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#Heck he even has a tree house!!
phoenixcatch7 · 2 years
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Love the idea of each previous hero's journey being mostly lost to time, such that each time the cycle starts again absolutely no one picks up the very obvious clues that might lead them to the hero.
Oh, you've named your blond haired blue eyed child Link, have you? That's a good name!
Oh, he's found a strange red and white maned horse he's named epona who has utterly bonded with him? How unusual!
Yes, the princess Zelda is the same age, isn't she? What a good omen for the family!
We know he doesn't talk much, but he's the sweetest lad, don't worry!
Don't fret, dearie, his wanderlust will abate when he grows up, I'm sure it won't get him in too much trouble before then.
Prodigious little swordsman, isn't he? He would make a great knight if he wanted to when he's older!
Oh? Rumours about a long forgotten temple in the woods? How strange! Are you sure it's not just the children telling stories?
Look at him in his armoured green outfit! That hat looks lovely on him - where did you find it?
#It's so funny#In just about every Zelda I've played there's been about a hundred signs link is In The Building and no one ever notices#Twilight Princess was the absolute worst everyone just kept bringing up Its The Hero stuff and it just was not clicking#By the time we got to epona I was half tempted to make a bingo card#Heck he even has a tree house!!#Strong oot time genes there XD#There's something about loading up a Zelda game and going 'yup. This is a Zelda game alright' but NO ONE in universe notices#YOU ACTUALLY LIVE THERE YOU GUYS STUDY THIS IN HISTORY CLASS#it also opens up the great trope of link casually knowing stuff from previous lives he absolutely shouldn't and nobody taking it seriously#Until he comes back with the master sword#Some of those games were particularly bonkers and if the specifics never got recorded then there's no way anyone would believe them#A zora princess tried to marry the hero?? Lmao try writing fanfic#Listen I know it says the hero came from the woods but kokiri don't exist he would have just lived in a cottage or something#How dare you besmirch the hero's honour! He would never lower himself to base property damage! Never mind pots!#No hylian can ever wrestle a goron are you insane??#Talking boat.... Sure#But you just KNOW Zelda would get some scholars and they'd hang off his every word#I love fics where link just casually references some world shaking knowledge (ie rito being zora descended and their own squid ancestors)#Or what the divine beasts were named after#Or what time travel feels like#Or that the myths hylians came from the skies are true#Or what one Zelda did when she vanished centuries ago#Or what the giant skeletons were#That kind of thing#Sorry I rambled#long post#legend of zelda#loz#loz zelda#loz link
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noisilyscreechingsong · 7 months
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Danny ran away.
The classic reveal didn’t go right/ the GIW is hunting to him/ everyone is dead. You pick.
He’s alone. In Gotham. With nothing.
Staying in the city makes sense, right? Except for the crazy rogues he doesn’t want to get involved in or the straight up normal humans dressing up to fight them. Danny wasn’t touching that with a 10 foot pole. So he travelled further to the outskirts where he hoped to find a cabin some rich family only stays in for the summer.
Instead he finds rich mansions hidden back in the trees with big tall gates keeping everyone out. Most had people living there (he checked), all except for this one.
He’s only seen a kid, maybe ten, go in and out for school and sneaking out late at night.
Danny thinks he’s smart, sneaking in to snag some food and rest a bit when he knows the kid is gone. He doesn’t account for if the boy comes back earlier than normal.
Wide, surprised eyes meet wide, panicked eyes. Danny doesn’t even shove the next bite of Mac and Cheese in his mouth before he’s booking it to the nearest window.
“Wait!” Danny doesn’t wait. “You don’t have to go!”
Danny slows to a stop. Um, what?
He turns to give the boy a look but he doesn’t cringe back. The kid steps forward, almost impulsively.
“You’re the one who’s been stealing food and sleeping in the guest bedroom in the west wing, right?”
How the heck did he know where Danny was taking a nap? He always made sure to fix the bed when he left.
The boy continues without any answer.
“You don’t have to keep hiding. You can stay. I’ll provide you food and clothes and you can pick whatever room you want to stay in.”
Danny doesn’t know what’s gotten into the kid, but he suddenly feels flat footed and so off balanced.
“Why?” He asks incredulously. Why do all that for him? Why trust a strange teenager in his home? Why bother with him? He’s obviously homeless and has been stealing from him.
The boy’s lips thin slightly like he doesn’t want to say. Like he’s embarrassed.
Instead he says, “You had dozens of chances to steal any of the priceless artifacts in this house, but instead you only steal enough food for yourself and to rest.”
Okay. Yea, that was technically true and he could see the boy is thinking he figured out Danny’s personality by just that (it reminds him of Jazz how confident the kid is), but that doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy!
He goes to tell the kid off for thinking he knows anything about some random teen that keeps breaking into his house, but then notices the way the boy is holding himself.
“You’re hurt.”
The boy jolts like he wasn’t expecting Danny to notice at all. He looks down and adjusts his weight a bit.
“Uh…”
“Did you twist your ankle?” Danny guesses.
The boy mutely nods, looking at him with wide eyes with too much emotion to decipher.
“Well come sit down, don’t keep standing on it, dummy.”
The boy quickly makes his way over to sit delicately on the edge of the couch cushion. Danny goes to the freezer where he knows he saw an ice pack once when he was going through it.
Danny helps the kid turn and lay back until he can elevate the foot under a pillow and set the cold ice pack over the sock. The boy is still staring at him with those wide, intense eyes.
“Ice it for a while and after you take a shower I’ll wrap it for you. Where’s your first aid kit?”
“The first floor bathroom.”
“Which one? You have three.”
“Four actually. You missed the one in the laundry room.”
Danny gives him a look.
“Kid.”
“Tim,” the boy corrects happily. “My name is Tim. Timothy Drake.”
Danny just looks back for a few moments at what is undoubtedly a flicker of hope in those blue eyes. He sighs.
“I’m Danny.”
And a weird friendship was born. Or more of a sibling-ship? Brotherhood? They teeter over the line of friend and family daily.
Danny did stay and Tim was thrilled to have someone else in the house, someone that wasn’t cold or professional towards him. They played games together and joked and taught each other things.
Danny was good at fixing anything that was broken and was the one to do any errands while Tim was at school. He was also the one who had to teach Tim how to be a brother.
Tim on the other hand seemed to be good at everything but letting himself relax. He was a hyper and intelligent kid whose mind was always active, so Danny had to accommodate and come up with crazy games and tasks for the boy in the disguise of requests, but he also made the boy sit down with him to watch crappy movies and just relax together.
They had fun, but they also had bumps and misunderstands. Danny nearly blew his top when Tim snuck out to spy on Batman and Robin without telling him (and wasn’t that a conversation to remember when the Danny found out what he was really doing at night). And Tim had a problem with lying to try and make Danny not worry, which ended up doing the opposite.
They got through those hiccups together though because they were both too possessive to let the other go that easily.
Tim created a fake identity for Danny saying they were cousins. The same black hair and blue eyes kinda sold it with a backstory of Danny’s mother being disowned by Janet’s parents. Jack and Janet weren’t home enough (or invested enough) to confirm or deny.
It was funny though watching Tim stare after Jason Todd-Wayne longingly for a while, but enough was enough. If Tim secretly wanted to befriend his idol, then Danny would make it happen. And he did of course. He made friends with the butler after ‘losing’ a frisbee in their yard and asked if they could get together for dinner one night so Tim and Jason could hang out outside of school. Alfred obviously knew Danny was pushing for Tim’s sake, but he still agreed easily enough.
