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rinbowaman · 11 months

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HHP - Chapter 11 Part 2 (Fluff...lots of fluff)

PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU READ PART 1 FIRST! ITS CRUCIAL!

Warnings: Not this one.

***More parts to chapter 11 will be uploaded tomorrow. Chapter 11 is like friggin 50 pages long on my word document.

“Your father and I are pulling up to Ricky’s house. Ricky and his wife are on vacation, so we have the house to ourselves, why don’t you and Heeseung come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

You read the text your mother sent. Ricky, your father’s dear and longtime friend, retired in the nearby area. He was like an uncle to you; it didn’t even surprise you that he relinquished the entire house to your father and mother upon being away.

‘Dinner with the parents at Uncle Ricky’s house…’

Heeseung seemed relaxed and delighted as you explained your mother’s text.

“Yeah, let’s go tomorrow.” He states.

You hardly explained your reasoning, but you were feeling somewhat nervous regarding your father meeting Heeseung. Was it going to be how it was with Samuel? Was he going to act nice and polite but secretly dislike him? Or was it going to be worse since you’re in college…and your father detested ‘college boys’ more than the high school ones.

The moment in time that you ultimately were excited and yet nervous for, finally came when you both made the twenty-minute drive to your Uncle Ricky’s home. Pulling up the driveway, your heart slightly sank down the moment you saw your father’s car in front of the house as Heeseung parks his next to it.

‘Oh God…’

Walking up to the front door, you knock as you assumed the door was locked, a habit your mother instilled within you.

Hearing the footsteps up to the door, your mother opens the door and smiles widely as she greets you both.

‘It’s actually happening.’

Your mother’s eyes widen as she looks at Heeseung while you both presented a bouquet of flowers. Since your mother texted that she and your father needed nothing from the store, you both opted to get them a small token of your appreciation for dinner.

“Oh, it’s Heeseung correct?” Your mother clarifies to ensure she got the name down correctly. Which she did, her experience with working with international models and staff in the fashion industry, with people coming from many different backgrounds around the world, your mother was quite familiar with names, basic phrases, and traditional aspects of various cultures, allowing her to master proper pronunciation.

“Yes, it’s very nice to meet you Mrs. L/n.”

Your mother was charmed and took to Heeseung very well, even more so than Samuel when she first him. Of course, your mother was never an issue for concern, she always gave people a chance so long as they displayed a natural sense of respect and kindness in their nature.

Giving Heeseung a big and welcoming hug, Heeseung returns the embrace as he smiles, leaning his neck down to rest his chin on her shoulder as he caters to her very small and short frame. Much shorter, she was nearly the same height as Emily, possibly shorter by an inch or two.

Unlike any other time, Heeseung took the initiative to not wear his cap, showing a display of respect in meeting your parents. Instead, he slightly styled his hair to make it presentable, opting for a subtle side part as the front pieces of his hair left a small portion of his forehead exposed, while the remaining shaggy length was combed down and laid neatly slicked down, tapering the longer parts on the back to rest nicely on the backside of his neck.

He looked devastatingly handsome.

Your parents were all about basic formalities, and casual sense. Since you were all dining inside the home of your father’s dear friend, everyone kept it casual with the attire.

Heeseung wore a neat pair of straight jeans, darkened with a crisp, blue color as he adorned a long sleeve shirt that, of course, had the sleeves slightly rolled up, yet was branded with a designer logo at the center.

The weather had been somewhat pleasant, considering it was the start of the fall season. Since it was still rather lukewarm in temperature, you opted for a decent long sleeve blouse and an asymmetrical leather wrap skirt with the blouse loosely tucked in, paired with knee high boots. Needless to say, you had a moment where you had to pin Heeseungs hands to his own body prior to leaving the frat house as the man began to get touchy with you upon seeing how gorgeous you looked.

With your hair down in smoldering waves, carefree and alluring as it frames your face, making you look like the goddess he truly believed you to be, his breath hitched. He doesn’t know how you do it, but you never failed to marvel him with the way you, while barely putting forth any effort, found a way to encompass both beauty and sultriness.

With your medium shade of burgundy red lips, slightly glossed, and just a simple application of eyeshadow and blush to enhance your features, which without makeup, provided him enough reason alone to live for, the man became smitten with you all over again, the same way he did the moment he spotted you on campus for the first time.

Greeting your father in the great room, he welcomes you with arms wide open, a large smile on his face. Your mother stood behind with her arm looped around Heeseung’s, standing proudly as she waits for you to present the handsome young man to your father.

“Hi papa!”

“Sweetpea! Oh, my girl, my darling girl. Gosh it’s been too long, you’re a sight for sore eyes, you know that?” he remarks, eyes somewhat glossy as he takes his head back after embracing you, taking a moment to look you over, admiring his creation.

Heeseung smiles as he witnesses the interaction between you and your father, mentally noting the remarks your father made as he expresses that the world was dull without seeing you every day.

‘Oh I know…I can understand that so very well. Without her, the world is blackened with ash and dead as sand.’

“Papa, this is Heeseung, my boyfriend I told you and mama about.”

Your father approaches the taller young man. Though your father had an above average height himself, Heeseung still remained higher in manner of measurements when it came to his impressively lean and towering stature.

“Ah, yes. Heeseung, it is nice to meet you.” your father states as he extends an arm, shaking hands with him.

“It’s really nice to meet you Mr. L/n.” Heeseung calmly speaks with that dashing smirk on his face. His eyes slightly widened with intrigue as he notes the appearance of both parents, finding hints of any physical traits you inherited. They were faint, but you did carry subtle bits of their essence, the best of both worlds.

'Huh...she really is just made purely out of God's own image.'

“Well what a handsome, and strapping young man you have here y/n.” your father remarks, which earned a somewhat surprised expression from you.

“Why don’t you ladies head into the kitchen and catch up with some girl talk, Heeseung and I will sit here and get better acquainted.” he states immediately after.

‘Here we go…’

The nervous sense rises within you once more, your mother holds your hand and pats your lower back to reassure you everything is alright.

“You know how your father is, he’ll be nice and polite, no matter what.” Your mother whispers as you both made your way to the kitchen, finishing up with making dinner.

“So, tell me more about him. I know you two have been dating for…about six or seven months now? There’s a lot to catch up on.” Your mother ushers as she makes her way around the kitchen island, tending to the stove with whatever she was cooking.

You sat in one of the island’s barstools.

“Mama…”

“Mmhmm?”

“…I’m going to marry him.”

Your mother stood still, looks over to you with a soft and delicate smile on her face. You knew it was abrupt, yet there was a sense of comfort and trust that you felt with her that permitted you to speak your mind.

“Oh y/n... I already knew that.”

You were taken aback, “You do?”

“Well yeah y/n, you’re my daughter, I know you better than anyone. I also was your age at one point, and I know the signs of a young woman in love.”

She was so calm as she recounts her days when she was your age, which was when she married your father, who was fourteen years older than her. While your mother was in her late teens, your father had been reaching his mid-thirties, yet the love and attraction between the two when she was beginning her first year in college, was so strong that they chose love to conquer all other factors in life.

Naturally, your mother would be more understanding considering her own love story.

“Does papa know?”

“I think he might have a sense, he also knows you so well, more so than your other siblings. Naturally as a father, he noticed some signs. Believe me, the way you speak and laugh when it comes to this young man, it’s much different than how you spoke when you were dating Samuel.” your mother iterates.

You nodded as she expresses the attention to detail they noticed in your personality, whenever it came to you talking about Heeseung.

“He loves you, doesn’t he?” she asks.

You nodded.

“He does. Too much…to the point where it gets painful and scary. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You softly remark, looking up at her.

“Then…that means you should be with him.” She softly states. “Your dad was, and still is that way with me. Without him, there is no pain, no fear, and therefore no reason to live. A man’s love is worthless without the bad to go with the good.”

Meanwhile in the great room, seated across from each other, next to the fireplace, your father rests with his elbow propped on the arm of his seat, resting his hand along his chin, seemingly studying Heeseung, as the latter sits in the exact same manner.

“So, from how my daughter speaks, she seems to be really fond of you.”

Heeseung smiled softly as he looked down at his lap, his fingers stroking his chin as he gazes back up to your father’s eyes.

“Y/n is my little girl…” your father’s eyes drift to the fireplace.

“I’ve always trusted her to fend for herself. Ever since she was a young girl, just a baby in fact, she was always so attentive, so careful, without her mother or me to instruct her or to warn her. Its like she just knew what was good and what was bad, knowing what to enjoy and what to stay away from.” Your father remarks a soothing and clear voice, with the image of your child youth in his mind.

Heeseung’s eyes also drifts to the fireplace, where a calming wave of gentle flames dance on the logs.

“She’s always been…so pure hearted. Strong, yet so gentle and kind, it’s enough to melt your bones. But as she grew and became a young woman, I realized that her heart wasn’t the only thing that catches people’s attention.”

Heeseung faintly nods his head, knowing already to what the elder man was referring to, signifying that he agrees.

“The neighbors, family friends, or even random people down the street, I’ve seen the way they look at her…my beautiful girl.” Your father pauses for a moment as Heeseung remained silent.

“You know, there comes a time in every man’s life, when he’s outlived all his adventures and youth, he questions what is the one great thing that he’s contributed to the world. What is that one thing that makes him so great? What did he do in his life that made the world better?...For me.... it’s y/n.” Your father states firmly, yet a soft tone as he looks over to Heeseung.

“From what y/n tells me, you’re nearly finished with college.”

“Yes sir.” He responds in his usual calm tone.

“What do you plan to do after you graduate?”

Sitting for a moment in silence, Heeseung glances down to the floor for a moment, still stroking his chin, before he glances back up to meet with your father’s eyes, both men displaying a somewhat stern expression on their faces.

“I’m going to marry her and bring her with me.”

“Where do you intend to take my daughter?”

“Everywhere and anywhere, as long as I’m there with her.”

“And what are your plans for financial stability?”

Explaining his family’s background briefly, Heeseung continues with a calm and nearly emotionless demeanor, as your father does the same.

“Now I know my daughter, she’s not one to care about a life of luxury.”

“Oh I know.” Heeseung issues a subtle smirk as he looks down at the flames once more.

“So. What else could you provide for her? What could you give to my daughter that she couldn’t get from any other respectable man?”

Looking down at the silver ring that decorates his finger, he slightly smiles for a brief second, looking back up, he answers.

“Independence.”

“Hmm? Interesting, independence, huh? A little contradicting since you intend to marry her.”

“I didn’t mean it in an autonomous aspect.” Heeseung softly clarifies in a respective, yet still in his calm and reserved tone.

“I’m interested, please elaborate.” Your father softly insists as he sinks back into his chair.

“I want her to be independent in the manner of sovereignty, I want her to be free from whatever her deepest fears and worries are. I know she has some, though she's not going to always tell me. I want her to be liberated from what other people think, instead, to only care about her own opinions....her own thoughts. Everyone finds a meaning to live for, but with Y/n, I don’t think she’s found that reason, not yet.”

“Hmm…is she your reason for living?” your father asks.

“She sure is.”

“You don’t think you’re her reason for living then?” your father asks in a faintly piqued manner, as he raises an eyebrow.

“I know her well enough to be able to see that I’m a lot of things to her, in fact, I know I’m everything to her right now. But I also know that she’s not a woman to find the value of life within just anyone, even me.”

Your father slightly raises his brow yet again, this time in slight intrigue. Shifting his gaze over to the fire once more, your father remains attentively listening as Heeseung continues.

“But…if it was for me along with…” slightly pausing, Heeseung looks at the fire, “Our home, our future, our children, and for the sake of your peace and…for her mother’s…and our legacy…I know that’s the only way she’s going to find it.” Heeseung finishes calmly.

“You love her…” your father remarks.

Heeseung stares at your father’s eyes, very firmly. Nearly glaring at him, as he leans into his propped arm while he continues to stroke his smooth chin gently and faintly, Heeseung firmly nods.

Your father sighs, in a way as if he felt relieved.

“Then, you do deserve her.” your father speaks, breaking his hand away from his chin as he grips both arms of the chair, looking down at the ground, slightly nodding, as if he understood all too well, like he knew from experience.

“You know Heeseung, my daughter is the only light I’ve ever known. I have my sons that make me prouder than any father could ever be. Yet, my one and only daughter, y/n, she’s the only good and pure thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’ve spent all her youth, right up until the day I dropped her off at that college dorm, protecting and watching over her. I’m not an irrational man, I know when I have to pass the torch, I’ve been preparing it ever since I found out I was having a little girl. Yet, no matter how much time is offered, you’re never truly ready to let her go...But if the rarest of opportunities presents itself, then a father must realize and understand what he must do. Her grandfather told me the same thing when he gave me his daughter, her mother.” Your father accounts as he recalls meeting his young wife and gaining her father’s blessing.

“Do you understand that feeling? Could you? Even if you don’t have a daughter of your own, at least, not yet.” Your father asks. In which Heeseung nodded in the affirmative, understanding all too well merely because it was you, the most precious creation that was prominent in everyone’s lives.

“Then…as her father, please, make this easier on me. Make it easier for me to let her go….to give her to you.” your father’s eyes faintly shiny from the thin coat of moisture that glazes over his iris, which reflected a hint of your inheritance.

With his hand resting under his chin, leaning into the bend of his elbow as it remains propped up, slightly leaned back into his seated posture with his legs slightly spread apart, his free hand gripping on the other arm of the chair, Heeseung’s lips part just a sliver as his eyes, which faintly widened at your father’s response, just a hair, look down as if he was going to say something, instead, he remained silent.

He continues to stare at the floor for a second or two.

Looking back up to your father, a totally different face reflects back to face him. A dark and sinister side that reflected a violent and chaotic hell, with flames of blood curling screams and torture echoing through the black shade of his eyes. It was a darkness that reeked of torn flesh and carnage, a black hole of dead bones and teeth, burning and fueling the devil be becomes, all of which was triggered to be unleashed at any moment in time. Your father sits and notices the change in the young man’s face, noting that the demeanor, and aura within the young man had changed. It was terrible, filled with malice and horror. Upon seeing it, your father smirks.

Faintly chuckling, he speaks to the young devil across from him.

“Ah…you’re making this nearly too easy, my boy.” Glancing at the fire, noting the sporadic dancing movement of the flames as they moved, burning through the wood, he glances back up to Ethan’s face.

“You would do the unspeakable…if it meant keeping her safe, wouldn’t you?” your father asks, his smile growing slightly wider.

Glaring with that sinister look in his eye, smiling, and chuckling right back, his voice turning so deep, it nearly reflected the darkest shade of colors that pierced the mind.

You finish setting the table, as your mother prepares the main dishes on decorative platters.

“Boys! Dinner is ready!” she calls out.

Walking in, your father approaches your mother and hugs her, kissing her forehead as he remarks the pleasant smell of dinner.

“Ah smells good!” he claims excitingly.

Heeseung walks in, seeing you brings a smile to his face. He walks over and hugs you, placing his lips atop of your head, kissing it delicately as he inhales the scent of your hair, as always.

It was so sudden and caught you slightly off guard merely due to your father being in close proximity. Glancing over to your parents, you noticed how your father glanced over to you with a slight smile on his face. 'A smile? '

Yes a smile. A smile of…. reassurance?

“Did you guys get to know each other better?” your mother asks with a grin as she lightly kisses your father.

“Yeah we did." Your father states before looking over to you and Heeseung.

"Heeseung my boy, you’ll have to come by the house one of these days so you can meet the rest of the family when they come to visit us.” your father exclaims in a pleasing manner.

“I’d like that.” Heeseung spoke calmly as his lids grew slightly heavy, giving him that lazy look once more as he bites down on his bottom lip, looking down and directly into your eyes. It was that look he gave whenever he yearned to become one with you, it didn’t matter that your parents were feet away, the man would always issue you that look whether you were alone or in public. He did it in a subtle manner, that no one would make anything of it.

#heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enha x reader #enhypen smut #heeseung fanfic

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what-big-teeth · 1 year

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Avatar of Lust (Asmodeus)

Monsterlover!MC is gender neutral.

[ Part 1 (intro) ; Part 2 (Lucifer) ; Part 3 (Mammon) ; Part 4 (Leviathan) ; Part 5 (Satan) ]

Please note this is an 18+ blog; do not follow if you’re younger than 18.

Living a normal life as a human had its ups and downs, stress included. So suddenly being spirited away to the Devildom as an exchange student didn’t help your stress levels. At all.

Lucifer as the eldest tried to use strict rules to help you adjust with mixed results. Mammon, the chaotic greed-driven demon he is, wasn’t much help although he tried. Levi…was Levi, but adopting the hermetic lifestyle wasn’t doable. Books and cats could only do so much in the face of uncertainty (sorry Satan). And your body could only handle so much sleep and food at a time, unlike the twins.

Without a solution, your sleep schedule suffered and the issue started to chip away at your grades. Before you could even think of how to phrase your apology to Lucifer, he suddenly stopped you in the hallway of the massive House of Lamentation one night.

“It seems your relocation to the Devildom is affecting your ability to concentrate. An…oversight…which Lord Diavolo has not yet noticed.”

(You silently wondered how much it pained him to admit that.)

“After my brothers offered their suggestions, I decided one of them may be able to help.” And that’s how the routine of visiting Asmo before bedtime started.

