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raebayhc · 3 years

Text

Girls Night Out

warnings: implied virgin, fingering, lesbian implied, bi implied, public sex, smut, fluff, angst

word count: 2164

summary: you along with your groups of friends decide to have a girls' night for the first time in a while, things get heated and your friends end up taking turns using your body.

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It was a Thursday night and you along with the other ladies who went to the same college as you decided to go out and have a girls’ night. Yall planned on going to see a movie, going out for drinks, then finally retiring to Sasha’s barn where yall planned to stay up late telling spooky stories trying to freak one another out. Normally you wouldn’t agree to something like this because socially you were a lost cause, you had many friends and were very close to them. However, when it came to hanging out in large groups and even going out in public with the group, that’s when you started to get anxious. Your friends always had your back though and you knew that. Ultimately you decide not to fret too much and just have fun.

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It was the beginning of a very long night, you and pieck were roommates so yall got ready at the same time and left together to meet everyone else at the theatre. On the ride there pieck looked over to you and broke the silence- “if it becomes too much just let me know, I’m good to go home anytime.. Okay darling?” she patted your thigh and you nodded waiting for her warm hand to leave its place. It never did. She kept her hand on your thigh occasionally tapping to the beat of the music she turned on after yall briefly spoke. You felt your cheeks begin to warm as you peered out the window. Nobody within the group of friends knew you swung that way you wouldn’t dare tell them fearing the absolute worst. You knew they would love you no matter what and you never thought they would say anything hurtful but you still kept your little secret to yourself.

Piecks hand remained on you the whole car ride to the theatre. When yall arrived you hopped out of the car with intent... That intent being getting away from under piecks touch as you know you wouldn’t be able to hide your heavy breath for much longer. You played it off as getting “all excited” about seeing the movie when you really just wanted to escape. You waited as pieck slowly gathered her items and met you outside the car, yall then proceeded to walk through the glass doors into the theatre where the rest of the girls were already waiting.

“Yo what took yall so long??” Sasha said while stuffing her face full of popcorn. “Yeah, we thought we were gonna miss the movie because of you two” Ymir followed, whilst rolling her eyes. You look around to check everyone out, Historia and Ymir were clinging together, as usual, Sasha and Mikasa playing “hot hands” in the corner. You laughed as Mikasa gagged after Sasha got butter all over her hands. Pieck walked off to go meet hitch at the counter to get some candy. You giggled to yourself and told the girls that the movie was going to start soon and yall should probably head to yalls seats.

Finally, in yalls seats waiting for the movie to begin, you were sat between Sasha and Mikasa. You were definitely closer to these two than you were anyone else. Yall had been a trio since fourth grade and nothing could ever split yall apart. Nothing. All of the ladies were quite touchy with each other, it was all platonic of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Sasha snatched your right hand and hugged your shoulder burying her nose in the crook on your neck as a monster popped out at the screen. “Why would you choose a horror movie when you can't handle them” you whispered to Sasha to which she replied “because I like the way it makes me feel y/n, I get all tingly and itchy” you rolled your eyes holding back a chuckle so you wouldn’t disturb the others during the quiet scene.

You felt a slight tug at your left hand as Mikasa habitually grabs your hand. She tends to do that when she has nothing to do with her hands, it “helps her stay focused” she has explained to you a million times. Between Sashas breath on your neck and Mikasa drawing circles on your hand with her index you couldn’t help but squirm. You go to whisper something about the movie to Mikasa when she goes to do the same, your faces come within an inch of each other, noses barely touching you feel her breath out her nose as it fans across your lips. Your face turns bright pink as you halt in surprise. “I wanted to point out that actor….. Since we’ve spoken about them before…” she spoke softly. You replied with a small “me too…”. Yall have yet to part until you are broken up by screams as the movie takes a turn and Sasha yanks your arm “AHHHHH Y/N HELP!!!!!” Sasha screams in a high-pitched tone. You turn breaking your eye contact with Mikasa “Sasha! Be quiet we arent the only ones here!” you jab at her as you apologetically smile at the others in the theatre. You momentarily forgot about the moment you and Mikasa had until she takes her hand and places it on the back of your neck. Thumb swiping up and down, she pulls you a bit closer to whisper “awfully close weren’t we…” she lets that sentence linger before playfully giggling and removing her hand from your nape.

The movie was finally over and you were one of the last to leave your seat, since you decided to pick up all the popcorn Sasha had dropped after one of the jumpscares, you stand up, lifting your arms towards the ceiling, stretching and letting out a soft moan. You felt hands slither from the small of your back to the front of your hips “wow y/n, you have a hot moan. Whoever sleeps with you must be lucky” Ymir says before shifting you to the side to make way for her and historia. “Ugh, Ymir how many times do I have to tell you it’s not ladylike to talk about such things so casually” “I know I know I’m sorry... But it had to be pointed out” Ymir shrugged “she does have a point y/n.. You have an attractive voice it makes sense your moans would be..” historia pitches in and she looks you up and down before continuing “h o t” she lingers on the t a bit before moving on. You could feel your arousal pooling. The ladies seem different tonight... Maybe it’s just you... Maybe it’s not... They walk out and you follow suit.

You decide to ride with hitch since yall haven’t spoken a lot tonight, you ask her about life and she goes on to rant about her boyfriend noting that he’s not good in bed and she hates his haircut, she finishes her rant off with “ugh maybe I should just switch to girls! You’d date me right y/n?” you pause for a moment then reply with a simple “who wouldn’t!” a simple sentence yet complex at the same time. She turns to you and examines your face “you know I think id be a top if I were with a girl… in fact, you’d make a perfect bottom for me..” her eyes linger a bit too long, your skin crawling whilst illuminated by the red light yall were stopped at. It flashes green and her eyes return to the road “of course if I was single and into girls hahaha” she plays it off.

Yall arrive at the bar shortly after Sasha and Mikasa who had taken the same car and followed by Ymir who carpooled with historia. Mikasa and Sahsa hand out everyone’s paper wristbands, Sasha stops in front of you takes your hand, and putting it on for you. She didn’t do it for anyone else… just you. You decided you were overthinking and you moved on, walking into the club you were bombarded with loud music busybodies and the smell of alcohol. You were stressed, so many people, so many noises, so many smells. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Pieck noticed your uneasiness and placed her hand on the small of your back, she led you to a dark hallway filled with heavy pheromones and kissing partners, past that was a bathroom to which she leads you, pushed you in, followed after you, and locked the door. “Wh-” pieck covered your mouth with a single finger, “I noticed your stress, we can leave if you need y/n” a look of sorrow on her face. “No I’m fine it was just a lot at once I’m sorry, I’m okay now” you push out with a soft smile. Her body moving closer to you she wraps an arm around you pulling you closer “baby… tell me if you need anything, mmkay?” she purrs into your neck giving it a soft peck. Your arousal beginning to pool again you squeeze your thighs.

She excuses herself letting you go and leaving the bathroom. Turning around to face the mirror you scold yourself for acting the way you are when your friends are just being nice, they’d probably feel so grossed out if they knew your cunt was getting all nice and soaked for them, you thought. “Maybe I just need to relieve some stress… yeah that's all it is… built-up stress…” you hiked up the mini skirt that you decided to wear today above your hips and you pulled your new pink lace panties to the side. Beginning to slide your fingers over your unclothed clit the door rattles “hey bear, pieck said you weren’t feeling well so I brought you a dri-” historias sentence is cut short when she looks up to see you sitting on the counter sprawled open like a book. “I’m so so-” you begin before she hurriedly shuts and locks the door behind her.

“I- i- can explain-” she cuts you off before you get a chance to explain “oh bear..” a slight purr in her voice “who knew you had such a perfect pussy?.. All this time you’ve been hiding it from me?” she pouts, you’ve never seen her act this way much less talk this way before. Shocked by her actions you freeze, she steps closer and peers up into your eyes, lifting a hand to show she has her pinky and index slightly bent, she speaks “..may I?” if this was any other night you would freak out, apologize, get dressed quickly and leave, but for some reason you cant. “Please do” a slight whininess in your voice. Taking her ring and middle finger she traces a line from your entrance to your clit making you twitch once she reaches the small bud. She chuckles a bit and continues, pushing her middle finger into you, slowly but surely, you lay your head back resting it on the mirror. A low groan leaves her throat as you tighten around her finger “y/n… can I ask you a question? Hmm?” “nghh yes” you manage to push out through cries and moans. “You’re a virgin aren’t you, bear? Nobody has ever touched this perfect little body. Nobody has ever stuck their fingers in you either, huh?” you nod trying to keep sane while her pace quickens, you squint your eyes shut forcing tears out and down the sides of your face. Your response influenced her as she moved faster prodding another finger at your entrance and pushing it in with her other. “Ahh fuck ‘ri’” RI was a name you’ve called her since yall first met, originally made because you couldn’t remember her full name but it kind of just stuck throughout the years. “I’m gonna- I think I’m g-” cut off by the feeling of her warm tongue prodding your clit, dangerously licking and lapping, boy did she know how to please, and that she did. “RI oh shit” you grab a fistful of her hair as your orgasm hits, continuing to finger fuck you and lightly lick your sensitive bud she helps you ride out your high. “..- first, right?” you couldn’t make out what she said through your hazy mindset “what RI?” she repeats “I was your first, right??” you nod with lazy eyes, she smiles a big smile then gives you a sloppy kiss, you groan into her lips.

She cleans you up then helps you off the counter. Now realizing what had just happened you panic pushing out a quick “oh my goodness ri I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to put you in that position” she chuckles “don’t worry bear there are plenty of other positions I plan to have you in” before you could really digest that she tugs at your wrist leading you out to the main hallway and back to your groups of friends. The night has only begun….

THE END Pt. 1

this is my first fanfic ever so I'm sorry if it's bad!! I will continue to improve trust me! also, this will be a multi-part series so stay updated!

#aot #girls love #fanfic #smut #pieck finger #historia reiss #mikasa ackerman #hitch aot #ymir aot #sasha braus #mikasa x reader #sasha x reader #hitch x reader #pieck x reader #ymir x reader #historia x reader

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stitchwork-madness26 · 3 years

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Just like you

Paring:2BDamned x employer!reader

Warning:so much adorable shit, subtle swearing tho

Notes:the employer reader is from @rotshop and this was inspired by a photo they made of the employer reader,2BDamned, and a little baby grunt. Adorable shit. Would have made this a while back but i was frankly to lazy lol.

So ya employer reader and doc being parents to a baby grunt. Enjoy :3

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How long has it been now? Weeks? Months? A year? Time can be a bit of a blur after the suns disappearance, you can lose track of how many days it has been as the sky always remained that dark red hue. Even if a long time as passed you can still recall the same events that happened some time ago.

You had joined hank,sanford, and deimos on a raid, no reason in particular you just wanted to come along. A tingling feeling that something will happen, uncertain if it was the feeling of impending doom looming over your head, or something far different. Whatever it was you wanted to be present for it, a change you wouldn't want to miss after endless raiding and passing out from the random drops in temperatures as of late. Damn your cold bloodedness...

The building you all came across was empty, almost barren much to hanks dismay. Dust and cobwebs littered about with some knocked over desks,chairs, and broken lab equipment. Deimos and sanford wandered to the next room to find supplies on the right and hank went up ahead to a room across the entrance,normally you would follow hank or the duo but decided to go on your own for a change of pace and go to the room on the left.

The lights in the room flickers, barely holding onto the ceiling from their age but they still did their purpose. Despite the flickering you can still see everything fine, you didnt see nothing special at 1st just knocked over tables and a dry blood covered vending machine until in your peripheral vision you saw something move.

You was not alarmed or afraid, the thing looked small, almost the size of a mouse compared to you it couldn't possibly be anything harmful. Yet something told you to check what it was, silently you wandered over to where it moved, behind a bar that was in the room with broken glass all around. When you peeked over to see what it was you saw a grunt, it was smaller then a average, one less then half of the size of one. A small child...

"Hello" you said as calmly as you can muster, a jump and a small squeal was the childs response before it cowers and starts to cry "go away! Go away scary monster!!" It cried, you did not take offense. A faceless being made of shadow and as tall as you are can scare anyone, even to a poor defenseless child "its ok little one i wont hurt you..." You attempted the calm voice again, you receive no response as the child continued to cry in fear. You wouldn't want to leave it alone, so you waited for the others to find you and stayed out of the childs line of sight so you dont scare it more then you are.

Once the others came you asked sanford or deimos to carry the child to the van, hank scared the child too so you did not bother to ask him. After several minutes deimos managed to pick up the child and you all went on your way back to the HQ...

It did not take a lot to convince 2B to let the child stay, it only took you a simple phrase "i am adopting them, dont stop me" with determination in your tone. He only sighed, frankly a little tired from all the shit the group has gone through and mumbles a "ok" leaving it at that. The child had no name, so you named them with a name that even a employer like yourself would be jealous of but you sometimes still call them little one,because they are.

The child trusted 2b right away, clinging onto him like they saw a monster under the bed...only the monster was you. Whenever you get close to them both the child hugs him and cries, begging him to make the monster go away. 2b tries his best to claim you are not a monster and your not there to hurt them but he's not the very best at consoling people. It does hurt a little to see the child be so afraid but you can understand why too, being new to this parenting life it is difficult to know what to do in these situations...at least 2b had your back in this.

Eventually the child called 2b their "dada" and it just stuck, seeing him as their father. You always grin at this with your human like teeth with sharp canines at how adorable it is, whenever the child sees your teeth they always freeze in place and just stares. At this point no longer crying from fear but still freezes up and stares at you like a deer in headlights, you could not tell if they are getting used to your presence or if they had ran out of tears to cry... Either way you assumed it was progress. Seeing the interactions between 2b and the child warmed your heart, they always eager to help 2b with his work or help put bandaids on hank when he gets mildly injured. They even see sanford,deimos, and hank as their uncles now, such as deimos giving them piggy back rides, sanford drawing with them, hell even hank, the most well known killer in nevada, even had a soft spot for the child, letting them climb on him like a tree.

It was all so incredibly sweet and you was fine with it, even if you are just the big monster under the bed to them you are glad they are happy with a nice family.

....

Now its the present day, with you, doc, and the little one only present at the HQ. Looming over your loves shoulder to see him work on the tablet in his hands and the child is drawing with warn out crayons and ripped paper just a few feet away, the child had gotten more comfortable around you but not by much. They never got startled by you anymore but still stares at you like a deer in headlights when you speak to them, they do talk to you though and still address you as "monster" not as (mother or father or other) and you was alright with it. As long as they are getting better.....

"You are lost in your thoughts again" 2b spoke in the comfortable silence "sorry...just wondering some things" you replied with a sigh, standing up straight no longer looming over his shoulder "ill let you get back to work dear" you said before slowly approaching the child "little one?" You spoke in the same calm tone as before,they looked up at you with the same look as before "are you hungry? Do you need anything...?" You asked kindly, they nod their head looked away for a sec before looking back at your featureless face "noodles?" They asked "sure. Ill get you some" you unintentionally grinned with your spooky like teeth and walked out of the room.

As you was getting the food ready for your child the trio had returned from their raid, hank covered in blood with a large machine gun strapped to his back stomped past you and sanford stuck around with you, deimos is nowhere to be found "where is deimos?" You asked sanford "he picked something up for the kid, so he's looking for them" sanford replied, taking a seat on the kitchen table "good to know" you left the conversation at that taking the ramen noodles and walked back to 2bs office, stopping to see deimos walk out. He waves at you "oh hey s/o" he greets "kid wants to talk to you" he continued before walking past "alright?" Confused you walked inside.

2b is still sitting in his chair with his tablet in hand, nothing seemed to change on his part but the little one seemed very excited and happy. You walked over to the child and crouched down to give them their meal, they took the food and set it down and looked up at you happy. No longer full of fear or that wide eyes look they give "look monster look!" They exclaimed, voice sounding a little muffled showing fake vampire teeth in their mouth "i got sharp teeth like you!" They continued, the words almost hit your heart by how cute it is.

You let out a fake gasp, playing along with them "oh! So scary!" You pretend to be afraid, receiving a little giggle from them "rawr!" They screamed with their hands in front of them like they would attack you "oh no! If only someone came to help!" You continued to pretend and glance at 2b, who looks at you with a unamused look in his eyes "raaawwrrr" the child continued to play "aaahh! Doc! Please help!" You pleaded trying your best to hold back a laugh, with that 2b gets up and walks over and picks up the child "gotcha" 2b announced with a subtle grin under his mask "noooo! I wanna scare monster!" The little one laughed, followed by your chuckling. "Rawr!" The child attempted to scare his father "oh no! They got me!" 2b played along too, still holding the child in his arms. It was so uncharacteristic but so adorable from him, you laughed and grabbed them both in a hug "now i caught both of you" you grinned "aaah! Monster got us!!" The child laughed "whatever shall we do?" 2b chuckled.

The little one looked up at you and patted your empty face with their tiny hands "boo!" They yelled and you faked a yell, let them go, fell backwards, and pretended to be dead on the floor. The child laughed "i defeated the monster!" They praised themselves as 2b set them down with a grin, the child wandered over to you and pat your featureless face again "im big and scary just like monster" they smiled before you reached over to pat their head.

"You sure are little one..."

#madness combat #madcom #2b my beloved #2b x reader #auditor reader #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #2bdamned #mc 2bdamned #2bdamned my beloved #i am proud of this one #wholesome family bonding #stitchwork stories #employer reader

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cybertronian-cupid · 3 years

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Spooky season spooky season!!! The only redeeming part of the year imo

Hi can I get a hc for tfa bumblebee, tfa arachnia, and a tfp knockout reacting to a s/o that’s a werewolf/can turn into a wolf? Thank you!

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TFA Bumblebee:

At first, he's really freaked out, cuz... that can't be natural, right? Humans don't just... do that?

He gets really excited soon after, and depending on how comfortable S/O is with their transformation and appearance he will plead with them to help him prank folks.

He might not realize at first that including his s/o's unique ability in a prank might hurt them. Once it's pointed out, though, he apologizes.

If his S/O is down to prank others however, he is ecstatic.

First victim of the prank will have to be Sari, since she'll be great help in pranking everyone else

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TFA Blackarachnia:

As long as her S/O feels okay with their lycanthropy/shapeshifting powers, she'll find it interesting but not much more than that

If S/O feels like their ability is a curse, she'd absolutely be able to relate. She also promises her S/O the two of them will find a way to turn themselves back to being fully human and non-organic respectively.

Halloween however is the one night she can go on a date with her S/O. If she attempts to create a holoform it falls deep into uncanny valley territory. Mass displacement is hard, but manageable, and gets more compliments that the human-but-not-quite-on-second-thought look

S/O also gets similar compliments, and if it didn't draw too much attention, they would absolutely enter and win a costume contest

This is one night of the year the two of them feel a little less like monsters

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TFP Knockout:

His reaction to seeing his s/o transform is something along the lines of "AHA! I knew there had to be some truth in the movies you fleshlings film!"

He would also absolutely tease them about being the "big bad wolf" while he's the stunning "little red riding hood"

Sure, he's a little put off by the fur at first - especially if they happen to transform in the rain -but he won't let any s/o of his look or smell bad. They'll be looking like a pageant husky by the time he's done with them, with their coat smelling and nice and damn near sparkling.

In any case, he loves them, but they better stay away from him if they haven't brushed

They’re not his S/O if they aren’t groomed and pampered. Goes for both flesh and fur

Knockout puts together a male Little Red Riding Hood costume to go out to some haunted houses with S/O and isn't sure if he's amused or disappointed to find they, while absolutely a werewolf, are dressed up in a granny bonnet and gown. A glass of water with fake human dentures included.

#tfa bumblebee #tfa blackarachnia #werewolf s/o #tfp knockout #tfp knockout x s/o #tfa bumblebee x s/o #tfa blackarachnia x s/o

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wooyunhwa · 4 years

Text

kingdom of welcome addiction | C.S.

view pinned post for masterlist!

Genre: smut (mostly suggestive in this part though)

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: blood drinking, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

If you had to read the words pythagorean theorem one more time, you were gonna smash your brains in.

You reached over to your phone, unlocking your screen to the group chat.

y/n: anyone wanna come over and help me with this dumb problem? my heads gonna implode.

chaeyeon: busy tonight, Y/N. lol, just summon a demon or smth.

yuri: lmao that ouija board is still there right? I think we left it under your bed

chaeyeon: I don’t think you summon demons with a ouija board, yuri

y/n: ugh you guys are no help. brb, summoning demon...

You realized how weird this conversation would sound from an outside perspective, but it was a sort of inside joke you had within your friend group. You and your friends had joked about ‘summoning a demon’ before, and you’d even used a Oujia board a few times and done fake seances to freak each other out. The results were always disappointing—not that you ever actually wanted to contact the dead or anything, but you were at least hoping for a spooky story or something you could tell.

You knew they were joking around, but your brain felt a little delirious from all the math churning it into mush.

You switched tabs from your test, typing in the search bar “how to summon a demon”. You chuckled a little under your breath at the ridiculousness. But at least then you could tell your friends you actually tried. They’d get a kick out of that.

You followed a few rabbit holes down some forums, mockingly reciting strings of incomprehensible Latin. If you were gonna do this, you were gonna commit fully.

“You called?”

You scrambled backwards, nearly jumping a foot off the bed at the sudden unfamiliar voice echoing in the room.

Then you saw him.

He was perched on your bookshelf, one leg dangling lackadaisically over the edge, the other folded up at his side. You caught a glimpse of his piercing crimson-red eyes illuminated in the dim candle-lit room. He looked particularly cat-like in his position, a devilish grin painted on his face, what looked like fangs coming to two sharp points in his mouth.

The man picked up a pen from your bookshelf, twirling it in his hand casually with playful twists of his fingers. “You’re new…” he mused, glancing at you up and down. “And... cute. Fresh blood. How'd you get my number, hmm?”

You sat stunned, dizzy from confusion. Your words were lodged in your throat, unable to utter a single sound. This had to be a dream, right? Had you fallen asleep while working on your homework? It wouldn't be the first time.