So became a normal for the Wayne’s and the Drake’s to eat dinner together at least once a month. And after many meetings Danny mentally checked them off as ‘okay enough for vigilantes’ and stayed behind while the two younger boys ran off to go play a game before they headed home next door.
“Mr. Wayne?”
“Come now, you know you can call me Bruce, Danny,” the man smiles. It’s a little too wide, but Danny understands he’s still trying to put on the Brucie mask. He really wish he wouldn’t.
“Right, Bruce.” He fidgets for a second with his hoodie strings and he can feel Bruce’s attention zero in on the motion. “I need to ask you a favor.”
The air turns tense with the silence after that.
“What’s wrong, Danny? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine! Promise. I just- I just need you to promise me something. Please.”
Danny felt so awkward. He has never relied on an adult before, always doing everything himself or with other kids, something Tim and him have in common. So to turn to Bruce Wayne was out of character, but he wasn’t really. He was asking Batman, and him Danny could trust a little more.
“Promise you what?”
Danny could hear the barely covered suspicion in his voice.
“If- If something happens and I’m not around anymore, I need you to take Tim in,” he states, looking at the man full on to show how serious a matter this was.
The man stares back equally serious.
“What would happen to you? Are you in some kind of trouble?” Bruce asks.
Danny shakes his head hard.
“I’m not into drugs, Bruce. Or a gang or gambling or anything like that okay? I don’t owe any debt someone’s coming after me for. I just need insurance, some piece of mind that if something did happen that meant I couldn’t take care of Tim, there would be someone to look after him.”
Bruce stares back, thinking, for several moments.
“Tim has parents, Danny, I don’t know what you expect me to do. And what do you mean you take care of him? Don’t you boys have a caretaker?”
“Of course we don’t. We look after each other, but I’m the oldest. His parents are never home. I’m not exaggerating, they were in Gotham for only fifty-four days last year. They missed Tim’s birthday, holidays, everything. He’s still a kid, he needs someone to be there for him and if I’m suddenly gone then he has no one. Promise me that won’t happen. Promise me you’ll take him in, that you’ll figure out a way to keep him with you so he at least has Jason and you and Alfred.”
Bruce is silent for a while and Danny knows what he’s struggling with. He didn’t really want to use his trump card, but desperate measures.
“We already know who you are. You don’t have to worry about him finding out your secret.”
All traces of the Brucie mask drops at that confession and Batman analyzes him.
“How?”
“Tim is a really smart kid,” he just says with a fond smile. “He’s known for a while too, so you know he won’t go blabbing to the media or whatever.”
“What about you?”
“If I wanted to blackmail you, don’t you think I would have led with that? I don’t care what you do in your free time, but it’s not my business to tell.”
Danny shrugs and tries not to squirm under being scrutinized.
“Since you know who I am, if you are in trouble or ever need help, you can come to me.”
Danny blinks.
“Yea, that’s what I’m doing. So do you promise?”
Bruce nods once, very controlled.
“Yes. I promise you that I will take care of Tim Drake if anything happens to you,” the man vows solemnly.
Danny smiles back, shoulders sagging in relief.
“Thank you.”
When Danny somehow saves Jason from dying, and two months later goes missing, Bruce has to honor that promise while also tracking down the teenager to bring home to a very distraught Tim.
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miquella-everywhere · 1 month
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Rating the Demigods based off their Homes
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Technically Leyndell is not Morgotts house but his moms, which he inherited after escaping the sewers she threw him into, but he also runs the place like the navy runs a ship, so everything is in perfect working order. Nobody has any clue who he is and I appreciate his commitment to the bit. 8/10 really cool scenery but could definitely use some dusting and giant dragon corpse removal.
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The Moghwyn Dynasty is every health inspectors worst nightmare. General unsanitary setting and blood swamps, Albinaurics captured and forced to assimilate against their will, along with several war medics, and also Mohg has the body of his shriveled up half-brother in his freezer. But overall the ancient civilization that lived here before Mohg had pretty okay taste, especially since they built their city under an underground starry sky. 10/10 but only because the health inspector died and Mohg forged the health report.
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Godrick snuck in after his failings at the Shattering and just straight up claimed the place as his own, so Stormveil technically isn't even his house. Also his presence alone is so rank that thorns have started festering outside of the castle. 8/10 to the Stormlords cause they've got sick sense of style, but 2/10 to Godrick because he is a literal home invader.
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Radahn does not give two shits about architecture, he clearly made Redmane based off of every other fort in the Lands Between and chose function over fashion, which is fair I guess, but also kinda boring. At least he strung up the all of the swords in Redmane and gave it some flaire. 4/10 because Redmane is so basic, plus minus 1 point for the tetanus hazard.
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Raya Lucaria had an architecture course as an elective and Rykard committed himself to his GPA and developed his own aesthetic. He graduated top of his class and Rennala baked a cake for him. Best day of his life. Then he went up to Mt. Gelmir and was like, "I should totally make this place my house," and then he did because nobody had the balls to stop him. 10/10 for his commitment to the blasphemy aesthetic. And props to Tannith for doing a great job keeping the foyer the cleanest place in the Lands Between, but also 1/10 for the backyard being a general crime against humanity.
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Ranni follows the rule of, "if it aint broke dont fix it," which is exactly why she broke everything else in the world and then returned to her childhood home after the Shattering. Caria could definitely use some bedrooms though because where the heck does everyone sleep?? Or do anything else for that matter???? Caria: Bathroom? Never heard of it. 6/10 because the sparkly magic bits in the air are super cool but Caria Manor definitely should've been a legacy dungeon.
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Miquella attended both Leyndell and Raya Lucaria architecture classes, excelling over everyone and beating Rykards score in the final exam by exactly one point, and yet has no idea why Rykard is so pissed at him. Then after disowning his dad he had the great idea to try and build a treehouse but grew his own tree first because he's an over achiever and has gifted kid syndrome. 10/10 because the aesthetic is elegant and immaculate, and everyone who has depression is trying to get there for free therapy.
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Malenia went to architecture school with Miquella because she had nothing better to do and slept through every class. The most she did there was break up Miquella and Rykards final exam squabble and also couldn't care less about architecture because she's fuckin blind. Rates the Haligtree architecture 10/10 because even though she's blind, she's sure that Miquellas sense of style is very pretty. But also rates it a 2/10 because Miquella keeps stubbing his toes and tripping on the carved stone flooring even though he insists everything is fine.
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The Land of Shadow is less of Messmers house and more of his eternal timeout corner. He temper-tantrumed too hard one day and Marika put him there then completely forgot he ever existed. -10/10 because the parental abandonment is so real
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espinosaurusrexex · 3 months
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Acid Fog
Wolds Collide Collection
BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader apocalypse au
summary: You take the chance to bond with a new friend when the acid fog rolls in, inevitably trapping you with Bucky for several hours. Bucky has to learn the hard way, that he won't get rid of you that easily.
a/n: I'm not dead. I just have so much to do. But you best believe, once I finally finished my papers, I will work on all the stories that are already outlined in my drafts 💚 please bear with me until then...
not prooread - will do so soon
word count: 2.6k
warnings: grumpy/sunshine, mentions of death, dystopia, deadly fog, reader is lonely, Bucky is lonely - they're gonna be lonely together, worried CatDad!Bucky, strangers to friends (for now)
collection playlist | main masterlist | collection masterlist
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May 13th 2039
Hey, Book.
I’ve decided that Bucky needs a friend, so I’m going to visit him today.
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Finding the handsome not-so-anymore stranger was a challenge. But you loved challenges. It mixed up the day, made things less boring, and was a nice way to spend your time.