Face creams, skin scrubs, moisturizing masks; the number of beauty products Asmo gushed about made your head spin.

But once he and you were able to settle onto a simple yet effective nighttime routine, it became a comfort. It was something you looked forward to, a process you controlled. And you’d be lying if the gentle scents of camomile, lavender, and ylang-ylang didn’t calm you.

So every night, without fail, you’d knock on Asmo’s bedroom door and be whisked inside for a mini pampering session before bedtime. And at the end, Asmo would provide a platonic “good night” cuddle.

But tonight, his door remained firmly closed after you knocked.

“Asmo? Are you there?” When you received no response, you pressed your ear against the white, lacquered door.

The sound from inside was faint and watery. Yet unmistakable. The sharp hiss afterward cut you to the core. “Asmo, are you alright? Have you been crying?”

A sniffle. “Oh, hello darling.” His muffled voice, devoid of its usual playfulness, barely reached your ears. “I was certain that silence charm would work, but…”

But you both knew demonic magic didn’t affect you normally like other humans.

“Asmo, are you hurt? Did something happen last night at the Fall?”

No lower-ranking demon could ever measure up to the fifth lord of hell. But as you soon came to learn, because of your humanity and soul, they’d still try. Even die in the attempt. If only for a chance to get at you.

“C-can you let me in?” The growing knot in your throat grew tighter, heavier. “I need to make sure you’re alright.”

“…You always worry about others instead of yourself. That isn’t good for your health or your skin, dear.”

You giggled at his gentle chiding, your ears making out a light sigh from him and a sharp click. The door’s lock. “You can come inside…but I don’t expect you to stay.”

You turned the knob without hesitation and went in. A heavy humidity slammed into your face, dampening your skin and pajamas. A quick glance confirmed his massive tub was filled to the brim with steaming, scented water. Chamomile to be exact. You ignored the stickiness clinging to your skin.

Asmo sat in his massive bed, horns present with his perfect skin blotchy and his eyes rimmed with red. The sight almost drew your attention from the chelicerae framing his lips. His arms and torso were bare, leaving his large, bat-like wings visible but his lower half…

A pair of large, pink grasping pincers protruded from his hips. Eight, long legs of the same color rested at his side as a segmented tail tipped with a black stinger lay flat and curled behind him.

The gradation of color from his scorpion half to his human torso blended perfectly in a seamless, gorgeous way. While you tried to notice more, a sharp hiss diverted your attention. You reached out, hands at the ready. He gently took yours in his, being careful of his black claws.

“You’re not scared? Careful, darling, or you’ll make me swoon~! But then, that wouldn’t be so bad—!”

Asmo hissed, his body tensing. The keratin of his left pincer had cracked without warning. But his hold on you remained impossibly gentle.

“But maybe not now,” he eked out with a strained smile.

“What can I do to help?”

Asmo’s flushed face deepened as his mouth opened and closed a few times. As cute as he was speechless, you tucked the sight away for another time.

“I’m just molting, darling, nothing serious. I should be done in about four hours or so.”

“But it hurts, right?” You gently squeezed his hands, claws be damned. “Have your brothers helped you before? Stayed with you?”

The fifth born took in your words, what you hoped he saw as want in your expression. His chelicerae clicked softly as he glanced away.

“They haven’t. I never wanted anyone to see me…”

“Not looking like ‘The Jewel of the Heavens’?” That was two times you’ve left Asmo speechless; a new personal record. You giggled, moving your hands to cup his face.

“Oh Asmo, everyone has their off days. Some more than others.” You tilted your head a little to the side to refer to yourself, feeling glad when he caught on. “You’ve been there for me when I needed help getting used to the Devildom. So let me be here for you, if you’re okay with that.”

His features wavered and nearly crumpled altogether, but he steadied himself by placing his hands onto yours. Then he truly smiled.

“You should be careful, dear. I may find a way to keep you here all to myself.”

“Knowing Lucifer, he’d find out sooner than later and have a fit,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So you’d better make the most of these next few hours, Romeo.”

Three for three; you were on a roll! And was that a light blush, too? Happy to have the last word during your banter, you grinned at the fifth born. “So, what can I do to help?”

The molting process, as you learned, left Asmo drained of energy. This affected his other bodily sensations like hunger and thirst, making them non-existent. The only thing he needed now was constant warmth, humidity, and time (“and you as well, darling~”).

So you took up the responsibility of ensuring he was comfortable. That the bathtub was filled and scented perfectly, that the temperature in his room was just right. There were a few moments where he’d quietly inch his hand towards your, which you gently took. And every time, he’d glance away with a little smile.

Four hours later, the process was done. With a new softened shell that had yet to harden, Asmo could barely keep his eyes open or his head from drooping. Knowing how keen he was to stick to his skincare routine, you stepped into his bathroom and gathered everything you needed.

You weren’t surprised when he drifted to sleep during the process, reclined against a huge mountain of plush, soft pillows at his back. And with his face cleaned and his skin moisturized, he looked much healthier. Thank goodness.

Not wanting to disturb his rest, you started scooting off his bed. But a soft touch to the back of your hand stopped you.

“Stay? Please?”

Those shy words were more than enough to convince you. With your hands still joined, that’s how you ended up spending the night in Asmo’s room.

Which he was all too happy to croon about the next day.

The tension during Saturday’s breakfast steadily built to a crescendo as Asmo fawned over you and sat as close as possible. He nuzzled his dewy cheek against yours with bright, almost lovestruck eyes.

“…And the dear didn’t want to leave my side! They had to tend to their own needs a few times, of course, but they came rushing back immediately after! My own personal knight-in-shining armor!”

Even Beel was losing steam while chewing his food. He looked ill. With a familiar twinkle in his eyes, Asmo looped his arms around your shoulders with a coquettish smile.

“Well,” he said, “my knight in very appealing nightwear.”

All hell broke loose.

The others began swearing up a storm, screeching about unfairness, chastising Asmo, all while Beel painfully swallowed his previous bite. Asmo deftly dodged the cow-printed pillow hurled at him with deadly precision. You were pretty sure Belphie would’ve used a chair instead if Lucifer weren’t present.

Still, the fifth born carried you away from the chaotic fray in his arms bridal-style, blocking your view and appearing oh so very pleased.

“I’m their first man! Me, ya hear?!” “Mammon, I will personally rip out your throat if you don’t shut up!” “Oh yeah? Try it you little—”

“Asmo, you bastard! …Why couldn’t it have been me?!” “...I can’t believe I’m not as hungry as before.” “You’d better sleep with one eye open from now on motherf—“

“THAT’S IT!” A defining crash, the splintering of wood. Then silence. From the sound of things, Satan got to use a dining room chair first.

“…Mammmooonnn…”

And missed his intended target.

You were certain the others would do what they could to learn more about last night. But you wouldn’t say anything; neither would Asmo.

And if he happened to hug you closer before unfurling his wings while you snuggled closer…

Well, that was between the two of you and nobody else.

#demon #demons #monster content #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me asmo #with our boy's symbol being a scorpion #I couldn't see him as anything other than a scorpion man/aqrabuamelu/girtablilu #anyway soft Asmo content!

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quoria · 2 years

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Chapter 1.04

The ring hums intermittently against Colton’s skin the entire way to Miss Fortuna’s parlor. Once when a trolley passes him by, a second time when he walks around an arguing couple, and two more times for no discernible reason. Colton can’t help but wonder how much the ring picks up on, and what exactly it considers to be ill intent. He seriously doubts so many strangers want to harm him, which means the ring is either broken, or warning him about every single instance of someone wishing ill on another in his immediate vicinity.

Thankfully, the ring goes still as soon as he enters the parlor. Colton steps into a comfortable waiting room, and takes a moment to look around. Plush chairs are pushed up against the walls, and there are a few scattered end tables with colorful, illustration-filled magazines and the occasional newspaper. In the back of the room, next to a small set of stairs, is a desk complete with a rotary phone and a stack of datebooks.

Behind the desk sits a large woman, undoubtedly Madeline’s secretary, with brown skin and thick, voluminous hair. Unlike Madeline’s pale dresses, the one she wears is a vibrant yellow.

“You must be the detective. Mads told me you would be dropping by. I’m Amelie,” she says, holding out her hand and greeting Colton with a polite smile.

Colton shakes Amelie’s hand, relieved that the ring doesn’t act up. “Colton. It’s a pleasure,” he says. He pauses, reconsidering. “As much as it can be, given the circumstances.”

Amelie grimaces, just a little. “Quite. I’m glad to see that Mads is doing something about all of this.” She gestures vaguely, waving a hand, but Colton understands what she’s talking about. Attempted murder isn’t exactly a topic to discuss in polite company. “It’s getting to be untenable,” she adds, leaning back in her seat to grab a small package, which she then holds out to Colton. “She’s waiting for you upstairs. You’ll want this, but be careful with it.”

Colton desperately hopes he isn’t about to be handed a package full of arsenic powder, or something equally terrible and instinctively cringes away from the box. He takes the package and holds it as far away from his body as he can manage, all while giving Amelie a woeful look. “I don’t know that anyone wants this,” he says, only half-joking as he makes his way up the stairs. The top is cordoned off by a shimmering curtain rather than a door, and he shoulders it aside as he walks through.

Madeline’s parlor is nothing like he expects it to be. There is a distinct lack of dramatically dim lighting and gaudy ornaments - not even a crystal ball in sight. Instead, the parlor reminds Colton of a study. It’s clean and well-lit, with heavy wooden furniture. Several of the same plush chairs from downstairs sit across from each other with a rectangular table in between them, and bookshelves line the wall opposite the window, packed with expensive leather-bound tomes. The middle shelf in each is empty and used as a display; one showcases various tarot decks, while another has jars of assorted runestones sealed with thick cork. One even has a pendulum hanging on a small stand, swinging gently back and forth.

The rest of the walls are decorated with neatly pinned star-charts and astrological diagrams. A length of the same, shimmering fabric cordoning off the room is hanging from the window, acting as curtains. It lets the light through, and something inside the fabric glimmers whenever Colton looks at it just so. He’s so distracted by the curtain that he very nearly misses Madeline’s entrance.

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?” she says with a knowing smile, closing the door behind her. Colton hadn’t even realized there was a door in the room, on account of both the lack of a door frame and the star charts stuck to it. When it was closed, it looked like a part of the wall, save the small handle. Madeline stood out against the tidy background in her beaded dress, easily becoming the focus of the room. Every movement caused the beads to shift and glimmer, as if they were tiny stars.

“Aside from the mail,” Colton agrees, setting the package down on the table and taking a seat. He sinks into the chair a little, and has to shift to get comfortable. Madeline takes a seat opposite, and pushes a decorative letter-opener across the desk.

“Would you mind doing the honors? I don’t have any gloves on me,” she says.

This does not inspire confidence. Colton wishes he’d thought to pull his gloves out earlier, and takes a moment to fish them out of his pockets and put them on. The gloves are made of well-worn leather, and offer a good deal more protection than his bare skin. Despite this, he continues to hold the package away from himself as he cuts away the tape to open the box, as if he expects it to bite him. When there is no tell-tale puff of powder, he feels a little more comfortable opening it the rest of the way. The box looks to be full of tissue paper, and he has to root around inside to pull out a necklace. It’s a floral piece, with a delicate golden chain and gemstones set into the center of the flowers.

At first, Colton can’t see anything wrong with it. It’s a nice necklace, freshly polished and probably new. There are no traces of powder, and nothing is off about the flowers or the gems. There are no identifying marks of which jeweler made it. It’s only when Colton goes to put the necklace down that he sees an issue: there is a thin, almost greasy-looking smear on his leather gloves. He rubs the necklace with his fingertips, and the same residue comes off.

“Any idea what this is?” Colton asks, showing the necklace to a frowning Madeline. She examines the jewelry and his gloves from a safe distance.

“Poison, I would think,” Madeline says. “I couldn’t tell you what kind.” When it’s clear she’s done looking, Colton slips the necklace back inside the package and removes his gloves immediately after, placing them next to the box. After a moment of consideration, he takes the letter-opener by the hilt and puts it alongside the gloves.

Colton isn’t an expert in poison - though he can recognize some hazardous chemicals by their harsh smell, he can’t specifically identify them. He doesn’t even use rat poison, on account of pitying the occasional mouse that sneaks into his apartment. This case continues to be so far above his paygrade that it isn’t even funny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Colton finally sighs, running a hand through his hair and making it stand on end. “Didn’t you say no one had tried to kill you yet?”

“I said they would make an attempt soon,” Madeline says simply. “And now they have.”

Murder attempts don’t immediately escalate to the point of sending real gold and gemstones in the mail, poison nonwithstanding. Madeline makes it sound like this is the first attempt, but Colton is certain there has to be more to it. There are cheaper, easier ways to knock someone off.

“Have there been any other attempts?” he asks, bracing himself for an answer he knows he won’t like.

“There have been other packages, but nothing that couldn’t be written off as harassment. Certainly nothing as blatant as this,” Madeline says, gesturing to the necklace. “At first it was little things. A popular snack that I can’t quite stomach. A scarf sprinkled with itching powder. Gloves that would make you break out in hives, that sort of thing.” She shrugs with what Colton clocks as feigned nonchalance. Madeline may know a lot that she shouldn’t, but these threats are very real to her. That’s what his gut is telling him.

That fear, however hidden, is why Colton doesn’t think he’s being conned. He’s spent a lot of time around other conmen, and he’s gotten awfully good at reading other people. Madeline isn’t giving off any indication that this is some sort of elaborate plot, and hasn’t asked him for anything aside from his help, which she is paying him handsomely for. But the idea that she’s a legitimate seer rather than a fellow conman is unnerving. If she can’t figure this out with whatever magic she has going on, he’s not sure how he’s expected to do so.

Colton goes quiet for a long moment, turning the facts over in his mind. He drums his fingertips against the table as he thinks, looking at the letter opener without really seeing it.

“Can you not see your own future?” he finally asks. He can’t think of why Madeline would need his help otherwise. Despite her insistence about avoiding the City Watch, he’s pretty sure she would turn the killer in if she knew their identity.

“Haven’t you heard? You’re not supposed to read your own future. Any fortune teller worth their salt will tell you that.” Madeline is oddly somber, in a way she wasn’t even when discussing the poison. “It’s all possibilities, in the end. Trying to keep track of it all is enough to drive a person mad.”

“But you still knew about today’s package,” Colton says. “You even knew when it would get here.”

“I did,” Madeline agrees easily. Colton wonders if Madeline enjoys watching him puzzle out answers on his own, or if this is all a test.

Still, Madeline being unable to see her own future means that she has to have a workaround of sorts. She had seen the package arriving in such detail that she’d been able to time it to his arrival.

“Your secretary, Amelie,” Colton says, just as soon as the thought comes to him. “You saw her get the package, that’s how you knew about it.” If the package had been delivered to Madeline directly, she probably wouldn’t have seen anything. That’s clever.

“You’ve got it in one,” Madeline says, offering him a genuine, amused smile for his efforts. It’s hard to say whether or not she was expecting him to figure it out, but she seems pleased that Colton has.

“I don’t suppose you might’ve seen where that necklace came from?” he asks, although he knows better than to get his hopes up. Nothing about this case is simple.

“No idea. You can take it with you, if you think it’ll help,” Madeline says, nodding towards the small box.

Colton briefly wonders if stealing evidence from the scene of an attempted crime would get him shouted at by the City Watch. Undoubtedly yes, but it’s not as if he can analyze the poison instead of the necklace itself. Plenty of toxins are easy to get ahold of, so trying to trace that would be a waste of time. Better to rinse the poison off and risk a scolding then risk accidentally poisoning himself.

“I’ll take it around to some of the shops, see if anyone recognizes it. I’ll try to clean it first,” he warns Madeline. He’s not even sure a good scrubbing will get the poison off, if he’s being honest, but he’s not intending on letting anyone touch the necklace. He’ll get a new box when he goes to buy a clean set of gloves.

“That’s fine,” Madeline says. “It’ll be our little secret.”

[1.03] «|» [1.05]

#chapter 1.04 #quoria #quoria serial #webserial #web serial

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texasstonemason · 1 year

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Reasons to prefer stone?

Building a stone house from the ground up means creating a long-lasting structure that will survive for millennia.

It would be ludicrous to claim that any construction material or structure is "optimal" for all individuals in all circumstances because each has its own distinct benefits. Nonetheless, we can't help but conclude that constructing with stone—aka "plain old rocks"—has more to recommend for more individuals in more building circumstances than any other material. This is why:

Good building stone may be found practically anywhere and is usually free. Another approach is to collect stones for free from public areas. Nevertheless, because "rock foraging" is no longer a common practice, the regulation governing such activity is usually confusing or nonexistent, therefore check with your local authorities before gathering. Some commercial rock quarries will even let you hand-pick inexpensive stones from their enormous trash piles… or truck the material to your place for a modest cost! Of course, if you're lucky (or savvy) enough to possess a piece of "worthless" rocky terrain, your own property may be the finest supply of construction stone. Other than the stone itself, you'll just need cement, sand, and gravel, as well as maybe some steel reinforcement for corners and lintels. Despite recent increases in cement and rebar prices, it is still possible to build some truly impressive stone walls for relatively little money.

