memory of this exact moment and the reverent, passionate kisses she was tracing along his mandibular foramen: an eternal embrace in which the passing of time was inconsequential when compared to the irrefutable and immortal permanence of their affection.

A yearning sound escaped her, urged on by the adoring vulgarities and soft praises Emmrich was whispering into her ear as they writhed against each other in the too-small space, his fingertips digging into the curve her ass, guiding her movements to help her rut needily against his thigh, each roll of her hips sending a wave of blissful sensation through her aching core.

She managed to free a hand and wriggle it down between them so she could palm his straining cock through his pants, feeling a hot wet spot against the fleshy base of her thumb where it passed over him - exhilarating evidence of his mounting anticipation.

“Your cock is perfect,” she whispered. “Beautiful… made for me...”

Emmrich’s response was a ragged groan and her hips pushed the flat of her palm against him through the fabric of his trousers as she bent her other wrist somewhat awkwardly to start coaxing his collar pin free.

Undressing in the limited space was easier said than done, but something about the obligation of their proximity caused the pooling heat in her belly to intensify with every huff of breath that skittered over her face and neck as they both twisted and groped in the tomb-light, tempering genuine attempts to gain purchase on things like buttons and clasps and ties with exploratory, wandering touches that lingered, caressed, and teased. Lips and tongues dragged over freshly revealed swaths of skin, trailing oaths and tender promises in their wake: sacred incantations that invoked the ancient magic that was responsible for the existence of this place to begin with.

Amina managed to dislodge herself from between Emmrich and the wall of the sarcophagus, and used her newly found mobility to straddle his lap: her legs might fall asleep if she stayed like this for long, but the angle it provided her allowed her to deftly finish unfastening his waistcoat and shirt.

“This shirt has about two dozen too many buttons,” she complained breathlessly as he finished with the last of the many moonstone fastenings, and Emmrich sat up to slip free of the clothing in question.

“I can’t help but notice that their presence didn’t slow you down terribly, dearest.” He regarded her with a lascivious smile as the sleeves of the shirt slid down over his numerous bracelets: it was a filthy expression that only she was privileged to bear witness to - one of lidded eyes and swollen lips quirked in a decidedly smug countenance… the perfectly combed moustache in disarray. Almost a sneer… so vastly different than the compassionate, kind face he presented to the world. It called to something absolutely feral within her – it drove her wild when he looked at her like that, and with his torso now bare and his hair slightly mussed just the way she liked it…

She managed to exercise enough patience to allow him to strip away her own shirt before returning to her self-assumed duty to taste every inch of him that she could reach. Her hips pressed against his from her place atop him, and she closed her mouth over a nipple, lingering in place for a moment to suck gently and flick the delicate gold hoop there with the tip of her tongue. She caught it with her teeth too and ever so gently tugged on it, earning a stammered exclamation from Emmrich before she began trailing kisses downward over the warm flesh of his abdomen, seeking his ribs with her lips, counting each one in her mind as she descended: five, six, seven… onto the false ones – a silly name really – eight, nine, and ten…

Her fingers curled into the layers of expensive red silk at his waist and she looked up at him then with lust-darkened eyes.

“Lay back,” she ordered, her voice a sensual husk that was not remotely lacking the authoritative cadence of a Reaper who was accustomed to being obeyed when she issued instructions to anyone this far down in the crypts.

So lay back he did, and Amina made short work of any fabrics and fasteners, freeing him into her waiting hand.

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1toreyouapart · 2 months ago

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What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

A/N: Currently unedited. Sorry. 😬 Read at your own risk, I guess. 😅 Also no word count because I’m lame.

Part 1

Part 2-Noah

"Lilly's on her way." Nicholas dropped down in the chair next to him.

Noah's heart sank into his stomach. Five years of successfully staying out of her way was about to go to shit. At first he'd done it to make it easier on her. Or so he told himself. But after five years, he had to admit it was because he was nothing but a coward, too scared to face the worst mistake he'd ever made. Hurting her. He could still see the look on her face when he'd come home that morning.

The way those brilliant blue eyes of hers, bloodshot from lack of sleep and undoubtedly hours of crying, tracked his movements as he quietly went up the stairs to take a shower. The pain etched on her face. He'd never seen her so fragile. He'd left the shower and gone downstairs, ready for her anger. Ready for the fight that he was sure was going to happen after what he'd done. Instead he'd gone down just in time to watch her pull out of the driveway. No yelling. No screaming. No crying. She just left. And he did nothing to try to stop her. He knew what he had done. The final nail in the coffin.

"I should leave. I'm not needed here."

"Stop being a fucking coward. I love you, man. But you can't run from what you did forever. Been sober for three years now and you're still too chicken shit to face her."

Ouch. He was right, but ouch. Noah had made amends with everyone he had hurt during those years he had tried to drink himself to death. But the thought of facing her fucking terrified him. Before that last year he had been sure he was going to marry her someday. Shit, even during that last year of their relationship he had been sure of it. Up until he just kept fucking it up more and more, too chicken shit to face his own demons like a grownup.

"Does she know I'm here?"

"Yes. We all promised to keep you away from her unless she wants to speak to you."

Noah grimaced. Sure, he had known deep down that they all kept in contact with her. She was like everyone's little sister. He didn't expect them to just drop out of her life, or her theirs. She'd known all but Nicholas longer than he'd known them, anyway. That didn't stop him from feeling a little hurt by them keeping it from him for so long, though. They could have been honest with him. He knew he had fucked up. He had known the second he let another woman hang all over him that night. Knew as soon as he followed her out the door instead of going straight home to the woman that had moved all the way across the country with him. Bought a house with him.

The door opened and his breath caught in his throat, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Palms sweaty he looked up, leg starting to bounce anxiously. There she stood, Jolly wrapping her up in a tight hug. Time seemed to stand still as she turned towards him, her impossibly blue eyes locking on his. No anger. No hatred. Not even a hint of an emotion in them. Just blank. Fuck.

***

Noah shifted uncomfortably, trying his best not to stare at her. Everyone was gathered in the backyard, a fire in the pit, sharing stories of Danny. All evening he had avoided being near her, though everything in him begged to touch her. It was enough to slowly drive him insane. All he wanted was to sit next to her. Hold her hand. Shit, just hold her. To hear her say his name again. But he couldn't do that anymore. He had given up that right.

Lilith's laugh filtered through everything else, and he was sure he was going to pass out right there where he sat, directly across the fire from her. Instead he took a sip of his water, if for nothing else other than a distraction.

"Noah, you have to finish telling them. I can't." Lilith interrupted his thoughts, her laughter echoing in his head. She spoke to him? Said his name? Oh, fuck.

"Jolly asked how she got the Thumbelina nickname," Nicholas whispered, knowing he had been too caught up in his head to know.

Noah smirked, remembering Danny telling him about this story on the phone that day.

"Danny stopped by when we were on tour to check in on her, like I had asked. Apparently she was too caught up in planting those flowers right back there," he gestured towards the flower bush she had planted all those years ago. "And when he said hi she threw one of the bushes at him, thinking he was an intruder." Noah couldn't help but join her in her laughter at the memory. "Danny dubbed her Thumbelina from that moment on."

Noah met her eyes from across the fire as they laughed together, and suddenly everything felt somewhat okay. There was joy back in her eyes, etched across her face. Her smile took over her face, breathing life back into her. He may not be the cause of it, but it was a sight he thought he'd never see again.

"Wait. I thought Noah gave you that nickname. Who started calling you Bambi?" Jolly interjected.

Noah choked on his water, sputtering at the nickname he had always called her. That was one of his favorite memories, though rather private. And not a story he was keen on telling without her permission. The way she had insisted that she didn't need him to help her up after the first time they'd had sex. How she had stumbled and flipped him off the second he said "You sure about that, Bambi?"

Lilith laughed. A full on genuine laugh that came from her toes. God, he had missed that sound. He had missed the way she never held back her true laugh. The way she laughed with every fiber of her being.

Jolly looked between the two of them, her unable to control her laughter, him hiding his face the best he could. Noah watched as realization set into his friends features, and quickly avoided eye contact with him.

"Awe, man! What the fuck?"

Noah couldn't hold back his own laughter anymore, joining Lilith. Jesus Christ, he had missed this. Missed her.

Tags: @haylaansmi @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

#bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #angst #noah sebastian angst #unedited #reader beware

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keeksandgigz · 11 months ago

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it's you and me (that's my whole world)- day 1 of keeks's lover house series♡

Day 1 of my Lover House Series♡

♡rockstar!eddie munson x famous!fem!reader♡

allusion of smut, r and eddie are in a secret relationship, disgustingly fluffy, kinda sad and angsty<3

"the whole school is rolling fake dice/ you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes"

You don't know how much longer you can go on with this lie.

"A PR Relationship for the ages" it was called on every single tabloid, everyone knew it was fake. Yet, you deluded yourself nobody did.

You deluded yourself that nobody knew it was to cover up the disastrous encounter with the paparazzi, catching you stumbling out of a dingy club hand in hand with Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson- your secret boyfriend. In those pictures he sported various lipstick marks on his face and neck. Your management team was furious.

To keep up the "American Sweetheart" image, you'd been persuaded to date some airhead quarterback, up and coming NFL star. And you'd tried, tried to hard to be able to establish something with this guy, but there wasn't much there there to begin with.

But you catch yourself running back to him. Every Wednesday night, he meets you at his New York apartment, adrenaline and fear thrumming within you as you enter through the back alley of his building.

Feeling safe in the comfort of his home, it's like a fortress where no one can reach you, a place where you can forget about the rest of the world and their demands and lay in his arms.

It's a swirl of lips, hands, tongues and limbs once you step foot in his door. The desperation to feel him as close as possible, starved for his touch, needing to feel him close. You seem to crave him with every fiber of your being as you often waste no time getting each other's clothes off.

Feeling the warmth of his skin, tracing the ink of his tattooed chest. He handles you with such gentleness and care that you can't fathom how a man like him could easily tarnish your image.

"Beautiful girl, missed you so much this week" he mumbles against the soft skin of your abdomen as he kisses down your body "Wednesday never comes fast enough, does it?" he chuckles, caressing the sides of your thighs, peppering kisses from the arch of your foot to your knee.

A slow tease, as it may seem, but in reality, it's just a way to make time go by more slowly, an illusion to grant yourself a longer night with him. A prayer to make your Wednesday nights never ending.

That's why you're tangled in sheets at 3 AM, while Eddie draws circles on your arm. "Y'know I don't mind having to hide, right?"

You sigh "I know, I just wish we could come clean, so I don't have to fake date that piece of shit" a gentle kiss is placed on your forehead.

"Soon, angel, I promise. M'fixing my image for you, so we can show up to your fancy events hand in hand. Everyone's gonna wish they didn't make shit up about us" he smiles, cradling your face in his hands. He is fighting sleep tooth and nail to be able to steal a glimpse, one more look, see how beautiful you look in the glowing yellow light of his side lamp.

"It's always gonna be you and me, baby" that's what he'd often say. A promise that things will eventually go your way.

It's too late to turn on the big light. So he allows himself one more touch, one more look, a caress.

Damning himself for falling victim to sleep, he looks at you one last time, already in the arms of Morpheus, as he lets himself sleep.

He doesn't hear you stir at 6 am, like clockwork. You grab your clothes and make your journey down the back stairs of the building, where your driver is waiting for you.

You look up. One day you'll get to wake up with him.

Day 2 is Reputation! Find the form here!

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #keeks's lover house series

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dreamteammemes · 5 months ago

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Out of context Gravity Falls quotes:

"Give me a hand with this coffin, will ya?"

"Sorry for accusing you of murder last week."

"I'm joking!"

"Right, like I'm gonna fall for that."

"The more you struggle the more awkward this is going to be for everybody."

"I can BUY and SELL you!"

"Aw, come on! BOO!"

"What am I doing?"

"You don't need to take your clothes off."

"Those cannibals are onto something. I taste delicious!"

"Tell my story!"

"Non-specific excuse!"

"Nice to meet you. Also, I think I am dying."

"I've been traumatized!"

"It's funny how dumb you are."

"You had me at shut up."

"I ate a man alive tonight."

"Race you to the bottom of the stairs!"