You had planned things perfectly. You had enough time until the next acid fog would roll through, grabbed one of the canned soups that were rarely found anymore - but you’d gladly sacrifice them for a new friend, and you had a backpack ready with some essentials in case you wouldn’t make it home in time. 
You first headed in the direction Bucky took off to the other day after falling into your trap. There wasn’t much to “detour around” where you lived and chances of him being fairly close - considering being too far from shelter was a certain death sentence - gave you confidence with that approach. 
You walked for about two hours until the tree line faded into blotchy scatters of green. There was a house - or rather ruins of one - sitting by the edge of the forest. You frowned. Bucky wasn’t stupid. At least he didn’t seem that way. He would never hide above ground. Every decent survivor that had lived up to this point knew ‘low was the go’. The chances of being killed were cut to 20% when you lived secluded and underground - the beach was good too apparently, but you were too far to see for yourself. 
Your eyes swayed to the ground. You had a feeling Bucky was here, you just needed to find out where exactly. So you approached the ruins and stepped through what was left of the doorway. Dust and dirt covered the surfaces, ripped cushioned sofas, and scratched hardwood floors. There wasn’t much left to use here. The place was looted and brittle with holes in the ceilings and missing steps. You wondered how you ever recognized it as a house in the first place - because, really, this was anything but. The bones barely held up the remains and made it seem like an oversized version of a carport. 
It wasn’t long until you had scouted the place and reached the other end of it. Now you were standing on the porch and looking out onto a wild yard that reached into the forest again. You walked down and towards it, searching the area and still feeling as though Bucky was close. He couldn’t have lived any further - it would have been crazy. 
The leaves rustled beneath your feet as you skipped vines and roots peaking from beneath. Your eyes swept the area until they landed on an odd-looking lot of ground. As if the branches were forcefully pulled to cover up a buried something, the vines stretched over a green-grayish ledge. 
Immediately you headed for it. This has got to be it, you thought until you reached an opening into the ground that revealed a heavy-looking bunker door. 
Heck yeah. You knew he wasn’t that stupid - even though he did fall into your trap...
As soon as you opened it and entered, it felt as though you had stepped several decades back. The whole interior seemed to be dipped in sepia. Old furniture crammed into odd places and neatly kept surfaces without dust made it look like an old photograph. 
You walked further, let your hand wander over the spines of the books aligned atop a lonely shelf on the wall. They were Cyril, you guessed, as you watched the golden letters shine when you passed them. Beneath the books and next to a booger green armchair was a record player, aligned with old records of people with excessively gelled hairstyles and tailored suits - ancient. 
But Bucky was nowhere to be found. 
A heavy sigh escaped you as your backpack landed on the ground and you went about scouting the bunker some more. The space wasn’t too big, and Bucky seemed to have accumulated a bunch of treasures there for some time now, so you had plenty of things to discover. Eventually, though, you just fell back into the ugly armchair and tried to start up the record player. 
Bucky’s music wasn’t particularly your go-to, but you wouldn’t complain in a world where music was as rare as a working outlet. After a while, you could even understand why Bucky resided here. It was kind of comforting - homey. Something not many people could call their own in this world.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You shot up, knocking over a couple books and earning a dark glare from the man in the doorway - Bucky. 
You hadn’t even heard him come in. “I... I just wanted to see you,” you explained with an excited smile on your face. "I brought soup!" Your hands pointed towards your backpack.
“You- you broke in!” His boots stomped over to you just as you turned to pick up the pile of paperbacks. 
“Well, it’s not so much breaking in when we’re friends.”
“We’re not friends.” Bucky reached forward and snatched the items from your grasp. He was slightly sweaty, grime covering his forehead, and settled in the harsh frown lines you could only see because he was so close. 
“Yes, we are! You fall into my trap, you are my friend.” You ticked off the points with your fingers just as Bucky threw his hands in the air. 
“You can’t just make up these ridiculous rules.” 
“Or can I?”
“No. We can’t be friends. I don’t even know your name.”
He did have a point there. For a moment you watched as he neatly stacked the Russian books back in their place and then told him your name. 
“What?” He grumbled. 
And you just reiterated the words that you hadn’t said in forever. 
He turned back to you with a poker face. “I don’t like it,” Bucky said so monotonely, it almost seemed like he wanted to tease you. 
“Excuse me?” You weren’t offended, it was hard to make friends nowadays - there was nothing unusual about a person being hesitant at first. 
“It doesn’t fit you. You should be called trouble.“ He still had that dead look on his face and you were starting to think he just didn't know anything else. You wouldn't blame him - seriously.
“See! We are friends you know me!” You chuckled but Bucky just shook his head. 
“I don’t know you,” he whispered with slumped shoulders as he lowered his bag close to yours. Then he took off his hat and ran a hand through his shoulder-long hair. 
Man, he was kind of cute. But that was probably just the loneliness talking, so you shook out of it. 
You opened your arms and sunk back into the chair. “Well lucky for you we have a bunch of time to get to know each other now.”
And Bucky’s eyes widened. “What why?”
“The acid fog is rolling in early this evening.” You looked past him and out the entrance, where a deep gray sky covered most of the view. “I thought you knew... and that’s why you’re so, well, tense.”
“What, no I was just outside it’s-” The brunette turned and you could see his shoulders stiffen when he realized you were right. “Shit.” It was a low mumble that was followed by another nervous swipe through his hair. 
For a man who seemed to be cool, calm, and collected so far, his feet were doing an awful lot of pacing right now. 
“Are you okay?” You were careful to ask. Something was wrong and you didn’t want to risk him exploding. You didn’t know how he would react and a small sadness washed over your chest when you realized that maybe you weren’t as good of friends as you wanted to be. 
“Shut up.” Yup, definitely not the talking type then. 
“Can I help you or is ther-“ You were interrupted by a soft meow sounding over the rumbling of the clouds. 
“Fuck, finally.” Bucky exhaled and knelt down, just to reveal a white fluffy cat tangling in his touch. 
“Uh...There's a cat in your bunker,” you pointed out and Bucky picked his stiffness back up ever so slightly. 
“Her name is Alpine. Touch her and you’re dead.” 
So this was what had this big, broody man’s panties in a twist. He was worried for his pet. That was super adorable, you had to admit. And it charmed you just that much more when you saw the way he cuddled her into his chest before setting her back on the ground. 
“I- Oh.”
As soon as he’d said it, Alpine had sauntered her way to you and rubbed her fluffy white face on your shin. You were just frozen in place - unsure what to do. You wanted to pet her so badly, but who knew what Bucky would do if you so much as moved now. 
“The cat has chosen. Don’t blame me.” You threw your hands in the air when Alpine started to purr and jumped only our lab. Now that she was so close to your face, you noticed that one of her eyes was missing, a darker patch of fur replacing the spot where it should have been, but it just made her that much more charming. 
Bucky glared at you for a good second and then moved to close the bunker in order to keep the deadly air out. And you took the opportunity to finally pet his cat. 
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It had only been 20 minutes and Bucky was already regretting his decision not to send you out into the fog. 
First, you had broken into his home. Then you had declared you as friends, to which - for the record - he never agreed to. And then you had stolen Alpine’s attention. That was just the cherry on top of your pile of audacity. 
And though he had been told that he wasn’t a pleasant contemporary, he wouldn’t send people straight to their deaths like that. He was a grump, but he wasn’t cruel. So he settled on quietly sitting in a corner and hoping that you’d eventually grow tired of snooping through his belongings. 