Contrary to common belief, stone construction is incredibly easy. If you employ any of the contemporary masonry formation procedures, you simply do not need the years of experience that an old-fashioned, freehand stonemason need before claiming mastery of his or her vocation. The best of these methods are detailed in the excellent book The Owner-Guide Builder's Handbook to Stone Masonry.

Stone is long-lasting, fireproof, insect and vermin-proof, and rot-free. While some log or wood-frame houses disintegrate and rot after 50 years or so, well-built stone structures can last for millennia. A stone home is unlikely to be destroyed by fire, but even if the structure's wood frame inside is destroyed by fire, you can probably reconstruct it from the original stone shell. And, while your neighbors are losing time, money, and sleep fighting termites, rodents, and wet or dry rot, you can sit behind your nearly impenetrable stone walls and relax for decades after they have lost their battles with the relentless gnawers, borers, and decomposers that attack wooden structures.

Stone is both beautiful and low-maintenance. The ultimate look of a rock home is limited only by the builder's imagination, bravery, and meticulous labor because natural stone comes in so many shapes, sizes, colors, and textures. Another significant advantage of "rock living" is that once your stone masonry house is finished, you may completely disregard future maintenance: no need to repaint, no expensive siding to add, no weather-warped boards to replace, and no woodpecker holes. Year after year, the same lovely, brilliant stone.

Stone masonry houses have a high resale value. You may have no intention of ever parting with that pile of boulders you laboriously transformed into a very particular abode. Yet, ambitions and life circumstances change, and if you decide to sell, you may be offered a small fortune for your stone refuge.

If constructing with this free-for-all material appeals to you, we recommend you tread carefully on your next rural stroll. You may actually trip over a portion of your own future home. Or call Texas Stone Masonry to get you stones from all over the country. We will get the job done while protecting your home and landscaping.

#Stone masonry houses #Texas Stone Masonry

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lgcsoyoun · 2 years

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Watches and Wonders

The fact she gets to review and promote Timebox makes Soyoun feel like a legitimate fashion influencer. She admittedly had taken the time to make the studio where she’s filming these reviews look like her actual space by bringing over some of her art materials and some clothes to add to the table. She feels that this way, it looks more authentic rather than something the company is making her do. When the staff saw the bags she brought with her, she simply said “The clothes have a purpose; I promise.”

Admittedly, Soyoun isn’t an expert on wristwatches compared to horologists, but she likes to think she knows her fashion well enough to dish out an expert opinion. Other than putting in a good word for Timebox, she likes to think this is helping build her credibility as a fashionista. Now that she’s sitting down in front of the cameras and everything has been set up, Soyoun’s ready to go.

“Hi everyone! I’m Crystallis’ Astrid, and today I will be reviewing the latest wristwatches by Timebox!” She gently claps and shows off the boxes containing the watches to the cameras. “Before anything else, I’d like to thank Sanghyun-nim and the rest of the Timebox team for choosing me to be part of the CF. I would also like to thank my co-star Taiyou for being a good on-screen partner. And of course, the staff who worked very hard to make everything run smoothly for us.” She applauds them all again as thought they’re right there.

“Now on to the review, yes?” Soyoun then gently picks up one of the boxes and shows it to the cameras. “I have to compliment the Timebox team for packaging their watches in a way that look like time capsules,” she says. “It’s a creative way to package a watch, and it has me excited to see what’s inside.” Bold of her to act like she hasn’t seen and worn what’s inside yet. As she opens the box, she then shows off the gold watch to the cameras.

“First, we have the gold watch,” she says as if she’s talking to one of the Crystallis members. “Personally, this is a watch I would wear to more formal occasions.” She then takes the watch out of the box, slowly and gently as if she’s handling a child. “What I appreciate about Timebox’s design is that the watches are elegant and straightforward at the same time.”

To demonstrate her point, Soyoun then puts on the wristwatch. She intentionally chose to wear a a white shirt, jeans, and a cute black vest for her first look. “See?” She says as she gestures to the watch, which is the center of attention for her outfit. “The watch stands out in a way, but it isn’t too out of place with the rest of what I’m wearing.”

She then disappears from the frame, only to reappear wearing a little black dress and the yellow gold watch. “In this case, see how the watch dresses up the little black dress even more without it looking too over the top or out of place. The design of Timebox’s wristwatches makes it friendly enough for almost any occasion and style, so they get plus points for that.”

In the next frame, Soyoun has changed back to her original outfit and has already returned the yellow gold watch to its case. She then gently brings out the rose gold watch. “Last but definitely not the least, we have the rose gold watch.” She then shows it to the cameras, allowing it to capture the watch in all angles. “Unlike yellow gold, rose gold is more versatile and less intimidating to wear,” she admits with a sheepish smile. “I would wear this watch to both formal and casual schedules, really.”

She then puts on the rose gold watch to demonstrate how it looks good with her casual outfit. “Just like the yellow gold, this rose gold watch makes my outfit look a bit more elevated without looking too out of place,” she explains as she shows off how the watch fits against her wrists.

Once again, she disappears from the frame to come back wearing a navy blue dress this time. “I purposely chose a darker color to make the rose gold pop,” she admits as she leans closer to the cameras. But it should go with most outfits. And yes, men can wear rose gold, too.”

Soyoun then reverts back to her first looks and decides to get a bit technical. “Personally, I am more fond of the rose gold one, only because it suits my cool skin tone better,” she admits. “Although people with warm skin tones would look amazing in in the yellow gold one. Rose gold works well with all skin tones, so the Timebox team was smart enough to come up with that.” She may not be an expert horologist, but she still knows a thing or two. “The thing about Timebox’s watches is there is so much complicated technology behind the scenes that can only be found in fancy watches yet it is still friendly for daily use.”

When it’s time to wrap up, Soyoun adds, “For all your fashion watchers out there, don’t be surprised if the watches make frequent appearances in my outfits! I hope this review has helped you decide on which Timebox watch you prefer. Trust me, you won’t regret buying one!”

#lgc:gig016 #msy;watchesandwonders

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Drum it out - Harry Styles

a/n: hiya lovelies! im bringin an OC fic this time only because i had a strong vision about the girl and thought it would be best to have her as one instead of Y/N this time, but hope you’ll enjoy it regardless! Remi Devon is a baddie, i like her!

pairing: Harry x OC

summary: Harry is forced to find a new drummer since Sarah is about to become a mom, but no one seems to be good enough to replace her. It is until he meets Remi Devon, the woman who completely takes his breath away from the moment he sees her on stage.

word count: 7k

warning: NSFW content, some slight spanking

masterlist

“Don’t worry, you’ll love her just as much as I do!” Sarah smiles at Harry, giving his arm a gentle squeeze as they make their way into the small but cozy looking bar. Harry is skeptical, mostly because for him, no one compares to Sarah and if it wasn’t for her pregnancy, he would do anything to make her stay in the band. But he is so happy his two friends are starting a family together, it’s only that Harry is now forced to look for a new drummer as it’s getting harder for Sarah to keep up with the hectic lifestyle they’ve been living. Her bump is now pretty obvious and it’s only a matter of time until she can’t sit behind her instrument.

They’ve been trying to find someone to replace her during the second half of her pregnancy and at least the first year after she gives birth, but no one seemed good enough. Truth is, and Harry knew it damn well, that his problem was always the same: they weren’t Sarah.

Now she has dragged him to check someone out, a girl Sarah knows from years ago and who was told to be a mind-blowing drummer, though Harry has doubts about that.

“Sure will,” he hums, not too convinced about it.

The bar was previously a small theater, the seats have been taken out on the ground floor, replaced with tables and stools around the sides and a dance floor in the middle. The gallery is used as a kind of VIP area, this is where the two of them are right now, sitting at a small table in the front corner so they have an amazing sight of the stage where a local band is about to start very soon. Sarah said Remi, the drummer in the talk, is just a jump-in for the night for a friend, but it was a great opportunity for Harry to check her out.

“You know, she beat me at an audition a while ago. This super cool rock band was looking for a drummer for their mini-tour in Canada, because their drummer broke his leg and we both tried for it. There were still some people waiting to audition when she went in and she blew their mind so much, they just ended the audition right there,” Sarah tells him, the story still holds a dear place in her heart. She and Remi used to be close friends, but got a little distant as life took them to different paths. Now they are meeting up every few months when they are in the same city, catching up on everything since they last saw each other, sharing their equally exciting stories.

“Really?” Harry asks with genuine surprise as he takes his beer from the table and glances down at the stage. Everything is set up already and his eyes move to the shiny looking drum set at the back. It’s hard to imagine himself finding someone as good as Sarah, for Harry she has been the etalon ever since they met. But now he is forced to find someone even though he doesn’t want to, not even a bit.

“Yeah. She is the kind of girl that just turns heads wherever she goes without even trying.”

“You think I would get along with her well?” he asks, turning to face her just in time to see the wide smirk on her lips as she nods.

“I think you two would make an epic duo, H.”

“Alright, now I’m interested,” he smiles softly.

“She said they will play a lot of covers.”

“What kind?”

“You’ll see,” she smirks, sipping on her lemonade, a hand going to slide down on her stomach.

The dance floor is not packed, but there are a lot of people, seemingly most of them are here specifically for this band called Striped Shoes, Harry hasn’t heard about them until now but he is always happy to discover new music.

Soon, the lights go down, darkness falling to the theater, the only light is coming from the bars at the back. Then a spotlight turns on and a guy is standing in the middle of it, cheers erupting from the people as he starts playing the guitar and Harry immediately recognizes the song: Smells like teen spirit by Nirvana. Just a few riffs later all the other spotlights come on, each of them illuminating a member of the band and Harry’s eyes flick to the drum set where the only female on the stage is sitting, he catches her the moment she starts playing, the vibrant energy lingering around her almost knocks him off the stool even from this far away. Her hair barely reaches her shoulders, it falls to frame her heart shaped face in soft waves, the roots are a darker color than the rest that’s an odd shade of mahogany, but it suits her perfectly, Harry thinks. She has a few tattoos littered across her arms but not a full sleeve on any of them. They are on full display in the shirt that’s sleeves were seemingly ripped off, the fabric is raw on her shoulders. It seems to be some kind of old band shirt but Harry doesn’t recognize the logo on the front. Her legs are wrapped in ripped jeans and Harry is immediately mesmerized by how steadily she keeps the rhythm while absolutely nailing the song.

She makes it look so easy yet fascinating, her head snaps back a few times, a satisfied grin stretching across her lips as she enjoys the music, clearly a fan on it. She doesn’t miss a beat and flows into the next song that’s an original from the band as if the two songs were the same while she had to switch up the rhythm entirely through the transition.

Harry feels starstruck, watching this woman take the whole show, in his opinion, while simply sitting behind the drum set, playing like no one he has ever seen. She puts all of herself into it and that’s why she manages to outshine everyone else. Harry knows how hard it is for a drummer to get the same kind of attention as other members, but Remi makes it seem like it’s the natural, like drummers are the front people without a doubt.

When the cover version of Rock and Roll by Led Zeppelin comes on, in a way more hard rock version, Harry almost fears the stage is about to catch on fire. The song already has amazing drums in it, but the band gave it even more attention, giving a chance for Remi to show how amazing she really is.

“So? What do you think?” Sarah shouts over the music and Harry suddenly realizes he is not alone. He managed to zone out on the drummer without even noticing.

“She is… amazing,” he admits truthfully, in complete awe of what he is witnessing. This is music. This is passion. This is exactly what Harry always looks for in musicians and Remi has a whole lot of it.

They push the short drum solo a little longer at the end and Harry watches as Remi finishes the song standing, playing so hard that with the last hit, one of her sticks simply snaps into two, flying across the stage as she is breathing hard, skin glimmering from the sweat, her hair a complete mess from all the head shaking she’s been doing, but Harry thinks that it’s the hottest thing he has ever seen in his life.

Sarah knows she finally found her replacement, judging from Harry’s look she knows he is a sucker for Remi so she just lets him enjoy the rest of the concert.

When they play their last song and they all gather at the front of the stage to bow in front of the audience, Harry finds himself standing as he is applauding the band, but especially Remi who doesn’t even know Harry Styles is now a fan of hers.

“Let’s talk to her, shall we?” Sarah suggests once they disappear from the stage. Harry nods, finishing up his beer before the two of them head backstage.

Sarah has been put on the list since she previously let Remi know she would be coming. She was ecstatic to see her old friend, however was not told that Sarah would be coming with someone else so when Remi spots the two of them walking down the small hallway at the backstage, she is surprised but not shocked. She knows Sarah has been working with him for a long time now, but she wasn’t expecting him to be here tonight.

“Hey! There you are, mama!” Remi jokes with a heartfelt chuckle as she hugs her old friend. “Already looking like a milf!” she teases, earning an eye-roll from Sarah.

“Rems, I want you to meet Harry. Harry, this is Remi Devon.”

Remi’s eyes meet Harry’s piercing green ones and for a moment, Harry feels his stomach drop. She is even more breathtaking up close, in her simple but very fitting outfit, hair pushed back from her face carelessly she is easily the first woman ever to make Harry nervous to the point where he is having a hard time to even talk.

Remi holds out a hand for him smiling warmly and he luckily takes control over his actions and shakes it before it could get awkward.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. Heard a lot about you,” she chuckles softly.

“Hope you believed only the best,” he nods with a shy smile.

“Oh, of course,” she winks and Harry swears he felt his heart skipping a beat.

“We actually have something to talk to you about, Rems. Do you have some time for us?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, just let me wash my face and I’ll be right back. There’s a small green room on the left, feel free to wait there,” she nods and disappears a moment later.

Sarah and Harry move into the room as Remi told them to and just a few minutes later she storms inside, a new shirt hugging her torso, a simple black one, but it’s tight unlike the one she wore for the concert. She sits into the armchair while Sarah and Harry have taken the small sofa.

“Alright, I’m all yours,” she smiles at them crossing her legs. Harry knows he should be the one to bid the offer, but it seems like he is not finding his words just yet. But Sarah is quick to talk when she realizes Harry is at a loss of words.

“I brought Harry today because I wanted him to see you play. We are currently looking for someone to take my place shortly,” she explains, placing a hand to her bump. “I know you’ve been freelancing lately so I thought you’d be interested in working with the band and of course Harry.”

“Oh!” She seems genuinely surprised at the offer. “So this was kind of my audition in secret?” she chuckles.

“You could say that,” Sarah smiles.

“And how did I do?” she asks, eyes meeting Harry’s gaze that hasn’t left her face since she arrived.

“You… definitely passed. The best I’ve seen so far,” he tells her and the smile on her face is worth everything for him.

“So what does this mean exactly?” This time Harry answers, finally finding his voice.

“If you are not too busy in the upcoming time, I would love to have you as my drummer,” he states, handing her the offer on a silver plate, basically.

It’s an offer most musicians dream of, so Harry thinks she’ll accept it right away, but of course, Remi is not like others.

“I’ll be needing some more details before I give you my answer though,” she smiles.

And that, she gets. A few days after the concert Remi meets up with the rest of the band and Jeff to talk about all the details. She clearly wants to know what she is jumping into and Harry respects that. At the end she accepts the offer and as Harry watches her sign the paperworks, a huge wave of satisfaction and excitement washes over him.

***

The public imagines Harry as the picture perfect human being who is always at his best, never making any mistakes, but that’s far from the real truth. He is as flawed as anyone else, it’s just that not many get the chance to see him in this state.

His bandmates are among the few privileged ones that are bound to see all his ups and downs as well and since Remi is part of them now too, she has witnessed his bad days since they have started working together.

Harry’s growl is heard in the microphone when he is supposed to be singing and the music soon comes to a halt. It’s probably the tenth time he is messing up the exact same part because his head is just not at the right place. He knows he should be at the top of his game, not wasting his colleagues’ precious time, but he just can’t bring himself away from the heavy thoughts that’s been occupying his mind lately. There are days when he is as free as a bird, not a worry in the world, but sometimes everything comes down at once and he feels like crumbling under the weight of his own career.

“Sorry guys,” he apologizes into the microphone, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he closes his eyes for a few seconds to collect himself. The silence in the auditorium where they are currently rehearsing for tour is harsh, everyone is tired and they can feel the nerves creeping up on them about the upcoming tour and making sure that everything is perfectly in place for the first show.

Remi looks around from behind her drum set, holding her sticks in one hand and she doesn’t like what she is seeing. A group that’s always so happy and carefree is now just a big ball of stress, this is not right.

“Guys, why don’t you all wrap it up for today, I’ll stay here with Harry and help him get it right,” she offers.

“How do you want to practice without everyone else?” Mitch asks, not at all in an offending way, more like out of curiosity.

“I’ll find a way,” she smiles softly and he doesn’t push it further.

As the rest of the band is packing up, leaving slowly, saying their goodbyes Harry is sitting on the floor next to one of the speakers, head hanging low, deep in his thoughts. Adam is the last one to leave the place and once it’s just the two of them, she stands up from behind her set and walks over to the desperate man.

“Get up,” she orders, not in a bossy manner, more of a ‘do what I asked, I’m trying to help’ way so Harry obeys. Standing up he towers above her, almost a full head taller than Remi, but still, sometimes she can make him feel so small.

Harry has noticed that her energy is making her push the air out of his lungs sometimes, just the way she stands, looks, moves around a room, it’s making her appear like the ruler of everyone around her. He has often found himself just staring at her from afar since she has joined the band and even though she has caught him ogling her a few times, he just still can’t bring himself to stop admiring her. He definitely has a fat crush on the new addition to the team, however now his feelings are pushed aside, their place taken by his anxiety and worries.