He tapped his fingers impatiently against the oak of the bookcase, waiting for your next move. The only words you could manage came out in a hoarse croak, shaky and uncertain. "This—I'm dreaming…"

He shook his head, clicking his tongue tauntingly against his teeth. "Oh, there's a lot of things I could do right now to assure you you aren't," he started, the gleam in his eye particularly sinister as he drew his gaze up and down. "But trust me. You wouldn't want that."

“Who—”

“I have a lot of names, but you can just call me San. Your friendly neighborhood demon.” He flashed a fiendish smirk. “Well, maybe don’t linger too much on the ‘friendly’ part.”

“D—demon?”

“What, you didn’t know? You’re the one who summoned me, darling.” He drew out his words, slowly, carefully, continuing to play with the pen in his fingers. The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, as if he had the power to kill you at any moment. He probably did.

He pressed his palms against the top of the shelf to hoist himself off, the books on it threatening to topple with the sudden movement. The minute he vaulted down from the shelf, you were able to get a better look at him.

The first thing that drew your eye was his impossibly broad shoulders, accentuated by the tight cut of his shirt. It contrasted against his tiny waist, cinched in neatly with a belt. His proportions were unreal, and so very fittingly non-human. He was undoubtedly the most incredible sight you'd ever seen in your life, human or otherwise. He made his way over to the bed where you sat. You snapped your laptop closed, pushing it to the side, your blood turning to ice as he inched closer to you. The way he sauntered across the floor almost seemed like he was floating, like gravity was merely a fun game to him.

He poised himself over you, his powerful stance alone commanding you to look at him. His fingernail dragged under your chin with a distinct sting, pulling your gaze up to his intense eyes. It was cold, like a dull knife, causing your body to tremble slightly. His piercing eye-contact was entrancing, even spell-binding—you couldn't tear your eyes away. "How cute," he teased sing-songily, “you’re a virgin.”

Your eyes widened, still pulled in by his magnetic gaze. “How did you—”

"I can smell one from a mile away. The scent… it's just so…" he paused to lick his lips, drawing his tongue slowly over his black metal lip ring. "delicious."

“Anyway, you must have had a reason to summon me, no? A soul to harvest? A sacrifice maybe?” Something about his tone was giddy at the idea. “At your service, darling.” He drew down in a playful bow, his mouth twitching into a smirk.

You hated to say it, but he was entirely your type. From up close, you could see his other piercings more clearly, several earrings lining both ears, glimmering against the cartilage. His right eyebrow donned a shaved slit, decorated with another piercing. Of course the demon you summoned in your dream would be your ideal man. Well, he kind of looked like the edgy Hot-topic boy of your 7th grade self’s dreams, but you couldn’t deny that was still kind of your type still. His jet-black hair framed the sharp cut of his jaw perfectly—you were sure he could see you practically drooling over him at this point. He looked crafted by heaven—hell?—itself.

Even so, no single part of you desired for him to take your virginity right this second. Maybe under different circumstances, but not with the time ticking down on your math assignment and the fact that he was a fucking demon you just conjured into your room.

You shook your lewd thoughts out of your head, worried for a moment that demons might have some sort of mind-reading powers you weren’t aware of. “Well, uh, actually… I need help with my math homework.”

He snickered, his eyes trained on you like prey. “You can’t be serious. Tell me you’re not serious.”

“I’m kind of serious. It’s like 10% of my grade.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth again, breaking eye contact finally, and you felt a sense of relief as you finally had a moment to breathe away from his suffocating glare.“For someone who just summoned a demon you’re a real buzzkill.” He perched himself on the edge of the bed, resting his butt lightly against the edge of the frame. “Fine,” he groaned. “Let’s say I actually helped you. You know how this works, right? If I do something for you, you have to give me something in return.”

You gulped. This was a dream, it had to be, and the best you could do was go along for the ride. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel shaken, despite doing your best to convince yourself it wasn’t real—like some sort of subconscious defense mechanism your body employed in danger. And, well, he kind of seemed like danger. “Like what?”

“Well, normally...” He glanced back over, pinning you down with his gaze once again. “It’d be your soul.”

Your breath stopped in your throat. You weren’t quite sure if you were ready to give up your entire soul for 10% of your math grade, although that was a pretty accurate metaphor for your college experience.

“Your virginity maybe?” he hummed, drawing his tongue back over his lips, then, seeing your expression, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “No? Damn. It doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Um… I can offer to make you dinner?”

He paused, his eyes widening for a second, then burst into a cacophony of laughter. It was the first time he broke his exterior, and for a moment, he looked a bit more human. “I’ll take it.” Then, more “but you realize a contract with a demon is binding, right?”

“So, I’m contractually obligated to make you dinner, that’s what you’re saying?”

He paused, his smile turning amused once more. “Feisty. I like you,” he winked flirtatiously, sending heat rising in your cheeks. You hated to say it, but he was devilishly charming, on top of being probably the hottest being, human or not, you’d ever seen.

You glanced at your phone, noting the time ticking down slowly but surely. “Okay, I’m not joking. The math. My assignment is due in 45 minutes.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

He sat next to your side on the bed for a while, guiding you through the problems like some sort of hot e-boy math tutor. Not that you were complaining about that. The way he sat was surprisingly cute, one leg tucked up at his side, the other folded underneath him.

“Where’d you learn math, anyway?” you asked, admiring his immaculate side profile as his eyes trained on the laptop screen, typing the answers in. “They have like, demon school or something?”

He gave you a side glance, and you once again felt uneasy under the heat of his gaze. “A demon never reveals his secrets.”

“I thought that was a magician.”

He visibly stifled a laugh, pressing his lips tightly to avoid giving you the satisfaction of breaking his serious exterior. “Can you be quiet? I’m focusing. I’m a demon, not a mathematician. This is way out of my scope of work,” he grumbled through his teeth.

You watched him silently as he worked. As he typed, his tongue lingered just outside his parted lips in concentration. “Even you sitting next to me is distracting,” he hissed quietly. “You don’t realize what your scent is doing to me right now.”

Right. Your virgin scent. Was that really so appealing to him?

“Fine. I guess I’ll go make dinner. You promise you’re gonna turn this in in time?”

“I’m contractually obligated,” he responded dryly.

You hoisted yourself off the bed and headed to the kitchen to make dinner, but something about leaving a stranger in your room felt strange. No stranger than accepting he was a demon, though, you supposed.

You returned with a large plate of pasta, pretty much the only thing you had on hand. He received it apprehensively from you.

“What?” you asked, offended at his look of disgust. “Sorry, I didn’t have any fresh human souls on hand. My bad.”

You sat across from him on the bed, watching in fascination as he nibbled slowly at the thin spaghetti noodles. “You have any hot sauce or anything?” he asked, wincing as he took a few more bites.

“I barely had enough pasta to feed two people. I’m a broke college student. Anyway, I never forced you to accept the dinner offer.”

“I didn’t think it’d be so bland. What, you didn’t know demons prefer spicy food?”

“I didn’t know demons existed until today. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. This is all a dream I’m going to wake up from in a bit anyway.”

A wicked smirk danced up on his lips again. “Oh, you still think it’s a dream? Cute,” he sang condescendingly. “Well, then I guess it wouldn’t matter if I did this...”

Your heart seemed to stop in your chest as he crawled forward on his palms. You felt his breath linger on your neck first, then the gentle scrape of his pointed canines against your sensitive skin. Every hair on your body stood up. He pressed them down slightly, just enough to feel the tension on your flesh. Then he bit harder, nearly piercing as he sunk them in.

You reeled back, shoving him off you breathlessly. “What the fuck-”

“You still think it’s a dream? Then it wouldn’t matter if it sunk my teeth in. You’d just wake up, right? Isn’t that how dreams are supposed to work?” he taunted, a smile curled up on his lip. His fangs gleamed under the still-dim light of your bedroom. “Humans are so amusing,”

You wiped at your neck, rubbing circles where his teeth pinched your skin. He sat himself upright again and stood up from the bed. “Well, my end of the deal is over. Consider you released from your contract.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Well I’m not gonna stay here.” His hand came up to his ear like a phone. “Call me if you have a soul to harvest. You know my number.”

He was gone before you could blink, like an apparition, disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared. Your eyelids grew heavier as you reflected what had just happened, and you wondered what would happen if you fell asleep in a dream. Would you just wake up?

You collapsed into bed, still unsure whether or not the past few hours had actually happened or not. Part of you hoped they had—there was something about him that was so deeply captivating, you would do anything to see him again.

As he said, you did have his ‘number’.

You woke up dazed, still unsure if you had dreamt the events of the night before. The only sure way to know was to check your assignment—if you had really fallen asleep while doing your homework, you wouldn’t have turned the assignment in, right?

You opened your online class page, scanning for the assignment, and there it was, in bold letters:

Submitted: 98%.

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt two distinct emotions: relief that you got the assignment turned in, and complete disbelief that your encounter last night was not part of your imagination.

You could summon him again.

He seemed about as harmless as a demon could seem. At first, he had been entirely intimating—his aura made it seem like he could have eaten your soul right there with no second thoughts. But watching that powerful being, capable of so much evil and chaos, do something as mundane as your math homework… that was the most entertaining, and almost adorable thing, you’d ever witnessed.

Besides, you had something he desired, something you could dangle in front of him to keep him coming back. You had your virginity, which seemed to be the ultimate prize for a demon like him. The way he had talked about it last night, it seemed you were irresistible for him. But he also accepted your rejection so easily.

As long as you kept drafting up meaningless contracts, he had to oblige, right? You weren’t sure exactly how it worked, but that’s how it seemed from your interactions last night. If it worked like you thought it did, his job as a demon was to make a contract with his summoner, no matter how insignificant, as long as he takes something in return.

That night, you read the same latin phrase you had before he’d appeared, this time off a sticky note push-pinned in your wall.

You heard him again before you saw him, and you whipped your head around to see where he was standing behind you.

He wore the same playful, devilish smirk, displaying his fangs. “Hmm, you decided to let me harvest your soul now, have you? That was quick.”

It had barely been 24 hours, and yet you’d already forgotten how incredibly hot he was, for lack of a better word. Your lips parted slightly in awe, forgetting for a second to formulate a response.

“I hope your silence is a yes,” he interrupted.

You shook your attraction to him out of your head for a moment, remembering what you brought him here for. “I want you to clean my bathroom.”

He laughed in disbelief, plopping himself down on the bed. “I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

“That’s how this works right? I summon you and do what I want. And I give you something in return.” You leaned against the desk behind you.

“What am I, your errand boy?”

“But that is how this works, right?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance. “Yes,” he grumbled reluctantly. “But what do I get this time?”

“I cook you dinner again.”

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“I’ll let you bite my neck. Draw blood if you want.”

His eyes widened at your proposal. His reaction confirmed your suspicion—the blood of a virgin must be like crack to a demon like him. His face went flush. “Deal,” he confirmed eagerly.

You watched him as he cleaned, and there was something satisfying about watching this bloodthirsty demon scrubbing the bathtub on his hands and knees. He almost looked a bit pathetic. You stood in the door frame, unable to help from grinning at making him perform such menial tasks. A lot more was at stake now than just dinner, so you might as well have some fun with his end of the bargain. Even on his knees, you couldn’t help but watch him in awe. Every part of him was sculpted immaculately—his appearance was distinctly human, and yet he was in all other ways otherworldly.

“I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to some human’s lowly errand boy,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Less talking, more scrubbing,” you demanded with a smirk, and he shot you a deathly glare.

You followed through with your promise of dinner, and this time you came prepared with hot sauce. He devoured it eagerly, and you felt proud for making a dinner worthy of a demon’s praise.

But there was still one more promise you had to follow through on, and the thought made your head spin.

He sat across from you on the bed, eyes trained on your neck in a very un-subtle display of desire. You’d never felt so wanted, even if it was just the thought of your virgin blood that had him practically drooling.

“You sure about this?” he asked hesitantly. It was strange that he was even asking permission, as he seemed so eager the other night to just sink his teeth right into you.

“I’m contractually obligated,” you teased dryly. Then, more seriously, “But yes, I am.”

He placed his left hand on your neck, steadying it in place. His fierce, almost predatory gaze washed over you completely.

He leaned forward, parting his lips to drag his teeth gently along your neck. You tipped your head back, giving him a better angle. He teased there for a while, lingering his sharp canines on your skin. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck, the warmth of it sending chills rocketing down your spine. Your lips parted slightly, gentle moans escaping at the sensation. The situation was predatory, and yet it felt completely sensual in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

He paused for a moment, lips fluttering over your skin as he spoke. “You have no idea how hard it is not to completely drain you,” he whispered, voice dripping off his tongue with a sort of lustful hunger. “I promise I’ll only take a bit.”

He sunk down, and you heard it before you felt it—the distinct sound of teeth piercing flesh. You cried out a bit, bringing your own hand to your mouth to muffle your whines. It stung a bit, but in a twisted way, there was something about it you liked. You felt his tongue draw over your wound slowly, lapping deliberately at the fresh blood like a starved animal.

He moaned against you, and it echoed in your ear like the most divine sound you’ve ever heard. He may have been a demon, but his noises sounded like they came from heaven itself. He pulled your waist against his as he slowly bathed his tongue over the punctured flesh, his fingers squeezing as he grasped at your waist. He littered a few faint kisses across your blood-stained skin, moving slightly down towards your shoulder blades. The sudden sensation drew soft, pleasured moans from your lips.

As he finally pulled away, parting his lips tenderly away from your skin, you caught the faintest glimmer of his blacked-out eyes before they flickered back to normal. His deep red irises sparkled like rubies as he maintained eye contact. He brought one of his hands up from your waist, gently wiping at his blood-stained lips with the back of his palm. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself for a second. Your skin tastes so sweet, like candy,” he praised softly, voice deep and wanting. “And your blood, fuck—it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted.”

The seductive gleam in his eye signaled that you had awoken something in him, something you hadn’t meant to. He was still holding you, probably without even noticing, but you didn't want to draw his attention to it quite yet. You wanted to experience it for just a bit longer if you could. Something about the way he held your waist against his made you crave more of him.

Almost as if a switch flipped, his expression went dark, his fingernails suddenly digging all the way into your waist. You yelped in pain as he nearly punctured the skin through your clothes. “I need you to walk away from me right now. Before I do something I’ll regret,” he growled. You watched as his eyes flashed to the same demonic black for a moment.

You gulped, slowly backing yourself away from him, scrambling off the bed. "Farther," he groaned painfully, his breathing becoming heavy and labored. His hands clenched at the blanket on the bed, balling into restrained fists. "Now."

You ran from the room, your feet moving before you even knew where they were taking you. You ran all the way down the hallway to the front door, sliding your back down against it as you collapsed to the floor. Your limbs shook weakly, trying to calm yourself down. You must have sat there for an hour or more, completely frozen, not quite aware of the passing of time. You wiped the blood of your neck, but it didn't do much, smearing it across.

When you managed to finally stand up again, you made your way hesitantly towards the door of the bedroom, swinging your head around the doorframe first.

"San…?" you called apprehensively.

But he was gone, leaving only a light imprint on the sheets of the blood-stained bed and two deep punctures in your neck to remind you he was ever there.

[to be continued]

#san smut #choi san smut #yunho smut #ateez smut #san fanfic #ateez fanfic #hongjoong smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction

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burning-clutch · 3 years

Text

If A Ghost Howls In A Forest…

cross posted to a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503925 Danny was hoping his time at a summer camp would be ghost-free, and well, of course not. When would things in his life ever NOT involve ghosts? At least he can hope to get some decent rest tonight, right? RIGHT? Warning: mild descriptions of death

-.-.-.-.-

Prompt by: KC Summer Camps is not complete without a courage test of walking to the haunted woods at midnight. Amity Park campers are weirdly prepared for this. Other campers are not sure how to deal with that

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a sort of initiation type of thing.”

“But WHY?!”

“For the spooks?”

“I’ll get the lipstick…”

“Wait what?”

Danny sighed as he watched Tucker neander off back to their cabin to fetch the Fenton lipstick ray, ignoring the looks of confusion that was shot his way from the other campers that he didn’t know from school. Dash and Kwan had thankfully been, well, not assholes the WHOLE time they had been in the camp. Though to be fair, it had only been a day in this week long fun filled… whatever this was.

Apparently, while things seemed to start out well they were told around the evening campfire and cookout, (which was mostly just them poking hotdogs on sticks and trying not to burn themselves when they ate them,) they were told about a tradition about the new campers being lead up to spend a few hours on their first night on a midnight hike through the ‘haunted’ woods.

Danny was the first to groan hearing this followed by Tucker. Even Dash and Kwan looked unamused as well as the random soccer player that Danny vaguely recognized from school.

To say the councillors were confused by the amity park kids’ reactions would be selling the gambit of expression the councillors had. Teenagers being put in charge of slightly younger teenagers, yeah, nothing could go wrong here, nothing at all…

Tucker came back and tossed Danny a wrist ray while tucking the lipstick he had retrieved into his shirt pocket. A boy from some small farming town an hour’s drive from the camp shuddered. “Haunted Woods? How are you not worried about dark haunted woods? Ghosts are in there!” he exclaimed.

“Cuz it’s just ghosts right?” The Amity soccer player shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean the story they told us said that right? Those hikers that got hurt and died in the woods still haunt it to this day” Kwan supplied with a roll of his eyes. The jock wiggled his fingers doing a decent impression of the box ghost with an even more intimidating “OoooOOOoooOO”

“Yeah, unless they’re gonna be sporting some cool gore this will be lame,” Dash added with a yawn. “Pass.” Dash waved the councillor off before trying to turn and head off.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to go on the hike. But those who skip out will have to endure the punishment tomorrow. If you wanna peel hundreds of potatoes tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn you’re welcome to head back…. We’re also going to label you as a coward too so there’s that.” One of the councillors says with a smug smile on their face.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like that?” A nervous looking twig of a boy asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Oh I won’t say anything on that matter” The second councillor, Jeff says. At least Danny thinks he remembers the name as Jeff. He should probably learn that given this guy was in charge of the cabin he was staying in, “It’ll be better to leave it as a surprise.”

The first councillor, a jock looking guy, built like a brick house with thick shoulders and neck but a tiny waist and legs looking very much like he needed a few more rounds on leg day, eyed the Amity group with a look as though he were going to try to take scaring them as a challenge. Danny looked the guy over, raising a brow when their eyes locked.

Great, he and Tucker looked like an easy target. He knew that look all too well having spent plenty of time being bullied as well as with angry ghosts who underestimated him. More fun tonight will be had by all he was sure.

“Don’t worry We’ll make sure you’ll get some proper spooks.” the brick house says with what Danny assumed the other thought was an intimidating grin.

Dash snorted. “Fenton’s probably the only one who’ll get scared of the ghosts out there. He runs away from all of them back home.”

“Have you seen my parents? Get too close to a ghost and it picks up some contamination you know exactly what they’ll do!” Danny spat back with a glare of his own only barely managing to stop his eyes from glowing in his rapidly souring mood.

The other kids at the camp blink in confusion. “Wait… You guys are from that tourist town that goes way too far with the ghost theme right?” asked a pale kid with brown hair.

“Oh please, that’s just a gimmick” Answered another kid who crossed his arms in a huff.

“It’s not a gimmick dude, we even have our own superhero!” Kwan answered.

“Uh-huh. Well you’re superhero ain’t gonna save you from the ghosts out here” Jeff shot back, crossing his arms. “Right, Tom?”

The brick house, Tom apparently nodded knowingly. “Yep, these ghosts are very dangerous and angry ya know..”

“So? It IS Monday,” Tucker offered flatly, earning a snort from the soccer player.

“Can we just… not do this?” A darker skinned nervous boy whined holding onto the arm of the brown haired kid reminding Danny of him and Tucker from two years ago before they got jaded from ghost attacks.

Kinda made him wonder what could have been…

“Nope we're going, so move,” Tom ordered taking up the place at the back of the line while Jeff took the place at the front.

Danny groaned. “Wonder if there will be any ghosts in there?” He wonders to tucker as they were all forced into a line for their ‘spooky’ hike.

“Maybe it’ll be one of Vlad’s abominations?” Tucker suggested.

“Honestly I wouldn't be surprised.” Danny sighed back with a frown. At least if it was a real ghost his ghost sense would alert him to the danger before they got too close.

They entered the treeline and started heading up a hill and towards the supposed site where the hikers had fallen and gotten trapped by a rock or something falling on them. Their legs were broken and crushed and stuck in place, they apparently died unable to get food or drink and unable to free themselves alone, and not able to scream loud enough for help. They still haunt this area… apparently.

Danny had to admit while the tragedy would be able to spawn a ghost but he also doubted there was one sentient around here if there was a ghost at all. He couldn’t sense very high ectoplasmic concentrations around here. Any ghosts that weren’t purely animalistic in nature wouldn’t last long out here without a boost of ecto-energy.

Which means if there was an animal ghost, that boost of energy could come from attacking humans or eating things as animals tend to do... Again attacking humans but instead of feasting on their emotions, well it’s just getting mauled.

More than anything it meant that if there was a malevolent ghost out there that they would have to be on their toes, and Tucker would have to run interference to make sure no one sees Phantom this far from Amity Park.

Well, at least none of the Amity park residents see Phantom this far from Amity.

As they walked up towards the crescent of the hill they noticed it was significantly colder, though it wasn’t a ghostly cold, at least those from Amity knew it wasn’t. The other kids though?

“Oh, man… Why is it so chilly?!” “You think that means the ghosts are close?” “No way man stop saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s probably the river,” Tucker said simply, pointing to the side where there was a winding stream just below the side of the hill. “The way the winds are blowing it’s cooling this area more.”

Danny smirked at his friend's explanation. It was a neat trick sure, but it wasn’t enough to scare the Amity kids. Frowning but not discouraged, the councillors led their troupe up and around towards a cave that was making a moaning noise every time the wind blew.

“They say this is where the hikers were killed, just at the mouth of this tunnel looking for shelter,” Tom says smirking, enjoying the shudders some of the younger teens were giving at the howls of the tunnel. “If you listen you can hear them screaming still.”