But he still held a grudge. Because he hadn’t planned to spend so much time with anyone, really - except for Alpine, of course - and now he was stuck with you for at least three hours. You had basically forced yourself into his life with that agitating sunshine demeanor of yours and the annoying optimism in every single thing you did. 
You had to be broken, somehow. Nobody could be this happy at the end of the world. Because that’s what this was. The end. The time you had to wait out until you escaped the hell this world had become just to spend an eternity in the actual one. 
Yeah, Bucky believed in heaven and hell. Somebody had to be responsible for idiots like Hydra and he was sure there was an extra special lava pit reserved just for the god complex fogged imbeciles that were responsible for it all going to shit once and for all. 
Bucky huffed at your occasional ‘woahs’ and ‘oohs’ and shrugged off his jacket while you went through more of his things. There was nothing he could do anyway. Tying you up and gagging you until it was over would be incredibly awkward for both of you. So, as long as you didn’t break anything or talk to him, he deemed you safe. 
“Woahhh, that is so cool! Where’d you get that?” You suddenly said, and when he turned, Bucky saw you pointing at his metal arm. 
He looked down, turned it in the yellow gleam of the bunker lamp, and then focused on your face again. People had seen a lot these days, though none of them ever asked him about it. They either stayed silent or avoided him altogether - the latter of which he preferred. He didn't like talking about it. It wasn’t anything he was proud of for that matter.
“Nonya,” he grumbled and sat back in the chair he chose to reside in for the rest of the day. 
“What’s Nonya?” Your head cocked to the side and Bucky couldn’t help but crack a small smirk.
“Non ya business.”
And finally, you shut up. He exhaled, closed his eyes, and smiled complacently. However the silence didn’t last long. 
“Okay that was a good one but really, where did you get that arm - it’s amazing.”
“It’s not amazing and I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Now do me a favor and shut up before I set you outside”
“You wouldn’t dare. After all, I was the one that helped you out of that trap.”
Buck had already established that he wouldn’t. But the thought seemed ever so intriguing right this second. 
“That you built,” he deadpanned. “I’m done talking to you. Just be quiet for the next hour, so we both have a chance at surviving this thing.” Before I murder you or myself.  That last part only echoed in his mind before he grabbed a book and hoped deeply that you’d comply. 
You huffed and slumped in the chair next to him. Bucky only dared to glance at you once. Then he began reading, enjoying the silence you finally granted him. 
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You watched Bucky read his book. Fascinated by the shapes on the page that didn't look like letters to you, you leaned over to him. Bucky was skimming the pages swiftly, turning pages before you could even look at all the lines and then starting all over again. 
When you leaned in a little too closely, he scooted back and hid the page from you with a glare. So, you stood up and sauntered over to the shelf again, tracing the printed covers with your finger. 
“They’re all in Russian,” you pointed out after you had grazed the last spine. Most of the books were bound in brown, grey, or red. 
“So?” He just shrugged, not even bothering to look at you.
“Do you know Russian?”
“The guy that lived here first was Russian.” He shut the book finally, tracing the cover with his own fingers. “So, I taught myself.”
“You know, I can get you some normal books. I can’t imagine there’s anything interesting in there.” You stared at the Russian flag on most of the books. They looked like government-issued prints. Nothing like a fun novel or romance book.
“I don’t mind them, really...” Bucky set the book down and stood next to you. Then he scratched his stubble with his flesh hand. “Though, they all have a communistic touch.”
“See!” You pointed at him. “What do you like to read? I’ve got it all. Romance, fantasy, sci-fi.”
“No sci-fi please.” Bucky rolled his eyes and you could only imagine why. You’d had enough of it in the real world, so the sci-fi book you had once acquired during one of your town walks hat sat in the corner of your little home untouched.
“So, you’re not opposed to romance?” Your eyebrows raised suggestively only for Bucky to glare at you again.
Bucky huffed and sat back down. “Forget it. I'll read my Russian books.”
You chuckled and threw your hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Fantasy it is.” And then you settled in next to him staring at the ceiling with a small smile and a giddy feeling in your chest. 
“See..,” you whispered, “I knew we would get along eventually.”
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**Bonus
“Buckstar… Starbucks… Buck-”
“What are you doing?”
“I think it's only fair that if you give me a nickname, I can have one for you, too. How does Bucky-Buck sound?”
“No”
“Buckaroo.”
“Do I need to throw you out? Cause I will.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“I thought I already had.”
"Good point… get out.”
“I can’t, the Fogg’s about to come!”
“Well, then I suggest you hurry your ass up, so it can’t kill you before I do.”
„I know you might not try to be, but you are very funny.“
*huffs in frustration*
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Hey, Book,
Bucky's not that lonely anymore.
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small-sinclair · 3 months
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Hiii🌙🌙Wanted to ask if you can write headcanons of Johnny Slaughter😖 🙏 of course you don't have to do it🤗⭐ it was just a question.. ☺️😶
I can do that. I don't mind!
Headcanons of Johnny Slaughter
tw: mentions of killings, blood
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He is the biggest goofball you'll meet if he doesn't want to kill you. He has a lot of bad puns and jokes.
Just for the heck of it, he says something so out there and watches his family argue/fight. He'll stay quite for a moment with a shit eating grin and leave the madness.
Banned from touching the radio.
Banned from Cook's kitchen.
Banned from Sissy's room (don't ask what happened).
VERY knowledgeable about flowers and butterflies. He has a lot of books over butterflies.
Johnny does like to go to a certain house in town to visit an old woman that reminds him of his grandmother when she was alive. He'll sit with her on the front porch in the summers and listen to her stories even if she already told it. She lives by herself and her family doesn't visit her often, which makes both her and Johnny a bit sad.
I have an hc of him having a long scar on his back that stretches from his upper back and curves to the left side of his bode like a 'J'. He got it when he fell out of a tree.
This man knows how to play the fiddle.
Ask him about his bottle cap collection.
h
I think he is a bit overprotective of Bubba. If a victim is making fun of him or taunting him, Johnny would not show mercy as they kill them.
HATES milk. He will never drink it.
He enjoys reading (tell no one).
Can't cook, but knows how to bake! Loves making muffins and cookies!
Johnny has a soft spot for dogs and cats. There's an orange cat that lives in the barn named Froggie; she's Johnny's cat.
He has another cat named Lucky; she's a turtle cat.
Johnny has a dog, too. A German Shepard named Cain.
I actually think he was once in love, but not with the girl he kidnapped (can't remember her name for the life of me). She and Johnny used to play by the watering hole before it dried out. When she got older, she had to move away. Before she did, she kissed Johnny goodbye, giving him his first kiss. He thinks about her from time to time, but shakes it away. If she really loved him, she would've came back and visited, but she hasn't.
Has kissed a guy before when he was drunk. May or may not had a make-out session behind the bar. (He enjoyed it?)
When he's not killing, he's working part time at the town's car shop. He's really good at it, too!
He actually loves kids and wants kids of his own one day, but he won't be able to stay around because of his way of life.
There's a family photo folded in his back pocket he keeps.
Whenever he as a dumb idea, he says it out loud, gets a look from Sissy and Nubbins, and they do it. All three of them share 1 brain cell when it comes to doing something dumb together.
He knows he's adopted, but he's okay with it... sometimes. He does think about what could've been from time to time, but he shakes it off. Nothing tastes sweeter than blood on his lips and Nancy's apple pie.
Johnny is touch starved.
There was this one kill that he remembers and thinks about a lot. It was with a girl about his age. Instead of running with her friends, she went to Johnny. He knew it was an easy kill, but he didn't expect that her last moments was giving him a hug and promising that everything will be okay. He didn't know why he held her close for a while and stayed with her until her last breath. His family ended up having her for dinner, but Johnny made sure he took her bones and charm necklace. He put her bones in a shoe box and buried her in the family grave. Sometimes, he wears the charm necklace and thinks of her, remembering her promise that everything was going to be okay.