She takes his hands and pulls him to the middle of the stage, putting the microphone stand to the side so they have some space cleared out around them. She then turns to face him, a warm smile tugging on her lips while he is rather curious about what she has on her mind.

“Scream,” she simply tells him, his eyebrows immediately knitting together in confusion.

“Wha’?”

“Scream,” she repeats, but he is still lost about the situation. She chuckles a little before taking a few steps away from him, twirling around her heels before stopping facing the area where the audience is supposed to be during a concert. “Whenever I feel like I’m locked, like everything around me is so suffocating that I can’t even function normally, I take a minute and just let it all out,” she explains before taking a deep breath and hunching over, the most eardrum-breaking scream bursts out of her, making Harry jump a little.

She holds it long, until her throat is cracking up and she runs out of her breath, then the scream dies and she takes a deep breath, filling up her lungs again. Harry stands there, completely stunned, thinking that if anyone heard her now, they are surely convinced she is being tortured here.

When she turns back to face him again, she is smiling as if nothing just happened, like it’s the most natural thing to randomly scream from the top of her lungs on a casual Wednesday night.

“Now it’s your turn,” she tells him, but Harry doesn’t feel like it’s gonna be his thing at all. But he still turns to the side, clears his throat and lets out a not too forceful shout that’s quite saddening compared to her scream. “Oh, come on, I’m sure you can do better, Styles,” she chuckles, hands on her hips as she tilts her head to the side.

“Is this really necessary?” he questions, eyebrows still furrowed at her.

“Very much. Now come on, do it!”

“Remi, I--”

He doesn’t have the chance to finish, because she screams at him, knocking the air out of him once again, making him flinch at her sudden action.

“Scream!” she then snaps at him.

“I don--”

“Scream!” she repeats forcefully and Harry gives up. Taking a deep breath he lets his voice out in a hoarse scream that’s way more vibrant than his last attempt. “Yes! Again!” she grins nodding and he does it again.

And then again and again, until he feels like his chest is completely empty, like nothing is keeping a tight grip on his insides anymore. He is panting, mind racing as he realizes how much better he is feeling now, meaning that Remi’s technique worked.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, smirking, her arms folded on her chest.

“Fucking awesome,” he chuckles out of breath, running his hands through his messy hair.

“Great. You think you can handle going through the song now without messing up?”

“I… think?”

“Alright, grab your guitar and I’ll give you the beat.”

She moves back behind her set as Harry grabs a guitar, throwing the strap over his head, turning to face Remi behind him as he places the microphone stand in front of him.

“I’ll go softer on the beats, you just do your thing okay?” she tells him and he just nods, fingers already on his guitar.

Kiwi sounds a whole lot different with just the drums playing weakly and only one guitar playing, but it’s not what matters. Harry finally manages to go through the song without messing anything up.

When the song ends and the music is replaced by silence, Harry can’t help the grin stretching across his face.

“I fucking needed that,” he sighs, his head falling back for a moment as the last bits of euphoria settles in his body.

“Want to go over something else?” she asks, turning back and forth to the sides on her stool, playing with the sticks, twirling them between her fingers easily.

“You sure don’t want to go home like the others?”

“Let’s see what choices I have. I can go home and watch an entire season of Love Island on my own, eating leftovers from two days ago or I can stay here, play music with a hot dude. I think I’m fine with the second option.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up at how simply she just called him a hot dude, his heart fluttering in his chest again like the first time he saw her play, only difference is that now her eyes are piercing on him and it’s just the two of them in an empty room. He is already having thoughts that should probably be pushed down.

“Did you just call your boss hot?” he teases her then.

“I don’t think you’re my boss,” she scoffs. “You need me here more than I need to be here, so I think I’m the one having the higher ground,” she points out and Harry knows she is so damn right. “Besides, I know you find me hot as well.”

He is quick to blush at her words, but that doesn’t stop him from questioning her.

“What makes you think that?”

“I see you staring, Harry. I’m not oblivious or naive. I know you like checking my butt out every time I’m fixing my set leaning down,” she chuckles and now he is certain his ears are a deep shade of red, he was caught more often than he thought, it seems like. “Also…” she smirks slyly. “If you think you hid your hard-on cleverly the other day when I played my solo, you are wrong.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry mumbles, cursing himself for being such a horny teenager around her, but he can’t help it. The woman is the epitome of everything Harry finds so fucking attractive, it’s like she was made for his imagination specifically. “This, um, this is a little awkward, but I’m sorry--” “Oh, don’t be,” she chuckles. “I’m just lucky I’m a woman and my arousal can’t be seen that easily,” she comments and Harry almost chokes on his own breath.

Did she just admit she has been turned on by him before? When? What did she think about? What was it that made her turned on? Harry needs answers, however he is not given the chance to get them.

“Alright, you can choose two more songs we’ll go over and then we are off,” she simply says, as if they weren’t just talking about being horny a moment ago.

“Uh, maybe Only Angel and, um, Lights Up?” he prompts, trying his best to regain his composure.

“Cool. Let’s do them.” And with that, she switched back to work mode without batting an eye.

***

It feels like the crowd will never stop screaming. It just keeps going and going, people are probably losing their voice, but the screaming just continues as Harry stands at the front of the stage, his adrenaline jumping to the sky, eyes roaming around the full arena. He throws a few more kisses, placing his hands to his chest one last time before turning around and heading off the stage, his eyes meeting Remi.

She is not wearing her usual clothes, instead, she is now sporting a pair of high-waisted dress pants in a lavender color, a white top tucked into it, her matching blazer thrown to the floor, she probably got hot the moment she started playing. Her tattoos are on full display and she looks just as sweaty as Harry feels. But still, for him she is a sight he would love to look at for the rest of his life.

Their eyes meet and she smirks at him, eyes glimmering from the high she experienced through the concert, it’s a feeling they all share every time they perform together and it’s clearly like a drug neither of them wants to come clear of.

“Good job, Rockstar,” he reads her lips saying and he laughs, winking at her.

Ever since their one-on-one rehearsal, things have felt to change between them. It’s like a barricade that’s been lying between them has come down and they are feeling much more free around each other. Secret glances, touches and flirty comments are their usual and they don’t care that the people around them are starting to catch on it as well. They love the game they are playing and neither of them plans on stopping it.

Harry stops at her drum set, holding out a hand to help her up and walk her off the stage, knowing well she doesn’t feel the most comfortable in her stage clothes and feels a little too restricted by the end of the concerts, but she understands that her style does not go well with the look they are going for.

She snatches her blazer from the floor and gladly takes Harry’s helping hand as he walks her off the stage, her Gucci boots feeling a little too tight at the moment.

“One of these days I’m gonna rip these pants off,” she jokes, pulling on the tight waistband of them.

“Just make sure I’m around when it happens, Darling,” Harry teases, making her laugh as they walk backstage, everyone congratulating them and the band following behind on their way.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Very much,” he admits without shame, the blushing long gone from his cheeks and ears. The buildup has changed his nervousness around her lately and he is enjoying the teasing and flirting all too much.

The whole team agrees that tonight’s show was exceptionally good and that it deserves some celebratory drinks. A few blocks away from the hotel where everyone is staying there’s a cozy looking bar and the rather loud lot occupies half the place as they flow in and start ordering their endless rounds of drinks.

Harry is sitting at one of the tables they have taken up, going strong with his third beer of the night, half zoned out of the conversation with the small group he is sitting in. His eyes are fixated on Remi’s figure who is standing at the bar with Charlotte, unlike every other female around she is not sipping on some kind of fancy drink or a cocktail, she went straight for the crafted beers the place had to offer. She has changed her stage clothes, wearing her usual tight black jeans and a sheer top with a simple black sports bra underneath it. Harry can’t stop his eyes from raking down her body, taking in every curve, tattoo and tiny detail about her and he thinks that there is not one thing on her he doesn’t find attractive.

Her eyes find him, a playful smirk playing on her lips Harry has been thinking way too much about lately, and she cocks an eyebrow at him in a way that yells at him: Like what you see, Rockstar?

As an answer, he just simply shrugs with a growing smirk until she turns back to Charlotte, who is still talking to her, she hasn’t even noticed that Remi was focusing somewhere else for a moment. Remi laughs at something her bandmate said and Harry wishes he could be closer to hear her voice, he has grown quite a liking to her laughter, he has been trying to crack as many jokes lately as he can just to hear it.

He takes his eyes off her just for a second when someone at the table asks him something. He mumbles his reply and reaches for his beer as his gaze shifts back to her figure, only to find that Charlotte is not gone and a not so friendly looking guy is behind her, clearly trying to chat her up.

The dude is standing way too close to her for Harry’s liking, leaning in to talk to her, but she keeps backing away, however he does not care about that. She is clearly not enjoying the exchange and when the guy reaches up to her face Harry is quick to jump to his feet, ready to go to her rescue. But it’s not needed.

Just as he takes one step towards the scene near him, he witnesses as Remi grabs the bloke’s hand before he could touch her face and with a strong and quick move, she twists his arm behind him, keeping the guy on his toes as he is trying to escape her deadly grip on his wrist, his hand pushing into the middle of his back.

Harry’s mouth hangs open as he watches Remi tell something to the guy in a not too friendly manner before letting him go and the man flees before Harry could blink twice.

“That was impressive,” Harry tells her, walking up to her at the bar. Remi just shrugs, gulping down the rest of her beer.

“I know some tricks.”

“How come?”

“Grew up with three older brothers, had to learn how to defend myself when they decided to attack me out of nowhere.”

“Three brothers? That must ‘ave been wild,” he huffs impressed.

“I surely didn’t have a girly childhood, I’ve always been kind of a tomboy,” she shrugs again. As a teenager, she often wished she would be like the girls in her class, but later on she realized how big of an advantage it is that she speaks the boys’ language so easily.

“I think it just made you… badass,” Harry smirks, leaning against the bar counter.

“Is that what I am?”she arches an eyebrow cockily.

“Definitely. A handful, but the good kind.”

“Oh, just be careful, Rockstar. I might think you are trying to get into my pants,” she chuckles and as Harry hears her laugh he can’t stop himself from taking it further. She is too intoxicating.

“And what if I am?”

Remi doesn’t seem surprised at his comment, not even a bit. She is clearly enjoying the flirting once again, but when she answers, he surely is the one who is surprised.

“Then I gotta say you are working way too slow. I’m losing my patience.”

His eyebrows rise, lips parted as he stares back at her, the words that left her lips pushing the air out of his lungs once again, he is done for her. Utterly and completely. He wants to say and do a million things, but then settles on just one simple question.

“Want to get back to the hotel then?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she smirks and simply heads towards the door without another word spoken. Harry is quick to grab his stuff from the table and catch up with her at the exit.

The crispy night air feels a little sobering as they both step out of the bar, heading to the nearby hotel with rushed steps, keeping their silence but they both are grinning madly. When their eyes meet they can’t push down the laughter and Harry grabs her hand before he starts running, pulling her after himself.

By the time they reach the hotel they are both out of breath, adrenaline running high once again as what’s been building up between them since the first time they saw each other is finally about to bloom fully.

Remi pushes the button for the elevator and as it moves down painfully slowly Harry’s hands find her hips, pulling her back against his chest. His lips tease the soft skin on her neck, peppering kisses everywhere he reaches while his fingers dig into her skin under her sheer top. She leans against him, head falling back to his shoulder and she pushes her bum against his crotch, a whiny moan escaping his lips that makes her smile in satisfaction.

“Fuck, Remi,” he breathes out, eager to finally have her all to himself and make all his fantasies come to life. The elevator finally dings and as the door slides open Remi turns in his arms abruptly and grabbing onto the collar of his shirt she simply pulls him inside, hand snapping on the button of his floor and just as the door slowly slides closed and they start moving up, her lips finally crash against his.

They are kissing hard, eager to take as much from each other as they can, they are both greedy, wanting the other all to themselves, the heat of the moment lighting up the small elevator. His fingers rake through her hair, grabbing a handful of it in each of them while one of her hands slide down his upper body until it stops on the obviously growing bulge in his pants. Harry moans shamelessly when she gives his erection a teasing squeeze and she smirks against his lips, satisfied with how easily he reacts to her touches.

Harry melts into her, wanting to devour every bit of this moment with her, he is seeing stars when she takes his lower lip between her teeth and tugs on it. A hand flies down to her ass and he squeezes it hard without shying about how much he is enjoying touching her.

The elevator reaches their floor and once again he grabs her wrist and starts pulling her down the hallway towards his room. Her lips are glued to his neck when he is trying to get his keycard from his back pocket and open the door, but when he finally succeeds, they basically fall into the room, tangled into each other and the door snaps closed behind them.

He is quick to push her against the door, lips attacking her neck, nipping and sucking on her skin until he is sure a mark is left on her.

“Off with it,” she pants, her hands tugging on his shirt and they work with all four of their hands to unbutton his shirt until it flies across the room. Remi pushes on him, hands spread across his hot chest as they get farther inside the room. The bump into some furniture on their way, lips glued together again until they finally reach the bed and fall right onto the perfectly made sheets. They are both showing dominance so it’s a constant fight for the lead between them, rolling around until at last Remi ends up on top, strangling his lap. She straightens up and grabs the hem of her shirt, getting rid of it fast before she does the same with her sports bra, baring her upper body completely to Harry’s greedy eyes.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pushing himself up until he wraps his arms around her, mouth meeting her chest, littering her heated skin with sloppy kisses until his lips reach one of her nipples.

“Yes!” she moans as he starts playing with it, his hands coming to cup her breasts, massaging them continuously before his mouth moves over to her other nipple, giving it the same attention.

Harry uses her momentary weakness and turns them over, his crotch coming in contact with her center as he pushes his hips between her legs forcefully. He kisses down her stomach before he leans back and works fast on the buttons of her jeans. The tight material hugs her legs stubbornly, but he is eager to get rid of them and he soon succeeds, leaving her in just a lacy black thong. He undoes his own pants in a heartbeat, pulling them off and throwing them to the side before he gets on top of her again, kissing her lips so hungrily as if it hasn’t been just a few moments since he kissed her last.

She whimpers under his touch when he moves a hand between her thighs, running his fingers along her clothed folds, her arousal already soaking the fabric. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand into her underwear, her juices wetting his wandering fingers and he teases her hole and clit playfully.

“You better not fucking tease me, I don’t like that,” she pants, her dark eyes meeting hers and he can see the threat behind her words, she is not joking.

“Then what do you like?” he breathes out, eager to please her so much, she’ll forget about everyone else she has ever slept with.

She doesn’t answer, instead, a devious smile tugs on her swollen lips as she pushes him off until she is able to move. Harry is now kneeling on the bed and watches as Remi pushes her ass up into the air, back arching perfectly, her thong looking so delicious on her round butt and when she pushes herself back so her behind meets her throbbing dick in his briefs he could cry from the sensation. His hands immediately grab onto her asscheeks, pulling her even harder against himself.

“Smack it,” she breathes out, glancing over her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Do it,” she nods and Harry doesn’t need more encouragement, he lifts a hand up and smacks her ass so it leaves a little redness after it. Remi moans erotically, enjoying herself fully and seeing how much it turns her on, he smacks the other cheek as well.

“You are gonna be the death of me,” he whines and pushing down his briefs his erection finally springs free, he grabs it with one hand, stroking himself a few times while his other hand is keeping a tight grip of her ass.

Remi wants to see him naked, so she quickly pushes herself up to her knees and turning around her eyes fall on Harry stroking himself. Hunger fills her eyes as she launches forward, lips meeting his while her hands simply take the place of his on his length, doing the job for him.

“I’m on birth control. When were you last tested?” she mumbles against his lips before leaning back so she can get rid of her thong and Harry does the same with his underwear.

“Three weeks ago, haven’t been with anyone since and I’m clean,” he mumbles in a rush.

“I’m clean too. You can ditch the condom if you want to.” “I wanna feel you,” he pleads desperately as she lies back on the bed and he gets on top of her again.

“All yours,” she smirks, spreading her legs wide for him, the sight in front of him is easily beating any art he has ever seen, he thinks.

He positions himself to her entrance, but doesn’t push into her just yet, leaning down so his lips brush against her ear as he whispers into it.

“Let’s see if you feel just as amazing as I imagined.” And with that, he pushes into her with one swift movement, stretching her all the way until his whole length disappears inside her.

“Fuck, Harry!” she cries out, back arching at the sensation. He sucks on her neck once again as he starts moving in and out, fitting inside her so perfectly, he is convinced she was crafted just for him.

He is going fast and hard, their pants and moans completely filling the hotel room and they can only hope they can’t be heard by anyone right now. She circles her legs around his hips, the angle he is reaching making her toes curl behind his back.

“You feel so fucking good,” he chokes out, face contorting into a blissful frown as he is getting closer to his orgasm with each thrust.