"Oh no, it's... happening."

"This is for your own good."

"My body is a temple! How dare you!"

"I AM THE GOD OF DESTRUCTION!"

"Oh no! I hope someone didn't die!"

"Too little, too late, ___."

"So this is an emergency."

"Who is it?? Have you come to steal my eyes?!"

"You're never gonna see it, ___. Never. Gonna. See it."

"Get this on tape in case I die or whatever."

"This is definitely not an accident!"

#rp sentence starters #roleplay starter #rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #gravity falls rp meme

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rpgsandbox · 1 year ago

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Announcing The Magnus Archive Roleplaying Game

Monte Cook Games and Rusty Quill, distributors of The Magnus Archives podcast, are pleased to announce the forthcoming The Magnus Archives Roleplaying Game. Enter the archives yourself, investigating the supernatural horrors found in the podcast or those you create on your own. Work alongside Jonathan and Martin, Basira, Daisy, and the rest of the staff. Encounter the NotThem, the Anglerfish, or the Man Upon the Stair. Learn the truth of the books of Jurgen Leitner, the coffin that is also a pit, and The People’s Church of the Divine Host.

The 400+ page The Magnus Archives Roleplaying Game is built on the well-loved Cypher System mechanics. The rules are specifically tailored to reflect the horror and the action of The Magnus Archives stories, with the effects of fear and stress taking a toll on characters—but also unlocking access to mysterious supernatural abilities. Using such abilities might save your life—but might also send you further into the clutches of the entities at the heart of such powers. Your character might even eventually become an avatar… but is that a good thing?

You’ll have to discover that for yourself.

Crowdfunding Soon!

The crowdfunding campaign for The Magnus Archives Roleplaying Game launches soon. Sign up to be notified of the launch and get an exclusive gift with your pledge: a Magnus Institute training audio cassette. What will you find when you put it into your tape deck and hit play?

#RPG #The Magnus Archives #Monte Cook Games #Rusty Quill #crowdfunding

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poetryandfluffycats · 2 months ago

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Monster ! - Kinktober

A/N: happy spooky season I finished this way quicker than expected so y'all can have it now

Pairing: Vampire Lord!Rei Sakuma x fem!servant!reader

Content: You, a maid in the Sakuma mansion, have been placed on direct service to the heir to the throne himself. On the night of Halloween, he calls you to his chambers.

Warnings: VERY SUGGESTIVE, servant and master dynamic, petnames(my dear, darling), biting, lots of blood mentions

Words: 2.0k

Story under cut!

Nighttime dawned over the Sakuma mansion. Fellow servants went to their quarters, the children were put to bed, and the house fell silent-save for the occasional howl of the wind outside. All was quiet in the house of the vampires.

Tip-toe, tip-toe, tip-toe. Your bare feet padded gently across the wooden floors, the red, velvety carpet of the stairs providing a nice cushioning and also protecting you from any splinters that peeked out from the old planks. This family and house had been around for centuries upon centuries, going almost as far back as the Tudor period, more so a castle than a home, and the Sakumas were the closest thing to royalty you'd ever encountered. When taking up your role as a maid, you'd been lucky to have been employed by such a generous and prestigious family.

Even luckier to be placed on direct service for the heir to the throne, Count Rei Sakuma.

Jet black hair, pearly white fangs, thin legs and a broad chest all hidden beneath layers of lace and frills, the eldest son who was yet to marry had every woman in the village wrapped around his finger, including you. He called, you came running. He wanted a glass of blood, you'd gladly offer up your own veins served in the fanciest glass in the house. He wanted a warm body beside him, you would jump into his arms no questions asked, no answers needed. Those were the simple facts of the life you lived, a life you'd be living till you dropped.

The lights of the castle were dimmed, reducing the usual glow of the hallways to a dull flicker. Only a few candles were lit at night time, usually outside the children's rooms to keep their minds at ease. You passed by the redwood grandfather clock outside the door to the library, the one that ticked silently throughout the nighttime. 3AM, the witching hour, when spirits arose and ghouls lurked outside the Sakuma doors.

It was only a rumour, but some elders of the house would whisper about how on the 31st night of the 10th month at the 3rd hour, the line between beast and human blurred, and the monsters you worked alongside would be at their deadliest.

Silly tales for young children was what you always regarded those stories as. You weren't scared of vampires or ghosts, working in the vampire kingdom would do that to you. Rei wasn't a monster, he was just a man who needed blood to survive.

"Count Sakuma? I come baring your evening drink, sir" You spoke softly through the door, knocking your fist against it three times and waiting for the response. In your hand, a glass of deep crimson, with two teaspoons of honey mixed in just as your lord liked it. "May I enter?"

There was silence from the other side of the door for a few seconds, but very quickly came the sound of rustling sheets and light groaning from the man inside. "Come in, my dear"

Darkness swallowed up the room as you entered. Rei sat still as a statue in his coffin, his body and modesty protected by a thin blanket that had pooled around his thighs when he sat up right. You had to strain your eyes to make out his figure properly, but those ruby eyes of his never failed to shine. At times you swore they were lighting up the room all by themselves, and during those times you had to mentally slap yourself for thinking such things.

Rei wasn't a monster, he was far too elegant for that. In his silk nightgown with newly washed hair falling around his shoulders and his pale skin glistening under the cracks of the moonlight through the curtain.

He was beautiful.

"Here you are, sir. I apologise if I woke you" You bowed slightly as you handed him the glass. He took it eagerly, his well-manicured fingers brushing gently against your own sending a wave of anxiety down your spine and all the way into your stomach.

Rei shrugged, pressing the glass to his lips and taking a long sip, "No bother, I shall not berate you for doing your job. Besides, I would hate to fall into slumber before getting to see my favourite servant"

You were no stranger to compliments from the Count, he did it to every woman in the building. For yourself, some of his favourite nicknames included 'darling', 'honey' and the most recent addition to the list 'my dear'.

He was a true flatterer, the ladies all ate it up like a five course meal. You could never quite fight off the urge to drop to your knees and beg him for more each time those sweet words of praise left his glossy lips. You were aware of how inappropriate that would be, and Rei was already on his fathers watch list regarding this flirtatious nature towards the staff, but a girl could dream.

Bowing once again, you felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks. Although vampires were know for their keen night vision and had the ability to sense emotions through the sound of the blood running through your veins, Rei always seemed to turn a blind eye to your embarrassing acts, acting as if he didn't even notice when your heart rate arose and your face turned a pretty shade of red-just like the liquid in his glass.

"Your compliments are greatly appreciated, my lord, but I'm not quite sure what you mean. I'm only a maid, a novice one at that. Surely I don't deserve such words" Your eyes stayed glued to the floor. It was carpeted with the finest wool money could buy, dyed the same burgundy as his eyes.

Rei tutted, waving a finger dismissively at you, "Nonsense, nonsense. Why would I call you down here if you weren't the greatest? Any kitchen hand could have easily made my drink and brought it to me, but you are the only one who makes it exactly to my taste. You are no mere maid to me"

He set the now half-empty glass down on his bedside table, shifting his legs and sitting criss-cross to make room for you in the coffin. His legs were long and his knees pressed up tightly against the walls of the small box.

"Come now, sit. Don't you think this is a wonderful night to enjoy conversation with your master?" Rei flashed a smile, his fangs peeking out from his gums. The sight sent a wave of warmth through your body, the same feeling you got when he grazed your hand with his own. "Unless, you prefer not to...?"

"No!" You accidentally yelped out, way louder than you had intended too. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you cleared your throat and lowered your tone. Get it together (name)! "Ah, I mean- no, I would love to stay"

A grin spread over the mans face, and you swore you could see his eyes twinkle just a tiny bit, "Thats a good girl"

Your hands were trembling when you climbed into the coffin beside Rei. Not out of fear per say, more so out of anticipation. You tired to ignore the hidden intent behind Reis eyes as he stared into yours, watching with too much interest as you tucked the skirt of your night dress under your legs. The orbs scanned up and down your figure like a hawk.

The air around you felt thicker in the small space. You weren't claustrophobic in any way, but in his moment you couldn't help but feel as if the world was closing in on you, leaving only you and Rei and the thumping of your heart against your rib cage. He was close, closer than he had ever been.

A shaky breath left your throat when he leaned in, his mouth just inches away from your own. The blood he just drank was still fresh on his breath, a strong stench of cooper and just the slightest hint of sweetness from the honey mixed in.

"Have I ever told you how much I love Halloween?" Rei hummed, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek. His thumb rubbed up and down on the flushed skin, his other hand being carefully placed on the nape of your neck. "Its the only night a year I may act freely on my urges, when my kind is worshipped by yours as they should be"

"Yes.... Count Sakuma, I'm failing to understand-"

"Call me Rei" He interrupted. "I have a name, I'd like for my darling to use it"

His lips were dangerously close to your neck now, leaving teasing licks all over the sensitive area. Your head was screaming at you to do something, anything! But was that something to throw him off, or to rip his clothes off? To scream and run, or to moan and beg? It was like a magnetic pull between your heart and your head were battling each other but they were both on the losing end.

All the confusion and convictions in your head came to a halt when Rei finally lost his patience and sunk his teeth deep into your flesh.

"Ah! Rei! Fuck!"

The pain was immediate and felt like a thousand needles filled with acid had been injected into your skin all at once. A burning sensation that you couldn't tell if you liked or absolutely despised. His tongue lapped up the blood that trickled out of the wound and he let out a chesty moan, the vibrations on your skin heading straight down to your core. With your eyes screwed shut and both pleasure and pain rushing through your body like the current of a raging river, the tears started to fall.

It was too much, so much. You'd never felt something so overwhelming in your entire life. Reis hand that previously sat on your cheek moved to your waist as he continued to suck, griping your skin tight and using all of his strength to pull you into his lap, pushing you downwards onto his crotch.

The sounds that left his mouth were borderline obscene, erotic, horrifying. An untamed beast had been unleashed from the depths of his soul and was feeding on you, it was a demon who only longed for the taste of a young ladies blood and the feeling of her flesh ripping apart in his mouth. This being, whatever it was, had no morals whatsoever.

You were basically a lifeless blob by the time he pulled away, gasping and pleading with noises that didn't make much sense. "Please... no more, I'm gonna pass out"

The vampire grinned, his fangs stained red and his lips swollen from excessive sucking. Blood ran down his chin and he licked it up with a pleasant hum, eyes rolling straight into the back of his skull. He was clearly in a state of pure bliss. "Good grief, it appears I've gone to far. You'll have to forgive me, its been awhile since I've indulged in feeding from the source itself"

Nodding, you pulled up one of your stiff arms to rub the wound on your neck. It stung, and two small holes remained from the bite and would probably stay there for the rest of your life.

"Are you alright? I will not hold you back if you wish to retire your position in the household, it is not my intention to make you uncomfortable" Reis voice had a hint of sadness to it, and his eyes glossed over with a certain tiredness you couldn't quite place. Had he been through this before?

You shook your head, trying to ignore the aching headache that came with it. "No! My lord-I mean Rei! This was the most intense pleasure I've ever experienced! I will not be leaving you anytime soon"

Rei grinned, a content smile that lit up your heart. You couldn't help but grin back like an idiot, and despite the fact that you were in no shape or form to move your body seemed to move on its own to press your lips against his.

"Then, I trust you will be returning to my chambers tomorrow evening?"

#enstars #ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #oneshot #ensemble stars oneshot #writers #rei sakuma x reader #rei sakuma #rei x reader #rei sakuma enstars #undead x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #undead enstars

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adventuringblind · 1 year ago

Text

Drive With You Forever

Chapter fifteen: Figuring it Out

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: The reader has a dream, books are burned, the reader gets sick again, but the doctors are nice this time!

Warnings: Every form of abuse is depicted in this story. Sickness, vomiting, fever, nightmares, panic attacks, graphic description of SA, child SA, Rape, unconsenual medical procedures, mild implied SH,

Notes: This is so long. I couldn't find a good stopping point, so I just kept going...

Previous <-

Masterlist

Why is everything so blurry?

The lights are swimming and she can't seem to find her footing. They world beauty her seeming to sway.

She blinks away the feeling, looking to find her center and figure out what’s going on.