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gallusrostromegalus · 10 months
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AEIWAM question:
The Soul Society has the ability to interact with the human world physically, and wildly more firepower than pre-dead people have. Is there a particular reason the world of the dead hasn't pulled a colonialism or other form of resource extraction on the world of the living? Is there a reason the warlords on the fringes of the rukongai don't set up in the world of the living instead of the spirit world's most marginal land?
Why haven't the dead colonized the living? The dead have not pulled a colonialism on the living world because (and IIRC this is canon but it's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment) while Shinigami, Arrancar and other dead spirits CAN go hang out in the living world for brief periods of time, if forced to STAY in the living world, their superpowers rapidly degrade because the ambient spiritual energy in the living world is so low. That's why Rukia wasn't *immediately* suspicious when her powers weren't coming back after activating Ichigo's, and why the shinigami that visit Ichigo's school during the aarancar arc don't stay after the battle- they can't heal effectively. There's also the whole "Balance the total number of Souls between the living and spirit worlds" thing. I'm not sure what the dead having permanent residency in the world of the living would do to that balance, but it's probably Not Great.
Why aren't there fringe district warlords or other countries? Great news! THERE ARE. They're just not human. Hueco Mundo used to be the bulk of the West 80th disctrict, but then it got lightly dimension'd off by the noble houses after they stole the Soul King's bodyparts, and the partition between Hueco Mundo and Soul Society is made of the Soul King's toes. Heck, it's even got a capital city- Las Noches! Las Noches used to be drastically more populated before Barragan took over and murdered the shit out of everyone he could find, because there's a BIG difference between not being able to let go of the living world and actually resorting to cannibalism, and I think there used to be a TON of hollows like Dondochaka and Pesche who just subsist off the ambient Reishi and do whatever instead of eating people. The Eastern 80th district is the land of the Beastfolk- Spirits like kitsune and tanuki, the ghosts of ancient and venerated trees, the sort of thing that appear in Mononoke/Mushishi/Princess Mononoke etc. and the wolves that Komamura is descended from. They're not as organized as the hollows so they didn't get ghetto'd like Hueco Mundo, but neither is the Soul Society able to tangle with them,. See, the entire Court Guard System and Central 46 was founded SPECIFICALLY to end and prevent the warring clans that had dominated Soul Society for so long. So the Central 46 and yamamoto are very much erring on "Don't let any extant clan or district or whatever political org gain too much power, and for the love of god, don't start a war", so the East is heavily protected by the sanctions that keep any clan from raising an army to invade another clan (much smaller than what would be needed to invade the east), the fact that the gotei-13 recruits very nearly all spiritually powerful people away from joining that kind of force, and Yamamoto's personal connection to Komamura's wolf clan (Major spoilers for the fic but the upshot is that he will NEVER tresspass on Wolf land, and the shinigami are also forbidden from doing so) The North is uncolonized for roughly the same reason antartica is uncolonized- most of it is straight-up inhospitable to human life, or all but a handful of beasfolk and hollows. In fact, the only thing that "Lives" up there are Kami- Serious Kami, like The Firebird and other personifications of Major natural disasters or philosophical concepts. The ONLY reason to go to North 80 is if you want to pick a fight with a God, and why would you do THAT when one of them just moved into the court guards? (That isn't quite true, actually- there are quite a few humans living on the southern edge of the Zaraki District- but they live in isolated villages that change locations every few decades and don't appear in Soul Society census data. They don't pay taxes, but neither do they demand services. The court guard is aware of the tribes living up north, but so long as they don't start shit, the gotei-13 is willing to ignore them.) The South 80th district is... well, it's 95% ocean, for starters, and many of the lovely tropical islands in there are active volcanoes and/or hellmouths. There's quite a few humans living in South 80, but the overall population is even smaller than the tribes in North 80, and many of the islands are "Uninhabited". I use quotes because those volcanoes are the result of Hell cracking under the strain of not being able to pass souls through it fast enough, and making incursions into other dimensions. The Demons that live on the spirit world side of these cracks have no beef with soul society- if anything, they're very pleased with it!, but they're busy trying to prevent a dimensional collapse or mass prison break, and tend to chase off any curious humans, so the closest thing to a "real" government is the Dimensional Crack Stabilization Project Manager, and the Law of Hell is mostly OSHA.
Thank you, that was a very helpful question!
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tarotphil · 23 days
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Bestie I need to know what answers corresponded to Dan or Phil
oh my gosh I’d love to share :)) take the quiz before reading below the cut!!!!! also take this as the performance art it is, I’m not genuinely assuming very specific things about dan and phil’s internal worlds lol
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for Dan: love like a dog as in loyal, eager to provide a service, full blown adoration. love like a leaky faucet as in always present even when the sink is “off”. but also as in sporadic, unexpected, unavailable. (this is not a dig at dan, that is the option I would choose)
for Phil: love like an archaeologist as in dedicated to craft of discovery, careful, curious. love like a snowstorm as in all encompassing, obscuring, hungry
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for Dan: Catholic guilt yeah, but also thinking on the past in a “I wish I had done it different way”
for Phil: mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. among other things his commitment to nostalgia is a type of grief.
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for Dan: peeling fruit as an act of service has big dan energy. he would pass tiktok clementine theory. cannabalism bc i think he’d enjoy himself on yellowjackets Hannibal hunger as love tumblr. angels is his for a lot of reasons. I was thinking about angels as machinery, which meshes with his clean brutalism aesthetic. also angels as fallen from grace, as a subversive queer symbol
for Phil: time loops, we are back to the grief and nostalgia. but I’m also appealing to his brand of creativity here. glitch theory, fantasticalism. ghosts….. we are back to grief, but also his understanding of horror. the ocean is something I associate with phil a lot for some reason. I think it’s the mystery of it
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for Dan: he’s a teddy bear, he’s so soft. he has his childhood teddy still. glowing globes for mystery, matches the aesthetic of the moon room. kiss me lollipop…… must I say more
for Phil: I was so captivated by him going “I think that’s what god looks like” in relation to the golf with friends structure. so, for phil, interesting lines and lights that evoke a feeling of reverence <3 icy stag bc I associate him with snow and the fantastical. surreal spotlight sky… I can’t explain it just is
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for Dan: A Boat is a poem to me about navigating depression, I think dan would love it. Dan is SO this too shall devastate coded, I don’t think I need to explain.
for Phil: the Kyla Jamieson poem for a few reasons. Love of the natural world, but also I think it carries a sense of creative frustration? The Athena Davis poem because of how gentle it is. meditations on death, meditations on kindness
Dan and Phil: this is the only option on the quiz that gives points to both outcomes…. I want to do with you what spring does with cherry trees. That’s so them
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I actually think these kinda speak for themselves
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for Dan: he’s such a sensitive soul, which is why he got the heart hurt option. he puts so much of his heart into everything, so this is an acknowledgment of him not being as cerebral as he thinks. for the bones, an ache in my bones is one of the ways I visualize my depression. a bone deep heaviness
for Phil: hurt in your hands because of hands as a symbol for creativity. to me this meant an itch to create. hurt in your lungs I can really only justify by vibes. the hurt of running too hard maybe? Of a body meant to house you doing a bad job of it?