“I want to be on top,” she gasps, already pushing on and this time Harry doesn’t hesitate to obey. He rolls to his back, pulling her with him so now she is on top. Her hands come to rest on his stomach as she starts riding her, circling and lifting her hips so perfectly, so breathtakingly that Harry could cum just from the sight of her bouncing on him, but the feeling is making it a mind blowing experience. His fingers dig into her hips as she is starting to move faster and faster, before Harry starts bucking his hips up to meet her rhythm as well, going so deep into her, he is having a hard time deciding where she ends and where he starts. They are completely merged together in one hot mess.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she screams gasping, her head falling back as she doesn’t fall out of her rhythm, still being such a drummer even in the bed, dictating the beat.

Harry pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her so he can push her naked chest against his, their sweaty skins sliding against each other relentlessly, creating friction.

“Scream my name when you cum,” he orders, his lips finding hers once again, but it’s a messy kiss, their teeth are clanking, noses are bumping together as they are both nearing their high.

“Harry, oh fuck!” she exclaims and with her next movement he can feel her clench around him.

“Louder!” he growls on the edge of his own orgasm.

“Harry! Harry!” she screams shamelessly, throwing him over the edge, a guttural moan bursting from him as they both fall out of the rhythm, satisfaction washing over them in waves.

“Oh shit!” she breathes out, lips against his as she keeps him close with her hands on the base of his neck.

“Fucking Hell, Remi. I think I almost had a heart attack,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle making her laugh as well. She pulls him into another kiss, but it’s way slower now, the hunger and greed taken by their pleasure, now it’s time for something softer.

When they fall back to the bed, arms and legs tangled as they are still trying to stay close to each other, Remi looks up at him with a tired smile.

“So, was it like you imagined?” she asks and he chuckles softly.

“A thousand times better. But now we have a problem on our hands.”

“And what would that be?”

“Now I’m hooked. I won’t be able to stop thinking about you, not that it hasn’t been the situation since the start.”

Remi chuckles shortly, pushing herself up enough so she can look comfortable at his flushed out face.

“Well, it’s a good thing we are kind of locked together for months.”

“I’m one lucky man, aren’t I?” he smirks, so full of himself before he pulls her back down, kissing her like they have all the time in the world on their hands.

#harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles imagine

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Back when things were still easy, Billy and Max used to have sibling days on the weekends when Neil wouldn’t be home, setting aside their issues to have just one day that was meant for doing something fun together.

The tradition had been dropped after the move to Hawkins, and Max thinks that’s where a lot of the strain on their relationship comes from. Without those designated times to let go of some of the tension building between them, they fall to pieces.

There’s one day in particular where it’s just Max at home all by herself, her mother and Neil having gone on a trip to the city she opted out of, when Billy shows up much earlier than he said he would be back, ruining the calm when he slammed the front door so hard a picture frame fell off the wall.

Neither of them say a word to the other, all she gets is an apologetic and glossy looking glance for the noise as he storms past her like she isn’t even there.

She doesn’t see Billy again for a long time after that, just hears the angry music blaring in his room. By now, she’s wisened up enough to know that meant he was probably crying in there, and though she doesn’t know what happened, she feels bad.

It’d been far too long since they acted anything like real siblings, not that they were actually related, but they used to be just as close, so after her brother’s been brooding for literal hours, she knows she wants to do something.

Her opportunity to bring it up comes when Billy makes his grand appearance at her door, stopping by to ask if she ate dinner just so he, quote ‘wouldn’t get any shit for it.’ She nods in agreement and asks, “Do you know what day it is, Billy?”

He shrugs, “28th of June.”

“Well, doy, but it’s also Friday.” Billy raises an eyebrow, missing the point, and Max rolls her eyes. “Friday. You know, like, the one day we get to hang out.”

Too cool for that stuff anymore apparently, he scoffs and leans against the doorframe, and she just knows he’s going to say something snarky, so she turns the puppy dog eyes up a notch, “Please? It’ll be fun.”

It works, Billy sighs way over dramatic and steps into her room, throwing himself down onto her beanbag chair. She can’t contain the smile on her face when he asks with fake defeat, “What did you want, shitbird?”

“I want a makeover day. Like we used to do.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why?” She crosses her arms, “Just because that’s what I want to do?”

He fixes her with a look that says ‘seriously?’, and explains, an edge of frustration to his voice, “No, because you know what’ll happen if I’m struttin’ around in nail polish and shit when Neil gets back.”

“They’re not supposed to come back until like, Monday though,” in response to her excuses, he mimics her in crossing his arms over his chest, so she tries harder to reason with him, “And we can always just take it off when we’re done.”

“That’s just a waste of your stuff, then.”

“Come on, Billy, please?” she’s out of actual arguments and he’s winning, so she brings out the big guns, the little sister privilege, the one surefire way she knows will always knock her brother off guard, “I miss you.”

He squints at her, seeing through the attempted guilt trip, but he can’t muster a frown, and he must know it wasn’t all fake, because he says, “Whatever.”

She knows that’s his version of a yes and he’s just too proud to admit he caved, so she squeals and claps her hands together, taking off like a shot to dig under her bed for the stowed away beauty kit. It’s a little wicker basket filled to the brim with nail polish and makeup, the same one they’d used years ago before everything went wrong, and it makes her happy, bringing the old thing back out.

She stops to put a record in her player, choosing Queen as the closest thing to a middle ground between their respective music tastes, they at least both weren’t supposed to listen to it, and drops down into the other chair beside Billy.

On the latch-hook rug in front of them, she starts to empty the basket, lining up all her brightly colored bottles of nail polish, slightly dried out after months of not using them. “What color?”

“Why do I have to go first?” Billy asks. All Max has to say in response is a know-it-all “Because I said so.”

“Fine. You pick.” The moment he says it he looks like he regrets it, Max is notoriously bad at making decisions, but she ignores him and starts holding up bottles anyways.

First, after few minutes deliberation, she chooses a pretty dark green, and he scrunches his nose and doesn’t say anything. She picks a purplish color, which he tosses away on the bed, a very firm ‘no’ that makes Max giggle. Then she gives him a bright orange bottle, and he holds in front of his face, studying it before turning that one down too.

“God, if I knew you’d be so annoying I would’ve just painted them all the colors.” She remarks, lining up her polishes so she could do just that.

“That’s actually probably not a very good idea, kiddo.” Looking a little panicked, he digs through the bottles himself, settling on one he pulls away and stares at for a second before handing it to her and telling her, “Just do ‘em red.”

It confuses her, but she agrees regardless, and makes him turn in his seat so he’s facing her and his hands are flat on the floor. His hands are a little shaky, so her paint job isn’t the best, she even drips some on the carpet, which she hopes her mother won’t notice, but Billy doesn’t say anything about the mess.

With his nails done she moves onto his hair, she wants to do double braids like how he taught her to do in her own hair, so she shoves his arm to get him to turn around. “Scoot.”

He lets her push him around until he’s in the right place that she can reach his hair, but once he’s facing the far wall he tells her, “Don’t you dare use that brush on my hair, Maxine.”

“Jeez, relax. I’m not gonna mess up your princess curls.” She mocked, but she still went for the comb to run through his hair instead.

She waited until she could get it through without catching on any tangles before bothering trying to talk to him. When Billy was upset, he tended to clam up, but she didn’t particularly like feeling awkward in the silence, leaving all the talking to the record player. “Can we talk about why you were mad earlier?”

“Nope.”

“Would you tell me if I told you about my day?” She tries, but he shuts it down again with an “Unlikely.”

“I’ll tell you anyways.” Max didn’t know what had happened with Billy, but she knew she hadn’t had the greatest morning herself either. “I had to ask Lucas to bring me home early because me and Mike got in a fight.”

Billy snorted, and spoke with just as much sarcasm as Max had used on him. She learned that from him anyways. “You and Mike? No.”

“Yeah. He was being a total ass about El, trying to like, own her or something, so I told him to lay off ‘cause that’s totally not fair.”

She knew that Billy, having graduated and turned 18 now, was probably getting a little old for this type of drama, but he was a good listener, no matter how much he pretended not to care, always giving little bits of insight and saying things to make her laugh.

She continues, “Well, anyways he like, totally bit my head off for sticking up for her, so then I told him he was just a miserable mouth breather who’s jealous of El being happy, and he tried to kick me out.”

Billy laughed at that, muttering a little ‘ow’ when the action made Max pull his hair, “But you left before he could kick you out right?”

“Duh.” She sighs a little, the fun part of the story over. “Then when we pulled up outside, Lucas said something stupid about it being my fault or whatever, so I dumped him again.”

“Good. I told you not to take any shit from them anymore.” Billy had been less than happy with her friends a lot recently, when she’d come home from school or from hanging out upset over something they said. They never meant to hurt her feelings, but Billy didn’t like it all the same, and made her promise she’d stand up for herself a little more. Like she did to him.

“Yeah, I guess.” It makes her feel light on the inside, to know Billy was proud of her for following his advice, in his own way at least. “So? What happened to you?”

He shrugs again, and blows her off, “It’s nothing.”

“You were crying.”

“Yeah, and it’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not,” she fumbles with the braid and loses it, Billy’s stupid uneven mullet making it way too hard to braid so many different lengths of hair, “But I’m like, an expert now. El says she likes my advice.”

Under his breath, Billy mutters, “‘Course she does.”

Max purses her lips and pretends she didn’t hear that before continuing her offer, “Anyways, I can always try to help.”

“Listen, it’s just stupid dating stuff. Nothin’ you need to be worrying about.”

“But I’m a girl. I can give advice about that.” She thinks about it for a second, “I mean, I know more about being a girlfriend than having one, but it’s probably about the same.”

“Maybe.” Billy mumbles, focusing all his attention on picking at the nail polish that had missed the edges of his nails, and just from the way he tensed up she can tell she’d overstepped Billy’s boundaries in some way or another.

She finishes of the braid she had already started over twice now and puts a blue scrunchie on the end of it, giving him a minute.

When she starts combing out the rest of his hair is when Billy speaks again, not a drop of his distinctly Billy attitude in his words as he admitted softly, “You know, shitbird, I never said anything ‘bout having a girlfriend.”

That’s confusing to her at first, because he had just told her it was a dating thing, but Max’d been hearing all the nasty things Neil said about Billy for years now, and while she might just be a kid, might be the clueless and annoying little sister, she still knew the weight of what he’d just admitted to her.

It had always made her sad, to know Neil didn’t really like Billy, all the mean words he used, ones she wouldn’t dare repeat, to describe Billy and his friends, all the lies he told about him behind his back. But she doesn’t buy it, what her asshole step-dad had to say.

Her brother was cool, and she liked hanging out with him, when he wasn’t being such a jerk. The fact that he had a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend didn’t change that in the least bit.

She hums, trying to gather words and, her voice strained against the outburst of happiness, says “See? I can totally help with boy stuff.”

#billy hargrove #max mayfield #billy and max #harringrove #it’s implied harringrove at least because Steve is the boyfriend in question #story by ej!#ej writer #this is really sloppy but I wanted to just get this outta my drafts so here ya go #it was also initially from a much larger story #I just decided this was the only part I like #if you take note of the date tho I think y’all can probably tell where I was going with this #just wanted to write Billy coming out to Max because we as a fandom kinda decided that she already knew bc of that one vague convo #but like that stuff is really hard to pick up on when you’re the clueless little sister #(trust me lol)#I think it’s more something like maybe she snitched on him for doing smthn neil knew was Bc he was gay but she didn’t #and she never put the pieces together until he told her #featuring (subtle) autistic Max bc when doesn’t my writing #and colorblind Billy if you squint with the nail polish

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 3 years

Text

Between Lust and Love 2/?

Summary: You are standing on a bridge enjoying the view; Someone’s watching you from a balcony. The moon adorns your window; You adorn someone else’s dream. (Fragments, Bian Zhilin)

Rated E for explicit description of Zhongli’s wet dream

A/N: implied semi-public 3some

Chapter 2: I Adorn Your Dreams

The gentle and almost reverent touch of your fingertips as it ghosted through the skin of his chest was enough for Zhongli to be drunk on. The usually kept and proper funeral parlor consultant was lounging atop of his soft bed, his outer coat was left lying on the floor, his vest unbuttoned along with his white shirt. You sat between his legs, crawling on top of him with a sultry look in your eyes.

The tent of his pants was noticeable, and Zhongli knew that he would not be able to remove the stain of his precum as your other hand lightly touched his groin, all the while smiling like a vixen as you placed kisses on his stomach slowly making your way up, each touch of your lip sent an electric shot down his spine, making his cock ache for you. And yet he made no move to hasten you, he waited for you to serve yourself to him, an arrogance well-deserved for a man—nay, a god like Zhongli.

The way the soft orange light of his room illuminated you brought out your sensual side, the kind of eroticism that only existed between lovers found in stories, the red color of your hanfu was enough to make Zhongli think that this was the bridal chamber, and you were his eager newly wedded wife. The redness of your plump lips as it hovered before his lips tempted him to grab a hold of you, pressing your groin against his as he captured your lips. And that was what Zhongli did, the sudden friction caused by his hard cock that was pressing itself against your wet groin made you moan.

Opening your mouth wide enough for Zhongli to slip his tongue in and devour you, like a parched dragon finding a sweet oasis after a drought. Your sweet moans as your body surrendered itself to him only drew to make him want you more. Your clothes were removed from your body as Zhongli’s large hands explored the smooth expanse of your skin, he paid a particular attention to your chest, groping it and teasing it in the exact same way he had seen Childe done. His mouth had moved itself from your mouth to your neck biting and kissing as he listened to the melody of your moans.

The broken call for his name as one hand groped your chest and the other gently caressed your thighs, sliding it open to rub your wet pussy easier against his hard cock. Your slick had drenched his pants and Zhongli let out a soft grunt of pleasure as you began to move your hips on your own.

His tied up hair was left undone, making it fall to the side and frame his face as he laid you on the bed, gently kissing your lips and committing into memory the taste of your sweetness.

“Zhongli…” Your sweet voice called him and he smiled, you were such a sight to behold.

Your flushed face, coupled with tears that gathered at the edges of your eyes made his heart burn, the rapid rise and fall of your chest from the lust only made his cock harden further.

“Shhhhh” He comforted you as he placed a gentle kiss between your breasts before leaving a mark. He stood up and freed his hard cock from its confines, delighting at the way you drooled at the sight of it.

“Please...put it in already…” You begged, the innocent begging coupled with your lewd action of spreading your legs further apart and using your own fingers to spread your own pussy brought a tantalizing erotic sight that spurred him on.

“Anything for you” Zhongli replied as he grabbed his dick and slowly entered your wet pussy.

You moaned and your body arched as you felt his tip slowly enter, and then all at once you were filled with his thick and long cock, your toes curled in pleasure as you felt him move slowly before finding the perfect rhythm that made your mind melt from the amount of pleasure he was giving you.

The soft moans you let out, with the occasional broken call of his name made Zhongli pleased. He fucked you like the whore that you were, hands leaving bruises on your thighs with each hard and fast thrust he gave to your squelching pussy.

“Zhongli—I—!” You came from one of his particularly hard thrusts, your pussy squeezing his cock so good that Zhongli came inside you. Spilling his thick white seed inside your pretty and glistening cavern. His eyes were closed from the pleasure of fucking you, the feel of your cunt and the sound of his name as you moaned appeased his inhuman side.

Zhongli let himself rest for a few moments before opening his eyes, to an empty room, devoid of you and any evidence of the lascivious deeds you had done together with him. The soft morning chirps of the birds outside his bedroom window, and the sizable stain in front of his sleeping robe made him pensive.

Zhongli sighed, and closed his eyes before opening it again.

“How am I going to face them today?”

While Zhongli pondered on his own day, neither you nor Childe were doing nothing. You were doing commissions for both the Mondstadt and Liyue Adventurer’s Guild while Childe was collecting information to prove your claim of Zhongli’s inhumanity.

Though you both knew that the Adventurer’s Guild was a strict non-partisan guild that held no ties to any of the nations of Teyvat, Childe also knew that it was an open secret within the Adventurer’s Guild HeadQuarters that you took private commissions.

Commissions that were illegal in nature, ones that were almost no different from the ones the Northland Bank occasionally did. So it hadn’t surprised the new recruits that you were to lead them for the day, Childe made no secret of his ties with you, though both you and him kept your romantic entanglement under strict wraps, that the two of you knew each other from birth was not unknown to those who knew to ask.

Your strength and undeniable mastery of your Cryo vision also led to the awe of the new recruits that was lent to you. It made your job considerably easier, more so since you were collecting information on the events that took place in Mondstadt, the Honorary Knight and the Dragon.

You knew how the Fatui worked, there was no reason why La Signora and Scaramouche would linger in the vicinity of Liyue. The Tsaritsa made sure to never let her Harbingers gather in one place for too long.

‘Signora should have left after taking the Gnosis, there’s no reason for her to stay here this long and in hiding unlike Scaramouche’ You thought as you coldly watched over the recruits practice in Sal Terrae, ‘Scaramouche has been stationed here to prepare for Inazuma...there’s no reason for the two to linger, not when the entire plan has been ironed out.’

“Good job, Men!” You praised them, facade easily taking over your serious face “Lord Tartaglia would be pleased to know this particular batch of recruits are talented.”

Your smile turned sweeter upon seeing their pleased and puppy-like enthusiasm, “I’ll be sure to tell him that you lot are worthy of a spar for him.”

“““Thank you, Lady Columbina!!!”””