“…test number six hundred and thirty four…” says a muffled voice from somewhere in front of her. A familiar voice at that. She hauls herself of the ground as her vision begins to clear up.

She’s still in the basement. Where did everyone else go? She scans the room in search of any sign that their comfort is near.

Her panic increases as she can’t see them. Her chest becomes heavy at the thought of being trapped here once again.

Then she sees his face. For a moment she locks eyes with him, but he passes right by here without a thought.

He keeps circling her wooden box of a bed. She must be in someone’s memory. She would says it’s her own but she doesn’t remember this. Or she does and she just locked in away.

She knew she was unconscious or incoherent enough that she could never quite tell what was happening aside from the feelings. Normally, pain. Sometimes, there were differences in textures. Occasionally, hands.

He’s working in her unconscious body. He sticks her body with all sorts of things she cannot name.

She doesn’t want to be here for this. She doesn’t want to see herself go through this. Feel those things again.

She runs runs up the stairs only to find herself back in the basement room.

There are so many people here. All of them dressed in odd looking costumes. It almost looks like a Halloween party but if the theme was pilgrims.

She sees her unconscious body again. This time layer out in the middle of the floor, bare for everyone to see.

Why are they taking turns touching her in such a way? Was the feeling of hands never just her fathers?

She feels sick. She thought the first time her body had gone through such a thing was the Max. It was different then. He was gentle and kind and he constantly asked if she was okay.

Again she makes an attempt at an escape. Again she find herself in the same room in a memory that’s not her own. Her father has been here in every single one. She assumes that it’s his memory, his connection to her amplified by her wooden coffin.

She’s sitting in the box, playing with strands of light that dance out of her fingertips. She looks at herself and there is no recognition. Her eyes are hazy and the motions feel robotic.

She’d always hated waking from these trances he’d put her in. No memory of what she’d done.

“It’s not enough! Why can’t I amplify your power?” He growls. He’s lankier in this memory then he was when he came to the paddock. His face less wrinkly and no grey hairs in sight. She must have been about ten if she remembered his appearance correctly.

Another man comes down the stares but her past self makes no movement.

“If she can’t bear a child we’ll be finished.” The figure is cloaked in darkness. His voice echoes through the room.

“I’m aware.” Her father spits.

“We need their power if we want to continue living.”

Living? She wondered at times how her father seemed to have knowledge beyond his years. The stories he’d shared about how her mother kept him young she thought was nothing more then a myth.

They are exploiting her. They need her. They need her body and power to continue to keep their supposed immortality.

How is that even possible.

“I’ve managed to make the constraints less.”

“Show me.”

She assumes that whoever this dark shadowy figure is, is in charge.

She watches as a rotten apple it placed in front of her unresponsive body. She still makes no move. Not even a sound.

“Fix it.”

Her past self obeys the command and lets the light dance around the the apple. It begins curling itself around the shape. She can feel the warmth through her own skin.

It’s beautiful in a way. How the light moves and repairs.

This time the memory fades away. The room shifting into something unfamiliar. She’d never see this place before.

It’s a wooden building. It feel hollow and smells of mildew. The men from before are once again dressed up, but they all look different.

They are doing what they did to her. Their terrible ritual. The women’s body in the center is unconscious, but she looks far different from her mother.

Aside from the hair. She’d seen picture of her mother. Their hair practically identical and now this woman’s is as well.

They take her apart as well. It's strange how they drink the crimson leaking from her. Her father was a human as far as she was aware. So why were these people acting like vampires?

Something, a woman’s voice, warm and kind, tells her to watch these men. Each one that takes instantly becomes younger. Any hints of wrinkles gone. Their hair becomes full and vibrant.

Then the scene vanishes.

Everything is dark and she doesn’t want to be alone in it.

The voice calls her further in, and she wastes no time sprinting towards it. The abyss seems to never end.

The voice gets louder as a ghostly figure comes into view. It’s familiar and it’s kind.

It’s her mother.

She halts in front of it. Just an arms length away.

“I can feel that you’re frightened. There is no need to fear me.”

“But you died.” Her voice is shaky and confused. She feels so small in comparison to the figure.

“It’s a connection we all share.”

“What are we?”

“Witches I suppose. Maybe a deity of some kind.” She shrugs. “You’ve been so strong to face this alone.” The ghost reaches to touch, and she finds herself leaning into it. It’s not cold but comforting.

“How were you making them younger?”

“It’s something inside us. Some drink out blood, others use sex, and when strong enough, it can even come from just a touch with someone you have a strong connection with.” She explains.

“What about my other powers then? Could you do that too?”

“That, unfortunately, was your fathers doing. The healing comes from your bloodline, the rest is something I don’t understand.” She sighs with a hint if exasperation. “I’m sorry, that I haven’t been there. You’ve managed to suppress more then I would’ve imagined.”

“I’m sorry I killed you.” Her eyes find her feet. The shame of why she is this way creeping back in.

The ghost leans down to her. “That was not your fault. That could’ve never been your fault and there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it. We’re not immune to death.”

She feels herself being dragged away and into the void. “No!” She screams. “Don’t leave me!”

The ghost reaches out to her one last time and kisses her forehead. She feels an energy she’s never had before flowing through her veins. It’s not scary though, it’s welcoming. “I’ve always been here and I’m not going anywhere.”

She can’t even register the tears as she falls into the void. The once welcoming feeling now morphing into the ones she felt earlier.

Hands. Needles. Whispers. Breaths. Knives. Teeth.

An endless fall into the fear she knows so well.

Lando is still awake despite everyone’s best attempts to get him to sleep. He’d been awake for almost twenty four hours. His eyes are heavy and he wants to succumb to sleep so badly, but he can’t. His mind refuses to stop thinking about every possibility.

This is why he’s able to react to the ear-piercing scream so quickly. While everyone else is stumbling around, he’s taking the stairs by two. Hanna told them to stay out of the room and let her rest meaning they were stuck in the downstairs room.

Of course Seb is at the door before him.

Seb opens in and Lando is bounding over to the distressed female. Her hands are clawing at her own skin to the point she’s drawing blood. Her eyes are screwed shut and her legs are trying to move her away from something even though she’s not getting far. Eventually she hits the headboard.

“Y/N, it’s me, open your eyes please love your safe now.” He whispers. It comes out shaky because he’s distressed but he knows he needs to keep himself as calm as possible.

Seb stands at the side of one of the beds. She’s feeling for an exit and will fall off if she keeps it up. He lets Lando soothe her. His whispers helping the screams to die out.

The other three appear in the door as well. Only for a few seconds though before they’ve dispersed to grab things.

Finally Lando coax’s her into opening her eyes. She’s still rubbing at her skin, clawing lines into it, but she sees him. “There you are.” He smiles at her. Her breathing is still massively uneven, but she lets him get a little closer. “Can I come over to you?”

She just stares at him. Then she just breaks into sobs. Her body freezing in its place as she attempts to curl even further into herself.

Whether she wants it or not, Lando is crawling own to her. Pulling her body into his chest and protectively wrapping him arms around her. She did this for him too. It’s where he learned it actually. She told him that ‘sometimes when we want to make ourselves small, it’s nice to have someone much to protect us’ so they all did it for each other.

She had no mercy on her skin and he’s thankful when Max comes in with bandages.

She starts trying to flail her body and fight them as they get them on her. Lando is constantly reassuring her through the whole ordeal.

Charles is the one to suggest music. Another noise for her to focus on while they try and get her cleaned up. He throws on his recorded piano songs that she’d taken pride in watching him create.

She does relax at the sound. Reduced to just choked sobs now.

Seb had to go check on his own children. They’d woken to the sound and had worried. He’d gone to reassure them with Hanna that everything is going to be alright with their sister.

She tires herself out in Lando’s arms. No tears left to cry despite her body attempting. “I remember." She croaks.

All of them freeze. They don’t push her to continue but they attempt to get comfortable. She uncurls herself but still clings to Lando like her life depends on it.

Oscar is drowsy from having his sleep interrupted and Lando can clearly see it on his face. His head goes into Charles’ lap and the Monegasque looks down at him endearingly.

Max is across from her but holding hands with the Monegasque like he’d been doing since Charles started trying to close himself off.

“Take whatever time you need, chéri.”

She has yet to look at any of them completely. Her face still mostly hidden in Lando’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

They all look at her confused. Then at each other for some sign that one of them know why she would apologize. Then back to her with no answers.

“Why are you apologizing?” Lando whispers into her hair.

Her nails attempt to find her skin again but Max catches her in the act. He now sets himself beside her and lets the girl play with his fingers. Charles slips off a couple of his rings for him. She’d been fascinated with them and messed with them to keep her hands busy.

Her hands did it without Max even having to guide her. Though the rings don’t fit anywhere but his pinky.

“Do you remember Max, when you took me when is was just us two. Still no idea Charles would be joining us in a month and completely clueless?”

“Yes, it was a miracle I lasted as long as I did. How could I ever forget that.” He smiles at her.

She inhales shakily. “You weren’t the first.” She confesses. All four of them now understand what she’s meaning. They’d seen the videos. Why someone would ever record that was beyond them. They planned to burn the laptop if and when she said the could.

She looks directly at him now. “I feel gross.” The empty tear ducts only leave her with small drops of liquid. “I feel violated and like I’ve lied to all of you.”

“You have done nothing wrong here. You are a victim.” Max stops her before she can get any farther. “What they did to you was wrong and unforgivable.”

“We found videos and images on his laptop, amour. We saw.”

Lando can feel her starting to hyperventilate again as she struggles to get out of his hold. “We skipped anything that had you in it. It made us all sick and we couldn’t do that to your privacy. We did listen to your fathers monologues though.”

She instantly calmed down again. Her hands once again finding the rings on Max’s fingers.

“There so much more. Everything that I am. Everything I can do.” She hold her hands up for them to see and the mesmerizing glowing lights appear once more. “I’d forgotten about this. It’s beautiful. And it’s completely mine.”

“What do you mean by completely yours?” Oscar asks with a yawn. He’s exhausted but still trying to remain present for her.

“I saw memories of those who came before me. I’m some sort of magical being I think and it’s been passed down for generations. The healing and gift of immortality is mine. That’s from my bloodline. Everything else is the work of my father in order to expand on that trait and bring my mother back.” She explains. Even though the story is tragic, she seems at piece with knowing. Like she able to understand herself better now.

“Immortality?”

“My bloody and body heal. It has the ability to give back someone’s youth. That’s why they need me back, they’re aging now.” Once again, the feeling of hands crawls around her skin. She shivers lightly and tries to keep herself grounded.

“I couldn’t control it before now. My father had to go through extensive procedures before I could be of use to them. It’s like I turned it off. But I have it now if I want it. Or if I’m unconscious, I suppose.”

“We want to burn the laptop and some of the journals if you’ll allow us.” Proposes the Brit. He’s not sure that she’ll. Say yes, it maybe the comfort of the idea will help her to stay calm.

“Can we do it now?”

Seb and Hanna meet them outside at the fire pit. The kids once again tucked away into bed.

The fire is already raging. Books and computer in hand.

“They tried to burn us. Maybe this completes the circle in a way.”

They all take turns tossing things in and watching it go up in flames.

As her family locks hands with each other, she knows everything will be okay.

It most certainly doesn’t feel like it right now and she has more fighting to do.

But they’ll be next to her, fighting with her, every step of the way.

The very idea that a cult is after them sends Max's thoughts into overdrive. He wanted to go downstairs and discuss with everybody, but a certain Australian is clinging to him like he'll die if he doesn't.

Him and Oscar sleep the most out of the five. This is what he's become used to since he started staying with them. Mornings where the Aussie are curled up into him have become something he looks forward to.

Currently, however, he knows he'll have to wake him up if they are going to be productive today.

Max makes an attempt at escape but ends up just pulling Oscar with him. He mumbles and shifts a bit before opening his own eyes.

"Morning sleepy head."

"It's too early." Disgruntled groans follow the statement.

Max lets out a breathy laugh. "I know, you can go back to sleep if you want."

"But you're leaving."

"Would you rather me carry you?"

Max didn't know what he was expecting, but walking down the stairs with a sleepy Australian on his back wasn't it.