“The wind in the tunnel opening?” Kwan asked helpfully.

“No, it’s the howls of the damned.” Jeff encouraged

“And if you look close enough you can sometimes make out the glowing soul of their spirits,” Tom added ignoring the Amity jock.

“Oh neat! I didn’t know they had Panellus stipticus in this area!” The soccer jock said overly happily.

“Dude, when did you become a nerd.” Dash huffed out teasingly.

“I’m studying Bio to get into Uni for Mycology. Dude mushrooms are totally awesome.” Came the smug reply.

“You would know Kevin” Dash snapped back

“Moving on!” Tom called out before shooing the kids away. This was not going according to plan at all… Why are these Amity kids so prepared for this?! Well, hopefully, the next bit will get them…

As they round the cave towards a small rocky outcropping the councillors do their best to draw the younger teen’s attention towards the crevasse where there was supposedly still a shoe from one of the deceased hikers. “If y’all look hard enough you’ll find it I’m sure~,” Jeff told them.

Frowning the kids shined flashlights down into the ditch looking about before one kid called out, “I found a shoe!”

As they did several things happen at once. There was a roaring sound of pain before someone came bolting out of the woods with yellow and green glowing spots all over them. Tucker raised a brow but side-eyed Danny who shrugged.

The Amity kids watched in more confusion than fear as the ‘ghost’ ran out of the woods towards them and took a swipe at one of the youngest teens in their group. “So that’s your ghost? Lame.” Dash huffed out arms crossed. “It’s not even the right colours.” he added with a wave of his hand ignoring the screeching of some of the other kids who were clearly more startled by the ‘ghost’ than he was.

“So, can we go now?” Danny asked with a yawn as the ghost, or really one of the councillors with broken glow stick goo all over them came close to him with an ‘oooooOOOOoooo’

“You guys really didn’t even flinch?!” the ‘ghost complained.

“Oh hey, there you go now THAT looks more convincing.” Someone says just as Danny’s breath fogged a bit before his face.

The halfa looked to where his ghost sense had pointed him to see a big giant green drooling monster beast glaring at the humans towering over the majority of even the tallest in the group. “Yeah, that looks more like a ghost! How’d you do that?” The soccer player said, (Danny really needed to learn his name)

Tom and Jeff and the ‘ghost’ that was harassing Danny all yelp and take a few steps back while the non-Amity kids scrabble and scatter back the way they came.

“No he’s real,” Danny offers with a sigh of exasperation. “Here Cujo down!”

The beast barked and wagged its tail before shrinking down and giving a yip of delight before rushing over to Danny, legs never fully touching the ground as he flew over to the boy.

“Heel! Sit!” Danny calls out stopping the dog in its tracks before the beast could cover him in glowing green slobber.

Cujo did just that sitting practically on Danny’s feet and wiggling his tail so fast it made his butt jiggle back and forth in the effort. The teen sighed and scooped the wiggling beast up into his arms with little effort, mostly due to the fact that ghost dogs only weigh half of what their flesh and bone counterparts would.

“Figures Fent-freak would have a freaky ghost dog” Dash taunted crossing his arms though when Cujo growled, Dash’s smug smile fell.

“Tha-That’s?” Jeff stammered out, pointing a shaking finger at the wiggling green bean in Danny’s hands.

“A typical Amity park ghost yeah,” Danny replied with a grin. “So it's cool if we call this hike a night I’m kinda hoping to get some sleep, that’s kinda why I wanted to come here to catch up on that more than anything…” Danny admitted the last part a little quieter as he put Cujo back down.

The councillor nodded dumbly, moving back away from the teen and the ghost dog, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bolt when Danny picked up a stick and threw it for Cujo to fetch.

“Awe man I think I stepped in Fen-turd’s dog’s invisible crap!” Dash complained as they all started moving back, Cujo yipping as he came back with the stick giving a snort at Dash before loyally following alongside Danny and phasing through trees as they walked.

Seeing this, Tom decided that it would be best if he hurried back to the cabins to get them ready for the new campers. Yes, That’s exactly what he’s doing…

“Dude you can’t seriously be thinking of keeping Cujo around here he’ll destroy the camp,” Tucker muttered to Danny watching the little pup chase its tail as he followed them.

“Eh, It’s not really fair to keep him in the thermos for the week. Besides I’m sure I can use this guy to get you that extra helping of bacon you wanted.” Danny bribed his friend.

Tucker’s eyes light up and he grins brightly “Cujo here boy! Come see the T-man!”

Danny rolled his eyes, but so long as that was the only ghost they encountered out here, he might actually have a decent week of sleep ahead of him.

He can only hope.

Besides, using Cujo as a threat to Dash sounded like as good a plan as any, and if the councillors were too scared to go near the ghost dog that they would let him sleep in, all the better for him.

Danny smirked, perhaps camp wouldn’t be so bad after all~

-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete Total: 2363

#phic phight 2021 #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #camp fun #Danny is done with ghosts #he just wants to sleep

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dajaregambler · 3 years

Text

HeliosR - Victor Valentine Card story ‘‘Seeking for what’s frightening’’

Translation of Victor Valentine’s 4* ‘’Gothic Halloween’’ card story from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Gray: Uwah, amazing… Did you make this, Victor-san…?

Victor: Yes, this robot was built by me. I’m occupied with pouring all my time into producing these for the upcoming Halloween League.

Gray: I had assumed you were leaning more towards biochemistry… But to be able to build robots too, that’s seriously amazing...

Victor: As you thought my area of expertise is chemistry, however if I had to be honest, I barely have the confidence to manufacture these…

Victor: And on top of it, I had been also struggling with the design itself...

Gray: Eh… Wondering if it has enough punch to it, you mean… I already think it’s scary enough as is though....

Victor: Adding that pinch of “scary” has been considerably difficult. I’ve been making these as requested by Marion, but as far as the details go, I’ve only received how it should be thematically based on “evil spirits of Halloween”.

Victor: Naturally I have referred to literature to form a general outline on the matter, but what traits resemble an “evil spirit”, about it having a factor of “spookiness” to it... No matter how far I go with investigating the matter, I simply cannot draw the line where it’d be most suitable.

Gray: Like evil spirits… spookiness….

Victor: What is your impression of it, Gray? Do you think it’s able to represent those traits of an “evil spirit”?

Gray: Eh? Eeeh… uh, um…

Victor: Please do not hold yourself back, and be as candid as you can.

Gray: Be as candid as I can… Right, right...

Gray: Whether or not it looks like one, I can say that it’s absolutely close but… Um… on the contrary, it might actually be a bit too scary...

Gray: H-how do I say this… It’s like originally you were going for CERO A but ended up heading towards CERO D instead…?

Victor: CERO……? What may that be?

Gray: Ah… awawah, sorry…. I used a game rating system for scale… a Japanese one too…

Gray: The Halloween League is an event that children will attend, in terms of gaming that would be for an event for all ages...

Gray: But, as of now it feels more that it’s heading towards a more mature audience… So I was thinking all like, how about aiming for a younger one instead~... but please don’t mind it too much...

Victor: Hmm, I see…That is very interesting, or I should rather say an intriguing point of view.

Victor: I will do as you said and make an attempt to aim for a younger demographic, however with how it has been currently going, I don’t quite have the grasp on what I should do to change it.

Victor: If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about video games for all ages to use as a reference point going forward?

Gray: !! O-ofcourse…!

Victor: Hooh.... Even though it’s shortly summed up as for all ages, there seems to be quite a variety of video games.

Gray: For now I kept it limited and looked up horror games that came to mind… You’d come across even more games if you were to look it up

Gray: Uuum… if you’re looking for a game that has enemies that are “evil spirit”-like, then maybe this one…?

Victor: Yes, that kind of caricature is good. It gives an impression closely resembling the ones in animation for children.

Gray: P-personally I think it’s good if it’s as scary as these enemy characters here but… That is for you to decide...

Victor: Hmm…. If I were to judge from your perspective, would this be more scarier?

Gray: Eh? Yes… it, would be….?

Gray: I feel, that the difference is pretty obvious but… you don’t seem to think so, Victor-san?

Victor: Indeed. Even though we’re going in a different direction, I don’t feel that any of them are frightening, thus making it difficult to judge.

Gray: R-right…

Gray: Uh… I’m just asking this out of curiosity but… Is there, something that you’re scared of, Victor-san…?

Victor: Something that I’m scared of?

Gray: Ah, aaah, uuum, it’s just… it’s okay if it’s too hard to answer, or if you don’t want to! I suddenly asked something weird anyway, I’m sorry….

Victor: Fufu, what are you apologizing for? I don’t believe it was odd by any means.

Victor: Something I’m scared of… you ask? I haven’t played any video games before so on that matter I have nothing to say, and in regards to horror movies I don’t recall being frightened once.

Gray: Eh… so you’re like, totally fine with ghosts and demons and all that…?

Victor: More that I don’t believe in such things due to my point of view as a scientist, rather than being fine with it.

Victor: Well, realistically speaking “Ghosts believing scientists” such as Nova are not too uncommon out there.

Victor: I do want to believe in the possibility of it… Unfortunately, I have yet to see a theory that justifies it to begin with.

Gray: Wah… you’re amazing, Victor-san…. Makes me a bit embarrassed given how I accidentally believe in anything...

Victor: No, I wouldn’t say that I am. I do occasionally envy those who are able to simply enjoy horror movies as is.

Gray: Is that so…?

Victor: Do you have any issues when it comes to horror and occult, Gray?

Gray: Aah, no… I’ve built up a tolerance for it because of games that are full of it...

Gray: Besides, I think… humans are scarier than any ghost or demon, 100 times more scarier even….

Victor: Human themselves…. For example, such as Asch Albright?

Gray: !! Eh, eeeeh…. yes… His name alone makes me sweat bullets, weirdly enough...

Gray: But, not just A….sch, but I’m scared of coming in contact with other people in general...

Gray: Even before talking to them actually, like what if they hate me…. what if they think I’m weird… that’s all I end up thinking about

Victor: Which means that you are currently feeling the same sense of dread when talking to me this moment?

Gray: T-that’s right… Aaah, but, you’re not scary Victor-san… Um, it’s just...

Victor: Yes, I understand. I’ve mentioned it before, but I don’t believe there’s anything odd about you, Gray.

Gray: V-Victor-san….!

Victor: My apologies for getting us sidetracked. Could you lend me your wisdom for a little longer?

Gray: Ah, yes… yes of course!

Nova: Oooh, looks like you made a lotta progress~ Making ghouls and all♪

Victor: I was able to because of the advice I had received from Gray, and so I was finally able to see the light.

Nova: Good pals with Gray-kun now, eh? Well with Ren-kun too but, lately more people have been dropping by your lab. Lookit this celebrity here~♪

Victor: ...You’re surprisingly in a good mood today, aren’t you now?

Nova: Mmh, haven’t slept so I’m feeling somewhat all over the place

Nova: I’ve been absorbed into making these robots too, and before I knew it three whole days had passed~ That scared me real good, yanno

Nova: Wait a second, nobody came to see me in these three days….!? I wanna be a celeb tooooo~!

Victor: How about resting your mind and body, rather than dawdling around here?

Nova: Naaw~ The adrenaline’s coursing through my veins, not feeling tired in the slightest~

Nova: Whatever you say, making these robots is right where I belong. Had lotsa fun doing it too

Nova: Obviously I’m paying enough attention to safety and all that, but there’s more space to feel at ease compared to what I usually do for work….

Nova: Not that I’m forgetting substance research by any means, it’s just pretty nerve-racking when combined with making assets and tools for the heroes to fight with

Nova: Didn’t mean to pay that much mind to it, still it’s a heavy responsibility to have one’s life in your hands...

Nova: Makes me go all like, damn, this fear of failure and what to do about it sure is always growing ain’t it now!~ like some kinda realisation each time, yanno

Victor: ….., fear….

Nova: You’re always doing such a fantastic job, me~

Nova: A Summerfieldtastic job~....

Victor: …….

Nova: Eh, no response!? Here I was putting all my energy into being an idiot, and instead of straight manning me, you straight up ignore me!?

Victor: Aah, my apologies… There was something on my mind.

Victor: What did you say?

Nova: I-I didn’t say a word! Vic’s a dummy! I’m gonna go to my room and sleep! Good-NIGHT!!!

Victor: …..?

Fun trivia corner:

The Japanese game rating goes from CERO A to D, and Z. All ages would be CERO A, for 12 years old and above CERO B, for 15 years old and above CERO C, for 17 years old and above CERO D, and at last CERO Z for 18 and above. The European one is PEGI with age specific ratings (PEGI-3, or PEGI-18) and the American one is ESRB, with letter codes such as T for teen, M for mature, and so on. Helios is rated as 12+ on the Apple app store, that would be CERO A, PEGI-12 or ESRB T.

#heliosR #helios rising heroes #victor valentine #gray reverse

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squeeneyart · 3 years

Text

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 25

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger

Nothing to do but talk.

Martin and Jon settle in for a movie night.

The documentary, if it could be called that, was absolute bunk.

Littered throughout were vague interviews and wild assumptions on the part of the very on-screen director, all tied together with a final push for people to purchase a very specific brand of smoke detector. And the low quality of the video couldn’t be blamed solely on Martin’s internet.

They watched the thing from start to finish, though, and by the end of its 70-minute runtime (“I should’ve guessed by how short it was,” Jon had grumbled partway through) their viewing had turned primarily to Jon taking the piss out of it. Academically, of course.

On Martin’s end the film itself was bad in an enjoyable way, and while he didn’t have the context for all of Jon’s complaints it was easy for him to listen. He’d even made some jokes that got Jon to snort.

He did have to sit uncomfortably straight to keep from leaning against each other. Jon had turned it a bit so they could both see, but when viewed from too hard an angle the picture looked even worse. So, Martin did his best to give Jon space and not let the effort distract him from the screen.

All of this being true, Martin was grateful for the horrible film. Nothing filled silence better than movies and television, so the nights following they settled into a routine. Someone would make dinner (with no further… outbursts) and then they would find something to watch. Afterwards they would say goodnight and Martin would escape upstairs to decompress with his little notebook.

Jon’s original idea had been to find something related to their goals. However, after another let down on night two involving a very old retrospective on the mid-century fishing industry (“Wrong century,” Martin had said about five minutes in), Jon dropped the idea, thus opening up a whole new world of cable television and old vhs tapes on night three.

“You bought yourself a laptop but never had a dvd player?” Jon yawned, getting comfortable on his side of the couch.

“We sort of… skipped it?” Martin dug through a box of tapes for something worth watching, sifting through sappier options and 80s action flicks alike. “Dunno how, but we never got one. The laptop ended up being the first thing I ever had to play dvds, but the telly is too old to be hooked up to it. S’fine, though. I like tapes.”

“And you never get bored of it? Flipping between tapes and whatever’s on at a given time?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “I have a phone for other stuff, obviously. To be honest I don’t watch a lot to begin with, nothing new anyway.”

“Hmph. Same for me,” Jon conceded, sinking further into the couch. “Feels like there are other things I could be doing.”

“Except for now?”

A wry smile. “Special case.”

Martin’s stomach did a flip. He didn’t feel guilty, per se, but he wished he had something for Jon to work on to stave off the boredom. Everything had been so quiet with Peter gone and Simon’s waiting that no new leads had popped up. It wasn’t fair that Jon had to sit around doing nothing after wandering about in the sea for weeks. The least he could do was provide some entertainment.

“Hm. Right, how about this one?” Martin looked back and waved a vhs set. It was some old fantasy series with a group of children on the cover standing in a hallway. “Haven’t watched it since I was a kid, but I remember liking it.”

“Two tapes’ worth?” Jon glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s in episodes, right?”

“Yeah, though if you’d rather find something else…?”

Jon waved his hand. "No, I can’t spend the whole evening making up my mind. If we don’t like it, then we can find something else.”

With that settled Martin popped the tape in and took up his seat. On the other end, Jon sat with the blanket pulled to his chest. He wore a new set of pyjamas Martin had picked up at the shop along with a few other things to save Jon from having to wear the same clothes day and night.

The show was a simple series meant for children, easy enough to follow in plot that some side chatter didn’t interrupt things too much. Honestly, Martin was glad they weren’t paying a whole lot of attention. He hadn’t watched it in years and wasn’t looking to be embarrassed.

A few minutes in, the children from the cover were running up the stairs to explore a large house. “Safe to assume you don’t have siblings?” Jon asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s just me. You?”

He snorted. “Even if my grandmother wanted another child running around, I was enough to deal with.”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “What, were you a terror?”

“I’d use the word ‘adventurous’, but she would’ve agreed with that description. If we’d been in that house,” Jon gestured toward the screen, “she would’ve been in trouble. Until it ate me or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes?”

Jon frowned. “That’s- No, I mean if it were real it would probably mean harm. Supernatural houses aren’t trustworthy entities outside of fiction. In fiction they’re mischievous at the least.”

“Can’t imagine that, a building that likes to mess with you,” Martin said, grimacing. He really didn’t remember much about this story. Maybe that was how it went? “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I wasn’t into spooky things back then.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but I’m not letting my guard down,” Jon said. He watched as the children walked up a spiral staircase. “Would you have wanted siblings?”

Martin considered this. “I can’t imagine having them? But an older sibling would’ve been nice. Someone to know better and help me with things.”

“I think any other child would’ve found me irritating, older or younger. Best to keep to myself,” Jon said dryly. “Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes, you can imagine the additional worry of raising a child who could explore the ocean like it was the woods. It’s not like she could follow me in.”

“I bet… She wasn’t like you, then?”

Turning back to the television, Jon said, “No. She was from my father’s side.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t tell if the question was wrong to ask, so looked back to the show. It was luck of the draw, then, whether someone was born with a selkie skin. Perhaps there was nothing to do with genetics in circumstances like this.

Back on the screen, one of the children had chosen to wander outside into the beginnings of a snowstorm with no thought to the cold. Outside the real world window it had begun to hail, and Martin realized how frigid it had become both outdoors and in.

“Well, at least this story is right for the season,” Martin said, standing up. “I’m gonna grab another blanket.”

With a start, Jon looked at him and held up the one he was under. “Do you want this one? I don’t-”

“N-no, that’s fine!” He walked briskly out of the room, feeling rude and stupid. All Jon had offered was for him to use the damned thing, not share it. And it wouldn’t have fit both of them even if he had meant it that way!

Opening the hall closet, he tried to calm down. He peered at the pile of folded sheets and blankets, lifting each layer to search for one he liked. There was a flannel one somewhere, deceptively warm for how thin it was-

Oh.

Tucked far down into the pile, far back enough so it was hidden if the one above wasn’t lifted, Martin saw something dappled and grey and out of place amongst the linen. Jon had left it to dry completely beforehand, so the surrounding fabric was unwrinkled. Considerate. And in a decent hiding place all things considered. It was a shame Martin had gone and ruined it.

He sighed, grabbing one of the blankets at the top that he’d initially passed on. Once he reached the doorway to the living room, he stopped and stared at Jon who was doing his best to seem unperturbed.

“So, I saw it,” he started, squeezing the blanket in his arms into his chest. “I use that closet a lot, if you want to put it somewhere else.”

Jon winced and stood. As Martin let him pass, he mumbled, “Right. I’ll just-”

And then Martin was left to sit back on the couch and wait, pausing the tape out of courtesy.

When the skin had disappeared from the shower that first morning he hadn’t considered anything but Jon hiding it, and there was an awful satisfaction in knowing he was right. He rubbed his arm and stared at the blanket in his lap, still neat and folded.

After a couple of minutes, Jon returned empty handed and resumed his seat. Pulling his blanket back up, he said, “It’s nothing… personal.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath and pressed play on the old remote, letting the child continue their new solo adventure. “I figured you hid it.”

“I appreciate that you told me.” His voice was stilted and unsure. “That you found it.”

“Sure, whatever helps.” Unfolding the blanket, he pulled it up to his shoulders and leaned on the arm rest. He could feel Jon fidgeting in place, turning the blanket so it faced the right way and making it tuck under him in the right places. Martin kept his eyes ahead.

Finally giving up on any further adjustments, Jon slouched into place. “It does help. I know my caution can come off as distrust, but genuinely I just… I need to keep it hidden. I need to know where it is and to be the only one who does. For now.”

“You… don’t need to justify anything.” Martin sighed and had to fight back a yawn. “It’s your coat.”

A grunt of frustration. “No, you don’t- It’s not a rational thing. I trusted you enough to tell you the truth, and yet I was barely into my first night here before I panicked and stowed it away.” He sat upright and let the blanket fall to his lap, quiet distress written across the lines of his forehead.

Grasping for words, Martin said, “You still haven’t known me that long. It’s not wrong to be careful.”

“That’s not the point,” Jon replied quietly, resting elbows on knees. “It hasn’t been all that long in the grand scheme of things, but a lot has happened. I consider you a friend. And yet I can’t stop feeling like everything is about to go wrong if I’m not careful.”

The hail continued to slam against the window, almost overpowering the sound of the television and the faun describing the witch’s plans. On the far side of the couch, Jon remained hunched over his own knees with his face bent in irritation.

A wave of shame broke against him, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Carefully, Martin scooted over just enough to reach out a hand. His trembling fingers hovered just an inch away, brushing against the fabric of Jon’s shirt before coming to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jon whispered, massaging around his eyes with his fingers. He reached his free hand up to tentatively cover Martin’s, giving it a tiny squeeze. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Do you… want to keep watching?”

Jon nodded, shaking himself out a little. Martin released the gentle grip on his shoulder, though he didn’t move away. They both settled into the back of the couch and watched.

The child had gone back inside with the shivers, but no one was to be found. Around the halls she wandered, calling her siblings’ names with indignation that slowly turned to concern and then to fear. Eventually she was running, and it wasn’t until she was on the upper floor that one of her brothers popped out to scare the living daylights out of her.

Deep down he remembered this part making him cry. Perhaps siblings weren’t worth it with how cruel children could be.

Martin coughed. “You explored the sea as a kid, then?”

Jumping slightly, Jon said, “O-only a couple of times. And not far from the land. And it’s not as fun when you can only grab one thing at a time, with your mouth. I sorely missed my pockets and picking up sticks.” As he spoke, he resumed the more casual tone from before with modest success.