You hummed as you looked in the direction of the dawn winery, the cogs of your brain turning, ‘Unless there’s another plan...one that my darling Tartaglia was not made aware of…’

As you played with this thought, the more likely it seemed, “Well then, as good as your battle prowess is, the Fatui must also be discreet in its dealings…”

The recruits listened attentively, standing straight as you walked between their ranks, inspecting them with the cat-like glimmer in your eye. You were living up to your fame as an S-class adventurer, you continued as you stopped behind them, smiling in the direction of Mondstadt and its repurposed castle walls, “For your next training, infiltrate Mondstadt without alerting your fellow Fatui and the Lord Harbinger assigned to it.”

You paused at their silence, “Ah, hesitating? How smart”

Their unease could be felt in the air, and you couldn’t fault them. You weren’t a Fatui, you were just someone who was strong enough to work exclusively with one of their harbingers.

“Face to the left!Face!” You barked at them, and they did so, “Face to the left! Face!”

You smiled at them once they were facing you, and yet the recruits could tell that despite the smile on your face, you weren’t smiling at all. You invoked a certain fear and awe, one that reminded them of Her Majesty’s Ever Winter.

“Lord Tartaglia would be pleased to know that this bunch of recruits can think for themselves…” You dropped your smile and leveled them a cold look, “Don’t worry, this training was meticulously planned by our beloved Lord Harbinger, Tartaglia.”

It was a lie but no one needed to know that.

“You have three days to prepare for the training mission, once you’ve decided on how to infiltrate Mondstadt, report to Ekatrina of the Northland Bank. You’ll be given your funds and then be dispatched.”

You left them and began your trek back to Liyue, Mondstadt’s wind gently blowing through your hair. You felt your good mood coming back,

‘Ah~Today would be a good day.’

There were a few things in his life that brought him great unease, for Childe one of them was being subjected to your displeasure, the other was being on the receiving end of Zhongli-xiansheng’s unfathomable stare. And right now he was experiencing both, Childe cursed himself for forgetting his schedule.

He knew of your suspicions towards Zhongli, and he also knew that you understood Zhongli was necessary to achieve the Tsaritsa’s goals. He was lucky in that regard, you knew how to draw a clear line between your professional and personal life. It was one of the reasons why he had pursued a relationship with you. Beyond the love and bond forged from the harsh winter of Snezhnaya, whether he was Tartaglia, Childe or Ajax, the one thing constant among his identities was his love for you.

Which was why he had always done his best to make you happy, ensuring that you would live a comfortable and carefree life. It was the least he could do for being the way he was.

“My dear—”

“Mr. Zhongli, I know how lovely my Childe is but there’s no reason for you to intrude on our date.”

“Actually I’m—”

“Yes, our Childe is certainly a lovely individual, however our lunch appointment had already been scheduled prior to your arrival.”

“Xiansheng, I’ll buy you whatever you—”

“Oh? You’ve booked my Childe for lunch for his entire stay here in Liyue?”

“That-Darling it isn’t set in stone so—”

“Yes, after all is he not the diplomat sent over by the Tsaritsa herself?” Zhongli smirked, it was an uncharacteristic sight for him. One Childe hardly ever saw unless the man had solved a particularly interesting puzzle or problem.

Childe glanced at you and saw the hard look in your eyes, bit by bit the cogs of his brain turning rapidly as he pieced together your revelation and the information he had gathered over the course of the morning. Slowly the fog was lifting and the bigger picture was slowly becoming clearer.

He didn’t really understand what was happening yet but Childe trusted you, even though the churning of his gut was unpleasant... he could and easily stowed the unpleasant feeling away.

“Xiansheng.”

Zhongli turned and found himself the recipient of Childe’s charming smile, one devoid of any honesty. It was his business smile, often directed to the bank’s clients or in one particular case the Liyue Qixing.

“We’ve known each other for a while now,” Childe began as his hand reached for his teacup, “You aren’t the type to push something unless it was important.”

Zhongli could feel the temperature in the air change, and privately thanked Childe’s foresight to book a private room. On the other side of the table, you sat with your back straight and deceptively relaxed as you poured Childe his tea.

“Yes” Zhongli admitted as he stared at the floating tea leaves on his cup of green tea, he lifted his head to stare straight in Childe’s blue eyes, “I would like to offer a contract between you, your lover, and me.”

Childe blinked, his eyes staring at the odd glow in Zhongli’s eyes, one oddly reminiscent of a beast. A warrior.

‘Adepti’ his mind whispered.

Childe wasn’t aware but the slow lift of his mouth, curving into a smile carried no trace of humanity, it was a smile that reminded Zhongli of the height of the Archon Wars. It was a captivating smile that took Zhongli’s breath away.

‘Ah, I really want both of them right now.’

Once lunchtime was over, the streets of Liyue was ripe with new gossip. In particular, involving the esteemed gentleman of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the consultant Mr. Zhongli, the Childe of Northland Bank, and the S-Class Adventurer from Snezhnaya.

The three had left Liuli Pavillion, you and Childe were flanking Zhongli, attached on either side of him in a suggestive way. That you had left both Childe and him with a kiss on the cheek only served to fuel the confusion. No one knew what had occured over the private room of Liuli Pavillion but the barely noticeable mark on Zhongli’s neck and the slightly disheveled look of your clothes and Childe’s knowing grin left much to imagination.

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#zhongli x reader #zhongli x childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x childe #R-18

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lordkambe · 4 years

Text

⛓ title, type, word count: high rise, drabble, +1.7k

⛓ character, fandom, type of reader: chrollo lucilfer, hunterxhunter, woman reader.

⛓ genre, rating: y/n, explicit nsfw, 18+ only.

⛓ themes, triggers: public sex, oral m/f receiving, explicit dirty talk, daddy is used as a pet name

⛓ brief summary: after a date chrollo invites y/n to a high rise suite. on the top floor they put on a show for yorknew. this is truly p*rn without the plot.

⛓ author’s note: i know i promised this earlier but i got caught up with other things plus this went in another direction than i was intending. nevertheless, i had fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy it. feedback and further suggestions is always welcome. i’m also considering of doing tag lists so if anyone is interested in that please let me know.

The chill from the glass elicited a soft shriek from you. Your hand reached forward to press your hand against the glass but Chrollo was quick to stop it. He earned a grip on your wrist and forced it behind your back. He pressed your frame firmly against the mirror. From over your shoulder you could see he was consumed with lust, “my love...” he moaned in your ear. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your eyes shifted to the skyline ahead. It lowered to see the busy streets of YorkNew beneath you. The suite Chrollo had rented was located in a high rise where the entire city of YorkNew could be seen. Embarrassment swept over you,

“what if someone sees us?”

“Then let’s give them a good show.”

The grip he hand on your wrist softened before he let go entirely. He decided to pull you towards him by using your neck instead. That same hand swept down your chest. He felt your breast through the thin fabric of the dress you wore. It was stark red color that fit your frame as if it was meant for only you to wear. Chrollo had gifted you the dress prior to your date. Just minutes before you two were in the lobby of the high rise returning from a night on the town. The way he treasured you led him to take you out anytime he was able to. You were his most prized possession.

He was gentle with the fabric but it wasn’t to spare it, it was to tease you. He felt you through the fabric before his finger looped through one of the straps. He forced it down exposing you entirely. He sees your reflection through the glass and you see his. His cheeks flushed into a rosy hue.

“No bra?” You can hear the excitement in his tone.

“It would’ve ruined how the dress looked.”

“Or maybe you’re just teasing me. Huh?” He pushed your frame closer to the glass once more. Your nipples hardened the second the cold glass touched them. You hitched a breath and felt the heat between your legs rise. Chrollo took the ends of your hair and pulled it causing your head to fall back. “Like the little slut you are.” Your lips meet and the kiss is filled with haste. Chrollo penetrated your mouth with his tongue. When you parted both of you elicited a harmonious moan. With each passing moment you felt the juices in your cunt grow. You clenched your legs together tightly in order to give yourself some pleasure as Chrollo continued to tease you. It’s almost as if he could read your mind. With his own leg he forced your legs apart. It caused a whine to fall from your hungry lips. He stepped back for a moment and you wondered what he was up to. “What are you doing?” Your voice is needy and desperate for his touch. He doesn’t respond but returns to stand directly behind you. He fixed your hair before his hands fell to either side of your waist. “Alright then. That’s what I’ll do.” You swallowed to prepare for a response but his actions are faster than you anticipated. He tore the dress from your figure and the tattered fabric fell into a puddle beneath your feet. Still pressed against the window the only thing on your body was your panties, already soaked through. He began to trail kisses on your back and down your spine. He lowered his frame while doing so. Now on his knees he stared at your ass. “Chrollo,” you whined. “My love, call me that other thing. You know.” You knew exactly what it was. It was when Chrollo had blinded you in a state of euphoria. You’d never been fucked like that before and you could’ve sworn you saw the stars. The adrenaline rush you felt from that evening caused the thing, as he called it, to fall from your sweet lips. “Daddy.” You whispered. “I’m terribly sorry my love. A little louder.” “Daddy!” You cried out. “And what would you like Daddy to do?” Your hand curled into a small fist and you bit on your lower lip. Your legs were trembling. You heard him chuckle. What’s so funny you think? Then you realize how wet you are. The juices from your swollen pussy dripped down the side of your leg and stained the floor underneath. Chrollo ran his finger up your inner thigh. A single finger pressed against your clothed entrance. “Say it.” It was a demand. With such haste you blurted out, “Daddy please fuck me hard. I want you, no! I need you.” In response Chrollo slipped your panties to the side and exposed your glistening pussy. Immediately Chrollo pressed his lips against your cunt. He gave it a sweet kiss before penetrating his tongue inside you. A moan bubbled up in your throat. It’s soft and you knew Chrollo didn’t enjoy that but he seemed to be to wrapped up in pleasuring you to care. His tongue lapped against your entrance the juices you created started to run down the sides of his lips. And the grip he had on your thighs? You were expecting to be greeted with bruises the next morning. As you moan and whine his tongue left you. It’s quickly replaced with his finger. Chrollo rose up to his feet and instructed you to push your hips towards him. Another finger entered inside of you. He’s stretching you out in preparation for his hardened length, equally as desperate to be inside you. The rhythmic pace of his fingers scattered but the sound your pussy made was consistent. You didn’t have to verbally ask to be fucked, your pussy said it all. Chrollo removed his fingers from inside you. You whined in disappointment. “I know, my love. I know.” Your neck twisted to watch him. He was unbuttoning his suit coat. It hadn’t hit you that he was fully dressed unlike yourself. With your legs weak you managed to find balance without his help. You walked toward him. “Please let me.” You said with your hands flat against his chest. You enjoyed undressing Chrollo, the moment was sensual and thrilling for the both of you. You began with his coat then loosened his tie. You removed each button to expose his toned body underneath. With your hands pressed against his biceps you slid your body downward. Now on your knees you unbuckled his pants. With the buttons undone and the zipper opened, you removed his pants to view his hardened cock hidden underneath the thin fabric of his briefs. Your hand touches the shaft of it before running it upward. It elicited a moan from Chrollo, music to your ears. You lowered the band of his briefs to finally expose his cock. You nearly drooled at the sight of it. “Daddy’s cock is so big.” The words fell from your mouth involuntary. And while you were desperate to have him press his entire length inside you. You couldn’t help yourself to attach your lips to the tip of his cock. You didn’t tease him. You took the entirety of his length in your mouth and the moan that left Chrollo’s mouth was the loudest you’ve ever heard from him. “That’s right my love, take it. Take my cock. So—- so fucking good.” His speech stuttered and it boosted your ego. Your head bopped in unpredictable patterns causing Chrollo’s knees to buckle. His hand tangled into your hair. “Ah, ah — fuck!” He tore your head from his cock. You let out a cough before using the back of your hand to wipe away the liquid from your lips. On your knees you looked up at him. He’s exhausted but hungry for more. “So are you going to fuck me good daddy?” You batted your eyelashes. Chrollo didn’t say a word. He lifted you up from your arm and gently threw you against the window once more. His hands ran up your stomach before he cupped your breasts he played with your nipples for what felt like an entirety. Finally, fucking finally. He entered inside you. Your wet pussy welcomed him with such ease that the two of you moaned in ecstasy. You arched your back and pressed your hands flat on the window. The sound of your skin clapping against each other filled the room. Alongside it were your whimpers. “I’m sorry Y/N? Do I need to get my ears checked?” He said between labored breathes. He took one of your legs and hooked it underneath his arm. You felt is cock hit your g-spot and you choked at the euphoric sensation. “I can’t hear you.” Instantly a moan bubbled from your chest and left your mouth. It was loud, visceral. The rims of your eyes began to water as he continued to mercilessly thrust into you. “That’s a good girl!” He praised. “Such a good fucking girl. That’s what they are thinking looking at you down there. Oh— god.” The beat of his thrusting grew erratic, he was close and so were you. “Chrol— Daddy! Oh! Fuck me! I’m going to cum!” He responded with his own moan. You felt his lips return to your shoulder. He littered your back with warm, sloppy kisses. Within your core you feel it tighten but the growing wetness in your swollen cunt is also concerning. You continue anyway far too warped in pleasure. Chrollo took a his two fingers and pressed it against your clit. You gagged in pleasure at the touch alone. Already so sensitive and on the verge of over simulation you welcome it anyway. He rubbed your clit with vigor. “Cum for my baby, cum.” The knot in your stomach released. The sound of pleasure that tore from your throat filled the room and it matched Chrollo’s deep, husky moans. He came inside you and you squirted all over his thighs. You stood there in the mutual mess you made. His cock softened inside you with another kiss on your shoulder he removed himself. You felt weak in your legs but he was quick to support you. “You did good.” He complimented as you could only greet him with a tired nod. He lifted you from your feet and carried you bridal style. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said while pressing a firm kiss on your forehead.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo smut #chrollo x y/n #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh chrollo #hxh smut #hxh x reader #hxh.#cl.#tm.#nsfw.

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digital-dhampirs · 3 years

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thank you very much for the ask, @kachowwwww !

I did do a covernalysis for Vol 3, which you can read here: [https://digital-dhampirs.tumblr.com/post/168641851375/here-it-is-the-beautiful-twosome-vanitas-no ], but after staring at the cover of the volume for a little while I’ve started to notice some stuff I didn’t see way back in my original post from 2017. So! I will be doing an all new (hopefully improved) covernalysis four years later! oh by the holy glow of the blue moon it’s been four years

this is technically a part 2, but it’s completely separate from the first part! feel free to just read one or the other..!

VnC Volume 3 covernalysis: part 2

Volume 3 is our first cover featuring multiple characters together, and boy is it a fantastic way to start the trend! Vanitas and Noé lie peacefully in a pool of water, a golden frame between them. There is a Lot going on here, so let’s get started with breaking down the frame!

Volume 3’s golden frame is absolutely dripping in Chasseur imagery— the frame is decorated with stacks of skulls similar to those in the catacombs, the design in the frame’s corners is just like the Chasseurs’ six- winged sword symbol, and at the top of the frame we see the high- ranking vampire skull Roland shows our protagonists in chapter 14. Vol 3 contains chapters 11 through 15 of the manga— the time leading up to and the beginning of Vanitas and Noé’s adventures in the catacombs— so these Chasseur designs seem very relevant. We see one of those ever- present butterflies perched on the dead vampire’s skull, a symbol of transformation and rebirth.

We also see daisies growing in one section of the frame, possibly symbolizing innocence, purity, rebirth, fidelity, and/ or new beginnings. Maybe these daisies symbolize the new developments for Vanitas and Noé’s relationship during and after the events in the catacombs? Or maybe they’re a callback to an old Celtic myth in which daisies grew to console parents after the loss of a child? Or maybe something else!

The other plant featured on this frame is ivy— a symbol of attachment, immortality, fidelity, and eternity. Both daisies and ivy have something to do with eternal life and eternal faithfulness, which is very interesting considering Vanitas’s eventual demise. Ivy is a plant that holds on to things and doesn’t let go, which is pretty neat considering the events of chapter 53..!

There’s one last part of the volume 3 frame I want to mention before moving on to the rest of the cover— the skeletal hands adorning it. Two of the hands are holding the inside edges of the frame, reminiscent of the hands on Vanitas’s frame in volume 1, and two more are holding the vampire skull in a manner eerily similar to the way the Teacher’s hands frame Noé’s face on the cover of Volume 2.

The volume 3 frame has a lot of lil details combining aspects of Vanitas and Noé’s frames from the two previous volumes— the rectangular shape of Vani’s frame with the skull at the top, the row of beads and stick bone decoration thingys (if anyone knows what those things are please tell me I’ve been wondering what they are for literal years at this point) from Noé’s frame, the skeleton hands from volume 1 in the Teacher’s position from volume 2… the Volume 3 frame might have a lot of chasseur elements, but it’s also a combination of Vanitas and Noé’s symbolic details, once again indicating the pair’s developing relationship.

And with that I think we’re finally done with the frame! Now it’s time to tackle the main subject of this ask, the boys themselves.

Vanitas, smirking, shows his mark from Luna to the viewer. The Book of Vanitas rests on his stomach, and he has two more marks of possession on display— Jeanne’s mark, which is bright red, and a duller purple mark on the other side of his neck. We don’t know who this third mark is from yet, but just based on the mark’s color palette it seems pretty likely it’s from Noé. Unlike the marks from Luna and Jeanne, though, the purple mark isn’t leaking out onto Vanitas’s clothes— it’s just there, like a bruise, and the only place its color is really echoed is on the Book. I don’t really know what this means and I suspect we won’t find out until Noé drinks Vanitas’s blood in uhm… chapter… 105… but it’s a notable difference nonetheless!