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for Dan: mmm realizing I said I associate phil with the ocean which is true, but I associate Dan with whale falls. that’s all I got for that lol. for the microbiome, I love love love the human microbiome, it’s fascinating. I think dan would have a heck of a time with the idea that we’re mostly made up of non self organisms
for Phil: beauty in the small things and beauty in natural system we’re not at all a part of. nod to his love of birds, love you Steve
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these are mostly all vibes, except for Phil’s sense of otherworldliness and Dan’s commitment to forward growth
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for Dan: the wooden overcoats quote…… sorry not get 2009 on you. The Beatrice letters quote is a little bit “it’s awful work” “not to me, not if it’s you”. as a doctor loves his sickest patient for real
for Phil: the Mabel quote is a little bit about love as a creative I think, and a private creative at that. The love exists even if you destroy the art. the locked tomb quote, they are so dependent. he dyed his shoes green
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cabinofimagines · 5 months
Text
Last Christmas
First holiday fic coming up! Pairing: Platonic! Bianca and Nico di Angelo x reader Request: Reader showing Bianca and Nico their Christmas traditions? Also yes ik Bianca's not alive, but in this she is (if that's alright ofc) Warnings: None! Ig slight spoiler for the beginning of The Titan's Curse? Word Count: 1.2k - Asnyox
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Ever since Bianca and Nico arrived at Westover Hall earlier this year, you’ve slowly been befriending them. Bianca was a little on guard at first, but as soon as you asked Nico to explain the rules of Mythomagic to you he loved you. And Bianca commended you for listening weekly to the multiple hours long explanations that Nico had. Eventually, she had let her guard down enough to talk about her and Nico’s past. 
Whenever she brought up that they came from Italy (how cool is that?) Nico grew quiet. He once admitted he didn’t remember a lot from those times, and got fascinated with what Bianca had to say. It was sort of a story time, you learned more about the Di Angelo siblings as time went by, and sure, sometimes things didn’t line up (how could they not have known of the Cold War? The Berlin Wall? They have lived here for a few years now according to Bianca!), but that could not quell your fascination. 
That’s why, on December 8th, Bianca sat both you and Nico down to talk about how Christmas in Italy used to go. 
“Today is also known as Immacolata Concezione in Italy,” Bianca smiled, “Nico, do you know what that is in English?” Nico squinted his eyes, hesitating a little bit. 
“Immaculate … conception?” He asked and Bianca nodded, a proud glean in her eyes. 
“Exactly. It’s a celebration of the birth of the Virgin Mary, without original sin.” Bianca nodded, “Normally this is when you would put up the Christmas Tree, and when the Christmas Markets would start.” 
“Here some people put up their tree in November,” you sighed, “some even earlier. It’s kinda fun how Italy has a specific date for it.” You smiled, “Did you guys have a specific tradition while putting up the tree? Hot chocolate and peppermints?” 
“I’ve never had Christmas peppermints.” Nico looked at you, “What else do you eat for Christmas? Can we get some?” 
“I don’t think you need more sugar, Nico,” Bianca interrupted him. 
“What do you guys mean? No Christmas crack? Reindeer Chow?” You asked exasperated, “You Christmas must have been subpar. I mean, you never made a gingerbread house? Do Italians hate architecture or something?” You sat up straighter, “That’s it, we’re going to have to break into the kitchen and bake you guys a Christmas.” 
───────────
You thought it would be harder to get everything ready for baking. Heck, you even thought you would have to be sneaky about it! Instead, you mentioned it to Grover, a new boy, who had seemed intensely interested in Bianca and Nico, yet scared to approach them. Poor boy, you hoped he would gather the courage soon. As you asked his opinion on escape routes, so you could get the ingredients, he stood on helping instead. And so, two days later, Grover led you to the kitchen. 
“How did you manage this?” You asked, amazed at all the ingredients that were present.  You even spotted three ugly, holiday themed aprons amongst the food. “A favor here and there,” Grover nervously looked around, “Just try not to leave the building, it’s dangerous.” he looked at you pointedly, until you reluctantly nodded. 
“Of course, uh,” You saw Nico and Bianca approach from the end of the hallway, “Do you want to join us?” You offered. Grover quickly shook his head. 
“No I uuh-” he stammered, “I have duties- deadlines- uh, yes.” and he took off into the other direction. 
“Who was that?” Nico asked, bouncing on his feet.
“Just a friend who helped set this up,” You opened the door and Bianca and Nico gasped. 
“What is all this stuff?” Bianca looked at the table, slight wonder on her face.
“Hopefully enough to make gingerbread houses!” You smiled, elated to find pre-baked gingerbread house kits in the middle of the table, “Let’s get the holidays going!”
After you explained the steps of making a gingerbread house, and assuring Bianca that glue would not make the process easier (it would but where is the fun in that?), you got started on the houses. Throughout the decorating you would talk about different holiday traditions you used to have, elaborating there where it was necessary. You supposed they hadn’t celebrated Christmas after getting to the U.S.A., which was kinda weird but you shrugged it off and kept talking. 
“I mean, Santa Claus delivers presents all over the world!” You announced giddy, only for Bianca’s eyes to widen as she quickly spoke up. 
“Yes, but he gets help by La Befana in Italy, for example,” she laughed awkwardly, “Of course, the whole world by one person would be too much!” You eyed Bianca in surprise, but before you got interrupted before you could ask about it. 
“That is so cool!” Nico jumped up, “I had never heard of Santa, but it makes sense!” He smiled widely. Ah, Nico must still believe in Santa, or whoever the Italian Santa Claus is.  Nico turned around his gingerbread house, “(Y/n), I already made la Befana but can you make Santa too? I want them both in my house, so I get more presents!” 
You looked at Nico’s house, noticing that he made a lady (?) with what is probably a broom. She was standing next to a snowman made out of icing, and there were the smallest penguin looking creatures too. The true stand-out creation was probably the guy, made fully out of yellow icing, holding a staff and having wings on his head. Nico saw you looking, and smiled. 
“I also added Hermes! I mean, the messenger god must have been helping with delivering presents too, right?” His excitement was adorable, and you nodded in agreement. 
“Of course, how else would anyone manage to deliver millions of presents?” You laughed. You grabbed a peppermint and red icing and went to work on adding Santa Claus to Nico’s house. 
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It was getting late, and Nico had already dozed off, half laying on the table. Bianca and you were quietly cleaning up the mess together. As you were leaving, Bianca carrying Nico on her back, Bianca turned to you. 
“Thank you, (Y/n).” Her eyes looked sad, but she smiled, “Adjusting has been hard for us, and I’m really happy that we’re friends.” You smiled back at her. 
“It’s a delight knowing you and Nico, Bianca.” You petted the boy on her back, “I hope we’ll be friends for many years more, maybe make some Christmas traditions ourselves!” 
Bianca smiled, and Nico stirred a little on her back, urging you both to keep walking. Maybe, if things had turned out a little differently, you would have had traditions with the Di Angelo siblings, but as they disappeared from Westover Hall only a few days later, you would never know. You hoped they were alright.
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lilmisssona · 1 month
Text
𓍢ִ໋🀦 CHAPTER 2: WELCOMING 𓍢ִ໋🀦
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𓍢ִ໋🀦 PAIRING: Vampire! Hyunjin × Witch! Fem Reader
𓍢ִ໋🀦 GENRE: Supernatural AU, SMAU, Enemies To Lovers, Murder Mystery AU
𓍢ִ໋🀦 PLOT: You're accepted to The University Of Magicks" You thought it was just a fun prank, a spam ad even. But when you get actually accepted, things start to get real....You move across the country to start your new life, only to get on the nerves of a certain vampire.... Join on this magical journey as you navigate through life, friendships , love and maybe even an ancient curse ??!! Will you be able to thrive or will this be a battle to survive ?