“You thought checking out the sea with no real limits was too much of a hassle?”

With a roll of his eyes, Jon said, “It wasn’t entirely that. Eventually my grandmother warned me away from it. Told me about dangerous animals that absolutely weren’t native to the coast where we lived.”

“Great white sharks?”

“Surrounding our seaside village on every watery side, ready to eat hapless little seal boys who didn’t listen to their nans.”

Martin chuckled, relaxing further into his seat and listening to Jon go on about all the ways his grandmother had tried and failed to reign him in. He could see it, a younger, scrappier version of the man next to him stomping around the woods and climbing fences.

The instinct wasn’t all that relatable to someone like Martin who’d kept to the front porch on nice days, but it sounded like an adventure. Maybe it meant he was less likely to get eaten by an evil wardrobe out of the two of them. In his position he could only hope that was the case.

They called it for the night when, out of nowhere, a man suddenly appeared at half opacity screen and let out a screeching noise to close out an episode, making Jon laugh in a way that only could’ve been from exhaustion.

Martin lingered downstairs for a while after they shut the television off. It was Friday, after all. For many reasons they couldn’t go out to a pub, but without the need to get up early he could afford to stay up a little longer and listen to a sleepy Jon talk over the tapping on the window panes.

Tim: not next weekend, but the one after i think. finally time to call it on preparation and get down to business, if this is something we can be prepared for

Martin: encouraging

Tim: look its been rough over here, alright?

Martin: i know, sorry. itll be easier to talk once we’re all in one place

Tim: yeah

Tim: things are ok over there, then? youre sounding better

Martin: ?

Tim: it was starting to get scary if im honest, how quiet you were

Martin: oh, sorry. things are fine, just didnt have a lot to say

Tim: yeah, i get it. its hard to fill the space. dont be a stranger though. in a few weeks we’ll be there to get you out of this mess

Martin: looking forward to it

Sighing, Martin looked from the private chat to Jon, who was ignoring his breakfast to type away at the laptop. “Sounds like the others are making plans to get here.”

Jon looked up briefly. “Good. It will be… nice to see them.”

“And show them you’re not dead?”

Ignoring this, Jon said, “How is Tim doing?”

He glanced back at his phone. “Worried. About a lot of things, I think.”

“Thinking of how he’s going to break my disappearance to you, no doubt,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. He avoided Martin’s eyes. “That’ll be resolved soon enough.”

Martin poked at the eggs on his plate. “He… lost someone, didn’t he?”

It was only for a moment, but Jon froze in the middle of setting his mug down. He seemed to struggle with an answer.

“It’s fine if you can’t say, but he implied as much,” Martin said gently.

With a frown, Jon shut the laptop. “Sasha knows more than I do, but yes. His brother, a few years ago.”

“Oh. That’s… really sad.” He leaned back in his chair. “He seems like he’d be a good brother.”

“I’m sure he was. He certainly looks out for us.” Jon took a bite of his toast.

“As best as he can,” Martin added sheepishly.

“Once this is all finished he’s earned a vacation.”

Yes, they’d all given poor Tim their share of heart attacks. Martin had managed to several times in the last month. But at least when the time came Tim would see that both of them were alive and themselves and able to apologize for making his and Sasha’s lives just a bit harder than they needed to be.

Once it was all finished.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin #selkie au

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thirstyfortaglines · 3 years

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Welcome to the Wangsheng Family!

This is a 1.5K word Hu Tao x fem!reader fic. Contains adult content. This is my first time writing yuri content so I hope you enjoy.

“So...am I hired?” I reclined from my hunched over position, hastily attempting to organize my papers. Today I sat before the director of the Wangsheng funeral parlor, Hu Tao, in the hopes of getting a job. After reviewing the papers, Hu Tao nodded, finally looking up at me. “You definitely meet the basic experience requirements, but I’d like to get to know you a bit more before making my decision,” she stated in a professional but friendly tone. “What do you mean?” I asked, taken off guard by the question; I had never made it this far in an interview, and it showed. “Well, you must be a strange soul to seek work at a funeral parlor. What brings you here?” she pressed on, an eyebrow quirked in my direction. “To be honest…” I started slowly, scared of revealing too much, “this is the last place left for me. Everywhere else I’ve applied has turned me down for one reason or another, which is why I really appreciate your consideration, miss Tao.”

“Peculiar indeed...well, your application shows you’re more than capable of handling this position-” she had only just started, but I was already jumping out of my seat in celebration. “Thank you so much Director, I promise to be a hard working employee for you” I felt tears start to form and reached for her hand, only to be met with a wagging finger and a mischievous look. “While you have some experience, I have to make certain you’re emotionally strong enough for this job; this line of work can be very taxing and I have to make sure you’re up to snuff” she finished, standing and looking down at me. She then explained to me that she would need to conduct some examinations on me as a test of my metal; had I been less desperate for the job, I might have given it all a second thought, but I was too afraid of her changing her mind to show any bit of hesitation. And so, with a final locking of the doors, I was subjected to Hu Tao and her onslaught of trials.

“Is all this...necessary?” After having agreed to her testing, Tao handed me a blindfold and asked me to wear it. She then explained she was going to apply different types of pressure to my spirit which may cause me to lash out, and so she told me to sit down and tied my hands behind the chair. “To fully bring out the essence of one’s soul, they must first be deprived of the material world and be relieved of their earthly desires” the Director said hauntedly over my shoulder, as if to be spooky and get a rise out of me. Though I could not see, I could definitely hear the things going on around me.

Especially the sudden breathing against my ear.

“What are you-” I spoke out, startled by the sudden heat in my ear. “Hey, stop moving! You’ll ruin the ritual” she whispered hurriedly into my ear, hushing me. After a few moments, I felt what seemed to be her chin resting upon my shoulder, and with it came the brush of her hand up the sides of my arms. “Tell me,” she began to speak in a low hum, “what is your desire?” Truthfully, I did not have many desires left: I had already settled down in Liyue harbor, my debts had been paid off, I mostly had everything I needed-. “My my, you’re still a virgin?”

The question rang out in my head as blood rushed to my cheeks and made my face flush with embarrassment. “W-why does that matter?!” I stammered, though I already knew the answer in my heart. “To work here, you must be capable of freeing yourself of all desire,” she started, finally untying my blindfold, “and so, we’ll have to do something about this lust of yours.” At that moment, the look in Tao’s eyes changed to something more...enchanting; my entire body was lit ablaze under her gaze, with every new location she brushed her fingers against bringing new life to my skin. “Looks like you’ve finally loosened up” she said after some time, cheerily as ever, slowing her exploration of my body for a brief moment. Though I was still bound in my chair, I reveled in this moment; the director was right, this was exactly what I wanted, no, needed. I let out a long winded sigh as Tao traced the back of my head, resting her hand at the base of my neck with a coaxing but firm grip. Her thumb played at the base of my hairline as I tilted my head back to fully feel her touch, the feeling of being held ringing throughout my entire being. What I wasn’t ready for was the kiss.

Hu Tao leaned over my shoulder and planted a kiss, square on my lips. Shock overtook my body, swiftly followed by a maddening desire for more as she drew away; I nearly lept out of the seat, chasing after her fleeting lips. “Haha no need to rush, I’ll give you some more” she teased me, but I didn’t care anymore; all that mattered to me in that moment was having more of her to myself. Perhaps it was only minutes, or maybe hours and hours had passed already, but all I knew was that I was exhausted from the kissing alone. I was dizzy and light-headed, so when Hu Tao slipped from my side, I didn’t even notice. Only when I saw her little hat pop up at my lap did I realize, and the smile she wore told me there was much left in store for this “test”. “So,” she said, her eyes bright and smile wide, “are you ready for round two?” “Round...two…?” I was still attempting to catch up with everything going on but Hu Tao continued full steam ahead. Though I was still seated, she had no intention of stopping, raising my one leg over her shoulder, and pushing the other aside to give her more room. “It’s safe to assume this is your first time, right?” she hovered above my panties, breathing heavily and arousing me further. “Y-yeah, what about it?” I tried to sound confident, but my inexperience shined through as brightly as her eyes, enticing Tao to take advantage. “Well then…”

“Allow me to be your guide~”

She lifted my skirt with a look of anticipation written all over her face, followed by a more quizzical look. “Say, are you a vision user by any chance?” she asked, somewhat abruptly. “No, why?” I replied, equally as confused, though still awaiting more of her touch. She smiled wryly at me and continued, “It’s just so wet down here, I thought you surely couldn’t have been this excited by my kissing alone, you must be a hydro user. Glad to know I still have my touch.” Embarrassment once again coursed through my veins, with Hu Tao still sitting between my legs, attempting to console me while concealing her own laughter.

“Ready?” she looked up at me with a strong gaze, crumpling any opportunity to defy her. I nodded meekly and watched as she descended once again to between my legs. A cold sensation suddenly began rubbing against my clit, contrasting heavily with the hot air being breathed along my thighs. Despite my attempts to contain my enjoyment, a moan of pleasure left my lips as the teasing continued. “My my, did you enjoy that? My hand is absolutely soaked!” Hu Tao giggled, removing her hand from the area and tracing my thighs with the tips of her fingers. The sensation was so stimulating I got goosebumps all along my skin, begging to be touched, teased, and toyed with more. Once I was amply excited again, Tao gripped the sides of my drenched panties and slowly pulled them off, as if to remind me she was in control this entire time. “I think,” she said, hovering dangerously close to my sensitive pussy, “it’s time I dig in.”

The moment her tongue entered me, I screamed as I came. Not once had I ever considered myself a “quick shot”, but in that moment the stimuli got to me and Hu Tao showed now mercy; she continued her attack on my sensitive parts, alternating between her fingers and her tongue, forcing me to cum many, many times. At some point she doubled up on her assault, using her tongue on my clit and reaching deep into my pussy with her fingers, drawing out an aggressive moan from me and completely draining me of all my stamina. The cycle went on for hours: Attack, Cum, Tease, Repeat. And I loved every second of it.

By the time she had finished, I was drenched in sweat and my own fluids, fatigue overcoming my every muscle. “Seems like you’ll be a great fit here” the Director stated, standing up to face me. I gazed up at her as she placed a hand on my bare chest, leaned in, and kissed me. The feeling lingered on my lips as she made her way towards the door. “You start next Monday” she said behind her, halfway through the door. “T-thank you ma’am” I called after her, scrambling to get my clothes back on.

And that’s the story of how I got a job at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

Todaloo~

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #hu tao #hu tao x reader #mod hoh

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blackjack-15 · 3 years

Text

Two Can Keep a Secret (if the Family Tree is Dead) — Thoughts on: Ghost of Thornton Hall (GTH)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW, CAP, ASH, TMB, DED

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: GTH; SPY; mention of ASH (and the ASH meta); mention of Nik/HER’s spoilery hints about GTH.

NOTE: THIS META CONTAINS DISCUSSION OF AND REFERENCE TO SEXUAL ASSAULT. MORE DETAILED SECTIONS ARE MARKED, BUT THIS WARNING STANDS FOR THE WHOLE META.

The Intro:

It’s time to get our Spooky on, lads. And we’re gonna do it in a meta of truly staggering length, so maybe go to the bathroom and get a snack before you start. My apologies.

Due to the (to be quite frank) absence of nostalgia surrounding them, there’s not really many games that are post 2010 that the fandom tends to agree on, but Ghost of Thornton Hall happens to be a standout in that pretty much everyone has found something to like about it. It often tops the charts of “best newer game” polls, and puts in a valiant effort against the more nostalgic mainstays.

There are a lot of reasons for this, in my mind – the quality of the writing, the choices that Nancy can make that actually affect the outcome of the game and especially affect Nancy, the fabulous voice work, the purposely-unanswered questions that give a deeper sense of horror — but if you ask me, the love for GTH really boils down to one thing:

Atmosphere.

Nancy Drew game fans (and I’m including myself in this) tend to prioritize atmosphere in the games, probably because without good and proper atmosphere it’s easier to pick apart the formula as you’re playing and to avoid being immersed in the game’s story, and GTH has it thick on the ground (figuratively and literally). The fear, unease, and overall sense of being an Intruder in this story comes from the overwhelming atmosphere provided by the grief of the characters, the time-sensitive nature of the crime, the secrets of the house and family, and, of course, the rather stellar visuals and locations.

The Thornton’s house and grounds really feel alive, but dead — in fact, they almost feel alive in the way that a zombie is, where they function and feed but have no heart. The gloriously (and meticulously) decorated walls are cast in shadow and grime; the portraits feel ominous and disapproving rather than lifelike and nostalgic; even the graveyard, as spread out and opulent as it is, feels claustrophobic and unwelcoming.

In a word, the game is – visually, thematically, story-wise, and atmospherically — haunting. And I think that overwhelming feeling of being haunted is, in large part, what draws fans back to this game again and again.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the scariest parts of this game are the things that you, as the player, do not see. Sure, the apparitions of Charlotte, the ghostly figures, the appearance of Harper — these are all scary, but the fear is gone after a moment, leaving the player unsettled but not running to hide under a blanket. The deaths of the fifty-four souls, the secret behind Clara’s birth, Harper’s breakdown — all these things that you don’t see, that you can only hear about or have hinted at are where the fear of the game kicks in, especially for older players.

It’s no secret that, despite the games being labeled for ages 10 and up, that the actual age of the Nancy Drew games fandom hasn’t been around 10 for some time — most people playing these games are in their 20s or 30s, or have siblings who are in their 20s and 30s and got into the games through them. Sure, there are some outliers, but the Clue Crew is much closer in general to the ages of the River Heights crew than they are to the age that that box says.

Because of this, the writers (and I’m going to especially hat-tip Nik here) behind the games have been able to slowly graduate the topics of the games to be a little bit older, hiding the true horror behind things that younger kids just won’t think about. This is especially the case with GTH and SPY, but you see it in a lot of the newer games, where the implications of events are normally scarier than the events themselves.

GTH takes that and runs with it, choosing to hint at and dance around truly upsetting — for any age — topics, presenting a mystery and a story that only get scarier once you’ve finished staring at the screen. The characters’ emotional problems and issues — loss, abandonment, anxiety, guilt — are like this too; while they’re present in the game itself, when you take a step back after finishing the game you realize just how badly scarred everyone is in the story.

Because answers were purposely left vague in order to 1) make the player work for it and 2) keep the 10+ rating, pretty much everyone who plays GTH has a slightly different opinion on what went down at Charlotte’s party, who the Thorntons really are, the circumstances of Clara’s birth, why the children of a female Thornton take their mother’s name — you name it, and there’s around 10 distinct opinions on it, and many more offshoots of those opinions besides.

I’m going to talk a little bit here about a couple of the “biggies”, since I don’t want it cluttering up the Suspect portion of this meta, so bear with me. I’m not so much interested in “this is the Correct answer” as much as just presenting the information from the game and wondering about its conclusions…but I (like everyone else) have my little pet theories, so what follows will be a little bit of reporting, a little bit of inference, and a little bit of supposition.

What follows is a frank discussion of topics such as rape and incest as they apply to GTH. If this is something you’d rather not consume, skip down to the next bolded line.

The most talked-about question left hanging in the game is, of course, who Clara’s father was. I think this question is best addressed from a two-pronged approach, however, because to figure out who Clara’s father could have been is a question that requires another question to be answered: why would Clara’s mother not tell her, even on her deathbed.

The most popular — and horrifying — answer to this is that Clara’s father is Jackson, and that she was a product of rape and incest. Now, just looking at the timeline, this theory adds up; Rosalie (Clara’s mum) would have been 25 when her father was 51 and would have raped her — young enough (especially in relation to her father, a middle-aged man of a lot of power in and out of the family) that she would have been scared to tell anyone anything, but old enough to not have it be super out of the ordinary that she got pregnant and had a baby — especially in 1968.

To add to this theory, there’s the note in the cellar that asks “who was this Jackson?...what’s he hiding, and who put it there? Was it Charlotte?”. If you’re looking for clues with the incest theory in mind, this seems to point directly to it — “who was this Jackson”? both Rosalie and Clara’s father. “What’s he hiding”? his crime of raping his daughter and impregnating her. The mention of Charlotte alludes to the supposition that Charlotte found proof of this crime — tangible proof — and put it somewhere; this pretty much supposes that there’s a document somewhere that names Jackson as Clara’s biological father, such as an admission of guilt or a paternity test.

The final “proof-positive” to this theory is that Rosalie refused to tell Clara who her father was even on her deathbed. We know from the family tree and Wade that Clara was between 5-10 when her mother died (I’m inclined to believe the family tree, and chalk the discrepancy up to either the writers not being concerned with math or, more likely and more charitably, to show that Wade isn’t a Perfectly Reliable source, just like everyone else), and Rosalie’s protection of Clara from the truth makes sense with a child in that age span. It’s one (horrible, horrible) thing to be forcibly impregnated by your father, but to have to say it out loud, and to say it to your child — that’s something that no one can even remotely blame Rosalie for not being up to, especially when weakened by sickness.

There are smaller points — like pointing out that this might be why Virginia (Wade’s mum) was skipped over in inheritance — but these small points have dozens of explanations, so they’re not really good for bolstering a theory unless you’re already dedicated to it and are looking for crumbs to shore it up.

End of frank discussion. The previous topics may be alluded to and/or mentioned, but not discussed in detail from this point on.

Now, let’s talk about another explanation. I think there’s a tendency to jump on the “Jackson Theory” because 1) there are clues that support it, but more importantly 2) because it’s horrifying, and it’s natural to leap to the scariest thing you can think of when considering a game that relies on fridge horror in the first place.

In the “Jackson Theory”, Rosalie would have hidden Clara’s parentage because of shame, horror, and trauma, and probably to (at least momentarily) spare Clara’s feelings — but Jackson isn’t the only explanation for her reticence.

Generally, we can break apart the reasons for Rosalie’s silence into three distinct emotions or emotional states: shame (supports the Jackson Theory), trauma (supports an assault by a known wolf), or, often overlooked, ignorance.

Clara is mentioned repeatedly as being outwardly and obviously scared about her place in the family — a fear borne from and exacerbated in her childhood, as Nik plainly states (“her insecurity wasn’t just a personal flaw, it was a response to her uneven upbringing,” emphasis mine).

An easy way for Rosalie, worried as she must have been about leaving her daughter alone, to fix this if Clara really was a product of incest, is to name a distant Thornton cousin, preferably one who was already dead or out of the picture, as the father, which would assure Clara’s place in the Thornton line by both blood and her future adoption. This way, if Clara’s parentage was tested, she’d show up as a Thornton from both sides in a way that wouldn’t be suspicious, and her daughter would have an easier life.

But Rosalie didn’t do this — she never even hinted at the identity of Clara’s father. As a woman known primarily for secret keeping — not just about Clara, but about everything (“She loved her secrets,” Wade says), Rosalie would have been adept at hiding things through various means, including through lies and subterfuge, not simply staying silent. Given the little we know of Rosalie’s character, then, let’s consider why she wouldn’t have said anything — even something false — to ensure her daughter’s safety when she died.

Looking outside of Jackson (and with any other known Thornton being quite unlikely), the vast majority of assaults are committed by those known to their victim — friends, acquaintances, classmates, etc.

The Thorntons were — and are — an incredibly powerful family, both monetarily and socially. Having dealt with families such as the Thorntons before in matters like this one, it is frankly incredibly unlikely that, had Rosalie been assaulted by someone she knew, that the truth wouldn’t have come to light through another source, and that the perpetrator would have been punished in every way possible.

BRIEF DISCUSSION OF ASSAULT STATISTICS AS THEY RELATE TO ROSALIE’S POSSIBLE CASE.

Some people familiar with only the post-20th-century world as “the modern age” and with a less stellar grasp of the pre-tech-boom world might raise an eyebrow at this supposition of punishment, but this is Exactly what would have happened — and did happen with regularity — even as “far back” as ’68 — especially when the crime was committed against a young, privileged, wealthy woman of the community.

Note, this is after the USMPC adjustment to the definition of rape in ’62, but before the adjustments in the early 70s; in 9 years, forcible rape rates (this number includes only female victims, so the true number of victims is indisputably higher, given the enormous jump in rape statistics in 2016-present as male cases have been included) had soared in the United States from around 17,000 per year in 1960 to, in the year Clara was born, 31,000 reported cases (source: DisasterCenter). With these soaring numbers came soaring awareness, and combined with Rosalie’s identity as a rich, powerful young woman in a rich, powerful family, it’s on the outside of belief that, had her attacker’s identity been known or suspected, that it could have remained a secret and gone unpunished.

END OF BRIEF DISCUSSION OF ASSAULT STATISTICS AS THEY RELATE TO ROSALIE’S POSSIBLE CASE.

Given this historical and social backing, the simplest and unavoidable potential answer to why Rosalie wouldn’t have either told Clara who her father was or made up a “brief love” who abandoned her Dishonorably, is this: she didn’t know.

(I’ll spare a mention here to say that, ignorance because of being a “wild child” in the 60s and having had multiple partners would be a possible theory, but it disregards everything else we know about Rosalie and her behavior, and that her reputation as a party girl would have been common knowledge, unable to be hidden from those who were alive at the time. So let’s move on to what else would cause ignorance.)

Though attacks by a person unknown to the victim are, in relation to known assailants, rare, in the absence of other evidence, the simplest answer to Clara’s parentage was that Rosalie was assaulted by someone that she did not know and had no way of knowing — and who had no idea of the social power of his victim.

Rosalie truly left nothing behind that points to her daughter’s parentage, even for later discovery or for Clara’s private eyes in a bank lockbox when she came of an Age that Rosalie deemed appropriate — so the conclusion to be drawn is, in the absence of evidence, that Rosalie didn’t answer Clara’s question because she simply couldn’t.

This ties into the other theory/mystery I want to cover here — that of what happened the night Charlotte died, and how (and in what way) Clara was culpable and responsible for Charlotte’s death. We know that, according to her, Clara went there simply to “scare” Charlotte — and given the circumstances that Clara gives this confession in, I’m inclined to believe her — and it’s my opinion that the reason didn’t have anything to do with the truth of the identity of Clara’s father.