The fact that the sight brought a smile to the faces of all his lovers made the effort worth it. They join the other three at the table. Oscar looks like he might fall asleep on the table.

“How are you feeling?” He asks toward the female. She’s playing with her food and sitting with her knees tucked into her chest.

“She hasn’t kept food down yet.” Sighs Charles who’s sitting next to her. She scrunches up her nose when he says it.

Max nods his head. The ever looming sickness strikes again. “I think we should move.”

“Again?!” Lando rolls his eyes. Max already knows how much the Brit hates moving. They’ve moves so much the last few years that he’s come to despise it.

“Well, kind of.” Max leans back in his chair and the other four eye him expectantly. “I think we should closer to Seb and Hanna but also keep the Monaco apartment. That way we’ll always have somewhere to come back too.”

“Logical idea.” Oscar says to the table. "We could do that during summer break since it's coming up soon."

"For now, we need to decide if we should stay here or go back to Monaco."

The female looks at her food and then back at them. "I love it here, but I think Hanna and Seb wouldn't appreciate us doing things in their house."

"What does that have to do with this?" Asks Lando. Innocent. Pure actual innocence.

"Because someone can only go so long."

Charles eyes to female cautiously. She'd yet to keep anything down. Reduced to dry heaving every few minutes.

"You don't have to sit on the bathroom floor with me."

"Mm true. But I want to." He runs his fingers along her spine. It’s the only comforting feeling she has to cling to at the moment. Even as she’s back to heaving up nothing, he’s still comforting her.

When it passes, Charles leans her back against his chest. “Do you think it’s your powers?”

“Honestly? No.” Charles hums. He doesn’t push her to continue. He just continues to give her a feeling to ground herself with; his fingers now finding hers as she goes to play with his rings. “It’s the memories. Knowing what actually happened to me. It doesn’t feel real but I can’t escape the feeling of hands that I didn’t want on me.”

She heaves again. Harder this time then previously. Like somehow speaking it made it real and more intense. She leans back into him. “It’s not fair, Charlie. Especially to you four. How are we supposed to live like this?” Her voice is so broken. It’s a sound that will haunt him.

“Will figure it out, Mon amour. But first I think we need to get sustenance in your body.”

“What’s the point?” She groans. “It’s just going to come back up. I would eat anything if it meant I could keep it down.”

“I think I might have an idea.” Charles smiles down at her and kisses the top of her head.

Ice cream is his idea. The boys went out to get it and were diligent in avoiding people. The thought of their trainers finding out keeping them from just walking around like normal people.

Charles had dragged Max with him while the other two stayed behind to look after the female.

"I feel like we're on a secret mission."

"And yet you're drawing attention to yourself by ducking around the corners."

"Andrea will have my head if he finds out about this."

It took them an hour to get back. and things had gotten worse when they did.

Lando greets them at the door. They are thankful the Seb and Hanna took the kids out for the day. having the house to themselves makes this a bit easier.

"Oscar is attempting to force water down her throat. It's getting worse." There is a certain anxiety in the Brits voice that Charles can't ignore.

"What do you mean worse?" Max beats him to the question.

Lando runs a hand through his curls. "She's spiked a fever, and she passes while you two were done." He bounces on the balls of his heels. "Also, she keeps muttering in her sleep and it's starting to freak me out."

The three make their way up to the female. Charles grimaces at the sight. She's panting and drenched in sweat.

Lando is right. He can see her mouth moving frantically. Her eyes flicker back and forth behind shut lids.

"She fell asleep again. I got some water in her before she did." Oscar looks at her nervously. It's the same look he has whenever she's not doing well. Now they know better than to force him away from her. Last time they tried he didn't speak to them for a day.

"I hate to say it, but we're gonna need to find a way to get fluids in her consistently." Max sighs heavily. They all know it's necessary but taking her back to the doctors comes with so many risks.

"What about a private doctor?"

"Even then it would be risky."

Max ponders. They need to think of something or risk her dying of dehydration. "We'll try the emergency room and hope they are so busy they won't pay close attention to her bloodwork. like the did the first time."

Lando didn't think pulling Oscar away from her would be so damn difficult. He's been running the opposite direction of anything medical related since he got out of the hospital.

"Osc, it's just a few minutes to they can get her set up in a room." He tries to reason with the younger. "How about we go get some air and we can talk about this."

The Aussie finally gives in, letting his arm go slack. Lando almost falls over at the sudden lack of resistance.

He jumps on the opportunity to guide him out of the building. He keeps their fingers interlocked. Lando couldn't care less if the vultures pounce on them. He desperately needs to get them away from the anxiety inducing building until they can see her.

Charles or Max would probably be batter at calming him then Lando. But Max was the one who went back with her since he knows her medical history like the back of his hand and has the excuses they planned to use if anyone got suspicious. Charles is on the phone with Seb talking about what's going on.

That leaves Lando. The most anxious out of all of them.

"Wanna talk about what's going on in your head?" They continue walking, hopefully the air will do them both good even if it's a parking lot.

"It's hard to explain." Oscar admits. "It was terrible being drugged out of consciousness. And I thought I was dreaming, but she came to check on me. She bargained for my safety." Lando can feel Oscar's hands starting to relax a bit. He's not fighting so hard anymore. "Then, when we started to try and make our way out, she saved me again. She was exhausted and I had to carry her at one point but it was so cold and damp and dark. I just never want to leave her like that again."

Lando thinks back to when he stumbled across them. How Oscar kicked and screamed at them, the females body in his protective grip. Somehow, they'd kept each other alive, and now Oscar feels the effects of the trauma that has bonded them together.

Lando stops them next to a relatively secluded part of the lot. He spins around and places his hands on either side of Oscar's face. "I promise you that we're never going to let that happen again. We're going to figure this out. What they did to you both is not something I'll say I understand, but I hear you. You and her are safe, and we're going to do our best to keep it that way."

Seb stands in the doorway with Max and Charles. His daughter now, thankfully, awake with a broken fever. The unfortunate part is that there are about four doctors standing around her asking her questions.

They'd been very specific with the Max. Mainly because the Dutch refused to let them near her when they said there were irregularities in her DNA.

They won't do anything without consent.

Yet the boys are still standing guard. Max's eyes haven't left her body, and Charles is trying to keep him from slamming the door open and kicking all of them out of the room.

The doctors step away from and exit the room. Seb grabs Max's arm in an attempt to keep him stationary.

The interaction certainly doesn’t look like much. Yet Seb can see the way she tries to curl herself farther away from them. They don’t advance, just continue talking. He can’t help but admire the respect they have for the traumatized girl.

Three of the doctors nod at them and walk away. The fourth closes the door behind him and steps in front of sebastian.

"We're going to discharge her. We think it was a psychological response to something, but otherwise, she should be okay to leave."

Seb thanks the man. His chest is relieved of the weight sitting on it since he'd gotten the call.

They didn't go back to Monaco. Instead, they flew directly to Hungary. It was her request since she wasn't sure she could stomach multiple trips. It was only a few days earlier than they needed to be there.

Max had gotten his own hotel room this time. The place is massive and luxurious. It's not like it's shocking or that she's not used to it by now. Her mind just recalls a time when her and Max were in a barely standard sized room eating comfort food while avoiding Brad.

"I don't know you, but I am exhausted." Lando let's out a large yawn to further prove his point.

Max drops his bags and turns to face the group. "That's a shame. Guess you won't get to join us then." A playful smirk tugs on his lips. She's not exactly sure what the plans are, but with the cheeky glint in the Dutchmans eye she knows they are in for a long night.

Next ->

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sweetainwen · 1 year ago

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ᴍᴀʟᴇᴅɪᴄᴛᴜᴍ [JJK]

Summary: trying to break free from a witch's curse was daunting, especially if it was a charade that would last until he had her to himself, but nothing was left unpunished by the rampage of a true walking curse, for every sin had to be atoned for.

Pairings: yandere duke witch hunter!Jungkook x fem!witch hunter?OC (you can think of her as Y/N)

Genre: made up world!au, supernatural!au, witch!au, yandere!au, smut

Disclaimer: this story is fictional, so each character is not as described in it.

Warnings: slight age gap (Jungkook 22 OC 26), obsession, manipulation, violence, blood, supernatural themes, burning at stake, major character death, murders, unprotected sex, fingering

Word count: 7.2+k

A/N: happy Halloween!

Tragic was life, bringing with it unexpected events that no one could prevent. The injustice of this filled hearts with sadness and helplessness, eyes that wanted to express them with tears but it was now useless.

Like her now gazing at the coffin of her third and brave husband being buried, passed away shortly after their wedding. People around her paying their condolences for the ill-fated event.

But she knew, knew how fear and judgments were hidden beneath them. She knew of the derogatory epithet that had been hung on her.

Their voices were loud, their looks piercing, their gestures blatant.

“She doesn't even shed a tear.”

“I wonder how it happened this time.”

“What a curse.”

The abyss dragged her down, shrouding her with its darkness.

However, his gentle hands brought her back up, firm and decisive, cutting that black thread that twisted overbearingly and undisturbed around her body.

As soon as she looked up, Jungkook’s tender smile calmed the turmoil that was taking over her, a hand squeezing her shoulder in comfort while the other was outstretched towards her.

“Let's get going, Minji. The air is getting very cold.”

She returned his smile with a more faint one and a slight nod of her head, resting her hand on his and letting him guide her out of the graveyard and to their carriage.

Her desire was only to marry and live happily, an accomplishment of almost every woman. She coveted that love as special as it was magical, for she had been deprived of it from an early age.

However, something prevented her from doing so.

The death of her first husband had been considered an accident, but that of her second husband a suspicion, and that of her third a confirmation.

Harbinger of misfortune, one glance was enough to cloud the poor unfortunate man's rationality, who acted rashly with a marriage proposal.

Whereupon those who fell victim to her beauty were cursed and perished.

The cursed woman.

That was what she was called by the townspeople, for there was a witch's hand in all these nefarious events.

A certainty due to the trails of magic found at the murder scene of her third husband.

“I am truly dismayed that you have been involved in this reprisal, my dear. We should have foreseen such an action.” The middle-aged man's sad voice reached her ears after they entered their mansion, being helped by the maids in freeing themselves of their coats.

“Do not blame yourself for this, my dear cousin,” she reassured, her palm brushing against his arm. “We are aware of who is really guilty. And I am confident that we will be able to find them, given our hunting abilities. The witches will not be able to escape for long.” Her hand rested gently on the cheek of the younger man beside her, whose doe-like eyes looked at her with concern and affection, before a sigh escaped her lips, “Now if you will excuse me, I shall retire to my chamber. I... need to be alone for a moment.”

The two men watched her as she made her way to the stairs, lifting her dress with her hands to prevent it from getting in the way of her steps, until she disappeared from their sight and they heard the door open and close.

The oldest cursed in a low voice, gritting his teeth, “Damn witches! If I could I would kill them all in one shot!” His gaze fell upon Jungkook, whose lips were pressed together. “Do everything to track down who it is.”

“Yes, father.”

“Just focus on hunting down these bastards, I will take care of the other family business.”

Jungkook nodded and before he began his task, his eyes drifted to the spot where his cousin had disappeared, and a sigh came out, his heart tightened with anguish at the memory of her worn-out appearance.

The fierce fury against her was personal, dictated by revenge in wanting to afflict of the same pain of losing comrades to the witch hunters.

What better way than to have a member of the Jeon, main duchy of the witch hunters' organization, as a victim?

And they had achieved their goal, with Minji pressing her lips together and tightening her grip on the reins of her horse at yet another shake of the head by one of their best hunters, Jin.

She could well hear the taunting giggles of those beings echoing through the forest even though they were concealed from their eyes, driving her frustration and anger almost to the edge. She was getting weary of the whole situation. And if she had to resort to different help, she would, even though she was reluctant.

She exhaled, "We will continue tomorrow. Going any further now will not yield any success. We will try another method."

Jungkook had not looked away from her for a second until he saw her pull the reins to turn around, followed by their second-best hunter, Namjoon.

"I knew they would curse us someday, but not that they would only come after one person,” Taehyung’s voice, another hunter, and the sound of the hooves of his horse on the ground to his left caught his attention, “They seem quite interested in your father’s cousin.”