𓍢ִ໋🀦 WORD COUNT: 2K
𓍢ִ໋🀦 A/N: Happy 6 years Stray Kids!!! Time flies and I'm so proud of my boys accomplishing their goals!! q(╥﹏╥)p So, here's a long due update to your fav series! Let Me Know what you think! New chapters every other week ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
𓍢ִ໋🀦 WARNINGS: Hyunjin being a douchebag, platonic friendships.
𓍢ִ໋🀦PREVIOUS|𓍢ִ໋🀦MASTERLIST |𓍢ִ໋🀦NEXT
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋
"We're here!" The carriage came to a halt in front of a dark, quaint forest.
Only the sounds of cicadas and frogs chirping can be heard, with the exception of a massive tree standing in between the pathway.
"But there's no university I see.." you curiously asked Yunjin as you peeked through the curtains at the back.
"Get down and see for yourself!" Karina winked at you again.
You smiled back at her. Looks like she was finally opening up to you.
"Alright" Karina spoke as all of you stepped down. "Follow me through the hole in the tree."
"I see no hole though..." you squint your eyes to focus.
"Hun, magick is when you believe it's true," Yunjin replied to you, smiling.
"Imagine that there's a hole and there shall be." Karina spoke.
"But.." " I never used any magick in my life." you nervously replied.
" In that case, hold our hand and follow us. '' Yunjin replied to you. So you intertwined your fingers with both of them and closed your eyes...
At first you can't hear anything except the occasional chirping of the cicadas and the rustling of the leaves under your feet.
But when you followed them enough to stand in front of the massive tree, that did you begin to feel "it" again.
Your whole body shivered as you focused on your surroundings. Every sound was blocked and now there was pin drop silence around you.
There was a sudden crumbling sound and some shuffling. Slowly all three of you opened your eyes....
"OMG" you put a hand on your mouth and gasped.
"There's a door in the tree now"
"Told ya to believe yourself" Karina smiled at you. The door opened by itself as you three cautiously took a step inside
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋
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"Holy hell" you gasped a little as you looked at the view in front of you…
"Never knew a tree can lead us to this" you beamed.
The whole place looked magnificent. Rows and rows of different houses with a massive fountain in the middle. Laden with beautiful lights. It was as if you're transported to a magical land...
AN: *Ahem* this IS a magical land,literally... 🙄
Narrator: oopsies but anyways...🤷‍♀️
" Welcome To The University yn "
" Let's go inside shall we ?" Yunjin replied to you, smiling.
" Heck yeah!" You replied. All three of you slowly entered the premises of the university....
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋
"And we're going to conduct a..." Hurriedly you three took your seats, as you realised the orientation has already began.
" You are late" The man who was conducting the orientation announced.
" We're sorry, yn was lost and couldn't find us..." You looked at him. Very dark aesthetics yet a charming endeavour he had.
He didn't look much older than you, yet he had an authoritarian figure. The thing you noticed the most was his glowing blue eyes, that had a magical aura around them.
" Nice to meet you yn, I'm Chan, the Captain of the Wolf Packs!"
" Hello, nice to meet you" you smiled, shaking his hand.
" Please take your seats, you'll be assigned to your rooms shortly" Chan replied, guiding you to the rows of seats in front of you.
Thanking him, you three hurriedly shuffled through rows of students, until you get to sit in your assigned seats.
" Now that everyone is here.." The announcer spoke curtly, " I would like to introduce you to your individual house captains."
" Mr. Lee, Ms. Yu, Mr. Bahng and Mr. Hwang, please come to the stage."
You watched with bated breath as the man who introduced himself as Chan walked up to the stage as well as your new friend Karina.
" Karina ?" you curiously asked Yunjin, " Yes, she's the captain of our house, The Witch's Lair." Yunjin replied to you.
You watched as whom you assumed as Mr. Lee, walked up to the stage as well. He had a powerful aura in his face, with a distinctive green eye in his left, which glowed like fire.
" That's Lee Felix, the house captain of the outkasts" Yunjin pointed at him.
"And... that's..." " Where's Hwang ?" Yunjin was surprised as she scanned the room.
" Hwang " that title sounded similiar... " I'm here!!" Someone jumped from behind your seats. You ducked again in fear.
" What the hell dude!" You screamed at the commotion. That person looked behind you... It was him.
THE HWANG HYUNJIN in flesh in front of you.
Suddenly your throat went dry as you looked at him, his ethereal beauty shining even better in real life.
" Sorry sweetheart, but you should really mind whom you're speaking to. " Hyunjin replied to you annoyingly.
" Unless you're a novice which I think you are..." he scoffed as he looked at you up and down. " So I don't think so you know, about us The Elites,..."
" So mind your language hun, and keep your head down, your house is little than us anyway..."
" Hyunjin!" Yunjin spoke harshly. " Why are you being mean to her ? she could've gotten brain damage from your stupid actions. And her poor cat could've gotten hurt. "
" Whatever, I'm getting late for my speech anyways..." Hyunjin rolled his eyes and rushed to the stage. You were left speechless after the conversation...
This is the man whom you stalked through social media ? This guy ?
" He's so full of himself!!" you thought to yourself in frustration.
" Ugh, I'm an idiot" you sighed.
You gulped as you watched him walk up to the stage. " You ok ?" Yunjin asked you, concerned.
" Yeah..." you sighed.
" Don't mind he's just as annoying to everyone here..."
"Hmm, ok" you replied.
You felt dejected from the conversation.
That warm feeling in your heart was crushed as your hope to befriend him, slowly faded away... there was a lump in your throat. you fought back tears.
He was one of the sole reasons to enter the university. That reason now crushed and buried in your mind. " As I was saying..." The announcer spoke, as you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt, to distract yourself.
Ms. Tuna looked at you from her carrier, you shot her a sad smile.
" Mr. Hwang please introduce yourself and your house, "
" Of course Ms. Im." You rolled your eyes as he shone a bright smile at her.
" I am Hwang, Hyunjin Hwang, the leader of your house, the Elites and we believe in sucking the soul out of our enemies. " He smirked a devious smile as he continued.
" Eternity is in our blood and you better not mess with us as the consequences would lead you straight to the gates of hell. " He looked in your direction, smirking. You gulped a little.
" Welcome To all the novice Vampires and Demons your dorms are located at the highest floor of this University..."
The hall erupted in demonic groans and claps as Hyunjin stepped down from his speech.
You scoffed at the commotion.
" Now please welcome, Mr. Bahng your Wolf Pack Leader!" The announcer smiled as Mr. Bahng or Chan as he introduced himself to you and stepped up on the stage for his speech.
You intently watched him as he did. A sudden warmth engulfing you from within.
" Thank you Ms. Im, I am Chan, your leader of the wolf packs. We believe that unity is our strongest forte. "
" Welcome to you all new wolves. Soon you'll be assigned to your individual dorms , that's on the 5th floor, and you'll begin your testing tomorrow to be assigned to your packs. "
Chan bowed shyly and stepped down as all of you applauded him.
" Hey Everyone!" Next it was Karina's turn. You cheered her with praises from your seat. Karina winked at you.
" I'm Karina, the leader of the Witch's Lair and we believe that magick is when you believe in it."
you smiled at her remembering her similar words she spoke to you back there at the tree.
" Welcome my novice witches to your house. "
" Your dorms are on the 4th floor and soon you'll be assigned to your rooms. "
" Go Karina!" you cheered at her as she stepped down from her speech.
" And last but definitely not the least...." the announcer smiled at the half green eyed boy.