My stance here — and it’s here that I take a solid stance, rather than presenting options — with Charlotte (and I’ll talk more about her general character in the Suspects section) is that Charlotte found the same breadcrumbs as the players did and came to the same conclusion — that Jackson was Clara’s biological father. The difference, however, is that I believe Charlotte’s conclusion to be understandable, but ultimately incorrect, and that Rosalie’s assaulter was a stranger.

Horrified, this is where Charlotte’s “cryptic obsession with Jackson” (mentioned in the note in the cellar) began, and what led to her changing the beneficiary of her will from Clara — poor, pitiable Clara, already a victim of so much, whose insecurities would be compounded by this truth — to Harper.

An important part of this theory — and of really any theory — is the consideration that Clara was pregnant with Jessalyn at the time. Not only does this partially explain why Clara’s thought was to save herself (and her baby) rather than dragging Charlotte out with her (regardless of any other factor), but it also brings a potential answer as to why Charlotte would change her will to favor Harper, rather than Clara. Just as the cellar note asks “Who was this Jackson?”, I find myself asking a similar, but no less important question:

“Who was this Austin Neely?”

Listed as Jessalyn’s (still living) father on the family tree, Austin Neely isn’t present anywhere else in the game — not by name and not through mentions of “Jessalyn’s father” or “Clara’s ex-husband/ex-boyfriend” or anything like that. There’s not even a mention of Clara contacting him as a guest for the wedding or to help search for their daughter. His absence is glaring, especially in a game so focused around family — so the question of who is Austin Neely is a question that seems incredibly important to me, given that Clara was pregnant at the time of Charlotte’s death.

In mentioning this theory, I do fully acknowledge that I have only some circumstantial evidence — mostly emotional, and based off of who the characters are/were — to support it, but given the total lack of information on Austin Neely, my guess is as good as anything else.

So here’s my theory: Austin Neely is not Jessalyn’s father, and Clara, like her mother, became pregnant via some type of assault (and given that this was the late 80s and given Clara’s age at the time, I would say the most likely culprit is date rape). When Clara became aware that she was pregnant, given her insecurities about her place in the Thornton clan and her lack of knowledge of her own father, would have come to this conclusion: she was not going to let her baby go through what she herself went through. So she did what her mother could have — and honestly speaking, probably should have — done, and lied.

Austin Neely was probably a friend or an acquaintance of Clara’s — someone her family didn’t really know, but that she could make up a story about dating/being engaged to and became pregnant by before it all fell apart. He would have likely received a payout (probably a rather large payout, given the Thornton’s money and influence) and disappeared from the area and the Thornton’s lives, signing off any responsibility or claim to “their” child before he left.

As a result of this, her child now has a father and doesn’t have to grow up wondering, and Clara avoids the stigma, court case, and general Uproar that would come with attempting to find her attacker. She also, importantly for her, avoids that mess for her child, who will grow up in a semi-normal atmosphere, surrounded by family, not doubting her place in the world — and no one has to know.

Except, of course, one person would know. The head of the family: Charlotte Thornton. From then on, based on this series of events, the story behind Charlotte’s death becomes quite straightforward.

Clara’s paranoia and general cleverness clue her in to the fact that Charlotte has changed her will in Harper’s favor, and is scared out of her mind; having recently experienced a trauma and being pregnant with a child, she’s afraid that she will be left with absolutely nothing, that her machinations with Austin Neely and all her striving will have been for nothing, and she will be cast off, unable to give her child the life she wants to give her.

Compounded by her ground-in fear that she does not belong, she decides to try to settle it with Charlotte — she’s going to scare her, to punish her, and make Charlotte rethink the changed will.

And Charlotte, bearing the weight of the family name and business, not to mention its continued propagation on her shoulders, sees a woman who has been — like her mother — assaulted and left pregnant, whose mental state is already fragile, and who the “revelation” of who Charlotte thinks her true father is would topple her completely — sees poor, pitiable, emotional, suspicious Clara, and refuses.

I think that, more than anything else, would have set Clara off. Remember what she yells at Charlotte’s ghost?

“You had so much, so much, and I had nothing.”

In answering some of the questions about the game, Nik/HER’s response is to say that Clara did not literally light the match that burned Charlotte alive — but we know that Charlotte burned all the same. In the video of her birthday, there are candles; in the dust and soot on the floor where Charlotte died, we see candlesticks. And in the response, again, we know that Charlotte lit the candles for the celebration.

In my ASH meta, I discussed the many meanings of the word “fire” and the term “setting the fire” — and that’s important here too. In this case, the fire was set by Charlotte refusing to reconsider the terms of her will; in her refusal, she probably touched on the same point that she makes in the note in her room — that Clara isn’t stable enough to take over the company. Now, I doubt she would have said that straight to Clara’s face, but even framed as a “you have enough to be going on with and I don’t want to burden you” sort of thing, that just would have reaffirmed all of Clara’s fears — that she was unwanted by the Thornton clan, that her child would be unwanted as a matter of course, and that she would truly have nothing.

And so my guess would be that Clara shoved her. Not hard enough to break anything, not even into a direct flame, but shoved her, and Charlotte jostled the table, and a candelabra fell to the floor, where we see it still in the modern day.

When Nancy sees Charlotte’s ghost out in that house — and yes, I’m firm on that being Charlotte’s actual ghost, as she’s out in the open air so carbon monoxide doesn’t figure in, and there’s no way for that to be Harper/Jessalyn — she burns from the skirt up, which follows with a candle falling to the floor and lighting that incredibly flammable dress on fire.

The last thing to note from HER/Nik’s response is that at the end of the game, Nancy faces the exact same choice that the Thorntons have: to help, or to save herself. In this, we have to look back to Clara and Charlotte, and conclude this: Clara chose not to help. It’s debatable how much help she could have really been — we’re not sure how pregnant she was at the time — or if it even occurred to her until she was already out and chose not to go back in — but at the very least, Clara’s guilt comes not only from the fact that she quarreled with Charlotte right before her death, but that she could have tried to prevent it, and didn’t.

Given the supposition that Charlotte was literally on fire, I really do doubt that getting her out or finding water to throw on her would have been successful, but it doesn’t matter — because Clara looks at it as a choice, and Clara (more importantly) looks at it as the wrong choice, and a choice that she’s been punished for since the day it happened. That’s why, when speaking to Charlotte’s ghost, she says this:

“Haven’t I suffered enough for you?”

The last point I want to make in this OBSCENELY long introduction is about GTH’s place in the pantheon of “Haunting Games”. When you look at the bare-bones (heh) circumstances that make up GTH, you’ll start to see shades of other games.

A relationship/marriage gone a bit wrong, a family secret, an ancestral home, a relative/ancestor whose spectre looms over the story, mysterious apparitions and appearances, and Nancy’s status as an outsider and a skeptic — yeah, both CUR and HAU should come to mind immediately.

Having said my piece about, well, the badness of CUR and HAU and their unsuccessful approach to their basic plot points, it delights me that GTH takes a good hard look at them and says “well, what if we did this well this time? What if we gave our characters the complexity, the emotional resonance, the secrets and lies that we should have the first time?”

Like CUR and HAU, the Family is at the center of the game — except this time we believe in this family, in their relationships to one another, and we feel the effects of the family and their choices, not just hear about it from a diffident 9-year-old or a cranky caretaker. The history of the Thornton clan comes alive through the house, the graveyard, the books and journals that we have of them. We understand what this family is and the choices that they make — even if we don’t approve of them — and they feel real, not just like a background chucked in to Make The Spooky Things Happen.

Also like CUR and HAU, we deal with a central relationship and the complexities that come over two people deciding to get married. Happily, this game (unlike CUR and HAU) treats the central relationship as a thing of Import, and comes to the conclusion that it’s the happiness and well-suitedness of the couple that matters, not the family that surrounds them or anything else. It asks the question “what happens if one person runs away from the relationship?” and answers it, quite satisfactorily, with “there are probably some issues that need ironed out before anything else should happen”.

Interestingly, GTH also takes the good points of CUR and HAU – especially HAU’s atmosphere and CUR’s love of family tidbits — and improves upon them as well. Instead of Jane showing off her studies so that Nancy can solve a few puzzles, Wade walks her through the Thorntons were (at least in his eyes) and helps her get to know the people she’s helping. Instead of being duly impressed at the atmosphere in a bombed-out castle, everywhere on the island is teeming with fog — literal and figurative — as Nancy tries to decode the past to help the future.

Now then, let’s leave the general behind, and focus on the specifics of GTH.

The Title:

Ghost of Thornton Hall is a great title in the way that Secret of the Scarlet Hand is a great title – moody, evocative, gives us our location/focus right away, but not in a way that spoils anything, etc. If anything, it’s a little more flexible – are we dealing with The Ghost of Thornton Hall (Charlotte), the ghost(s) of the Thornton family, the ghosts of those who died on the island, or — in a very fun way — are we talking about the ghost of Thornton Hall — the spirit of the building where so much life and death has happened?

As a title for a Haunting game, you really don’t get much better than GTH, and it centers the player’s attention right where it should be — on the messed up family that the game centers around, and how their past impacts their future.

The Mystery:

Nancy’s phone rings in the middle of the night, with Savannah Woodham’s drawl on the other end, informing her of a kidnapping that’s taken place. She’d go herself, but believes wholeheartedly – and is frightened by — the ghost that’s taken up residence on Blackrock Island, Georgia, and doesn’t believe she’d be enough help.

Of course, this isn’t the whole truth, but we’ll get into that later.

Armed with both her detective skills and her inherent skepticism, Nancy sets off for Georgia to find the missing bride-to-be. Of course, when she gets there, she quickly discovers that the family — and family history — is even murkier and laced with tragedy than the presence of a ghost would suggest, and that, even with everyone searching for Jessalyn Thornton, she is nowhere to be found.

To find her, Nancy has to delve deep into the Thornton family lore, Jessalyn’s relationships with her family and friends – not to mention her preoccupied fiancé — and figure out what really did happen to dear, sweet Charlotte Thornton nearly two decades ago…

GTH, as a mystery, is chock-full of hints, clues, red herrings, and background facts that make figuring out the truth behind everything a joy and a delight — not to mention a task that will take more than one playthrough. GTH is also unique in that its mystery can end in more than one way, and that Nancy’s choices actually have more of an impact than just what souvenir she sends home to her erstwhile boyfriend. Choosing to save herself, to save just the “innocent” (for a certain value of innocence), or to save everyone leads to different endings not just for Nancy but for everyone involved with the Thornton Clan, from its matriarch all the way down to a certain spook-hunting ex-girlfriend.

Underpinning the mystery is this question: did Charlotte really come back as a ghost to haunt Blackrock and the Thorntons, or are her appearances just the result of sneaky relatives and atmospheric maleficence? Can all of the sightings be explained by a mixture of carbon monoxide poisoning, a few relatives playing dress-up, and huge amounts of suggestion and guilt? Is it the case, as Rentaro posited a few games earlier, that a ghost doesn’t have to be real to haunt you?

In a word, no. In a few more words, of course not.

Tying the whole of the ‘haunting’ mysteries together is this (previously mentioned) fact: Nancy is not remarkable for being a Skeptic, she is remarkable for being a Skeptic in a world where ghosts exist. The moving wood (and possibly the silhouette) in MHM, Camille’s ghost dancing along in TRN, the reflection of Kasumi in the water in SAW, the ghost of the Willow in GTH — these are all real, unexplainable-by-tech-or-imagination ghost sightings, and the fact that Nancy doesn’t believe in them doesn’t change their reality one bit.

In the house, you can cite carbon monoxide and Jessalyn/Harper running around in a costume for at least some of them — though not all. But the sightings outside — carbon monoxide does not stay in the system for very long in clear air, blessedly — of Charlotte? The consistency of the spectre? The apparition of her burning up at the site of her birthday party? These aren’t things that you can explain by costume theater — especially since these sightings have been happening for over a decade by people who haven’t stepped foot in Thornton Hall.

When they say that Blackrock belongs to Charlotte and has since the fire, it’s not a literary turn of phrase — Charlotte is there, and refuses to be forgotten. Nancy’s status as a Skeptic prevents her from hysteria, but it does not stop her from being haunted by the Ghost of Thornton Hall.

Now, let’s talk about the players — dead and alive — that make this mystery as complicated and dark as it is.

The Suspects:

Beginning with the matriarch of the Thorntons seems as good a place to start as any, so let’s talk about Clara Thornton. Cousin to Charlotte and Harper, Clara was taken in after her mother’s untimely death (but before her aunt and uncle’s equally untimely deaths) and became the equivalent of a sister in at least Charlotte and Harper’s eyes — though Clara herself was always unsettled and wary about her place in the family.

After the events of Charlotte’s tragic birthday (covered above), Clara visited Charlotte’s grave every night for a year, and was hospitalized after being pushed off of the widow’s walk (more on this later). Whether due to her upbringing or her Thornton blood – or, most likely, both — Clara is secretive, paranoid, wracked with guilt…and a loving mother and extremely capable businesswoman.

Though GTH doesn’t actually have a culprit —Jessalyn wasn’t kidnapped and Charlotte wasn’t murdered — Clara is, as the resident secret keeper and witness to Charlotte’s death, the closest thing that we’ve got. Clara’s sense of guilt is far beyond anything that she could have done, and is haunted so completely as to turn her rather cold.

I have a lot of sympathy for Clara, who made a mistake in a fit of anger (whether that’s pushing Charlotte or just not helping her when she started to burn) at the age of 21 and has been wracked with guilt and haunted by the spectre — real and imagined — of her ‘sister’ ever since (not to mention knowing that her other ‘sister’ blamed and hated her for it). Charlotte died before she had the time to make too many mistakes, but Clara had the entirety of the estate and the business — thousands of people’s livelihoods — thrust into her hand when she was a single mother of 21 years of age. Even had Clara been completely stable, it would have been a lot, and it’s no wonder that she rules the company with an iron fist.

I also want to point out that, due to Harper’s breakdown at the funeral and her afterwards, that even had Charlotte’s second will been found right then, Clara still would have inherited until at least Harper received her bill of mental health, as the closest heir to Charlotte of (legally) sound mind and body.

Let’s talk then about the other heir, Harper Thornton. A fan favorite for a myriad of reasons — her Helena-Bonham-Carter-esque design, her wonderful VA (props to Keri Healey, voice of Hotchkiss, Sally, Paula, Simone, and Madeline!) knocking her lines out of the park, and her dark sense of humor, Harper is, like most of the Thorntons, incredibly unstable, paranoid, violent…an affectionate aunt, and a pretty darn good detective in her own right.

Since GTH doesn’t have a ‘culprit’, Harper stands in her own guilty/not guilty paradigm along with Clara. She had nothing to do with Charlotte’s death personally, but was the one who caused assorted injuries and thousands of dollars in property damage at the funeral, and the one who pushed Clara off the widow’s walk and hospitalized her. Yes, Harper was young — 18 when Charlotte died, but pushing your cousin/sister off of a balcony is wrong at any age.

It’s worth noting that of the three Thornton ‘sisters’, one is guilty of some degree of manslaughter/criminal negligence, and the other of attempted murder. When Charlotte notes that she herself has a dose of the “Thornton paranoia”, she’s not just whistling Dixie.

The biggest problem the Thorntons have, honestly speaking, is that all of them are way too emotional and react without thinking. Clara confronting Charlotte, Charlotte not taking Clara aside to talk about the will, Harper’s injuring of others and blaming/pushing Clara, Wade destroying machinery, Jessalyn disappearing rather than talking things out…none of the Thorntons, past or present, have seemed to think with their brains since the woman who received the land on Blackrock Island after the Civil War in the first place.

In keeping with the theme, I want to talk about Charlotte Thornton next. A girl who inherited the Thornton land and business at way too young an age — I don’t even wanna know why Jackson hated his adult daughter Virginia (and yes, I know that there’s a supposition to this in the “Jackson Theory”, but it’s pure supposition) so much that he would stake the family future on a 20-year-old, no matter how much everyone liked her — after the death of her parents four years prior, Charlotte was the darling of the Thornton family.

Well-liked by everyone with a beautiful singing voice, Charlotte was nonetheless every inch a Thornton; she outright acknowledged her own paranoia, kept secrets and locked rooms closer to her than her family, and had a flair for the dramatic and emotional. After considering her cousin/sister Clara too unstable for the task of inheriting the family Business, Charlotte, rather than turning to her older aunt or naming multiple beneficiaries to ease the load, instead leaves 100% of it to her younger sister Harper.

I do want to point out the irony here in leaving the business to Harper over Clara on the grounds of mental stability. Whatever else Charlotte was good at, she was not a good judge of character, even giving leeway for her being 21.

After her death, Charlotte haunts the family home, unable to leave the place that was, for a year, hers to inherit. But why would ‘dear, sweet’ Charlotte haunt, frighten, and otherwise unsettle those around her — from family to neighbors to curious kids — especially to the extent that she does?

To answer that question, we need to talk about the family member that everyone says is incredibly close to Charlotte in personality — our missing bride, Jessalyn Thornton.

Clara’s daughter, Jessalyn is painted as being a sort of return of Charlotte; everyone loves her (all Thornton employees are combing the island looking for her, for heaven’s sake), everyone agrees on her, and she’s next in line to inherit the Thornton family business. She’s even around Charlotte’s age (24, rather than 21, but close enough) during the game, for heaven’s sake — the comparisons are not subtle, nor are they meant to be.

Since it’s more than halfway through the game that Nancy meets Jessalyn, the things that people say about her are the best clues to her personality that we have…right?

Everyone agrees that Jessalyn would never run off and make people worry like this, that even if she was scared or had second thoughts about the wedding or even just needed to be alone, that she would never do this to her family. And, as it turns out, everyone — her mother, her uncle, her best-friend-cum-fiancé — everyone is wrong. Jessalyn did exactly that — she ran off, made everyone worry, and didn’t think about her family, friends, fiancé, or employees one bit.

It also takes her no effort at all to fully believe a woman she’s never met that her mom is a vicious, cackling murderer just because her (single, incredibly busy) mother is a bit emotionally cold, so she’s also not a great judge of character.

And remember, we’re told over and over again — Jessalyn is just like Charlotte. Sure, Jessalyn is also our Nancy foil in this game — a young woman who needs to learn the truth about her mother, coerced/guided by a quasi-unreliable source, worrying her family by running off — and that’s important for Nancy’s character, but Jessalyn is first and foremost our Charlotte analogue. Jessalyn’s family and friends don’t understand who Jessalyn is…so I think it’s fair to say that Charlotte’s family and friends didn’t understand who Charlotte was, either.

We see Charlotte, through her writings and actions, could be thoughtless, was a poor judge of character, was secretive and paranoid — all things that no one even alludes to when speaking of her. Sure, there’s the idea of not speaking ill of the dead, but someone would have noted these things, even fondly or mildly.

So why would Charlotte haunt this place, haunt these people, when she was so good and kind and loved everyone? The simplest answer, the least convoluted explanation, is just that she wasn’t. That the Thorntons didn’t understand Charlotte, as much as they loved her, just like they didn’t understand Jessalyn.

Speaking of Thorntons who may be misunderstood, we’ll focus on Wade Thornton next. A little more rough-and-tumble and a little less refined than his relatives seem to be, Wade is introspective, superstitious, hard-working, and a bit gloomy…along with having some anger issues, vast amounts of distrust, and a bit of egotism.

Wade’s (at least legally) guilty of a few things in the past, but since he won’t even go into Thornton Hall, he’s a pretty easy cross-off of our list of suspects. Wade’s there to give Nancy information on the Thornton Clan, to provide the explanation as for (partially) why Savannah isn’t there herself, and to show another facet of the Thorntons — their anger.

Whether or not you agree with Wade’s actions that led to Clara pressing charges — though I think everyone can agree it’s pretty stupid to destroy your own family’s machinery, especially when the only danger to the employees was caused by him scaring them half to death — and it highlights that Wade, philosophical though he is, is just as much a Thornton as those he despises. He even calls himself out on it – that while he used to think he was on the side of “Good Thorntons”, he’s not so sure anymore.

The best (serious) line in the game does come from Wade — I will be in love with his description of dating Savannah as “[falling] for her like a Black Tuesday banker” until I die. It’s a perfect metaphor without sounding pretentious, and shows just how bleak his own worldview really is.

Next is The Fiancé, Colton Birchfield, who has the most hilariously WASP-y name to ever come out of a Nancy Drew game. A man who’s struggled with depression and anxiety all his life, Colton was born to two politicians and has lived in the spotlight — and his marriage to Jessalyn is getting just as show-stopper-y as a campaign trail before she disappeared.

I mentioned above that the resolution to Colton and Jessalyn’s relationship is the healthy, sane version of what should have happened in CUR and HAU, and I stand by that. While I don’t necessarily like him going back to Lexi after the game is over — a relationship interrupted by one party being paid off is not the healthy, loving, loyal relationship that Colton needs — it’s clear that he and Jessalyn would have made each other content, but never fulfilled romantically.

Colton’s guilty of nothing more than not being in love with his best friend, and he’s a refreshing breath of air as someone related tangentially to, but not cast down by, the Thornton family drama. He may get less sympathy than our other cast members, but he’s no less deserving of it, and I’m really rooting for him to find someone that will give him the same amount of love and loyalty that he’ll give them.

We’ll journey outside the Thornton family and their (almost) relations for our next ‘suspect’. Addison Hammond, Jessalyn’s friend and bridesmaid, makes a cameo phone appearance here to tell us that Thornton Hall is Totes Spooky, and that Jessalyn vanished not once, but twice in the night.

I quite enjoy Addison, not because she plays a big part or because she’s an exceptional character — she’s as bare-bones as we get in the later games (ignoring MED/SEA/MID), honestly — but because she’s simply a girl in her 20s reacting the way that most of us would if our unnecessarily spooky friend dragged us to an old haunted house and then vanished twice. Good for you, girl.