Jungkook's gaze ended on her again, a knowing smile on his face, “They should never play with fire. It will burn them to death.”

Despite saying those words, hoping they would be heard by the tormentors, they were not getting their way, for the following days were a continuous search for them without success. And the one who suffered the most was Minji.

The frustration that was being shown on her face was not at all concealed, even if she tried to not let it get under her skin.

Her eyes that were slowly losing their vitality worried the most, for it was they that most captured people, that captured him as the first time he had seen her.

“This is Jeon Minji, a distant cousin of mine. She will stay here with us from now on. This is my son, Jeon Jungkook.”

He saw her get up from the sofa in their drawing room, walking in front of him.

The meeting was unexpected, since he had never heard of this cousin.

She curtsied, a smile tugging at her lips before stretching out her gloved hand, "Pleased to meet you, Lord Jungkook."

His hand moved on its own, taking hers and lightly placing his lips on her knuckles, “The pleasure is mine, Lady Minji.”

And the never-breaking eye contact allowed him to notice a gleam in her eyes that dazzled him.

That feeling had grown over time and did not appear to fade. It was as if he was enchanted and subjugated.

Like now as she watched the moon and stars, standing in the garden, the moonbeams over her figure making her ethereal and almost mystical.

“Can’t seem to sleep?” he asked, pulling a blanket over her shoulders to protect her from the chilling night.

She sighed, “Who would?”

“Would you like me to sing you a lullaby and stroke your hair?” he joked, a half-smile making its appearance.

She pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing, the back of her hand lightly smacking his clothed chest.

He feigned hurt, pouty lips and knitted eyebrows, clutching the injured part.

“You big jester! It’s too late for that. I am no longer a child, but you have my gratitude.”

“Honored to be your jester, my lady.” A slight bow followed the last words, taking a small chuckle out of her.

A pleasant silence greeted them.

After the death of her first husband, their meetings had increased to be as close to her as possible and offer her all his support.

The more time they spent together, the more curiosity, affection, and attraction worked its way into him.

Her trust in him had improved so much that she was even able to tell him how her family had been exterminated by witches in an ambush.

She was the only survivor of part of his father's family.

There were many members of the Jeon family, but she had never been heard of except before that misfortune happened, in which news of an illegitimate daughter spread fast and unstoppable.

She was still a Jeon, it was a duty and right to help her.

“Worry moves your actions,” she spoke. Now face to face, Minji moved as many steps as it took to have their chests brushing against each other, “but you need not worry.” A tender smile graced her lips, her fingers caressing his cheek. “Despair will never cling to me, because I have you.”

A flutter came at those words and a pleasant warmth embraced his heart.

And he wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling her body heat through their fabrics of clothing.

"After losing everything, you and your father are really the only people I have left. My family."

He sighed, a glint of sadness in his gaze, “However, we are not enough for you.” Her features softened more, her heart throbbing restlessly at his reaction. “I am aware of the difference, yet you acted hastily. I know you want to get married, how you would like to create that family you could not have, but you did not even know them.”

“I would have as time went on.”

“It doesn't imply loving them.”

She did not argue back, mindful of the truthfulness of his words. Not all marriages had that happy ending. There were many different endings that could be reached. She knew that, but if she was held back by all these ifs and buts, she would only live in fear and paranoia.

The loss of that comforting warmth on one of her hips awakened her from her thoughts, finding it now on her cheek, his thumb gently stroking the skin of it.

“For that reason, you should look closer to you. And your eyes will see that the right person is precisely the one on whom expectations were nil.“

Silence fell. His eyes wanting to convey without more words what he wanted to say, and when they reached their destination, Minji almost lost her breath.

“I love you.”

She was completely taken aback, so much so that she could not find the right words.

Heart racing, thoughts jumbling together. She was happy.

She beamed and covered her mouth with one hand to hide it from the eyes of the young man, who, however, noticed it immediately.

And she decided to answer his silent question.

“This is outrageously embarrassing,” a little ashamed chuckle left her lips, “I… had a desire to get married so that I could forget what I felt, since… I believed that you could never reciprocate my feelings.” She began to speak swiftly, “I am aware that throwing myself into the arms of those men without having any knowledge of them was wrong, but I was sure it was the best solution to avoid a possible unintended consequence of my unrequited lo-“

Voraciously her lips were assailed by his, moving them gently and slowly, savoring and devouring with ardor that first impulsive kiss of theirs.

His fingers brushing her cheeks, her hands on his hips for support.

Pulling a short distance away, their eyes met, chests going up and down.

“You were totally in the wrong. Because I love you and long for you as if you are my breath. Marry me.”

“Your father-“

“Oh, my father would gladly approve of our union,” he chuckled. “His confession about me being the best husband for a woman like you was quite telling.”

She blinked in surprise, “Did he really say such a thing?”

“He says many things that are to your advantage, my dear.” He pecked her lips, making her smile. “We will find that witch and get married. I promise you.”

She nodded, her arms circling his waist and her head resting on his chest. He pulled her close to him, his chin on her head and a victorious, sly smile adorning his face.

Happiness was overtaking him.

Who would have expected such a turn of events? It was an opportunity he would not waste.

However, if he had realized it earlier, she would have been his before those bastards interfered with marriage proposals.

Resorting to this charade had been worth it anyway; he had been wanting to get rid of the worthless scums who had immediately ogled her shortly after her arrival for too long.

Witches were the enemy of humans. Evil beings who deceived you with their human guise. For that reason, the Jeon household became witch hunters for the salvation of humanity.

Making use of the grimoires taken from those beings, they succeeded in creating tools that allowed protection against them, to trap and execute them.

Even if they still existed after centuries, the Jeons would still fight. And Jungkook, now, was the successor to that duchy.

So, no one would notice that a human was to blame for those incidents if you tainted the crime scene with evidence against witches. Least of all Jeon Jungkook himself, the witch hunter.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” the young man on the ground shrieked in a strangled voice, the rope net that had opened from the ball attached to an arrow shot from a crossbow blocking his movements with electric shocks.

They had invaded his house, turning it upside down in search of something he didn’t know about.

His own friends were treaking him like a criminal, like a witch.

“They are here!” a hunter notified from one of the rooms.

Quick steps on the wooden floor before his gaze ended on Jungkook and Minji, the latter holding a grimoire and a voodoo doll, features distorted by betrayal and disappointment like the rest of those present there.

With glassy eyes and his heart pounding, he began to shake his head, “They're not mine! I could never!” Minji’s lips were quivering. “Lady Minji, believe me! I’m not a witch! Please!”

“Take him.”

It was the last thing he heard from Jungkook before he was dragged ruthlessly out of his own house toward his last breath, screaming and trying to wriggle out even against that net-like trap that thwarted him with pain.

His pleas would go unheard and the answer to his question about the reason for this dogged and unfair framing against him never given.

Loss of sanity and restraint was there when it concerned witches, and the Jeon's young successor was aware of this.

Finding someone as a scapegoat was not difficult either, finding someone else who had allowed himself to look at her more than he could as the culprit of the curse, fitting in manufactured evidence, had been easy.

If he had known his place, he would not have ended up at the stake, undergoing pain and pleading he was not a witch.

The shock the townsfolk had experienced in knowing that Jung Hoseok, such a kind and shy young man who had just moved from afar, had actually turned out to be one of those monsters had been severe.

For Minji, who had welcomed him gently to put him at ease and had even grown attached to him like a sister, it had been another loss.

She still recalled how he lowered his timid gaze and played with his fingers while talking, the selflessness he showed if someone needed some help, and the small smile of when he was asked or considered in conversations and jokes.

And as she and the others watched the flames that had now devoured him and left only a burned body, she wondered who she might or might not trust around her.

“My love…” his soft, gentle voice and his fingers intertwining with hers as a sign of comfort led her to look at Jungkook, “This view destroys our hearts, but you’re free now.” She flashed him a half-smile and was immediately engulfed in a hug. “I’m here. All is well. You’re safe.”

She held him close, the feeling of safety and warmth embracing her once again, “You are right. I have you. My soon-to-be husband.”

Ah, how he loved those words.

He was at the mercy of this victorious enthusiasm.

It seemed to him to be an illusion well devised by a witch for how much he still could not believe that he would finally make her his for eternity.

The fear of losing her had been swept away by the knowledge that he had her in his grasp.

She could not escape; he would not allow it.

She would have no reason to, either, for nothing connected the situation they had gone through with him.

Their lives would run smoothly. They would have children, see them grow up, and would tell them and their grandchildren about how magnificent their wedding day had been.

That white dress had made her look like a goddess come down to earth to tempt a man and enchant him for life with sweet words, gentle caresses and breathtaking smiles.

He had not resisted and with vows of love and a kiss, they had sealed that long-awaited union.

Her gasp of surprise and giggle when he had taken her in his arms had stirred his heartstrings into more chords of love and devotion.

And it shone through his eyes that did not leave Minji's for a moment as he removed the veil from her hair and then caressed one of her cheek.

“I still cannot believe that you are here, as my wife.”

She leaned her face into his hand, on which she placed her own, “Believe it. For I will be here with you until death do us part.”

Without another word, Jungkook pressed his mouth to hers harshly.

Her hand gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards her. His hands quickly made their way around her waist and she could feel her breasts brush tightly against his chest as he continued to deepen their kiss and led her back towards the bed.

Both crawling up onto the middle, her back resting now on the mattress, Jungkook’s mouth continued to work against her own, his kisses becoming desperate, her fingers running through his dark locks. He groaned against her, lips finding the skin of her neck and trailing kisses up and down slowly.

She arched her back and spread her legs, his hips now comfortably against hers and the feeling of his hard bulge in his pants against her obvious. His hands lifted the skirts of her dress, fingers trailing on her skin light enough to send sparks and goosebumps down her body.

But a sense of stiffening was detected by Jungkook, leading him to break their lips apart to give her a questioning gaze.

“What is it, my dearest?”

A tint of red colored her cheeks in embarrassment and shyness, head lowering and hands tightening around the fabric of his clothing.

She was so adorable that he wanted to tease her.

“I… It won’t hurt again, will it? My former husbands had not been very… gentle. I’m afraid I…”

Silence fell in the room, but the rage lurking in Jungkook did not stop growing after those words.

They had been fortunate enough to have such a delicate and special flower in their arms and had instead decided to fill with pain and sadness that important bond between spouses.

Ungrateful pieces of shit.

A soft smile tugged at his lips, “Look at me.” She did. “I would never hurt you, in any way. I love you too much to commit such obnoxious actions.”

A slight nod of approval from her was all he needed to kiss her again, his hands shoving her dress up to expose her bare skin before trailing his fingers over her thighs and rubbing against her sensitive spot over her undergarments. She let out a soft gasp, goosebumps all over her body.

Taking advantage of this, his tongue swept in between her lips, playing with her own.

She gripped his hair as he tore her undergarments off, helping him kicking them off with her legs and hands. Pulling away again, her dress was next, pulling it up and leaving her completely bare under his gaze.

Lust filling their eyes and patience vanishing, he undressed himself quickly of his wedding suit, leaving his hardened dick on display.

Minji couldn’t help but look at him, almost losing her breath at how handsome he was. That hungry, dazed gaze made Jungkook completely insane.

She was looking at him.

Loving him.

A surprise gasp left her lips as one of his fingers slipped inside of her slowly, body hot and labored breaths.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly, drinking in her beautiful face contorted with pleasure.

Leaning over, he bit down on her shoulder as he worked his finger inside of her, a moaning escaping from her.

“I’m gonna make you feel good,” he said in a dark voice, another finger starting to slowly push inside of her. “Make you feel how much I yearn to make you mine.”

She shut her eyes, his hot breath fanning over her neck, overwhelmed by his movements and hot body against hers.

His thumb pressed against her clit, sending more shivers down her spine as her hands gripped his hair and her back arched, hips rocking up toward his fingers.

“Jungkook-“

A breathless chuckle was his reply, “You’re so wet. You’re clenching so much.”

“Please- I’m-“

“Want to come right now? Or you want my cock to fuck your pussy? Mmh? Would you like that? Look at you, so ready to get fucked up.”