Moving from Vanitas to his partner in crime! Noé is lying above Vanitas, with the chain from the Book of Vanitas wrapped around his arm. He’s wearing the comfortable sleep clothes he wore in chapter 11 and seems to be calmly watching Vani as the latter shows off his mark from Luna. Noé’s right hand is resting on the Book of Vanitas’s chain, but he isn’t trying to remove it or snap it, he’s just touching it.

The chain around Noé’s arm reminds me quite a bit of another piece of official art,

But on the Volume 3 cover, the chain around Noé’s arm is Noé’s classic purple-magenta color, rather than Vanitas’s cobalt blue like it is in the official art. This difference in color (along with the drastically different poses between the cover and the official art) makes the official art look far more aggressive and confrontational, while the cover image looks much more peaceful and relaxed despite the chain.

The chain’s color on the Vol 3 cover makes me think that, unlike in the official art, Noé is in control of what’s going on and is choosing to keep things this way. He could get rid of the chain at any time, but keeps it wrapped around his arm. In a way, it’s tying him and Vanitas together rather than dragging them apart.

So we’ve covered the frame, we’ve talked about our protagonists… all that’s left to talk about from this cover is the background/ whatever’s going on with the water Noé and Vani are lying in! And honestly? This is another one of those things I have no ideas about. Water symbolizes a lot of things— life, purity, the moon, transformation, and a whole lot more. But I don’t quite know why Vanitas and Noé are lying in it beyond ‘it looks very pretty’.

One thing I do know for sure, though, is that there are shards of glass lying in the water with the boys. Where might those shards have come from…? My best guess is that the frame between Vani and Noé was originally a complete mirror or picture frame made out of glass, but at some point it was shattered, and now the boys are able to lie down side by side between it.

The internal walls separating Noé and Vanitas start to crumble with their argument during the ball and conversation on the roof, and fall apart a bit more during their time in the catacombs. It’ll still be a very very long time before they can even approach the idea of fully understanding each other, but at this point in the manga they’re slowly getting closer and learning to walk side by side.

Annnnnd with that, I think this covernalysis is complete! For now. Thank you so much for reading this ridiculously wordy covernalysis, and thanks again for this ask! Thinking over a cover again four years after my initial analysis was a truly unique experience— maybe in 2025 I’ll come back to this cover one more time and cringe at this analysis the same way I’m currently cringing over my 2017 cover breakdown. Hope you enjoyed this meta/ analysis/ confused rambling thing!

Fun Fact

This volume’s inside cover features the lovely Dominique! Domi doesn’t feature too heavily in this volume, but she plays a major role in Chapter 12, and we learn a lot about her true feelings for Noé during the chapters she’s in. The color scheme of this inside cover is particularly notable when compared with the vibrant yellow and magenta of Domi’s volume 8 cover— Domi isn’t exactly colorless here, but she’s definitely quite desaturated compared to her volume 8 appearance. The magenta color reflecting on her hair and bow actually seems quite close to.. that… faded………. purple….

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc #covernalysis #meta-ish #i m so inordinately proud of myself for getting slightly better at cover analysis in the past four years #the fun fact is just a joke I swear #unless…….#nah it’s 1000% a joke #unless……….

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

Hello, idk if you’ll see this, nor do you have to take this request. But I’ve been thinking, and thought up: Dream joined the egg, but not because it offered him world domination or a happy family or any of that; no it offered to treat him kindly, to be affectionate, to be a friend, basically offering him human decency. (With an add on of everyone believing it was for some big reason, but the actual reason gets revealed somehow) if that made any sense. (Idk if this counts as an au or not)

[ask: if dream showed up to the red banquet, that would be very sexy of the writers to make him join the eggpire instead of the pro-omlette]

hehe egg!dream has so much potential ,, this is a ficlet i’ve been working on for a while (writer’s block my detested) but i finally finished it up !! it’s a bit unpolished but oh well - they cant all be winners lmao

tw: body horror, blood, injuries, implied torture/abuse, starvation, possession, dark/disturbing imagery, dark content, pandora’s vault/prison arc

Dream gets corrupted by the Egg, because of course he does.

Sapnap trudges through the vine-filled hallway, his face bundled firmly with a holy-water soaked bandana to keep out the worst of the spores. It’s a shoddy defense, but he doesn’t plan to stay long; he’s only been sent on reconnaissance, to see what public enemy number one is planning and get out as quickly as he can. As much as the entire server wants Dream dead, trying to defeat the man the first time was enough of a feat, never mind with the power of a giant demon egg on his side - to try and fight him now would be practically impossible.

The floor squishes underneath his boots, and his lips curl in disgust; the vines are thick and moist and feel ugly and rotten to the core. He can’t imagine anyone being anything but repulsed by the things, but he guesses it makes sense for Dream to be drawn here - corruption attracts corruption, it seems. It only figures that Dream would be desperate enough for power to let himself get possessed by the living - if you could really call it living - embodiment of decay and deterioration itself. The feeling of the floor giving way underneath his footsteps has another wave of revulsion crawling up his throat, though he’s not sure if it’s directed towards the Egg or his former friend or both.

He reaches the end of the hallway, an itching, pulsing feeling of wrong filling the air in the room just beyond the haphazard archway carved into the stone. With careful hands, Sapnap draws the bandana further up his face, making sure that it is tied securely behind his head - just beyond this wall lies the belly of the beast, the heart of the rot slowly but surely spreading its influence over the entire server. Something hums in the air; whispering, otherworldly sounds pierce through his armor and settle beneath his skin; he pushes on. He knows better than to listen, to try and make sense of the words within the noise - from what he’s heard, by the time you understand what it is saying, it’s too late.

He steps inside; the room feels, for the lack of a better word, red. He’s better suited for the place than most, being a Netherborn and therefore more used to the oppressive heat and heaviness of the air, but there’s something undeniably wrong about how this place feels, something entirely Other having made its home in the room. Every inch of the place feels hostile, angry, hungry, recognizing him as someone foreign and wanting nothing more than his destruction. Unlike the Red Forests, which teemed with life - piglins and hoglins and giant fungus - this room is little more than a twisted mimicry, sucking the air dry, leaving little more than husks behind.

His hand immediately goes to his sword, drawing it with a dull, metallic scrape. The room is eerily silent save for the Egg’s hissing whispers, and he frowns; he’d expected an attack, but the room is still, quiet; a mockery of peace that only makes the uneasy feeling in his gut grow further. He trudges forward, watching against the puddles of lava and smoking magma scattered over the floor, but nothing stirs.

There’s a growing pressure against his skull with each step into the room, and his hand tightens on his communicator; they’d set up a stasis chamber, just in case things went south, his way out of this place only a few button presses away. Still, nothing moves; no Bad or Ant popping out of nowhere, weapons in hand, no Dream driving an axe between his shoulder blades as he’s done so many times before in their spars. There’s only the sound of his footsteps against the rotting growths on the floor and his own heartbeat thudding in his ears and the Egg’s warbling voice, beneath it all - beckoning, almost kind.

He swallows, throat dry, and moves forward.

His feet carry him to the back corner of the room, to the rotting, pulsing core of the wrongness plaguing the entire server. Even through his bandana, the air feels foreign, nearly choking him, and he strains his eyes against the glare of the lava to look up at the vines’ rancid heart, the Egg. Up close, it’s almost underwhelming, only about three times his height, hardly coming halfway up to the ceiling of the room. What it doesn’t have in size, however, it makes up in sheer presence; the hissing whispers in his head grow louder, crawling under his skin and between his bones, and he curses under his breath as he prepares to call for his way back. Dream isn’t here; the mission is a bust.

“Sapnap?”

He freezes.

It takes a moment to realize that the voice wasn’t in his head, as raspy and unsettling as it was, and his eyes traced the edges of the Egg to a dull colored shape at its side, completely overlooked in his initial sweep of the room. He watches, a dull horror rising in his chest, as the shape moves, twists around on itself in an entirely unnatural way like a marionette pulled by its strings. A pale dot rises from where it had been hidden against the bright red of the Egg; it’s a face, Dream’s face, covered in clawing vines, stark against the bone-white of his sun-starved skin, vomit racing up his throat at the sight of the vines having made their homes in jagged wounds all over his face and neck and disappearing into the torn scraps of his prison uniform, each one spilling crimson in the form of writhing vines and thorns instead of blood.

“Sapnap,” Dream says again, his mouth moving with the words but something entirely other having made its home in the air of his lungs, a shivering rasp to his voice that lifts and falls with the same desperate hunger that saturates every tainted inch of the room. His neck tips to the side, shifted over by a twisting vine tangled within his hair and wrapping a crown of blood-red thorns over his forehead, tendrils drooping over his face and framing the gaunt edges. “You came.”

“Dream-” the anger comes back, familiar, at the other’s words - the same red-hot rage that had boiled within him in that first and only prison visit (you took so long) but it dissipates as fast as it comes. Dream - if this remnant, this shade, this corrupted, mangled half that seems more corruption than human can even be called the name of one he had once considered his best friend, his brother - stumbles closer, held up by the vines that twist over his shaking legs, one having the pale, ragged edge of a bone clearly having ripped through skin - and Sapnap does throw up, this time, dragging the bandana from his face and heaving bile all over the floor.

“What happened-” he cries, flames licking up his arms in defense when his friend-turned-monster-turned-this steps closer on a wreck of a leg that should not be able to bear weight, stumbles back to a roaring in his ears-

He is mine he came broken came shattered and I gave him everything I gave him his heart’s desire I am his savior his grace he asked for warmth and he asked for comfort and he asked for nothing but for someone to take his pain and he is mine he is mine he is mine

He freezes, hand tightening over his communicator; Dream stares at him with the one dull-green eye not covered by the vines splayed over his too-pale face, mouth moving but no sound coming out. The roaring, angry sound in Sapnap’s ears grows louder, follows the shape of Dream’s lips come join your friend come with me I will give him to you you have failed him once but not again not again he is mine but you can be mine also and you will be together together together

“-pnap! Sapnap!” Puffy’s words crackle over the communicator, harsh and loud and snapping him out of his thoughts, “Pull the switch, Sam! No, he’s not responding- pull the switch-”

The world dips, and he heaves in a shattered breath, lungs finally full as he breathes in clear air for the first time in what feels like an eternity, hacking coughs pulled from his throat as he tears the bandana off in one sputtering gasp for breath.

“Sap- Sapnap,” Sam pitches his voice low, comforting, a hand rubbing up and down his back, but all Sapnap can see is the skeleton of a man held together by red thread, the life leached from his skin and leaving nothing left, he asked for nothing but for someone to take the pain and he is mine he is mine he is mine-

“Sapnap,” Puffy’s voice is tinny with concern, “What happened? You stopped responding and the time passed so we pulled the switch on the stasis chamber- are you alright? Did he attack you?”

“I-” -you have failed him once but not again not again you will be together- “I need a moment.”

He scrambles away, feet carrying him away from Church Prime, away from the Holy Land, away away away until he’s standing on the Community House roof, staring at his hands at this home, destroyed, this home, rebuilt, this home, empty and wrong and a shadow of house for a shadow of a man, a shadow of a friend found, a friend lost- and sobs.

What had he done?

#tw body horror #tw blood #tw torture #tw abuse #tw starvation #tw possession #tw dark imagery #tw disturbing imagery #tw dark content #prison arc #pandora's vault #queue <3 #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

To bargain for immortality pt.3

As it turns out, poison did not kill her. Not by a long shot. Not if the numerous tests with different kinds of poisons were to be believed.

Nicole was currently bent over the sink placed in the corner of Miranda's lab, her assistant hovering behind her with a timer in hand. What was it this time? Hemlock? Belladonna?

She stopped caring when a new wave of blood carrying the replaced tissue from internal damage came rising in her esophagus. With a disgusting gag, it came splashing onto the white porcelain, now stained and coated in crimson multiple times over. She coughed, trying not to let any of the burning mixture remain stagnant in her throat, and focused on the feeling of her body healing itself. It felt, for lack of a better word, like static coursing through her nerves and organs. After that too was gone, and the only thing that remained was the nauseating coppery taste in her mouth, she raised a shaky hand, too tired to speak up.

"Seven minutes, thirty four seconds," Emma announced.

Mother Miranda noted it down, fingers typing quickly over the keyboard.

It was a miracle that Nicole was still able to stand, although leaning a good part of her body weight on the sink thankfully secured to the wall did help. She took a few deep breaths, doing her best to not sound too croaky when she spoke.

"Can I see the results once we're done?"

She could keep track of everything herself of course, but it got difficult when her body was fighting toxins meant to shut it down. And she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't dying of curiosity.

"It's none of your concern," Miranda replied coldly.

That got a scowl to appear on thin blood stained lips, partially hidden by her hunched position. "I stood here quietly while you shoved pill after pill made from every poisonous plant you could get your hands on down my throat. At least grant me the grace of knowing my own body's limitations."

Her reply was little more than a tongue click. She couldn't help a scoff when Miranda simply ignored her request and told her assistant to continue with the next test on their list. Emma picked up one of the numerous pill bottles lined on her employer's desk and came over to Nicole, who unceremoniously grabbed one pill and swallowed it before looking at the label. Cyanide.

Oh for fuck's sake.

Her body's reaction was immediate, heart starting to beat painfully quick while her head started to spin. It was nauseating, the ache seeming to flood her chest and going up her spine in a searing migraine. Not to mention the deep breaths that didn't seem deep enough, as air itself seemed choking, the oxygen not quite reaching where it should. Mild panic started to settle in when black splotches began to cloud her vision and the tingling sensation seemed to battle with the pain for dominance. Before she knew it, her shaky legs gave out under her and the white ceiling of the lab blurred out of focus.

---

She woke up with a start, the bluish lights a painful glare to her eyes. The sound of ticking stopped and Nicole realized it was Emma's timer. She looked down at herself, haphazardly placed on a bed and then at Miranda, typing down a result the ringing in her ears hadn't allowed her to hear. With a few shakes of her head to try and chase the fog in her brain, Nicole finally croaked out: "What the hell happened?"

"The cyanide was damaging cells and keeping them from taking in any oxygen at a slightly faster rate than those cells were getting replaced. Which caused you to lose consciousness."

Miranda's tone was just as cold and clinical as ever, but a slight smirk tugged at her lips when she continued, the excited scientists buried under the mask of a goddess showing a crumb of itself.

"Although I'm quite certain we solved the mystery behind the accelerated heart rate. All previous tests show that it takes no longer than a few minutes to recover, while this took over twenty five."

Nicole was still fighting some mild dizziness, but she put all the focus on Miranda's words.

"We'll have to rerun the tests under anesthesia, but for now it's safe to assume the healing slows down while unconscious."

She acknowledged the theory with an oh. She wasn't really capable of much conversation at the moment, but she let the thought be metaphorically chewed in her brain. That made sense. If healing was slower after passing out, then her body had a damn good reason to keep her awake, hence the unnaturally high heart rate.

A slow shuddring sigh was let out when Miranda asked her assistant to prepare the anesthetic, laying back down. At least she wouldn't be awake for this one.

It took around double the normal dose to finally get her unconscious. She kept her eyes glued to the needle embedded in her arm until her vision was starting to fail her, the surrounding room becoming nothing more than dark blurs and vague beeping sounds.

People do not dream under anesthesia.

Nicole knew that of course. But as the lab blurred into odd shapes and more or less familiar places, there wasn't really a better word to describe it. Perhaps a result, she would later muse, of her overactive brain, fighting for consciousness at any given moment as it now had an instinctual need to stay awake.

That need manifested itself in the vague image of one of the castle's hallways. It was in an old wing, not frequently used by many other than the cleaning staff. She was walking along the wall, using it to compensate for her wobbly legs, and looked around for something. What exactly, was beyond her comprehension at the moment, but that didn't stop her from stumbling inside each room on her path, looking around the bright and beautifully decorated space, only to exit and continue down the hallway.

Something. Something ugh.

Nicole tried not to lean on the wall too much when she got to the golden frame of a painting, not wanting to risk damaging it. Slowly walking around, she threw a glance at the canvas when she was fully in front of it. She frowned.

It was the familiar portrait of all three sisters, dressed in period appropriate clothing and hair up into small curls. Their eyes, painted in such a way that they seemed to follow any onlookers around, greeted her with soft expressions. Some details seemed different though. They were small, and it took a bit of effort to notice how the brushstrokes seemed to have shifted ever so slightly in places. A familiar rose tattoo was present, albeit quite faint, on each of their foreheads, and their features seemed a little less soft and more akin to how Alcina would paint them. Nicole stopped to look at Cassandra's hand for a little longer, as if something was supposed to have changed there too. But before she had time to dwell on that, the realization that the painting should not be there dawned on her. Why would Alcina move it? And to a near abandoned wing of the castle no less. If she remembered correctly, that portrait had been at the main entrance for decades.

Nevermind that, she could just ask Alcina herself if they crossed paths. She kept walking down the hallway, trying to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that something was off. Off, like the slightly misplaced furniture, or the lack of certain decorations, or antique objects that she knew for a fact were on display on a completely different wing. No, Nicole kept looking through every room she came across, in search of something her foggy mind couldn't quite grasp the memory of.