Coming in for a wonderful appearance is Savannah Woodham, ex-ghost hunter, ex-girlfriend of Wade Thornton, and the detective who was supposed to be on the case. Savannah’s too scared of the Ghost (and too reticent to talk to Wade face-to-face) to risk stepping foot on Blackrock Island herself, but she’s more than willing to send the biggest skeptic she knows, hoping that Nancy’s skepticism will keep her safe.

As lovely as Savannah is in SAW — and I adore her in that game — she really shines in GTH. Probably the biggest moment she gets in the game — and probably my second favorite moment in the game period — is her tale of tracing the shape of the old willow tree on her wall, only to have a body discovered under that exact willow tree after a storm. It’s a delightfully creepy — and most importantly, completely inexplicable by any means other than accepting that the supernatural exists — moment, and I think it’s key to understanding Savannah as a character in GTH.

Savannah suffers under the weight of knowing that there truly are Things that Go Bump in the Night, that can’t be arrested or captured or gotten rid of by normal, legal means. Her background knowledge of the Thorntons helps Nancy to get an initial feel for the family, and it helps to not have an ex-girlfriend wandering around that the Thorntons might have a grudge against or dislike for.

She is, in effect, the mirror image of Nancy — what Nancy might have become without her inborn skepticism — and that alone, even ignoring everything else about her, is fascinating to me.

Our other phone contacts are Ned Nickerson and Bess Marvin, teamed up due to George’s absence while doing an internship (at Technology of Tomorrow Today, no less!) and Bess’ extreme boredom without anyone else to hang out with.

The lovely thing about Ned and Bess is that we get to see Ned when he’s not Solo Boyfriend Ned, but a college guy hanging out with his friend. Their light-hearted banter is hilarious and comfortable (Bess dramatically asking permission to do a spit-take in his living room is of particular note), and we really get to see a different side of Nancy’s oft-abandoned boyfriend.

You can tell that their voice actors are having a terrific time as well (Scott Carty’s pitch-perfect imitation of Jennifer Pratt’s cadence and tone makes me laugh every time), and it really helps bring a bright and colorful spot to this otherwise rather tense and grim mystery.

We’ll round out our character list with the quasi-amateur, quasi-professional detective herself, Nancy Drew. Through her foil with Jessalyn — discussed above, so I won’t get too into it here — we get to see Nancy in a slightly different light, and get to look at the effect that she has on those around her when she disappears.

We know Carson and Ned (and occasionally Bess/George, and even more occasionally, Hannah) worry about Nancy while she’s off on a case, but this is the first time Nancy herself is dealing with what she leaves behind every time she jets off to Venice, or gets trapped in a lava tube, or lost in a rock maze. Nancy hasn’t investigated a straight-up kidnapping (or what appears to be one) since Maya in FIN (no, I’m not counting HAU, as it’s not played as a kidnapping nor does anyone think it is until 2/3 of the way through the game), and she has the same sense of urgency here that she did back then.

Upon replaying the game, the player will lose that sense of urgency for Jessalyn — we know she’s alive and well, and was never kidnapped — but Nancy’s reactions to the family are what stay interesting. She’s concerned for Jessalyn, but does most of her detective work through getting a sense of what the rest of the family thinks of the missing girl.

Given Nancy’s reputation as a good girl, a solid presence (if an occasional one) who loves her family and friends, and who is always responsible, it’s easy to see why she misses the one question that would have helped her solve the case in half of the time: what if Jessalyn isn’t missing? After all, Jessalyn, like Nancy, would never jet off after hearing an unsubstantiated claim about her mother without telling anyone or pausing to confirm it through a different, more trustworthy source, right?

In this game, we discover a huge characteristic about Nancy: she is reckless. Now, we know this already from other games — that Nancy is reckless physically, confronting bad guys alone, diving down into murky catacombs, jumping from pillars in ancient tombs — but here we see that she’s also reckless emotionally. Even though it interferes with her investigation, Nancy gets personally involved in this case; she’s mad at Colton for “cheating” on Jessalyn, she’s upset by the tragedy of Charlotte’s death, and she’s concerned for Jessalyn’s safety in a different way than she usually is with a victim or suspect.

Nancy’s always been willing to take huge risks, but she always stays emotionally on the surface level of a case — a good and necessary trait for a detective, and one that allows her to face down killers, saboteurs, and forgers without blinking. Here, Nancy’s dragged down into the web of the Thorntons, and — as we see in the middle and bad endings especially — she doesn’t quite recover from it. Nancy loses a bit of objectivity here, but what she gains is humanity — and she’ll need that for the last two games in this meta series.

The Favorite:

With such a well-executed game — even though it doesn’t fall in my personal top 5 ranking — there’s going to be a lot to love, so let’s get down to it.

My favorite puzzle is probably Nancy’s trek to ‘discover’ the ‘ghost’ — aka completing Harper’s tasks in order to meet her, culminating with reciting Charlotte’s rhyme while blindfolded. It’s a different kind of puzzle than the type we get commonly with Nancy Drew games, and really helped spark and keep the tension needed to maintain such a spooky game.

My favorite moment in the game is a quieter one — it’s Nancy’s remarks on Charlotte’s room. She’s taken aback at how, after a game of everyone talking about Charlotte, that it’s opening the door to her room that cements Charlotte as a living, breathing person. She continues that she can’t let that feeling distract her, that she needs to treat the room like the rest of the house and gather tools that will let her find Jessalyn, but it’s lovely to see the effect of the Thornton’s history really settle into Nancy’s bones as Charlotte Thornton turns from a scary rhyme that children chant to a girl who lived and died in the same walls that Nancy’s exploring.

There are, of course, other things that I love — the objectively creepy poem (“we’ll let you share with Charlotte/a gown of coal and glowing flame” is an incredible line), Savannah’s story about the willow tree, the small Francy crumbs of Frank being sullen after his Very Revealing voicemail in DED and considering an MBA, the multi-layered relationship that Wade and Savannah have, the gorgeous detail of Thornton Hall — and all of these add up to a game that’s frankly just enjoyable to play.

The big thing to mention in this game, as I talked a bit about in the intro, is its atmosphere.

Throughout the entire game, there’s this palpable feeling of death and grief and loss and pure pain, and those emotions are what GTH relies on to keep itself Scary, not the few spectre scares and swinging scythes that it also has to offer.

I don’t normally quote things other than the games/words of the cast and crew in these metas, but I do make exceptions when the quotation is this good, so I tip my hat here to Tumblr user aniceworld, speaking about ranking GTH their top Nancy Drew game of all time:

“The reason GTH is so successful as a scary game is because there’s such a pervasive sense of sorrow at Thornton Hall. People have died here who shouldn’t have. A family has been destroyed. The house has seen so much trauma it can literally no longer stand on its own. There are ghosts that live here, whether you can see them or not.”

This horror is far better than bloody slashers or obnoxious “continuous mysterious accidents”-style thrillers that tend to permeate the genre; instead of random death-by-umbrella or scary-guy-in-the-shower incidents driving the plot, the emotion behind death and loss and betrayal gets to take a turn at the wheel, and the game is much better for it.

The Un-Favorite:

As with any game, however, no matter how good the atmosphere, there are some things that I don’t love.

I’m not actually the biggest fan of Harper; while her design is great and her VA does a spectacular job, she’s a little cartoonish among a cast that endeavors to stay as far away from broad stereotypes as possible.

It’s fine to have a large personality, it’s fine that she’s a bit cracked, it’s great that she has her own reasons and motivations beyond “expose the truth” (especially since she’s not interested in exposing the truth, just in proving that Clara’s a murderer) — she’s just really not my cup of tea, and I prefer Harper as the Anonymous Note Leaver to Harper the Conversational Partner.

Even if she does get some of the best lines in the game.

I don’t really have a least favorite moment or puzzle that sticks out to me; there are puzzles I struggle more or less with, but none of them are immersion-breaking or so frustrating that I have to get up and walk away. The ones I love, I enjoy solving; the ones I don’t love, I turn to the walkthrough and finish them up to get on with the story.

The Fix:

So how would I fix Ghost of Thornton Hall?

Even given my small problems with Harper, I’m not sure I’d change her. Sure, she’s a bit Broad for the game, generally speaking, but she’s also another example of what loss can do to a person — it can make you cold and withdrawn, it can make you righteously angry and dismissive…or it can turn you malicious and violent. She’s an important presence regardless of my personal taste, and while I might tweak a line of dialogue or two, it’s important to note that her Persona is just another thing for Nancy to discover and re-discover as she investigates the Thorntons.

While not a perfect game — very few, if any, of the Nancy Drew games qualify for that title — Ghost of Thornton Hall is an excellent entry in the Nancy Drew series as a whole, and in the smaller series of Nancy-centric games. Through it, we get to see what happens to those who are left behind after a tragic, sudden, and even violent loss — and that becomes more and more important as we leave behind the gloomy Georgia island and leap across the pond to Glasgow.

#nancy drew #nancy drew games #clue crew #ghost of thornton hall #nancy drew meta #GTH #my meta #long post #video games

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

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The sketchbook

Prompt number: 27 “give me that”

Fandom: IT

Paring: Stanley Uris x reader (aged up to juniors in high school)

Rating: T

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Bullying. Swearing I think. Mentions of a boner. The use of the word flamer.

A/N: It’s a short one today boys and ghouls. I wasn’t super motivated and energetic during the day and SNL started tonight, so priorities lmao. Anywho, enjoy day three of fictober. Also it’s spooky season so my brain is stuck on IT.

You had been encouraging Stan to become an artist since the start of freshman year when he finally worked up the nerve to show you his sketches of the birds he watched for hours on end. Each drawing was done with so much love and care, the thickness of each pencil stroke clearly thought out beforehand, and the birds looked so real they would fly off the page if you left the book open long enough. Stan never believed your praises, claiming you had to say it because you’re his best friend, and said that being an artist wasn’t a suitable and reliable career. So he never took art as an elective, always accounting.

Now almost done with your junior year of high school Stan always seems to be sketching in his book, running out of pages in a mere month. One day in english class you peer over his shoulder and see the most realistic drawing of an eye you have ever seen. Just looking at it you can tell that the imaginary person the eye belongs to is laughing, there’s an unmistakable sparkle to it and the eye scrunches slightly.

Noticing that the pages are running low, and knowing that his dad won’t buy him another sketchbook anytime soon, you take your saved up allowance to buy Stan the thickest and best sketchbook the art store has to offer. Bev teases you relentlessly for being so obvious about your feelings, and the boys tease Stan for blushing when you give him the present. The losers were always trying to see what Stan is sketching, upset that you’re the only one he shows, but he doesn’t even show you over half of the drawings he’s done.

He leaves his sketchbook closed and off to the side at lunch, usually helping you with last night's math homework while the losers eat. Usually nobody touches said book, but today Richie is feeling particularly troublesome. The boy with the glasses is giddy because he and Eddie finally kissed and they're going out on their first date tonight, so the trashmouth shows his happiness by being invasive with everyone else. The boy had already ruffled through your backpack earlier in the day and stole a smoke from Bev. Richie’s long fingers wrap around the book, neither you nor Stan notice until the book is being pressed firmly to Richie’s chest and away from your grasp.

“Where’s my book?” Stan asks a few minutes later, pushing the math homework and lunch trays roughly.

“Oh you mean this?” Richie smirks, confidently holding the sketchbook up between his thumb and index finger.

“Give it back to him Richie,” you roll your eyes, you know that even in his mood Richie won’t actually flip through the book. Luckily for every loser, Richie had learned which lines not to cross over the years.

“Or I could just take it,” Henry’s victorious laugh seems to reverberate off the walls of the lunchroom as he grabs the sketchbook from Richie’s fingers. Richie looks panicked and like he’s about to vomit at the turn of events, beside him Eddie’s face scrunches up in disgust at all of the germs being collected on the leather-bound book.

“Give me that back,” Stan’s voice goes up in active, quickly standing from his seat. His attempts at reaching for the sketchbook are futile, Bowers only backing away further or raising his arms up and out of Stan’s reach.

“It looks like Uris here isn’t a flamer after all,” Bowers laughs, his friends joining in, as he flips through the pages filled with Stan’s beautiful artwork. “He’s got a creepy little crush on (Y/L/N), I bet he gets a boner drawing these!”

“Give him the book back Henry,” your voice is hard and annoyed. You don’t let his taunts get to you, there was no way Stan was actually drawing you.

“Look at this one!” Bowers ignores you as he laughs louder, pointing out a picture to his friends. “(Y/L/N) you look good in a swimsuit.”

Before you can respond, Stan launches himself at Henry, successfully grabbing the sketchbook and tearing it from the bully’s grip. Luckily none of the pages ripped, each drawing still in perfect condition. You try to get Stan to meet your eyes, you want to know if he really was drawing you, but he refused to meet your gaze as he packed up his bag. Stan doesn’t say a word to anyone, instead he slings his bag over one shoulder and quickly leaves the cafeteria. Bowers and his friends are laughing in delight, you’re too focused on the boy in his khakis, baby blue button up shirt, and his mop of curls receding figure to yell at Henry.

“Bail me out of detention,” you look Richie in the eye as you say this, knowing he’s the only one with the skills to get you out of there. You quickly stand from your own seat and grab your bag, following Stan into the boys bathroom you just watched him disappear into.

You hear quiet sniffles when you push the door to the bathroom, said sniffles stop once the door creaks and alerts Stan that someone entered. He’s hiding in one of the stalls, his shiny brown shoes peeking out from under the stall door give him away.

“Stan please talk to me,” you stick out a hand to push on the stall door, but it's locked and doesn't budge. You let out a little sigh, turning and locking the door to the bathroom before heading back to stand in front of his stall. “I’ll stay in here all day if I have to, please talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” there’s a shaking in his voice that surprises you.

“Stan, baby, what are you sorry for?” you don’t notice your slip up, letting out the pet name you wish you could call him Stan unlocks the stall door, eyes wide and slightly watery as he stares at you.

Instead of responding Stan hands you the sketchbook, letting you see every drawing for the first time. Bowers wasn’t kidding, the book is filled with drawings of you. You midlaugh, you lounging in the hammock with your showercap on, you in your swimsuit at the quarry, you looking up from a textbook when you study with him. You’re taken aback by how beautiful he’s managed to make you look, causing you to wonder if this is how he sees you.

“Babyboy, these are beautiful,” you breathe after a few tense moments. You finally tear your eyes away from the drawings and are greeted by his bright red cheeks. “What?”

“You need to stop doing that,” he murmurs quietly, looking down at the yellowing tiles beneath his loafers

“Doing what?” you’re head tilts to the side, you replay everything you’ve said that could make him uncomfortable.

“Calling me baby and babyboy,” he chances a quick glance at you, before once again avoiding your gaze.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you rush out. “I didn't realize I was saying that! And the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable! I’m so sorry Stan-”

“I never said you made me uncomfortable,” courage surges through him as he takes a step closer to you and finally meets your eyes. “I like you (Y/N), if you couldn’t already tell, and I can’t listen to you call me that knowing you’ll never do it again. And I want you to do it again-”

“I like you too, Stan,” you lean in for a quick kiss to cut off his rambling, running your hands through his curls as you pull back. “My babyboy.”

Permeant tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

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wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

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Today, Tomorrow, Forever.

Behold, the four AM dabi fic. Also this is the first part of a series so look out for the next part. Also Also, this is based on a lot of different books and shows so if at any point you’re like “hey this is just like X” you’re probably right.

Dabi x Reader (not really in this chapter but we’ll get there)

warnings: swearing, violence, abuse, Endeavor, spooky shit, cannon divergence (Dabi is a good brother), this is a full AU so I did mess with the ages of the Todorokis,

words: 2,300

summary: Out of the frying pan into the fire, that was the expression right? leaving one bad situation into something much much worse? That’s where you were right now, in the fire.

Sometimes it was hard for you to tell what was real, and what was fiction. Often you’d wake from a vivid dream and as you blinked the spots from your eyes and looked up at the textured ceiling of your bedroom, and for an instant, or in truth much longer than an instant, you’d still be there. In the dream. Then you would get up and you would remember, you were in your room, in your bed, in your body. At least that’s what it seemed like.

Then of course there were the ghosts. You weren’t sure if the ghosts were reality or fiction, they seemed like a gray area between the two. Sometimes other people could see them, which lead you to believe they were real, but then most of the time it was only you seeing the figures and shapes, But that didn’t mean they weren’t real.

All this to say when Enji Todoroki told you his house was haunted, you were surprised to meet someone so open to believing in ghosts. Of course, he rather quickly squashed that idea with the next words out of his mouth being “Those rumors are of course ridiculous but some idiots still believe it,”

“Of course,” you replied meekly, dropping your eyes from his stern gaze. “Ghosts, real or not don’t bother me so that won’t be an issue, Sir.”

You needed the job, badly, so you were willing to lie. Enji was looking for a Nanny for his youngest son, you were looking to get away from where you were coming from, so you were both in a position to help the other. And the only catch seemed to a slightly haunted house. You could live with that, as long as your own ghosts stayed away.

“When can you start?”

The Todoroki manner was a large one, Ornate and lavish if not old, clean and well taken care of it seemed, but empty. There was a housekeeper, a cook, a gardener, and a pool boy, all of whom seemed very nice but all of them seemed to slip into the shadows the moment you turned your back, and as it where you were to be the only one who lived in the manner full time, isolating you further.

As Enji walked you through the home you couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was more than the ghost rumors that were keeping people away. There were framed photos on the wall, of Enji, his wife, and four children all of varying ages, you found it strange that none of them seemed to be here, save Enji and Shoto.

Speaking of Shoto, You were warned about the scar that covered nearly half of his face, but the warning wasn’t enough to prepare you for seeing it in person, it took all you had not to gasp when you looked the boy in the face. Similarly, you knew that he was a quiet boy, but you hadn’t been expecting him to give you a single “nice to meet you,” then stay silent for the rest of your interaction.

“He’s just a little shy, we’ll warm up to each other,” you assured, smiling first at Shoto and then at his father.

Then Enji left leaving you alone with his son. You were awful with kids, terrible really and if you had had any other choice you might not have taken this job. You had no idea how to even begin acting around this kid.

You decided to pull from what little human interaction you could and decided to treat him like a coworker. Right so what would you do with a cold coworker?

“Shoto, I’m still new so why don’t you show me your favorite part of the house alright? Then we can do something fun,” you offered. He thought about it and nodded. While he didn’t say anything just stood up and started walking out of the room. You followed him as he lead you out into the backyard there was a large grass field and a pool with trees lining the promoter. It was a warm spring day, but most of the trees in the yard were dead, not yet budding, still suffering from the harsh winter.

Shoto lead you into a patch of trees further in the back of the field to a cluster of oak trees and you saw one had an old ropes wing hanging from the lowest branch.

“You like to swing?” you asked and he shook his head

“No? Then why this spot,” you asked and for the first time since meeting him, he spoke

“My mom used to like this swing, she’d sit on it and read me stories,” he said, crouching down and sitting down on one of the roots of the old tree. You crouched down beside him.

“I see, so you come here to remember your mom?” you asked and he nodded silently. You took a shuddering breath and reached down the collar of your shirt pulling out a slender silver chain that held a locket, and showed the necklace to Shoto.

“I do the same thing with this locket, it helps me remember my mom too,” you said.

“Your mom went away too?” he asked.

“Yeah, she got really sick when I was younger and, she went away,” you said, choking back emotion, you were surprised that talking about your mother still brought up this sadness in you, Shoto reached out and touched your hand. Almost like he was trying to comfort you.

“We still see her sometimes, in the hospital, but it’s not the same,” He said quietly, a cold breeze passed over you, ruffling your hair and making you shiver.

“That must be hard,” you said and he nodded, “why don’t you show me some of your other favorite places okay?” You said and he nodded. You both stood and walked back into the house, another shiver going down your spine as you tucked your locket back into your shirt.

It only took you a week to realize that Enji Todoroki had never spent a day in his life with his son. While Shoto’s room was littered with sports equipment, soccer balls, baseball bats, tense rackets, all unused.

Shoto liked the library, he liked to read and draw, he wasn’t a hard kid to look after, you would read with him, or fill in coloring books at his request, and often the two of you would walk around the field talk about the books he’d read.

Sometimes Shoto would ask to see your locket, and you’d show it to him and you’d talk about your mothers together.

“Is there a picture inside the locket?” he asked and you winced, instinctually closing your fist around the silver heart.

“No,” you lied, “the latch is broken so it doesn’t open,” you said. He nodded and dropped the subject. You tucked the locket back inside your shirt and went on with the game of chess you were playing, losing badly to Shoto.

He was a good kid, and he opened up to you easily, which only solidified in your mind that Enji had never once tried to understand him but you weren’t getting paid to play family therapist.

While taking care of Shoto was easy, living in the manner was anything but. The house was old and made a lot of creaking settling noises that never failed to make you jump. The rooms were dimly lit and furnished with dark wood making the rooms feel smaller than they where, making you clostrophobic. Even though you had been living here for over a month now the lay out of the house still perplexed you sometimes, leading to geting lost in rooms you’d never seen before and would never see again.

The rooms of the Elder Todorokis, Shoto’s brothers and sisters, always remained locked, not that you had ever tried to open any of those doors, the strage chill that seemed to emanate from that room was always enough to keep you away.

All of that was annoying, chilling even, knowing what you knew. But none of it was unbearable, but the ghosts. The ghosts made you want to leave.

Sometimes you would wake up with a transparent blue woman looming over you and you had to clap your hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. She left as soon as you saw here, leaving you shaking.

“I am in Todoroki manor,” you started shakily, touching a hand to the top of your head. “I’m in my bed, I’m in my body,” you reminded yourself before collapsing back to the bed

No one else seemed to be able to see the man in the kitchen or the apparitions that plaied out side. So you kept quiet, and didn’t say anything.

Some nights how ever, they kept you up. You would sit shaking in your bed, one hand firmly around your locket the other over your mouth while widows slammed open and things toppled from shelves. While most of the ghosts in the house seemed docile there was at least one who wasn’t. This villant ghost never showed themself, until one night.

It was pitch black when you returned home. You had been permitted to Take Shoto out of the house and the two of you had gone to a movie.

He tieredly rubbed his eyes as you helped him out of his jacket.