His vulgar words made her whimper more, his fingers bringing her close to her own release.

“Please, fuck me up, fuck me-“

The loss of his fingers made her grunt in disappointment, but a gasp of surprise left her lips as soon as she felt his cock pushing into her slowly.

He grabbed her wrists and brought them over the sheets, near her face, intertwining her fingers with his shortly after and kept rolling his hips back and forth as he was now buried deep inside her.

She looked at him, eyes half-lidded and everything around her disappeared.

She could only hear his fast breaths and see drops of sweat falling undisturbed along his temples, neck, chest.

His arms muscles flexing as they supported the weight of his body, eyes watching her with a glint of pure and primitive ecstasy

He was shuddering above her, showing how much she was making him feel fucking good. Bare. Hers.

A shift in his movements caused something inside of her to sent shots of electricity through her limbs and whimper in pleasure.

“You’re so good. Taking me so well.”

Pulling back from her body and then slamming into her roughly, it almost made her cry out in bliss.

Her legs hugged his hips, pulling him deeper inside her.

Clenching around his cock, she flashed him a lustful smile and his quiet grunts turned into moans as his thrusts became more erratic.

Dizziness invaded their senses and spasms ran through their bodies as Jungkook filled her with his seed, reaching their release.

Trying to catch their breath, he collapsed onto her, his face in the crook of her neck and her hand now stroking his hair.

He held her close, rubbing his nose against her neck, which made her giggle as she reciprocated the squeeze with a happy sigh.

The night was quiet while they enjoyed their proximity, but a sudden muffled noise caught Minji’s attention, her gaze ending on a black cat on the window sill glaring at her.

She reciprocated with a curious glance, but did not give it much thought.

The next few days she began to see him more often; he followed her wherever she went as if he were her shadow. So she decided to take care of him, eventually waiting for his arrival so she could cuddle and play with him. He was very affectionate for a stray cat.

Her heart melted like snow when the cat snuggled up on her thighs for a nap or just to be close to her, as he was doing now. The trust he placed in her filled her with joy. Getting it from an animal was not always easy, hence she was proud of it.

If she spoke to him, he understood. If her mood changed, he sensed it. A little moral support.

Her fingers passed gently through his fur, his purr widening her smile.

“You love that cat very much.”

Her cousin's voice rendered to a whisper brought her back to reality, the cup of tea between the fingers of her other hand now cold, sitting on a chair next to his bed.

Her gaze landed on him, seeing his softened features as he sipped his tea with his back resting on the back of his bed, the pillow making the resting comfortable.

“I do.”

She placed the cup on the undercup placed on the small nightstand to her right before reaching out her hands toward the cup and undercup he was holding out to her, the black cat coming down from her legs to wonder around the room.

"And Jungkook is still displeased."

She let a small chuckle escape her lips, "He is not some witch's familiar, the sphere would have reacted otherwise. Besides, Jungkook is displeased by anything that takes my attention away from him," she reminded him amusedly, setting the undercup and cup down next to hers.

“Oh! That young man is beyond smitten with you that he even wants to get rid of a cat! I wouldn't be surprised if one day he made all the animals around disappear.”

The man laughed wholeheartedly, enjoying the way his son was behaving out of his usual character. But coughing fits interrupped him, his hand over his mouth now smeared with his own blood.

Minji widened her eyes, concern again evident on her face as she knelt at the edge of the bed and handed him a handkerchief, wiping his hand with another.

He looked at her, a soft smile adorning his face, “You are such a kind soul, my lovely little cousin. I don’t see myself worried about leaving my son in bad hands. I’m glad you accepted to be his wife. It’s the best gift I could ever receive.”

She stood still, pain and sadness piercing her heart yet a sense of pride and gratitude followed those emotions at his words.

“Thank you, father-in-law.”

He caressed her cheek, tenderness and affection guiding his gesture, “Take good care of each other, all right?”

“Of course. Always.” She gave him a weak smile, “It’s better if I let you rest, I think I have stayed too long. I will visit again tomorrow.”

“I will wait for you, my precious daughter.”

And off she went, taking with her the tea cart carefully prepared by herself after placing the cups on it, the cat following suit.

After closing the door, she let out a sigh.

A few weeks after their wedding, as Minji and he were having their usual tea hour together, he had brought a hand to his chest before passing out.

Panic had risen, and when they had called the doctor, it was discovered that an illness had struck him.

It was incurable and nameless.

The despair and destruction she had seen pass across Jungkook's face had broken her heart more than the news had already done.

His complexion was pale, dark circles under his eyes, strength weakening, and some of his nights were sleepless.

Her cousin was dying and nothing could be done. Their helplessness was unbearable, but other than spending time with him, they could do nothing else.

He had taken care of her when she was left alone, welcoming her and engaging her immediately as if she was not a mistake of her father's with another woman. He had showered her with love, becoming a father and a brother.

She almost lost her mind.

But the appearance of that cat – which she had named Sese – had been a distraction. Jungkook was busy with family business in his father's stead, so he spent a lot of time in his office room. Caring for an animal helped keep her mind off that unforeseen tragedy, ignoring Jungkook’s disapproval.

The black cat was the witches' familiar. Deception and malice were part of them. Having one in the house brought bad luck, he had even come to believe that he was to blame for his father's illness.

This, however, was not possible, since if he had really been the bearer of misfortune, the protective sphere of the house placed on a pedestal in the basement would have counteracted his strength and prevented him from entering.

He was a normal black cat that she had chosen to take in.

Footsteps could be heard and she looked up, finding Jungkook coming her way with slow, tired movements.

“Is he sleeping?”

She nodded, “Likely. I left to let him rest.” He hummed and Minji approached him, her voice soft as she asked, “Do you want me to make you some tea?”

“What you have already prepared will be fine for me.”

“But it's cold.”

“It's still tea.”

“Alright, alright,” she exhaled before giving him a peck on his lips. “Go and relax a bit too. You need it. I'll join you right away.”

He gave her a weak smile, “Thanks, my dearest.”

Tired voice, slumped shoulders, dull eyes. His pain was palpable even now with his back to her.

She could understand him; he had lost his mother when he was young to a fall from a horse while hunting witches, and now he was losing his father to a disease.

She clenched her hands into fists.

It was not fair. They had begun happy days, their laughter filling the house, their fellowship with each other and even with the household employees.

She thought it would all end with the killing of the witch, but their family still seemed to be in the arms of a curse.

The organization was already mourning one of their important members, but when he actually died a few days later, no one could still believe that they were looking at his grave in the cemetery.

The rain and fog made the event more somber and unbearable.

Condolences and words of prayes were adressed to them with sympathy and compassion.

And the title of Duke had passed to Jungkook.

His obligations had increased and with them the pressure he perceived on himself because of the expectations other members now placed on him and the family business.

The incessant pounding in his head caused distraction and slowed his work.

And today was one of those days.

His vision was blurring and the hand that was holding the pen was trembling, the writings on those papers placed on the desk only meaningless ink.

He let go of the pen and with a sigh leaned back on the chair, rubbing his face with his hands to try to shake off the weariness.

A clink of something contrasting a surface awakened him, seeing his usual cup of tea on his desk and Minji at one side of it.

"Here's your tea, dear."

He reached out a hand toward her and Minji took it between hers, drawing her closer before wrapping his arms around her waist. His head resting on her stomach.

Her fingers began to run through his hair, slightly relieving his headache at which he breathed a sigh of relief.

He rubbed his face against her stomach.

She smiled, softened by his behavior considered childish, and let him be.

“Are you done with your work for the day?”

“Not quite. Unfortunately, I have a headache.”

She blinked, “Again?”

“Again.”

“Then drink, don’t waste time. You said it helps you get over it.”

“I will. Just let me stay like this a little longer.”

She snorted a chuckle and his heart skipped a beat.

He was so lucky to have her.

She supported him with simple gestures, understood when he needed something and assisted when he couldn't continue certain things himself.

She also declined every letter of invitation to tea parties to have a simple chatter with friends because she wanted to stay with him.

Everything about her was soothing. Her touch, her breath, her closeness. She was his main pivot. His life. His.

He couldn’t stop admiring and loving her.

And he was often caught staring at her like a fool and hearing her laugh every time she told him to stop was a cure-all.

For her he was also trying to like Sese, even though he was taking up too much of Minji's time. And she gently scolded him not to be jealous of a cat.

He probably was.

Normality was setting in again in their lives and he was over the moon.

However, something began to crack once again.

Minji was on the alert, often distant and silent. Whether at home or during meetings between members of the organization, or simply walking through the streets of the central city. Especially with him.

Anxiety and terror had mixed, shaping thoughts and theories that were taking root in his mind.

She was terrifying him. He was afraid she had grown tired of him. That she had a lover.

Just thinking about it sent him into a frenzy.

He had started having nightmares and the sleepless nights did not allow him to think properly.

And the discovery of her nocturnal outings fed his fear that was getting out of control even more.

She was not betraying him. She was not leaving him. She couldn't. She had no chance.

He had tried, he had tried to communicate, to understand the problem, but he had received no answer.

Every excuse was used to avoid confrontation.

This time he would wait for her to face the situation once and for all.

He saw her as she crossed the threshold of their bedroom with light steps so as not to make noise.

Her gaze had immediately focused on him, sitting in the chair by the window set at the left side of the bed. There was no surprise and fear of being caught red-handed; no, it was as if she knew someone was waiting for her.

Doubts crept more into him.

"Where were you?"

"I was thirsty, I drank some water."

"You were thirsty, you drank water,” he was mocking her as he got up, walking slowly up to her. “In your walking dress.”

He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face, the silent expressiveness in his eyes exposing his anxious thoughts. hands shaking and slightly labored breathing.

He was so close that she could feel his ragged breath on her face. The quiet expressiveness in his eyes baring his anxious thoughts.

She tilted her head to the side, weirded out and irritated by his behavior.

“I put on the first dress I could find. Finding a suitable one would have taken time.”

“Can… Can we talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About how you’re lying to me.”

The snort she gave him left him stunned, the rope of sanity permanently snapping.

His heart began to pound faster, his trembling hands cupping her face. Despair clouded his mind at her faint mocking smile and no definitive answer.

He couldn't stand it. She was kind. She was loving. She loved him.

“What’s happening? Why are you reacting like this? Is someone bothering you? Threatening you? You don’t have to hide things from me. I’m your husband! I can help you!”

He was a mess.

He spoke fast, his voice quivering, and he felt like he was losing his mind.

It was exploding. He felt suffocated.

He took his head in his hands, his knees ending up on the ground, another headache suddenly occurring. This time heavier and more persistent.

His stomach burned, a lump forming in his throat until he vomited blood before falling sideways, a few splatters reaching Minji's dress.

She had moved a few steps closer, looking down on him.

Bent over, panting, shivering, frail.

“The tea has finally had its effect. Did you enjoy the nightmares? Probably of me leaving you alone. The twist is… you were always alone. I’m not your father’s cousin. I’m not part of your family. I am not a Jeon. Spreading rumors of an illegitimate child was a child’s play.”

Jungkook was gasping for air, tremendously shocked by what was happening. He looked at her, pupils shaking, face pale, jolts sweeping through his body.

"Too many questions you're asking me!” she chuckled, her arms behind her back with the fingers of one hand intertwined with the other. “My amazement at observing human greed will never end. Tearing books from witches and using them against them to feel powerful, killing them with no mercy whatsoever. Creating massacres and making children orphans. You have no respect for what you have. Truly deplorable.”

Anger was audible in her voice, her face disfigured with disgust.

“In two of those many massacres were the three most important people in my life. I am sure that the memory of a big wolf protecting a woman is not easily forgotten, as the sight of such a wolf is not every day occurrence. They were my parents. And I was watching with my husband and brother, hidden from your eyes under my parents' request. Shortly afterwards I lost my husband as well." A sinister glint appeared in her eyes, bending her upper body slightly toward him, "The pain I felt had been so immeasurable that I was burning with the desire to make you feel the same. You should have seen your father's face the day he died, when I revealed myself as a witch. My smile must have scared him a lot.” She smirked, “How do you feel?”

Betrayal was the only thing that was piercing his lungs and heart, immobilizing him from regular breathing and opening his mouth to respond.