She finally reached one of the more populated areas, and although still not fully able to grasp her surroundings and walk around without any support, a shiver still ran down her spine. The off-putting feeling turned to dread with the realization that she was completely alone. No maid or other staff member has crossed paths with her in what felt like an eternity. No sound could be heard aside from her own breathing and a faint beeping coming from outside. At that moment, Nicole longed for the sound of giggling or the shuffling of a broom, hell even the sound of lycans howling outside. Anything.

By that point, shuffling against the wall felt more of a psychological need than a physical one. There was a fear that accompanied anyone when you found yourself in a place that seemed so unlike its normal self, and Nicole tried to make herself smaller than she already was in the eventuality that something would pounce out from the silence and tear her to shreds.

She found herself traversing another corridor littered with numerous doors to guest bedrooms or simply storage rooms. Each was opened one by one, whatever laid behind it inspected, and then shut again. Rinse and repeat. Repeat until Nicole found herself in front of an oddly familiar door. It had nothing special, the crest and color exactly the same as the ones she had left behind, but its position seemed to tug at her memories.

The door was pushed open, a slight creak accompanying the movement, and Nicole found herself in a well lit office. It was obviously a rarely used one, the shelves only holding a small number of oddly organized files and boxes, while the chair was tucked under a large desk. The plush carpet underfoot caught her attention, beautiful black, white and golden motifs waved around each other in an intricate pattern. She walked across it, up to the desk and crouched down to run her fingers on the old worn wood of small drawers. The iron handles used to open them seemed to be gone from all but the topmost one, which she opened slowly.

Oh.

The drawer was empty save for two familiar objects, a pair of matching rings with minuscule branches in flower engraved on them. She picked them both up but almost dropped them back when a set of hurried footsteps sliced through the dead silence just outside the room.

There was no time to scramble for a hiding spot, especially not with how her head started to spin the moment she stood up again. All she could do was put the hand that wasn't holding the rings on the desk to support herself and watch as the door swung open.

A sigh of relief flew past cracked lips at the sight of confused golden eyes framed by dark locks of hair. Cassandra was standing at the entrance, head cocked slightly to the side.

"Did you lose it again?"

There was a hint of annoyance in her tone, but it was mostly drowned out by an amused chuckle as she walked up to her.

"No, I-..." Did I? "I'm sorry."

Cassandra simply took one of the bands and wordlessly slid it on Nicole's ring finger, gesture that was imitated in turn.

"Why are they here?" Nicole's question was barely a whisper, either due to the dizziness she felt or the cemetery-like silence that almost demanded not to be disturbed. "I know I instructed the staff to bring mine to my room if they find it."

"Oh it wasn't any of the staff members," Cassandra replied matter of factly, even waving a hand to dismiss the apparently absurd idea.

"Then who?"

"I don't know."

Nicole frowned. She pinched the bridge of her nose trying to chase away the eerie feeling that seemed to have made its roots deep inside her mind. Cassandra's voice seemed off, and that beeping from earlier seemed to close in ever so slightly.

"Why here?" She repeated.

Her wife only shrugged and looked around the room, taking her time with the reply.

"Isn't this where we first saw each other?"

Right. That's why the office was so familiar. The memory of Lady Dimitrescu, so beyond intimidating at the time, sitting in the chair and interviewing her for a maid's position came flooding her foggy brain. Then the giggles and the rather dramatic entry and the small bickering.

"Are you waking up?"

If Cassandra wasn't so close to her, she would've thought a third person had spoken. Her wife's voice seemed off before, but now it didn't even sound like her own. Familiar, yes, but the regal icy tone belonged to someone else.

Nicole tried to instinctively put some space between them, only for Cassandra's expression to twist with concern, furrowed brows over soft golden, always so uncharacteristically soft when pointed at her. Cassandra opened her mouth to speak again, but the beeping came in louder, almost as if making its way from her throat with the sole purpose of attempting to bust her eardrums.

The room seemed to rapidly bleed out of focus, details replaced by black dots and blurry lines. Cassandra's shape slowly morphed, her beautiful black dress leaving way to a plain lab coat and golden eyes turning into icy green, ever calculating and scrutinizing. Incessant beeps from the cardiac monitor brought her back to consciousness more rudely than she would've liked.

Nicole shook her head slightly, trying to chase away the last effects of anesthesia. Her body seemed eager to oblige, quickly trying to wake up and be back on her feet. Not that she had any intention of actually getting up, but soon enough, she was looking around the space and all the pristine equipment held within. Emma was busy arranging vials and pill bottles inside a cabinet while Miranda was by the bed typing away, nails annoyingly loud on the keyboard. She shook her head once again, and looked to the opposite wall, where a clock was ticking. It was almost 11 p.m. and Nicole let out a soft groan thinking about how she'd been under anesthesia for about three hours and how her family was probably waiting for her to get back.

She laid her head on the uncomfortable pillow while waiting for the goddess wannabe to be done with her observations on her current lab rat, which meant Nicole, and finally dismiss her.

It took a moment to realize that Miranda had turned towards her and pushed her laptop close to the side of the desk, screen facing Nicole. After receiving a confused look, the woman rolled her eyes as if she were a teacher explaining basic maths for the hundredth time.

"You wanted to see the results."

Nicole's confused expression did not change, though now it was more directed towards the suspicious willingness to give what she asked for. Nonetheless she scooted to the side of the bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge, and she narrowed her eyes at the file on the screen.

---

Date: 23rd April 2012

Subject: Nicole [REDACTED] Dimitrescu

Mutation experiments - 2 (Regeneration - 2)

Resistance and healing time to various poisonous plants (in the form of highly concentrated pills or injectable) and other toxins. First number refers to the healing time while conscious and the second while unconscious.

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) - 2'13" // 6'30"

Rosary pea (Abrus precatorius) - 2'20" // 7'02"

Crowbane (Cicuta virosa) - 2'40" // 7'12"

Wolfsbane (Aconitum lycoctonum) - 3'30" // 8'11"

Hemlock (Conium maculatum) - 3'18" // 8'28"

Oleander (Nerium oleander) - 3'55" // 10'17"

Ricin (Ricinus communis) - 5'58" // 16'19"

Arsenic, 100mg - 7'34" // 21'38"

Cyanide, 50mg - / // 26'53"

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #mother miranda #fanfic #to bargain for immortality #whacky dream be whacky #tw torture

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power-of-plot · 3 years

Note

Iida, Mirio, and Aizawa dating hcs please

Of course! But holy cow apparently this seriously inspired me, i hope this is ok xd

I I D A

Oh yes robot boi. Iida is someone nerdy in every aspect, his language even with close friends like Midoriya is very formal and polite, the same rule would apply when it comes to his significant other. Unlike what some would think, this doesn’t give your conversations a cold touch, on the contrary, it’d make him look chivalrous.

He’s a classic gentleman, he’d be the kind who opens the door and waits for you to walk in first or gives you his jacket when it’s too cold and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with, the second one would happen often in the classroom if you’re sensitive to cold. We are talking about U.A have you seen the measures of the classrooms and the entire area? It’s impossible they don’t have those huge air conditioners.

He highly respects the rules wich means, no PDA, on a certain level, no kisses to be specific. That doesn’t mean he won’t give you any affection, though every gear of his robotic soul is having a bad time working properly inside, he’d hold your hand or put his over your shoulder pulling you close when you’re sitting together.

He definitely would do that thing of caressing you with his thumb. As you expected it from Tenya, this is a sort of robotic motion, his finger would move like a metronome but that doesn’t make it any less nicer, he is slow and gentle.

Honestly, he’d be nervous most of the time. ALSO! Tenya is very thoughtful, he’d ask (often verbally) if you’re okay with whatever he’d do, as times goes by the questions turn non verbal, for example he’d hold his hand above yours waiting for you to give green light or grasp it.

“..Can i hold your hand?” “Sure!” “*DEEP INHALE AND BLUSH*” He couldn’t help to blush the first times. Specially on the firsT kiss but how would it be? A clasic scenenario after classes! And after you both have grown comfortable enough to each other’s touch. Seriously, if you like to go slow he's got you.

You two would be walking around in the campus after classes and he feels the tension grow.. he is analyzing every detail, he wants to ask but what if things get extremely awkward, he’s very tall- he’d have to bend down slightly (unless you’re nearly as tall as him) to do it so what if you flinch because it was unexpected.. he stops walking, he simply manages to say your name. You stared into each other's eye and then it happened, a big smile unexplainably forms in his lips complemented by a scarlet color across his whole face, his haircut made his head look like a strawberry.

There are going to be days you don't see him as much as you'd like, Tenya is very comitted to his hero patrols, he certainly would do extra hours from time to time or if the situation called for it. Let him know you like his hero suit! He’s thankful it has a helmet otherwise his flustered face would be exposed.

Whatever position you cuddle in Iida would wrap his arms around you, not only that, he’d interlock his fingers so he has a nice grip. His cuddles would be the classic spooning or having your head on his shoulder with your arm over his chest and in case you worry about his arm, this guy doesn’t know limb numbness- he literally tenses and holds his arms up every five minutes.

He sends good morning/good night texts often on the weekends since you're practically living together thanks to the dormitory system, they vary depending on the day, some are a reminder to get a proper amount of sleep or! To get done with homework so you can enjoy your free time and maybe ask if he can go over to study *cough spend time together*

He'd send the classic heart emoji, very detailed but easy to comprehend videos explaining any difficult lesson and history related stuff like paint restorations or facts about iconic sculptures. Please don’t send him those videos of people accidentally breaking things on museums, he’s gonna feel like something breaks inside.

M I R I O

This ray of sunshine fell for you? Your luck is so big you’d get jackpot on a slot machine on the first try-. You’re undeniably going to be good friends with Tamaki and Nejire, specially her, expect to get questions one after another without the chance to reply when she finds out you’re Mirio’s significant other, Tamaki would take it way better.

Mirio’s goofyness and confidence combined with his feelings give a unique result: he literally spoke to the boss of mafia himself twice like he was the manager in a store, but, the case is different when you’re around, he’s saying and actually good joke and suddenly.. it goes away, his mind goes blank. “So what happened after Mirio..?” “Ah.. i had practiced a lot, i don’t know what happened haha my bad!”

You’re going to get tons of his jokes and something more “intense” such as the classic “What’s in your shirt?” to make you look down so he can boop your nose with his finger, you should expect some gentle headpats as well.

If you’re shy he’s cool about it, he knows what do and adaptates to your pace, you’d start off with hand holding or rather pinky holding, he’d interwine his pinky with yours and show a bright smile. His hugs are the warmest, he doesn’t do it half-assesly, when you hug, YOU HUG, he uses both arms and slightly lifts you up! Height or strength are not a problem he’s actually one cm taller than Iida i just found out

He seems like the kind who loses their pen or eraser despite seeing it on their desk just one minute ago, if you happen to be that kind as well you’re both going to lay down your faith on poor Tamaki’s hands, i’m sure he has all his material complete.

He hardly ever gets nervous or scared by anything, things like the first kiss would go pretty smooth, instead of blushing intensely he’d just chuckle with slight disbelief, his mind is racing like “I just did that? woah!”. The biggest trouble for him would be gifts, he wants it to be perfect but asking Nejire for advice is not a good idea, roses are too formal and they don’t last long, going to the movies seems a little cliche.. his first gift would end up being a plushie of your favorite animal and a bamboo.

He’d sneak a kiss or two, specially before the class is begginning a training session, he’d send you a text telling you to go outside the changing rooms and oop! He phases through the wall poking out his head to give you a kiss kiss. If you don’t mind a prank from time to time he’d give a little scare using his quirk.

This guy is the big spoon during cuddles, no arguing! He could switch but as time goes by he’d slowly shift into the big spoon, that’s just the way he is, the most usual position would be where you’re facing each other with your limbs wrapping around the other’s body. Waking up with him would be adorable and attractive, morning and night are the only times of the day when his hair isn’t gelled into his All Might-like hairstyle, those blonde locks would frame his face, a heavenly sight.

Would send you a pic of stray animals he rescued with a “:D!” and Sir. Nighteye 'torturing' Bubble girl (half of his head visibly on a corner of the image). If you longed for a pet badly he would bring a nice dog/cat he finds around! In his hero suit to make the moment more special.

He uses the smiling emojis and emoticons! And shares videos of animals he finds adorable, if you sent him fails videos he'd laugh as long as the falls don't seem extreme or too severe, small trips on the beach or slips on the snow are fine. Mirio sends gifs i just know.

A I Z A W A

Have you taken a look at him? You must be a big The Walking Dead fan to like him lmao. Aizawa gives me an unexplainable gut feeling that he'd prefer a civilian (perhaps quirkless?) significant other over a hero, he wouldn't want his partner to go into the same dangerous situations he does.

His affection is tired, let me explain, he'd hug you and all that physical stuff but it'd kinda feel like his arms fall limply around you, still, even with his minuscule clingyness he loves you with all his might! He doesn't fall for anyone.

Not very fond of PDA, in public he'd preferr temple/forehead kisses and having your hand on the crook of his arm instead of hand holding (thinking about it Iida would do that too), seems more discret and! you don't let go when his hands are busy. He'd initiates it by gently resting your hand on his arm and sinking his hand into his pocket.

Surprise! He does smile, not that maniactic-looking grin he has sometimes during his shifts at U.A when a student impresses him, this one is less wide but somehow more tender and sweet, he tilts his head and for once his eyes seem relaxed, a relationship would make his cheeks hurt.. either for he's not used to smile so much or he smiles more than he thought he would.

If you give him a cat.. that's a strong blow straight to one of his weakest spots, he'd stare both at you and the kitten with a dumbfounded look before picking it up in his arm like a baby, his hand gravitates towards his it's head giving some nice pets before he shows a rare and somewhat bright smile "Thank you very much." Next time have a camera ready damnit! That smile rarely shows up.

He's practical, he wants his gifts to be nice but useful as well. He’d get you those mugs with candies inside, you get the candy and you can use the mug later for your coffee or tea; a power bank with a nice color or design and in case he choses something smaller: a bamboo, those one don’t wither away. Aizawa is fine with whatever you get for him, big or small he appreciates it. Sweaters, scarfs and blankets would be his favorite thing to get though, he likes to stay warm while working late at night

He’s sneaky, as an underground hero he’s used to work at times when the streets look disolated and the dark crime has more freedom to do as it pleases, he wouldn’t want to wake you up unless you asked him to. He’d leave a note on is pillow with the time he wrote it at and a short loving phrase like “i love you, i’ll be back soon, good morning”, before he leaves he’d always lift the sheet up to your neck or drag it away if you seem to be kicking it off you and give you a small kiss.

You’d find him passed out in his sleeping bag with his laptop besides him at random spots of his appartment, if it wasn’t because of the unatura position he adopts to fit in his sleeping bag he’d give you a death scare ‘cause let’s be honest he doesn’t look one hundred percent alive even when he’s awake. “Shota..? Shota can you hear me?!” “I’m not dead.”

Hibrid of big-small spoon. Most of the times you cuddle he’s asleep and you go snuggle him, his hair is a mess so better prepare to get tickled all night. He pull you close the best way he can when you’re behind him, not very comfortable for his arm but it’s worth it. He’d have you like a pillow over him, his chin over your head and both arms around you.

This man doesn’t bother typing when he can use his voice, the only situations he uses regular text messages are when he’s on shift or with you sleeping next to him. Send him gifs of kittens and a ‘i love you’ it instanstly gives him a good mood! He’d send pics of cats he sees around and gifts he bought you, doesn’t use emojis.

*COLLAPSES ON THE GROUND* Big oof- requests are open.

#mha headcanons #aizawa x reader #iida x reader #mirio x reader #fluff headcanons #requests open #mha fluff #fluff requests #my hero imagines #my hero academia #my brain is dying

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

Delayed Mourning

Going Angst Day 5: Death

_________________________________________

It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted.

“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.

“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”

“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on.

“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”

“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”

“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”

“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”

“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”

Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie.

“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.

“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers.

“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”

“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.

“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”

“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...

“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”

“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”

“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”

“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her.

She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.

“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”

“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.

“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?

“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand.

“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”

“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom.

“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.

“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”

“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”

XxX

“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!”

“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.

“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”

“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”

Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.

“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.

“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”

“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”

“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”

“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”

“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”

#going angst week 2021 #*jazz hands* I uh finally contributed #this is another interesting thing that just sorta happened #I was actually rereading and writing more for Side Effects when I realized that someone could follow the paper trail of the accident #which led me to a tiny lil GIW Investigator who blew Dannys secret wide open #which *then* led me to the tragedy of Maddie learning of her child's 'death' second hand but over a year after a fact #there's something about delayed tragedy... thinking everythings ok only to learn it hasn't been for a while #Love Mads but btw her an Jack shes the one who seems the more likely to take offense to her son's ghost haunting his own life #to keep playing along and pretending to be alive #him secretly being Phantom was the final straw #Both pretending to be Danny then *teasing* her when he saw her as a ghost #(obviously thats not the case but Maddie believes was Made To Believe it was)#Oh I wanted to strange Agent S this whole time typing #the blatant.... manipulation #Maddie may feel free to grieve now but her child's torment was only beginning #haha good times see ya

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