“Ready for bed?” you asked and he nodded. He took your hand and slowly you both made your way up the stairs. There was a loud cracking sound and before you saw the heavy oak banister crack.

You frose in place. Not now, you silently pleaded, not in front of someone else, you couldn’t contain your fear and still play it off as normal. You could smell smoke.

Shoto suddenly gripped your hand tighter. “We should run,” he said, could he possibly see what you were seeing?

Before you could ask him anything, the painting on the wall to your left fell to the floor with a crash, blood oozing out of the eyes of the people inside, Shoto screamed, and without thinking you lifted him in your arms and took off running. His short nails dug into your shoulders as he clung to you. You saw a door cracked open and without thinking you burst into the room slamming the door closed behind the two of you and slumping to the floor, Shoto in your lap your back to the heavy wood. You took a look around assessing your surroundings and saw you were in Shoto’s neat and tidy room.

There was another loud crash and you felt Shoto go stiff in your arms frozen in fear and suddenly there was only one thing you could think and that was oh god I have to protect this child I have to protect this poor poor child. You lifted him easily in his arms and marched to his bed, then you firmly removed him from your shirt and place him down.

“Hide under the covers, I’ll be right back okay?” you ordered, he looked terrified, he didn’t say anything just crawled under the covers. You spun around on your heel and headed to the door, picking up his toy bat as you went. Sure it was a toy but damn if you weren’t going to swing it hard enough to cause some real damage. And you barrage into the darkened hallway.

At first, there was a disturbing quiet, just the labored sound of your breathing. “Don’t play coy now you son of a bitch,” you hissed under your breath. There was a groan and you whipped around seeing your ghost for the first time.

The first time you’d seen a ghost, and known it was a ghost, was when you were seven. You were five or six. You were in a park sat on the swingset trying to learn how to swing without needing to be pushed like the big kids did when you saw an old woman who had neither arms nor legs. Most ghosts were like that, half-formed, incomplete as if they had lost more than just their lives.

Not this one, however. You could see him perfectly from the tip of his spikey white hair down all the way to the clasps on his boots. He looked surprisingly like Natsuo, with white spikey hair, a lanky body, and angry eyes. Toya, he had called his dead brother. Toya was right in front of you now.

This revelation paused you for only a moment before you glaired at the spectator.

“Can you-” he began to speak but you cut him off by swinging the bat through his middle section, it passed through him harmlessly but you didn’t care you moved to hit him again.

“Stop,” he growled and caught you by the thought, you gasped feeling his cold skin touch your throat, then his fingers clamped down choking you. He looked stunned, not that you really cared about whatever revelation this bastard was going through if he could touch you that means you should be able to touch him. You swung the bat again this time hitting his wrist knocking his hand off your throat, you stagged back and sneered at the ghost your heart pounding in your chest so loud you wondered if he could hear it.

He, Toya, Looked at his hand flexing his fingers, then at you, then vanished. You whirled looking for where he would pop up next, but he didn’t appear. You rushed back into Shoto’s room coking him out of the covers and holding him while he sobbed. You might have cried a little too, it was hard to tell.

In the morning there would be bruises of fingers on your neck.

#dabi x reader #dabi bnha #bnha dabi #mha dabi #imagine dabi #toya todoroki #toya todoroki x reader #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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writes-eat-sleep-repeat · 4 years

Text

TRICKS FOR TREATS

Paring: spooky x black!reader

Requested: No

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings : 18+, smut, sex, oral sex (girl receiving)

Summary: How Oscar spent his Halloween before it was interrupted by Cesar.

“Oh come on it’s Halloween” you said.

“No” your boyfriend protested

“Pleaseeeeee” you begged

“It’s not safe, you know that” Oscar answered.

“We aren’t trick or treating pendejo, were going to a party” you continued

“Please, please, please, please” you badgered

“Fine (Y/N), you can be so annoying” he said with a sigh Drawing a deep puff from his joint finishing it and getting up. You knew sooner or later whatever he was smoking would mellow his out enough to appease you.

You had been trying to convince your boyfriend for a week to come to the Halloween party your best friend was throwing at her place. It was your first Halloween since Oscar was home and you wanted to spend it with him. Sitting on the porch of the santos hangout spot, otherwise known as oscars place you stared out onto the lawn where Oscar had moved to sit on a crate and started doing bicep curls. You started thinking about what it was like before he had gotten locked up. How he and your friends would all pile up into your mothers house on Halloween to eat candy, pizza and watch scary movies knowing freeridge would be far to dangerous to tread the streets on foot seeking the booty of candy. A sadness came over you knowing all these years had passed and Cesar and his friends had to take up the same tradition as a way of avoiding their own deaths on what should be a fun holiday.

“BEEEEPPP” you were snapped out of your thoughts by a car horn. Your grey eyes meeting oscars intense brown ones you had not realizing at some point Oscar had stopped working out and had began staring at you quizzically. “BEEP, BEEP, BEEP” the person in the car honked three more times causing you to look in the direction the noise had come from. It was Mia. Your best friend. You and oscars oldest friend as well, dating all the way back to kindergarten. “Hey” she yelled out the passenger side window. “You, coming or not” she continued. Thats the plan you thought in your head. You held up one finger towards her signaling for her to give you a minute. As you ran inside to grab your purse and began to walk towards the car you stopped when you heard Oscar behind you clearing his throat. You turned to give him a peck on the lips to let him know you weren’t upset about his ‘annoying’ comment he made earlier. You were so used to not having him around it had become weird for you to remember to say goodbye or even greet him at times.

While you were pulling back up to head to the car his long fingers wove their way to the back of your neck gripping your the tight coils at the base of your neck that had become loose from bun piled on top of your head, as he pulled you back down into a more passionate kiss. First with just your lips slightly open then coming deeper as your tongues began weaving around each other, in an intricate pattern, slowing and intoxicating it wasn’t long before your knees felt slightly weakened and Mia began blowing her horn again and you heard the other santos cheering the leader on making ooh and aww sounds. Finding enough strength you pulled back. With one final peck on his lips “see you later?” You asked. Oscar answering with a slight nod, picking the weight back up to return to his workout. “Did you guys need a room? Are you good on oxygen?” Mia teased as you settled into the passenger side of the car. “Shut up” was all you could manage to let out while lightly shoving her shoulder closes to you.

To be honest your brain couldn’t process anything other than the kiss you had just been blessed with. After four years of Oscar being locked up you had all but turned your sex drive off as a coping mechanism, you two were best friends who had started dating and you know he didn't ask you to wait for him for eight years, he would never ask you to put your life on hold like that. And you suspected when he stopped responding to the letters you would send three years in he was hoping you would forget about him and move on. It’s not like you didn’t try. But, it proved to be more difficult than you anticipated. No one wanted to mess with spooky’s girl, whether he was around or locked up. No one wanted those problems. Becoming content with everyone treating you like a pariah until you graduated and finally left freeridge and started life anew. You definitely did not expect Oscar to get out early or to still even want to be with you, but being around Oscar as best friends had been second nature for so long, it was the one thing you felt secure in, you both just fell back into your old routines. Some new routines had been implemented as well. In the bedroom, the shower, the kitchen- “(Y/N), hello” Mia bought you out of your thoughts. “Red or Black” she was asking holding up a pair of bunny ears. “I’m wearing red, you know that’s oscars favorite color” you responded. “And Oscar is okay with you being a playboy bunny?” She asked, one curious eyebrow raised. “Well.. umm, we didn’t necessarily discuss costume selections” your own eyebrows furrowing. He wouldn’t have an issue with your costume you thought to yourself. Why would he, besides you were going to the party together. Why would he. “okay, black it is”she finalized. You felt your phone vibrate and looked down to see a message from Oscar reading:

“Bunny ears?”

Confused you lifted you had and began looking around only to see him walking towards you with his right hand man sad eyes following closely behind. He wore a grey t-shirt and black shorts, the bottom reaching just the top of his long socks. Black was your favorite color on him. But you couldn’t deny grey did just as much justice on his six foot, one inch built frame. “Why?” You asked. “Sad eyes, wanted a mask for the party” he said in a matter of fact tone. “How?” You continued. “He texted Mia, I wasn’t following you...Yet” he mocked. You responded with an eye roll. Knowing he disliked them and found them somewhat disrespectful. To your eye roll you notice him squint his eyes deviously. “We are gonna go look at masks” Mia said while simultaneously grabbing sad eyes hand pulling him with her. You had all but forgot Mia and him had a little fling a while ago along the lines of friends-with- benefits. To bad they never took it seriously they were so cute together.

You felt a sting on your right butt check causing you to yelp drawing you out of your thoughts to see the perpetrator. It was none other than your boyfriend looking of into space hands clasped behind his back as if he did nothing. “Why? You questioned. Rubbing the sore spot. Collapsing the space between you he bent down to look directly in you eye before whispering in your ear “ I don’t like when you roll your eyes at me, you do something I don’t like, i do something you don’t like” he vowed. Moving back to look in your eyes “Who says I didn’t like it?” You challenged. Cause it his own eyes to open just slightly before he regained control. He then looked past your shoulder and with a Smirk grabbed you hand dragging you to a small dark room within the store. Above the doorway there was a neon green flashing light that read ADULT. Once in the room he began browsing, there was everything Adult related here porn, Toys, Whips, Cuffs, etc.

Oscar looked at a few movie covers, while you looked at him as you were still standing in the doorway, walking in a circle scanning the room he stopped in front of the toys section and motioned with a nod for you to join him. You walked over, looking from the toys to him and asked “why are we here”. “ I want to buy you something” he said, his smirk returning full force. “Well,... I don’t need a vibrator, I have like five at home” you confirmed. You couldn’t see clearly in the dark room, so it was hard to gauge his reaction. “Five??” He questioned, sounding more shocked than anything else. “Oh, please. You were locked up for four years, you wanna lie and say you didn’t masturbate not even once?” You asked defending yourself. With a small shrug of his shoulders, he continued to browse the toy selection. “What do you masturbate to?” He asked after about five minutes of silence. “Huh” you said. “You heard my question” he said. “What?” You answered with raised eyebrows. “I wanna know who you think about” he stated. “Would you look at that, there is no way that can fit inside anyone” you tried changing the subject while eyeing a 13 inch toy. “Your deflecting” he continued. “I’m sorry what was the question.” You asked. “WHO. DO. YOU.THINK. ABOUT. WHEN. YOU. USE. YOUR. TOYS.” he repeated taking a step closer to you with each word, his voice becoming more boisterous with each one. At this point he had you pinned between an bookshelf erotic fiction next to the shelves of toys and his body. “Oh, that was the question” you said.

Him sighing in response. “Ummm, why does it matter?” You asked.”that wasn’t an answer” he said his gaze becoming more intense with every minute that passed. “Well, fine then, you go first” you challenged. “You” he said.”What?”you asked quizzically. “I think about you” he continued. “Every time?” You still questioned. “Yes”he answered “Oscar we sleep together, why would you masturbate to me” you answered baffled by his answer. His current eye roll, coupled with a long sigh indicated he wasn’t going to answer your question and he was becoming agitated with your delayed answer. “Mines is you too”you answered half confident. With dead eyes he responded “your lying”.“Fine, its weird though and you have to promise not to laugh”you gave in. “Most of the time IT IS you, but when it not it’s.... Eric Northman” you whispered the last part. “Who?” He asked. “He’s a vampire from a show” you responded exhausted with the conversation. He began laughing which caused a heat to rise to the cheeks of your dark skin. “Great, now can i be done embarrassing myself” you tried to move away but he only came in closer.

This time the intensity of his stare stirred up a heat in you that only he can. The room being so small and dark making everything seem so much more intimate. You were sure he would kiss your lips but he turned your head slightly pressing tiny pecks from right below your ear to your neck. “How are we gonna rectify this problem” he said with his kisses now being dragged across your collar bone. He knew that was your spot and you two hadn’t been together for a couple days due to him being on runs for the past few nights. You were both and edge and in need of immediate release. “Don’t leave me by myself so much” you answered breathlessly. “No, No I don’t mind you touching yourself, i just cant have you thinking of anyone else, because this- he dragged his hand up your thigh resting rubbing his thumb back and forth- is mines” he finished. You were basically becoming undone before him and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. “Right?” He continued. “Yes” you dozily responded.

He was still trailing light kisses along the base of your neck you so you barely noticed him reaching for something behind you on the shelf. “This is how you're gonna make it up to me” he smirked. Your eyes flutter open to see him holding a small rectangle box reading; vibrating Panties. Remote controlled. “What’s that for? You asked. “Your redemption” he answered giving you his fifty kilowatt smile, dimple included. “Okay for...after the party?”. It still wasn’t making much sense to you. “Nope, for the party” he responded triumphant. “Ummm, yeah no. I’m not and I repeat NOT wearing that to the party tonight” you said. “You’d think someone who fantasizes about the undead would be more adventurous”he taunted you along. “Adventurous equals risk which equals potential reward, what do i get out of this exactly?” You challenged him. you could see him weighing your words in his mind. “Hmmm, your right.... one week.” He said “one week?”you raised a curious eyebrow. “One week with me, uninterrupted. No Gang anything, no cuchillious, just you me and whenever you want to go ” he wagered. Since Oscar has been home you have never had him to yourself for an extended period of time, he’s always either doing something for cuchilloos or meeting with her. Damn if you think about it she sees him more than you do. “What’s the catch? You wearily ask. “Nothing, you just wear this tonight. -ummm, OK ( you began to answer )- but, you cant cum, no matter what” he finished. His stance as always, cool under pressure; but in his eyes he had a look that could rival the devil. And there they are, the strings magically attaching themselves, you thought. “So, the only challenge on my part is not to orgasm?” You nervously laughed.

Both you and Oscar knew how sensitive you were in that particular area. “Your probably right, it maybe to much for you, we both know how sensitive you are down there” his words confirming your earlier thoughts. He also knew you were competitive and he had you right where he wanted you. “What’s the cut off time”you asked. “Let’s call it midnight” he said. Finalizing the deal with a handshake you two made your way out of the room and to the cashier to make his purchase. “Where have you guys been, we’ve been looking for you; oh did Oscar Find a mask” Mia exclaimed right as Oscar took the bag from the boy behind the counter. “We were looking around and yeah he found something” you answered. You four hurried out the store to say your goodbyes Oscar handing you the bag with your gift as the two santos headed on their own way as you and Mia went on your way, with her first dropping you at your apartment to get ready for the party.

Sanding in front of the wall length mirror in your room. You stood staring at yourself wide, eyed and excited for what the night had to offer. You had been curious about the testing the bullet that came with the package to see how strong it maybe. To potentially try to prepare yourself for what lies ahead. When you went to look in the box you realized the remote was missing. Slightly to your disappointment, however the overall feeling you had was relief. You instantly text Oscar to let him know his plan wasn’t going to work for tonight.

‘Hey’

‘Sup, mama’

‘The remote was missing from the box. So no playtime tonight :(‘

‘Oh no’ he responded

‘Yeah maybe next time, too bad i as really looking forward to that week. Which I should still get because the remote missing isn’t my fault’ you smiled triumphantly at your phone

‘It’s cool, i just found it in my back pocket. Couldn’t have you testing it out without me ;). You want that week bad huh? Earn it’

His last text wiping the smile clean off your face.

‘See you in a bit mama’s” he finished.

Looking at your phone he was right it was already almost 7 and the party started at 8. But since you were helping Mia host she told you to get there around 7:40 meaning Oscar would be here in a half and hour. Putting on your ‘gift’ first you couldn’t help but notice the precise nature of the bullet that nestle right into your intimate folds the head which is usually the most powerful siting right on your bundle of nerves. You finished putting on your costume, fishnets, bustier, and tiny shorts covering just enough of your plump backside to not make Oscar too angry but still short enough to make him sweat a little. As your were putting on your three inch heels trying to stay as close to playboy tradition as possible you heard oscars impala beeping for you outside. You grabbed your wristlet, the bag of candy you had bought and headed out to his car. At the halfway point between your house and the car you an instant powerful vibration, more than any of the toys you owned overtake you causing you to crumple forward. Your neighbor who was walking her dog noticed and began calling your name in response. Oscar turned off the remote just as quickly as he turned it on. Allowing you to catch your breath enough to answer her.

“Misses Harper, hi I’m fine, just.... cramps” you lied. she nodded an okay and turned back to her task at hand while you climbed into the passenger side of the red car. “You okay mamas, Oscar asked with a smile. “ You asshole. You couldn’t wait for me to at least get in the car” you scolded. “This car?” He asked. “No the other car-” your snarky response being cut off buy him turning on the remote again. Causing you to lean back trying to control the lower half of your body. Oscar knew what game he was playing only allowing the lowest vibration as to not end the competition too early. He coupled the vibration with rubbing his long skilled fingers up and down your fishnet covered thigh making sure to hit the inside portion of your thigh with every sweep. By the time you got to the party you were dry heaving and Oscar was just getting warmed up. He turned off the remote giving time to fully compose yourself before heading into the house. Himself finding his few friends from the gang to hang with.

Once the party was in full swing you had been dancing, socializing ,drinking along with everyone else and all but forgotten you even had the vibrating panties on until you were in the middle of a taking a shot with Mia and felt that powerful vibration come right out nowhere causing you to almost choke on the liquor and drop the plastic shot cup. Looking around you spotted Oscar of the other side of the room with sad eyes and two other santos members. He wasn’t even looking in your direction, but must have felt you staring at him because he turned to you and offered a simple wink before Turing back to his conversation. You didn't want to walk over there to him and you didn't trust yourself to go into any room alone because you were sure you would initiate your own release.

You decided to head to the middle of the dance floor and deflect some of your energy to that. Mia and a couple other friends going you. With every song you danced to Oscar would increase the level of the vibration and by the fifth song you were about to let go right there in the middle if everyone. You knew he was smirking but you would not give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction, not even once. You make your way to the back deck where there was less people hoping the cool air from the night would offer your head some clarity. You closed you eyes leaning against the rail for support releasing silent whimpers. You heard people shuffling off of the deck. Then you felt level six.

This might be it. At this point you were seeing white dots behind you eyelids. Then you felt someone press up against you, well something. Already knowing who it was before you even opened your eyes. He started planting soft kisses along the side of your neck along with smoothing one hand across the length of of your stomach and breast while the other up and down the inside o your thigh. In a world of bliss you let your head fall back allowing Oscar further access to your neck, chest heaving heavily, while you soaked in the feeling ready to give in when the vibrations stopped. You turned around glaring at Oscar who had that smile on. “Why?” You asked glaring at him. “Nights not over babe” he laughed. As you rolled your eyes in frustration. His smile was replaced with a hard line, him squinting his eyes at you and the vibration picked up where it left of causing you to collapse forward holding onto him for support. Bringing you right back to where you left, he bean to kiss you. Passionately raw and chaotic on your end. Controlled on his end as he gripped your neck with one hand from behind guiding you, he raised the level one more time, and you were sure this would be it. And just as you were there he turned it off. Leaving an absent of bliss and in its wake trailing disappointment and need.

How is this not affecting him,“Stop”you demanded. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”he questioned. “No” you said under your breath. “You lying to me again” he raised his eyebrows. “Oscar” you began defending yourself, but was once again cut off by him Turning the bullet on again. He continued this vicious cycle for what felt like eternity but was only ten minutes, stopping only when Mia came walking over towards you guys. “Hey, you guys could use the bedroom you know” she teased. You being to spent from Oscar edging you could only offer a small smile to your friend, no verbal response. “Or are yo Already finished” she asked. No, you thought to yourself, your dick of a boyfriend wont let you finished. Hmmm Dick. You giggled. Oscar looked Down at you confused before Turning to your oldest friend “actually we were about to go” he confirmed. “Cool, cool, thanks for coming” she finalized eyeing you as you offered her a wave in return. You walked off the deck and through the party Oscar holding you around the waist carrying you to the door. Who knew just almost getting an orgasim could be so exhausting.

You two walked like this all the way to the end of the block where his car was parked. As You went to get in the passages side “Backseat” was all he said. Moving the seat to the front an sliding into the back you barely sat down before Oscar grabbed you up to straddle him. So i was affecting him you wore a smirk of your own. Even with the bullet in your folds you could feel he was packing wood. Probably just as much on the brink of exploding as you were. He turned the remote back onto level one, just enough to keep you excited. You were over this and he had to pay for what he did to you back there whether you win this thing or not. So you took the lead. This time kissing his neck staring from the base of he Santos cross he had on his neck. Tracing kisses all the way to him teardrop tattoo purposely avoiding his lips. You could feel him growing with every kiss you planted.

He turned the remote up; level two. You turned over, so your plum backside sat on his lap, your back to his chest, taking his hands you carefully guided them over your perky double D breast. Him, anxiously peeling away the fabric that restricted them, until they were free and he began kneading them with his hand paying particular attention you your nipples. While he did this you took your time grinding down onto him vocalizing your pleasure, just how he likes it, a mixture of moans and whimpers. Feeling him now fully hard stretching the front of the khaki shorts he wore. When he couldn’t take it anymore he flipped you back over to straddle him again, increasing the level of vibration “I know what your doing” he said. “Good” you responded and continued grinding down on him. He grabbed you with both hands on either side of your face into a fiery kiss, both of you trying to nibble each other’s lips, your tongues doing their own dance. You pulled back and saw it i his eyes. Lust, it must have been in yours as well because he switched gears forgetting the remote entirely he took your nipples into his mouth one by one causing you to through your head back against the front seat letting out a loud moan, the sound causing his dick to twitch in his pants.