Bitter tears began to stream down his cheeks.

“Nevertheless, I must admit that your obsession with me was a great benefit; you made access easier for me, and getting rid of those other lousy hunters didn't bother me at all.”

“Do you really have to tell him everything?”

The interjection of a dissatisfied male voice made her straighten up, but she didn’t take her eyes off Jungkook, whose attention was now on the young man who had stopped beside Minji with the black cat on his right shoulder.

“Where is Sese, brother?”

“On my shoulder.”

Jungkook saw the pet jump down and walk behind Minji.

He thought he would see him popping up from the other side, but what appeared before his eyes were boots. Looking up, he noticed pants, a shirt, and finally a face.

A face he had last seen burning at the stake.

“We should leave, I can't stay one more minute in this shitty place,” Hoseok grumbled, his arm resting on Minji’s shoulder. “I can still smell that damned burning smell and my skin being roasted.”

“You'll get over it.”

“You go to the stake next time, Yoongi.”

“What do we do now, Minji?” Yoongi completely ignored his annoyed comment, addressing his sister.

Silence crept in.

They were watching Jungkook like a fucking prey. Like a trapped animal. And he was.

He couldn’t do much. He had been deceived.

“Burn everything down.”

As Minji uttered those words, his hand clutched her skirt in a desperate gesture, shaking his head.

He didn't care. He wanted his wife. His love. He didn't give a fuck about her being a witch or something else. He loved her. He fucking loved her!

“Don’t… Don’t leave me, please…”

“This bastard is desperate. Apparently, you left a deep mark,” Yoongi sneered, followed by a giggle from Hoseok.

Minji extended her hand in front of her brother, and he pulled out a hunter's knife taken from the house to give it to her.

“I told you destroying them from the inside would be more satisfying, brother. My role has more impact than yours. Even though women are witch hunters, they are still viewed differently than men. Taking advantage of this was essential. Look how they collapsed like a sandcastle. I hope you had as much fun as I did, Jungkook.”

The knife was held in mid-air above Jungkook, at heart level.

His fingers tightened on her skirt, pleading with his eyes not to, but she didn't listen. Instead, she released her grip on the knife.

And as if moved by an invisible force – her power – it cut through the air and pierced his chest, reaching his heart.

His eyes lost their vitality, his body stopped moving.

And the room fell silent again.

Some time later, the house began to catch on fire.

Yoongi hid and Hoseok took on the appearance of a cat again, while she warned the employees who lived in the house to get out.

It had been a wonderful sight in her eyes.

The flames that enthusiastically enveloped the Jeon house.

Bright, big, lightning up the night.

Like the witches who were burned at the stake.

It had all been so simple that it bored her.

When she discovered that her mixed blood could somehow nullify the effects of the witches' spells used by those humans, she realized that she could do something to destroy them.

And she was succeeding. After carefully studying the methods, observing the hunters, and strengthening herself, she had taken action.

Her brother was against it, he didn't want her to put herself in danger, but she assured him that it wouldn't happen. And here was the wonderful result.

She was thanking her father for being a werewolf, and the human stupidity in not having yet discovered the existence of other living beings with different abilities.

On top of that, the compassion they were showing her after this misfortune was truly hilarious.

Talking about how her late husbands, father-in-law and her distancing from society were the work of the successor to the dukedom, his obsession and fear of having someone take her away from him, how he started a fire and she ended up having to shove a knife in his heart in self-defense, it had been a theatrical show.

The Kim family even offered to host her. A kind family indeed, she had to admit. However, they had too much faith in the witchcraft that they detested so much, and she had once again entered another house of witch hunters without repercussions.

Humming as she sat at her dressing table in her new room, she looked at herself in the mirror, fixing some messy locks in front of her face.

"Jin, Namjoon or Taehyung? Who should I go for first?" she asked, eyes fixed on her reflection before showing an interested and pleased expression. "Oh, all three? Naughty."

After smiling one more time, she stepped out of her room, her reflection still adjusting her hair through the mirror.

Then she smiled, getting up and disappearing from the mirror.

A victorius and sly giggle echoing within the walls.

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iwritewhump · 4 months ago

Text

Gravestone + cemetery

day 12 of whumptember

587 words

warnings: captivity, dead body

Whumpee pulls his jacket tighter around himself and exhales slowly. He gathers his strength and stands up. His legs wobble under him and he almost falls over, but somehow manages to stay upright.

Exhaling heavily, Whumpee walks through the open door and looks back at the only place he’s been the past year.

Dirt is caked on every inch of the ground, it’s a miracle the bottoms of Whumpee’s feet didn’t pick any of it up. Spiderwebs are in every corner of the room, each and every one of them full of bugs that have been sucked dry of nutrients. The windows cast a dull light into the room, illuminating the corpse rotting on the mattress.

Shaking his head, Whumpee walks out of the room and leaves it behind him.

With every step he gains strength and soon enough, he’s running. Running up the stairs from the basement dungeon Whumper had made for him, down the hallway and through the kitchen.

He freezes.

Police tape is across the doorway. The door jamb has been kicked in and the door lays on the floor.

There are no police cars around, so Whumpee ducks under the tape and closes his eyes as the sun hits his face for the first time in months. Exhaling slowly, Whumpee soaks up the warmth from the sun until the cold deep in him disappears.

For the next couple hours (days?), Whumpee sticks around the house. Mostly, he’s waiting to see who-if anyone-shows up. No one does, so he wanders.

He somehow winds up at an old, rundown park he used to play on all the time. The swings look mostly sturdy, so he sits down and lets it sway in the wind.

The sun starts to rise so Whumpee jumps off the swing, not wanting anyone to question why there’s an adult man on the swings. He’s not really sure where he’s going, but every step becomes easier.

He’s standing at the gate to the cemetery. There’s a service and Whumpee, despite knowing better, walks up and stands in the back of the small crowd. He’s way underdressed, only wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt with an old band logo on it and a jacket, but no one seems to notice.

The priest stops talking and the sobs turn into sniffles turn into silence as everyone places a primrose on the coffin. Whumpee smiles, those are his favorite flower.

He cranes his neck to see the name on the gravestone, but everyone is in the way. Reluctantly, he tries to nudge his way towards the front, weaving between everyone to satisfy his curiosity.

There’s only a small group in front of him now and he freezes. Whumper stands with his arm wrapped around Caretaker’s shoulders, her head resting on his arm.

She sobs softly and stares blankly ahead with unfocused eyes.

Whumpee tucks behind someone and turns around. Breath coming in quick bursts, he runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

“You’re seeing things. There’s no way it’s him.” He tells himself. He peeks around the person he’s hiding behind and stares at the small group.

Caretaker stands there, leaning heavily on…still Whumper.

Why would they both be there? Who could bring them both together like this?

Whumpee keeps his back turned to the small group and finds the headstone.

He stumbles backward, hand over his mouth. The crowd doesn’t react. He falls to the ground and scrambles back a few more feet, staring at his name on the gravestone.

#whumptember2024 #whumptember #whumptember day 12 #gravestone #cemetery whump #whumpee #whumper #whump #whump fic #whump writing #my writing #idk that the timeline doesnt make sense just imagine that it does please

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little-miss-fandom-freak · 21 hours ago

Text

More Time

(Rick Flag x Fem!Reader/ Rick Flag Sr x Platonic!Reader)

Summary: Rick Flag Sr finally meets his son's fiancée, unfortunately it wasn't the way either it them had imagined it

Warning: MAJOR ANGST!! Talks of drugs, addictions, and stippers as well

Every parent's wish is to be able to watch their child grow into an amazing person and to see them reach this achievement before their passing. No parent should have to attend their child's funeral. Unfortunately for Rick Flag Sr., life had different plans.

He debated all morning on if he even wanted to attend the funeral. No one would have blamed him if he didn't. There wasn't even a body to bury, but he wasn't a coward. So there he was, sitting in the front pew, watching Amanda Waller give her goodbye speech to her best soldier. Many people were whispering about her stoic demeanor, not realizing that this woman hadn't shown emotion in her entire career and wasn't going to start now. Rick had already given his speech, so at this point, he just wanted to leave. And he was about to do so until the pastor approached the stand.

"There is one more person who would like to send their goodbyes to Richard Flag. His lovely fiancée." Rick's eyes flickered to the stand. A younger woman slowly made her way up the stairs. She was shaking, like a scared lamb. Her eyes were puffy and red from the tears she had been shedding all morning, and her voice was tried and sore from her cries. Rick knew his son was supposed to get married before his death, he remembered the day well. Rick Jr was to be deployed to Corto Maltese with his new Task Force. When he mentioned his engagement, Rick was over the moon with joy. Rick Jr wanted his dad to meet the love of his life when he got back from the mission. That day never came.

The woman at the stand let out a shaky breath before her soft voice spoke. "Richard was... an extraordinary man. He was a brave soldier who fought endlessly for our country. He... he would've been, an amazing husband. He cared deeply for everyone around him, he'd give the clothes off of his back if it meant helping someone in need. He put his life on the line for so many people, even for those he didn't know..." She took a moment, choking back a small cry before she continued.

"If there's one thing about Richard that everyone knew, it's that he took pride in his country. He was a true patriot, even till the end... For the longest time I resented that part of him. All of the birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays he missed because he was called in for duty." Rick didn't miss the glare she shot at Waller, who sat near him in the front pews.

"But that was just who he was; fiercely loyal and willing to fight for what he believed was for the betterment of others... but sometimes-" a small cry came from her. She sharply inhaled before continuing, changing the topic before she got too wrapped up in her thoughts. "As realistic as he was at times, Richard always tried to see the best in people. He first person to see me as someone more than my career, someone more than my struggles. He even helped me get back into school. That's why I fell in love with him... but I guess our love wasn't meant for this world. Maybe in another, we make it..."

She turned to the empty coffin and placed a singular rose on top of it. "Goodbye, Richard. My heart dies with you..."

After the ceremony, everyone gathered outside to disscus the location of the wake. Rick decided he wasn't going to attend, he's delt with too much for today. He did, however, wanted to speak to his son's fiancée before he left. When he finally spotted her, she was already getting in her car, likely to head to the wake. Rick sighed, realizing that he didn't have a choice but to attend the wake.

When he got there, the wake had already begun. It was peaceful, but the tone had shifted to a lighter one than the funeral just an hour before. He shifted his way around the community hall, asking around if anyone knew where the girl had gone. He tapped the shoulder of a young woman. "Excuse me, ma'am-"

The woman whipped around. "Ma'am?! I am not that old!" Rick was startled by her appearance.

"Wait, are you Harley Quinn?"

Rick sighed. "I'm his dad."

She chuckled. "Guilty! Now I know what yer thinkin'; "Harley Quinn?! How'd you escape prison?!" Jokes on you, I didn't! The old bitch, Waller, gave me few hours out of the old cell to pay my respects. Who are you? How'd ya know Flag?"

Her cheery, peppy demeanor changed. She shoulders sunk and her smile became one full of sorrow. "Oh... I'm real sorry bout yer loss. Ricky was a good guy... probably the only person who didn't treat me like shit when I was locked up. He even visited a few times, just to check up on me... I'm gonna miss the guy, even if he was a little stuck up" She said with a sorrowful chuckle. "You raised a good man, Mr. Flag."

Rick nodded; he never realized how big of an impact his son had on people. "I'm looking for his fiancee."

"Oh, Y/n? I just saw her, I think she went out back for some air." Rick gave the young woman a pat on the shoulder before he made his way out back

Pushing past the crowd of people, he took a step outside, the fall wind hitting his face as he looked around for Y/n. He spotted her on a bench a little ways down, scrolling through old pictures on her phone.

~~~~

"Man, couldn't take of your hat for a single picture, huh Richard?" You said with a chuckle, scrolling through your gallery just to see your fiance with some kind of baseball cap on in each one.

"My son always did appreciate a decent baseball cap." You turned behind you, standing there was the older man from the funeral. Richard's dad.

"Oh, hi. We haven't met yet." You raised your hand and introduced yourself.

"Rick Sr., I'm glad I can finally put a name to the face." He said as he sat down beside you.

"I can say the same about you. Richard spoke very highly of you. It's unfortunate that we had to meet like this."

"It is..." The two of you stayed silent. You went for you bag and pulled out a small flask. Handing it to Rick, he raised his brow. You shrugged. "I couldn't come sober."

Rick nodded, accepting the flask. "How did you meet my son?" He asked as he wiped his mouth. "He never shared the details. Always said its better to hear in person."

She chuckled softly. "He would say that..." She took a sharp inhale before she spoke. "I was a stipper-"

Rick chocked on the rum inside the flask. She let out a laugh, chuckling as Rick wiped the liquid from his lips. "Don't worry, we didn't meet at a strip club. We actually met at a farmer's market of all places. He was looking for some preservative to bring before he was diployed again, and I was wandering around town before my shift started. I accidentally ran into him and we dropped all of our stuff. We hit it off instantly. I actually skipped my shift to hang out with him, He always called it our "unofficial first date." He didn't consider it an actual date because he didn't pick me up from my house, we didn't go somewhere nice, nor was rither of us dressed in "date attire"... God my life was such a mess before him."

"How so?" Rick asked as he passed the flask. "If you don't mind me asking."

You took a sip and sighed. "Before I met Richard, I was a mess. My job was great, I made good money as a stripper but... I had an addiction. Heroin. He didn't know for months but wheb he found out I was so sure he'd leave me. But he didn't... he stayed. He stayed with me, visited me every day while I was in rehab. He never gave up on me... you raised a good man."

Rick nodded. "That kid... he was something else. He the only good thing in this god forsaken world, the only spark of light in my dimmed out life."

"He was a beacon of light to all. Hell, if it weren't for him, I'd be dead from an overdose by now..." You took a big swing of her flask. "Maybe I was supposed to. Maybe this is karma's way of getting back. Because no one, as wonderful as that man, should've been taken from this world."

Rick saw the anger in your eyes as your grip around the flask tightened. Cautiously, he placed his hand over yours. Your eyes flicked up to him, tears threatening to spill. "Why did he have to be a hero?... Why couldn't he have been a peice of shit like the rest of us? Why'd did he..." a sob escaped your lips. "Why did he leave me?"

Rick pulled you into his chest as the tears and cries left your body. You trembled against him, all of your emotions were pouring out into one motion. The two of you stayed like that for a while, neither of you knew how long but neither of you cared. Finally, someone knew how the other felt. It was refreshing for you; to finally have someone you could cry to without feeling annoying or judged. You didn't have your family; your dad died years ago and your mom practically disowned you because of your career choices. This was the first real comfort you've received in a long time.

~~~~

After the wake, Rick walked you to your car. He hung by the door as you got in. Pulling a pen from his pocket, he gently grabbed your arm and wrote something down.

"My personal and work number. If you ever need anything, call me. Doesn't matter the time or day, I'm here for you kid."

You looked up at him with a wide smile. "God you're gonna make me cry again." The two chuckled as you tried to wipe away the tears. Taking a step out of the car, you gave Rick one last hug before you made your way home.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This was a a little idea I came up with last night. I read that the VAs in Creature Commandos are going to play their characters irl so I compared Rick Flag Sr and Rick Flag Jr and...

PEAK casting, I applaud who ever did this 👏

#creature commandos x reader #rick flag x reader #rick flag #rick flag sr #rick flag sr x reader #dc comics #dc comics x reader #fanfic

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slow-writer · 11 months ago

Text

TMAGP (and TMA, indirectly) Spoilers and Thoughts...

You have been warned...

I wasn't part of the original TMA crowd back when it was first airing. I'd heard mutterings of it, but never really thought much about it. To be honest, I probably wasn't mentally ready for it back then. Instead, my younger sister started listening to it last year and then kept talking about it until something she said made me go, "Y'know what? Okay. I'm in."

I ended up bingeing through it during work this past October, and holy sh*t. I fell down the rabbit hole hard. (Maybe, in this case, it would be more akin to running face first down those coffin stairs? I digress.) Being so new to it when everyone else had already been swallowed up by the sky, it was cool to dig into the Wikis that had already been made, to see the links and foreshadowing.

But now, it's the beginning of TMAGP, and I actually get to listen the day they release, to jump on here, or reddit, or tiktok, or wherever to be a part of the theorizing AS IT HAPPENS. And boy oh boy, I'm happier than Simon Fairchild in the stratosphere.

Do I have a notebook to jot down my thoughts as I listen? Of course, I do. Do I have multiple tabs open, some with ARG info, some with TMA info, and yet more with references to alchemical symbols and practices? Duh. Have I started my own spreadsheet for it all? Well, if you knew about my Lego Dimensions spreadsheet.... nevermind. Yes, I have.

But nothing beats being able to talk (or type) about it with other fans, like my sister, or those faceless avatars (lol) of the interwebs. And man, has my brain been CHURNING.

First, let me get out of the way that I wasn't able to take part in the ARG as it was happening, and my goodness! I'm so happy there are other people out there like me who were able to sum up and load it up for the rest of us to learn about. No idea how much of it will be *necessary* to unlock all the secrets, but I'm the kind who loves to know trivia just cos. And the details I am learning definitely pull me deeper.

Second, I feel like in the beginning of TMA, there was barely anything for the listeners to dig through. One guy working on behalf of an organization, trying to dig through seemingly implausible and overly spooktastic first-hand statements dating back centuries that are in crazy disarray from the previous archivist, and he's laying on a hefty helping of "this is utter balderdash, complete poppycock, and absolute piffle" opinion. It was a slow burn, something that (as an American, and being exposed to so much more instant gratification in storytelling than necessary) UK storytellers seem to be experts in, and was even more expertly done in this case, since so many little things had to eventually build up without listeners automatically assuming what would happen next, without them getting bored.

But TMAGP is already so full of so much extra stuff, so many little things (even before it was released) that we may all get BURIED in the sheer amount of data we think is vital. We're not listening to tapes this time, we're definitely listening via internet-connected devices, like computers, mobile phones, and security cameras. So, while TMA had old tape recorders magically appearing (or were they being dragged by hordes of spiders?) and switching themselves on so they could hear all the random happenings within the archive, TMAGP is no longer reliant on such hand-wavery. Whatever/whoever is listening can do so from anywhere to anyone they want. That makes the world of TMAGP

SO MUCH BIGGER.

Third, I know not everyone who listens to these things is like me (or, let's face it: us--there are so many fans doing regular deep dives on here, we should have our own categorization on the wiki). There are bound to be listeners who just leave everything at face value and wait for the story to unfold itself organically, and when it's done, it's done. But even as an adolescent, when I got into something, I did my best to listen to, watch, or read everything I could find on that very niche thing. At least for a while. (Hello, undiagnosed ADHD!)

So, I watched/listened to a couple interviews and Q&As regarding the new show prior to release. And while both Alex and Jonny have been clear saying you don't have to have listened to TMA to enjoy TMAGP, I kind of think just saying that is leading us TMA fans in a very specific direction. And I think it's very intentional, and that a lot of fans either haven't heard about it yet, or are choosing to ignore it.

They say that TMAGP is tangentially related to TMA in that there will be familiar themes, but

it's taking place in a completely different universe from TMA;

time in TMA worked differently (especially during the Entity Torturepalooza in S5) towards the end, so dates of events there may not line up with dates or events in this universe; and

the main or overarching theme is different.

In TMA, the story was "what makes a monster a monster?" As in, is there a line one crosses that they can't return from? Is it a physical manifestation, like it alters their appearance? Is it an action they have to take? And does that action have to be done willingly, or can it be coerced? Does becoming the monster to protect someone else, or to achieve a greater good... does any of that matter?

In TMAGP, they've already said that the story will be "what makes a person a person?"

The implications of that sentence are many and mind-boggling.

I first thought it had something to do with the idea of the humane (not human): kindness, empathy, compassion. The ties that bind us together as people (like being fans of a little horror podcast from across the pond) could be part of this.

But, now that we have 5 episodes out, and a metaphorical army of lore-deep-divers digging through every word and sound effect and episode title, I think we can truly start to figure out where we're heading.

Artificial Intelligence.

It struck me as I was re-listening to the first episode this morning. (I really am trying to fill out my spreadsheet in a semi-logical manner and with as many pertinent details as possible, really. That's the main reason I was doing that this morning. At least, that's what I tell myself.) We are hearing all these happenings over web-connected devices (don't think I don't see you, Alex and Jonny, and your oh-so-hilarious punning!), the OIAR employees are working on a modified business-forward version of Windows NT 4.0 that precedes Windows 95 that has a name that we interpret as 'Freddy' (or Freddie, depending on where you are in the transcripts), one of the documents from the ARG was a spreadsheet called 'Klaus' (which IS the name of the former IT guy Gwen's asking about because she heard/saw young Lena arguing with him), and we have at least 3 text-to-speech "voices" that Alice has given names (Chester, Norris, and Augustus).

All of that was running through my brain, and then I heard this passage within the first few minutes of the episode:

LENA - Nonsense. Sam is the only one who has had any cake so far. GWEN - And that was only because you practically forced it down his throat. SAM - No, no, it was… nice. LENA - People like chocolate cake.

People like chocolate cake? She didn't even ask her employees (all 5 of them at that time) what flavor they'd prefer, or if they'd want something else? No. She just knows a fact that "people" like chocolate cake, so of course, her employees--who are people--would like chocolate cake.

Almost like a computer following a logic-based workflow, perhaps?

Lots of people have been trying to figure out who in the office is the Big Bad, and many are saying Gwen just because of her ambition and her last name (Bouchard), but I think her name is a red herring. Others are saying Alice knows more than she lets on (and so many are hating on her, and I will NOT ABIDE THE ALICE DYER SHADE because I love her and I would very probably hide bodies for her) but I agree that certain things she's said are a little sus, though they really could just be her personality. I really have known some women like her, and they are some of my favorite people. (Plus, the fact that we now know that she's the most tenured employee at the OIAR--save possibly Lena--does make the brain churn some more.)

But with this line about chocolate cake, and how she was unable to join them at the pub, and how we haven't had a scene with her outside of the OIAR office, it makes me think that Lena might just be part code.

[Let me also add this really quick: I've seen A LOT of people trying to make the current episodes fit into Smirke's 14 +Dekker's 1, but I don't think the Entities as we codified them are what we're dealing with in this universe. I think trying to link everything back to that show will be a lot of wasted thought, because as they said, this isn't a direct sequel. (Do I think it's actually Jon, Martin, and Jonah--yes, Jonah, not Jurgen--trapped in the computer system? A bit, but it won't shatter my appreciation if the voices are something else entirely.)

Plus, I've seen others saying that the statements we've heard, while creepy, aren't all necessarily to do with fear. Most of them are about desires and obsessions.

The woman who wanted so desperately to see her dead husband again that she'd get scammed over and over to possibly resurrect him;

the person who wanted to spelunk an 'unsolved' site to the point of crime;

the woman who wanted to finally feel comfortable in her skin to the point of disfiguring herself;

the man who wanted so badly to climb out of his assigned station and achieve fame that he'd regularly 'feed' his violin blood from other people;

and the man who wanted to feel the same terror he felt when watching scary movies with his dad when he was a kid to the point of chasing down 'borderline illegal films' and ignoring LITERALLY ALL the red flags to the end.

I think that theory is the closest to what we may actually encounter.]

I've seen others on reddit saying they think that this series will be about the race to create the philosopher's stone--the stone that creates the elixir of life and, essentially, immortality. I think it's a valid idea. But, what if it went further than that?

Because with all the alchemical hints dropping in the show's logo, the ARG, and the 3-category system to the statements (yes, I'm keeping track) that could make one think of the spirit, the mind, and the body in alchemy....

What if they're trying to create life from software?

What if these entities or desires or whatevers have been working through some ancient busted code, feeding off statements from "real" humans experiencing strong emotions, watching the employees that work with it every single night, so they can create something as close to a human as possible from just wires and 3 decades of unreadable code?

Oh lord... it just occurred to me that--due to this being a HORROR podcast--they might need to collect a skin suit for the Not Quite Human. Is that what happened to Klaus? Ick. And now I'm hoping I'm wrong.

#the magnus protocol #tma #the magnus archives #tmagp #rant post #theory

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