You leaned back forward going in to kiss his neck some more. Him looking for his wallet undoubtedly to get a condom. When you heard his phone vibrate once, then again him slowing down his kisses to look at it. You figured it was something santos related and pushed the phone down to the seat out of his line of sight “not now” you mumbled into his neck. “It’s Cesar” he responded. “Why? Cesar is at the shut in” you replied. “No he’s at Brentwood.” He clarified. Leaning back with a loud sigh to express your frustration you asked “Why is he in Brentwood?”. “I don’t know, but something happened. We gotta go mama”he replied. “Is he shot?” You asked

“No” he said

“Is he in danger of dying?” You continued

“I don’t know” he responded

“So can it wait, because I don’t think i can”

He looked at you exhaustedly before lifting you off his lap to get into the drivers seat. “It will be fifteen minutes tops, don’t worry mama you’ll get your vitamin D” he laughed. You meanwhile scurrying to fix your top back and move up to the passenger side. “I might die from a deficiency”you pouted in his direction. “You cant die from a vitamin D deficiency” he said winking while smiling in your direction showing that damn dimple. You crossing your arm across your chest and your legs in response. “What exactly is you plan here” you asked, attitude on full blast as he approached Brentwood. “Handle the situation” was the response you got. You rolling your eyes towards the window. “ i know you rolled your eyes” he said pulling up to what you guess was the kids house.

Before jumping out the car. He turned the bullet back on and up to level four. Leaving you whimpering, squeezing your knee’s together trying to combat the feeling that was overcoming you. You felt the knot in your stomach as you began grinding down on the bullet, eyes closed and just as you were there the vibrations stoped. Opening your eyes you saw the shadow of Oscar leaning against the car waiting for what you guess was Cesar and his friends as they walked out of a house bags full of candy. You got out of the passenger seat glaring at Oscar as you let Cesar, Ruby and Olivia into the back seat, the other two friends opting to take a Lyft. Oscar said nothing as he got in the drivers seat and blasted his music, no doubt to hide the sound of the vibrating bullet which he had turned on again. The ride home was quick but torturous . As you let off two of the three teenagers at ruby’s house. Bringing Cesar to the his own home. As you begin to walk towards the house behind Cesar, it for once being free of roaming santos. “Nights not over mamas” Oscar said watching you while he leaned against the top of the car. “Oscar I am physically done” you answered. “Get in” was all he said.

You dragged one Heavy foot after another until you climbed back into the red impala. He drove to a lookout point over the Brentwood . A somewhat woodsy area at the edge where you could see the whole city, the lights twinkling like a reflection of the night sky. I was a breathtaking sight and not many people knew about it you hadn’t even known about it until Oscar took you there a couple days after he had gotten out. Oscar put the car in park and went to lean on the hood. You following his actions. As you came around he turned towards you lifting you up and placing you gently on the hood. Kissing you again, picking up right where you left off. Tongues thrashing against each other, you grabbing oscars biceps, him expertly kneading your breast in his hands. Pushing you back as he hooks his hands into you shorts and the panties waiting for you to lift your body so he can pull them down. Once they are off he has full view of you and what you guess was a glistening mess.

He pushed you further up onto the hood of the car, bringing feet up until your calf and thigh touched. Holding you still with his strong arms he wasted no time kissing your thighs moving lower and lower alternating slowly and agonizingly, moving from one thigh to the other he would slightly blow on your sensitive bud causing you to squirm under his expert touch. Then he finally, began paying some attention to your most sensitive part he went into over drive, quickly flicking it to get momentum, then weaving his toughest between your wet folds you were in bliss. At some point between his long licks from the bottom to the top while he circled your bud with his tongue and him sucking while gliding his mouth up and down, that knot retuned causing your thighs to vibrate viciously. “I’m...I’m gonna... cu...cumming” was all you could say as all that pent up sexual tension erupted deep inside of you sending spikes of pleasure radiating through you entire body leaving a withering whimpering mess on the hood of the red impala as Oscar mercilessly continued sucking and flicking. You trying to push his head away to end the onslaught.

He moved up grabbing you by the neck with one hand to bring you towards into a kiss, you being further turned on by your own taste. He dragged you down the hood until your ass rested right on the edge wasting no time he drove the full length himself into you full force leaving you gasping for air as he filled you slamming his lower body to yours again and again. Nibbling on you neck, you relished in this, you waited so long all day. Hell all week you thought . His pace began to quicken and you knew he was almost about to cum. He expertly adjusted the angle you were leaning at so the head of his mandhood brushed right against your G-Spot with every stoke. Within the next couple of minutes your legs began to shake again and you felt that knot again. “Cum for me baby” he whispered into your ear and that was your undoing, his own not following far behind. You leaned back on the hood of the car completely drained as he leaned forward resting his head on your chest, both of you trying to catch your breath. After about ten minutes you got up putting your shorts back on minus the panties, heading into the car to go home.

Oscar following your actions looked at the dashboard “its 12:30” he say in a matter of fact way. “I guess that means I won” you smiled at him. Knowing he let you win. “Don’t worry I know a couple of things we could do for one uninterrupted week” you said resting you hand on his upper thigh. Shaking his head in amusement he just smiled at you dimple and all.

#spooky diaz #oscar spooky diaz #omb imagine #spooky x reader #spooky #on my block #julio macias #oscar

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tanoraqui · 4 years

Note

Grave dirt baby... 🥺✨

me, procrastinating my actual fic? no... GRAVE DIRT BABY A-YUAN

HEY TUMBLR FUCKED UP ALL MY BULLET POINTS ON THIS THE SECOND I HIT POST BUT IT’S 4AM SO I’M LEAVING IT UP ANYWAY. STUPID GODDAMN WEBSITE.

Wei Wuxian has been in the Burial Mounds for like 2.5 months out of what he doesn’t yet know will be about 3. He’s not even sure he’s going to survive yet. But he has managed to manifest an evil sword - the evil sword - out of the aether/ambient resentful energy/an attunement set with an unwise touch in the belly of an evil turtle

and he does know that he’s not going to survive if he doesn’t get the power of the Burial Mounds under some sort of control

so he cuts his arm and with blood running down the blade, draws something adjacent to the first demon-summoning flag but as an array in the dirt. He stands in the middle and - keep in mind that he more or less hasn’t slept in 2.5 months - plunges the sword into the center, still coated in his blood, and draws in all the resentful energy of the Burial Mounds

was it supposed to go into the sword? Into himself? Into just the single 4ft diameter array area, a column of bound death? who knows, not Wei Wuxian! it’s pure gut instinct

u know what else works on gut instinct, thought? Fairy tales.

And in a fairy tale, why, clay of the earth plus iron enough for a blade plus still-warm blood to show the way...

There’s an implosion and Wei Wuxian is standing - somehow still standing - in a small crater where the array used to be, and his evil sword is plunged into the belly of a baby

He yanks it out in horrified reflex, and realizes a moment later that the baby seems unfazed by this. If there was even a wound, it closes before his eyes, and the glimpse he had showed something more bloody clay than flesh beneath the skin

the iron sword crumbles as he pulls it away, as though rusted a thousand years. the baby turns its head from the iron shavings that falls on it, but then reaches up for Wei Wuxian with a cheerfully demanding cry

he picks it up, of course. (he’d think he was hallucinating if he wasn’t absolutely and utterly aware that he’s not)

it is, as far as he can tell, with physical and spiritual resentful inspection, an absolutely normal baby

oh, except when he looks really closely. Then he can sense the neutron star–dense knot of resentful energy where a golden core might (but will definitely not have room to) form. Also, it can command the dead, and when he holds it, so can he. He’s not sure if it’s a proximity-based power share or if he’s passing his desires through the baby, but even Wei Wuxian, at about 3 months with no food save the rage of the dead and no rest save the promise of final release, has to stop investigating at some point. He has things to do!

specifically, he has Wens to kill

so instead of the iconic shot of the dark flautist in the moonlight, we get the dark, uh...man singing a very spooky lullaby to his baby in the moonlight. It is still deeply creepy. It’s a making-it-up-as-he-goes tune based on a Yunmengi lullaby that he certainly learned from neither of his foster parents, and the lyrics are along the lines of, “let them remember what they did, sweet little potato, let them remember why they’re dying”

yeah he’s been calling this child “Little Potato” for 2 weeks

why

is that not how you name a child

sometimes when he’s more annoyed at it, he calls it “Little Radish”, or even less appetizing root vegetables

by the time he walks in, the baby is asleep in his arms and he’s not singing anymore, just letting the dead do his will. This is what Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji see. The subsequent conversation, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu at their feet, goes like this:

LWJ: Wei Ying. You have a baby.

WWX: Oh, uh...

PLAY DUMB!

WWX: What baby?

NOT THAT DUMB!

WWX: Oh, this baby! Haha yeah. I...found it.

JC: What the fuck

WWX: Yeah, weird, right? Right near the, uh...

LWJ: They said you were in the Burial Mounds

WWX: Yyyyup. Yes that is. I found this baby by the side of the road after I walked out of the Burial Mounds.

JC, briefly too morbidly fascinated to think about either the demonic cultivation they just watched or the fact that he wants to hug his brother like he’s never wanted to hug another being in his life: What did you name it?

WWX: ....

JC, desire to hug intensifying together with exasperation: oh my god

Sometime in the next couple days - after sleeping a bit, maybe - it occurs to Wei Wuxian that his raw instincts were right and things will go very badly for little A-Yuan (his siblings insisted he name it) if anyone finds out that he’s a not-yet-walking, not-yet-talking little neuron star of resentful energy. So he takes the iron shavings that are all that remain of the Stygian Turtle Sword and forges them into a Tiger-shaped Seal. He also carves a bamboo flute, like he’d been thinking about before the whole...baby thing. He loudly proclaims both to be dark and terrible weapons

(it really is helpful. The sword was...kind of A-Yuan’s other parent, after all, in addition to their third partner, the Burial Mounds. Chenqing gives him finer control of whatever stray resentful energy he chooses to pick up, and the Stygian Seal lets him channel A-Yuan’s power at need, even when not touching him. Which is good - a battlefield is no place for a baby)

even if that baby thinks ghosts and ghouls exist to pick him up and rock him or toss him around (babies like to be tossed)

Wei Wuxian puts so many goddamn spirit-repelling charms on that child, and lets it be marked down to the paranoia of a survivor

using whatever resentful energy he picks up is generally more effective, actually. Less strong, but it quickly becomes clear that the way this works does, in fact, involve Wei Wuxian communicating his desires through A-Yuan, or at least A-Yuan has to put up with the loan of power. There’s nothing quite like abruptly losing control of a field of corpses because the baby got abruptly uncooperative with anything that wasn’t barfing

the baby does eat, for the record. As far as Wei Wuxian can tell, he doesn’t actually need to, but once WWX fed him once, when they first left the Mounds, he wanted it all the time

he still takes A-Yuan with him when he can. That is the paranoia of a survivor. A-Yuan is...

“A battlefield is no place for a baby, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says gently, as he sets out from Carp Tower after another stolen visit, another failed attempt to convince Jin Guangshan off his ass. “And you are...so busy. LanlingJin takes in orphans, you know...”

“A-Yuan...he’s my blood,” Wei Wuxian says quietly. He’s never been good at lying to his shijie

Whatwherewhenhowwho, he’d see on her face if he was looking at it. But he isn’t. It’s not shame, though, she can see (it really never is, with Wei Wuxian). Fear of disappointing her, slight resignation...but mostly acceptance. Determination. Something almost like contentment.

(When Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangj first took him back to whatever resembled a base camp - somewhere in Qinghe, probably, or maybe Lanling - he had to let a trained healer look at A-Yuan, physical and spiritual examination, and he held his breath and calculated how many people he’d have to kill to get out of here, how fast he’d have to move to not hurt his brother or any particular friends; thought, oh, he’s mine, in a way he hadn’t before - as a child, a son, not just a very strange weapon -

“He’s quite healthy,” said the doctor, mildly surprised, bouncing A-Yuan on one knee. A-Yuan gurgled happily. “About three months old?”

the longer Wei Wuxian took to answer, the more disapproving her stare got. But that did make sense)

Then all else can be dealt with later. “You should still leave him here,” Jiang Yanli says firmly. “You need to look after yourself and A-Cheng out there. I can look after A-Yuan.”

It takes a bit under two years to win back the lost and burnt territories, scour the Wens out of every crevice, corner Wen Ruohan in his precious Nightless City and bring it tumbling down. Nobody will know the timing but A-Yuan sleeps through the final battle, smiling at dreams that would make a grown man weep in horror. Somewhere, his father is playing a lullaby

About a week later, Jiang Cheng stalks into Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, which he shares with A-Yuan. One of the first rooms rebuilt in the new Lotus Pier. A-Yuan is there, too, playing with blocks while Wei Wuxian idly drafts talismans

“A-jie said the kid is yours,” he says, crossed arms. “Like, yours-yours. When the fuck did you do that?”

(Wei Wuxian has thought about this, by now; gone over the pros and cons of every possibility, the politics and potentials and maybe even the giddy possibility of telling something like the truth)

(the guiding principle is: he has no interest in drawing on the “Stygian Tiger Seal” ever again. The Sunshot Campaign is over. His loved ones are safe, and he sees no reason why they shouldn’t all live long, happy, normal lives)

(also/though, he will burn Jin Sect, Carp Tower, and all of Lanling to the ground before the new Chief Cultivator should touch his son)

“In Caiyi,” he lies. “Right before I got kicked out. I, uh, snuck out a lot more often than you noticed.”

His brother squints at him suspiciously. But Wei Wuxian can also watch him do the math in his head and reluctantly admit that it works.

“So are you claiming him or what?” he challenges. “’Wei Yuan’? You have a courtesy name - wait, no, you are not naming that kid again. You’re going to make his courtesy name be Carrothead or something.”

“Should I let you pick it, oh wise and noble shidi - no, shushu?!” Wei Wuxian teases, as A-Yuan gets tired of his blocks and starts climbing up him like a jungle gym

Jiang Cheng sighs like the north wind - gusting long and hard, with just the faintest chill to suggest that the skies will be weeping, soon

But...

Despite some evidence to the contrary, Wei Wuxian is generally fully aware of when he’s about to cross a line that cannot be backtracked over. So he meets Wen Qing in the city, and before going to Lanling, he nips into Lotus Pier and picks up A-Yuan

He might leave A-Yuan with Wen Qing in the city when he goes to Glamour Hall, but Qiongqi Pass happens with a toddler watching silently from Wei Wuxian’s hip. Does Wei Wuxian tell him to look away, bury his face in baba’s shirt, or does he not bother, knowing the sort of song that makes up A-Yuan’s sweet dreams?

The Wens become the second through 51st or so people who learn what A-Yuan is. Wei Wuxian briefly considers trying to hide it, but, honestly, there are dead things everywhere on the Burial Mounds, and despite his genuine efforts, he cannot convince A-Yuan that a fierce corpse is anything but the ideal patty-cake companion. (They’ll play with him for hours! It’s a two-nearly-three-year-old’s dream!)

(he doesn’t want to convince him, not really. The last thing he wants to do ever is give A-Yuan anything to be scared of)

nor could he possibly wish that A-Yuan not be...obviously hale and hearty, running rosy-cheeked and strong around these hills of death that slowly seep the energy from any humans, animals, or even sturdy root crops

“So, uh, this is actually my demon baby,” said Wei Wuxian as they all settled in

“this day has been so weird already, this might as well goddamn happen”, said the Wens collectively

“You created a living child out of dead earth, so I’m going to take that as a yes that you can bring my brother back,” said Wen Qing specifically

“...fuck. I mean, yes. I mean - fuck,” said Wei Wuxian. “I- of course I will.”

(it doesn’t work like that, though)

The 52nd person to find out what A-Yuan is is Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian very much does not tell him. They have a pleasant toy-shopping trip and lunch in town, and then the alarm talisman goes off and Wei Wuxian grabs A-Yuan and Lan Wangji tugs them both onto Bichen and when they arrive, Wen Ning is roaring. Lan Wangji knows what’s important; he takes A-Yuan so Wei Wuxian’s hands are free and he doesn’t have to worry about his son

except Wen Ning, black-eyed with rage, throws Wei Wuxian into a tree hard enough to crack a rib, and even as Lan Wangji raises Bichen, A-Yuan shouts,

“Uncle Ning, stop!”

and Wen Ning stops

(as a rule, Wei Wuxian can’t take over with himself and Chenqing anything A-Yuan is controlling, unless A-Yuan lets him, and vice versa. To eliminate variables, Wei Wuxian had made sure that any reins on Wen Ning were his (Wei Wuxian’s) alone. But in that moment, before Wen Ning came fully back to himself, his reins were swinging free - and they were back within the bounds of the Burial Mounds, where A-Yuan was always strong)

and Lan Wangji puts several pieces together at once and prays to every single god in heaven and every ancestor he’s disappointing right now that this was a miracle of love and a very cute child piercing through a fierce corpse’s mindless rampage. That he simply...hallucinated the burst of resentful energy he just felt from the child in his arms

but he’s absolutely, utterly aware that he didn’t

Wei Wuxian explains, stilted and awkward at the bottom of the hill. Challenging and terrified. Holding on to A-Yuan.

Lan Wangji promises to keep the secret.

Wei Wuxian takes Hanguang-jun’s word

Remember, oh, remember, that Wei Wuxian walks A-Yuan back up the hill until A-Yuan gets tired and Wei Wuxian picks him up, on their one-and-a-half–man plank bridge through the dark. Remember remember remember that before he can finish speaking that line, there is light - the clearing is lit with lanterns and secret-keepers 2 through 51, and I suppose 53 now that Wen Ning is awake, are waiting with dinner and warmth and welcome. Reader, remember this.

But then...

Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning had gone, and then, with a terrible expression on his face, so had A-Yuan’s baba. Now his baba’s anger and sadness is so strong that the weight of it makes A-Yuan cry from hundreds of miles away, and he curls into Granny’s arms and sends his baba everything he can. Will everything be okay, then? Will everyone come home; will they be able to smile again?

(oh, A-Yuan...)

(No.)

A-Yuan - Wei Yuan, Little Potato (when he’s good for baba or bad for Aunt Qing) or Little Radish (inverse); one day to be Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui - was born in the good old fairy tale way of earth and iron and blood. It’s a hard thing for any child to lose even a single parent - in one day, in one minute, A-Yuan loses two of three, as the father of his blood burns away in hand the last shreds of Stygian iron, and promptly loses control of his own resentful energy

(the Tiger Seal does nothing like explode, in this world. It was never more than a prop - but a vital one. the benefit of proving it destroyed would be worth the loss of a parent, if only a second didn’t follow on its heels)

A-Yuan has been a dead thing (or close enough) come to life all his life, and both dead and living have been his friends and family. But he’s never felt the transition the other way: from life to death

It’s no wonder, really, that he can’t remember it afterward. No wonder that even on the land that was the last part of him, he was feverish and barely conscious when Lan Wangji stumbled, bleeding, off of Bichen, and took in his arms. No wonder that he remembered very little at all, including the dead.

But he would be okay. Under physical and spiritual inspection, he’s a perfectly normal boy. He may not be able to form a golden core (there's something in the way), but there are...workarounds. He’ll grow up in one of the most heavily spiritually warded enclaves in the world, safe and loved as he relearns (mostly in secret) what he can do

(For the sake of this story, and A-Yuan’s survival as something close to canon, let’s say there are some truly dark things in the forbidden section of the Lan Library, that could only be used for nefarious purposes - though, I suppose we already knew that. Let’s say there are talismans that will disguise the very nature of qi, so resentful energy may appear spiritual. Let’s say, Lan Xichen becomes the 53rd to know the truth, because his brother needs help - and it’s Wei Wuxian’s child, okay? It’s just Wei Wuxian’s child, quiet and unsure rather than laughing as he always was. If you were in the inner circle of leaders of the Sunshot Campaign, you have absolutely met this child, probably held him and bounced him on one knee)

(What keeps Lan Xichen up at night isn’t the concealing amulet he helped his brother make, which Lan Yuan wears at all times around his neck. It’s the silence he keeps every time he meets Jiang Wanyin’s eyes over a diplomatic table. If anyone had the right to know Wei Yuan survived... But Sandu Sengshou killed Wei Wuxian, everyone knows that, and now he hunts demonic cultivators - what might his pride drive him to do to his nephew, if he ever learned the truth? (Selfishly, Lan Xichen know that if Lan Wangji lost A-Yuan, even just to living at Lotus Pier, Lan Xichen might lose his brother. That fear ebbs with time passing, but the the longer he hasn’t spoken, the worse it would be to do so...))

They don’t restrict Lan Yuan to the Cloud Recesses, no more than any other novice. For memory of their mother, neither of them could bear that. Jiang Cheng does eventually see him at a conference, and stops dead. Years have passed, but that is an entire goddamn nephew, right there. But - how? No, it can’t be. That’s...everyone knows Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian. It’s just...and someone would have told him. The Lans value propriety above all, after all.

Anything that can be done with spiritual cultivation can be done with demonic cultivation, save heal. Lan Sizhui makes up for it with an encyclopedic knowledge of undead and monsters, and a prodigal talent for Inquiry

On their first night hunt, the young juniors face ghosts. Unfortunately, this is when Lan Jingyi learns that he’s terrified of ghosts. He’s hiding behind Lan Sizhui and panic is contagious, and the senior accompanying them is in a different room of the abandoned house, and Lan Sizhui forgets that he’s holding a sword and just shouts, “Stop! Go away!”

the ghost, of course, obeys

Lan Jingyi peeks out form behind him. “Did- did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Sizhui admits (except that he’s absolutely sure he did)

There’s another flicker of movement, just the wind blowing ashes but Jingyi whips around with wild eyes. “Can you do it again?”

[friendship. my point is, he’s a demon baby but he has family and friends who love and accept him.]

And one day, some absolute fucking morons are going to bring him back home, where he can never be anything but strong, and threaten his friends and family? And the threat is an army of his old playmates, commanded by an attempt at recreating some combination of Chenqing and the Tiger Seal? He couldn’t manage it in Yi City, but now A-Yuan, Wei Yuan, Lan Sizhui stands on earth that has never stopped being part of him, or maybe he’s never stopped being part of it. If he closed his eyes he could feel every foot on it, living and restless dead. And they’re threatening his baba - who he remembers, as the earth remembers its old partner, even though the blood is changed - and his father Hanguang-jun, and his extended family and friends?

No.

#lyratalus #mdzs #the untamed #ficlet #lan sizhui #wei wuxian #uh who else is here #must i tag them all? don't wanna #my fic #hmm need the speaker for the dead variant to get more childhood stuff; they're similar there

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