" Mr. Lee, please introduce yourself!"
" Hello everyone, I'm Felix, the leader of the outkasts. "
Sudden, giggles and laughter were heard from a distance as he spoke.
You turned your head towards the direction of the sound. It was most definitely the Elites group mocking him.
" Yes, to you elites we might be nothing. " Felix smirked at them.
" But don't think of us as any less."
" We Outkasts believe that every being has magick in it. "
" And every individual is unique to us. " You smiled triumphantly at him as he stood up for his house.
" However small or big they are, it doesn't matter. "
" So all of you are welcome here, your dorms are on the 3rd Floor. "
Roars of applause erupted in the hall as everyone cheered for their individual house captains.
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋
It was already half past 10 as you scurried your way to the dorms. Karina guided your team, as you and Yunjin followed suit.
Slowly she guided and assigned everyone to her rooms. And lastly it was your turn.
" And yn this is our room, with Yunjin of course!" " I'll be living with the captain ? That's so cool!" you brightly smiled at her.
" Well you were a last minute addition so we decided that you'll be with us. " Yunjin smiled at you as she replied.
You opened the carrier and let Ms. Tuna roam around her new surroundings, who already found comfort in a chair in the corner and dozed off.
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Your breath hitched in your throat as you remembered what Sunday was...
It was your birthday and the very day you lost your biological parents.
You exited the chat and excused yourself to go to the washroom. Yunjin and Karina looked at you curiously as you dismissed yourself suddenly.
A knot of dread formed in your stomach as you looked at the face in front of you in the mirror.
" 22 years have passed yet the mention of this day still makes me like this. "
" Why am I so pathetic ? " You silently cried to yourself. " Why can't I enjoy my birthday like normal people..." you sniffled.
" All okay, YN ?" Yunjin knocked at the bathroom door suddenly, startling you.
" Yeah, I'm ok, don't worry. " Quickly you splashed some water on your face to hide the tears and exited the washroom.
" So you're coming right ? " Karina asked you, concerned.
" Y...y..eah of course " you cursed yourself for stuttering as you forced a smile.
" Perfect, what are you wearing ?? '' Yunjin squealed as she twirled you across the room, making the atmosphere lighter with everyone's laughter.
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋
It was Saturday morning and you were already late on your first day.
Scurrying through hundreds of students you made your way to the first class of the morning. Although you're sure you have already missed half of it.
" Ouch!" suddenly you banged your head onto something hard, making you stumble and slip on the path and spilling all your stuff on the floor.
Internally cursing yourself you started to angrily stuff the contents back into your bag. A chill passed over you when you realised your phone is nowhere to be found.
You panicked and started to recheck the contents of your bag again, when someone tapped on your shoulders.
" Is this what you're looking for ? " you turned around to see the most kind looking stranger looking back at you, smiling.
He was holding your phone and a shiny pen.
" Y...yes thank you so much. " you replied as you got up to greet him.
" Sunghoon."
" YN"
" Beautiful name just like your face..." you blushed a little as he complimented you.
" Nice meeting you Sunghoon and thank you for finding my phone, but now I have to leave as I'm already super late for my first class. "
" Oh, good luck with that! " He waved at you as you rushed to your classes.
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𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋
𓍢ִ໋🀦 OUR ETERNAL ALLIES: @atinyniki @kailee08 @writingforstraykids
@cheesemonky @skzoologist @minholing
@michelle4eve  @jinnie-ret @thatonedemigodfromseoul @silverstarburst @galaxycatdrawz
𓍢ִ໋🀦 NEW RECRUITMENTS: @star92  @arloo00 @dabiscrustyfeet @loxgirl2004 @lakoya @thisrandomgoofy15 @kpopmenace143 @avokralaim @i2nsstuff @yasssposts @kopikokrunch @wa-wandavision @nlr1606 @kangyeonie @niaalove @bellandxx @annybah @kaiyaba @seungminindabuilding
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𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋
𓍢ִ໋🀦 ENDNOTE: Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids.
Make sure to like, reblog, follow and turn your notifications on to get updated whenever I upload a new chapter!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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bymarara · 1 day
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Let's talk about this.
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"The Vanishing of *** Wheeler." - So... Which Wheeler? Mike, Nancy, Holly? I'm leaning towards the last one, but! They all make sense. One can imagine how Vecna, could be after Mike, to at the same time, hurt Will, Al. Or, he could be using Mike as bait to lure them into a trap.
It's also conceivable that Vekna would come after Nancy for revenge because his plan didn't work out as planned, and Nancy, who knew more than anyone, almost killed him at the end of season 4.(But also, it would be as bait for others, a trap to lure them into the Otherworld.)
And the best part. What if it was Holly? Let's look back through all the seasons and realize the fact that she was somehow but connected to the Yznan, she saw a lot of things.
Season 1 - Holly was the one who went to the Byers house to get light bulbs and saw in Demogorgon style (saw somewhere a suggestion that it could even be Vekna, who even then wanted to kidnap her.).
Season 3 - On the Ferris wheel, Holly noticed that the trees were moving and apparently didn't believe her mom that it was the wind. I think Holly sensed something wrong, you know what they say, kids see more than adults.
Season 4 - We're shown that Holly is the first to notice ash from the sky, calling it snow. Once again, she's the first to notice something weird and it's not weird?
I think she's going to play a big role. Holly, Ted's favorite and father, Ted even fell asleep with her in his arms. We're told that Ted and Mike will have some kind of interaction, so why wouldn't it be a conversation like Ted is worried and starts asking Mike what the heck has been going on for years and where is the youngest daughter missing? Also, Holly's disappearance could strengthen the family as everyone will be on the lookout for the girl.
"Escape from Camazotz" - I think this is going to be a clash of the Bylers. We all know that the Bylers will likely have some sort of tension, but we know that they will most likely be Endgame this season. There are rumors and theories that the Bylers will become canon in episode 7. I think this all makes sense since we haven't been given the title of the last two episodes because they could be a huge spoiler.
" Sorcerer." - I can very likely tell you what was going on in Yznanka with him 1983. We'll be shown this with flashbacks that may show Vecna for some purpose, perhaps to get him to his side and show how similar they all are. Also, maybe it will show us that Will has the ability to hear and sense Vecna. Because of that, everyone might be afraid of him, since he can play both sides, or even if it's not him anymore, they might be afraid of him being evil. Mike and Joyce will be reminded of the events of season 2 and assure them that Will is fine.
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spookemsdukems · 1 month
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KICKS DOWN THE DOOR After a long while of my computer being in the shop I gots it back and what did I do immediately?? DRAW MORE FAN KIDS, I ended up getting so invested in them that I did not make any actual fan kids from MTAS and just fellow pals OCs asdfghjkl BUT HERE WE GO!!! AHEM AHEM From Left to right Boulder (the Onyx x Builder kiddo) @florisam
He's a happy go lucky lil man who hides his eyes cause they spooky a lot of people, just like both Mom's <3 He likes scarabs and beetles and collects bugs and is very good at building little houses for them!! My soft son with sharp teef
Alouette (the Aerie x "Builder" kiddo) @illusidy
She is a chill girl, just likes laying on rocks and watching the clouds go by. She's a bit quirky?? Tilts her head at unnatural angles when no one is looking and just stares... a lot. But she's so cute : D so don't be freaked out when you see her glowing eyes at night.
!!DOUBLE TROUBLE!! Maverick and Calla (the Aka x "Builder") fan kiddos @oxalisworks
The names are place holders cause I dunno how to name kids asdfghjkl but BOY ARE THEY PRETTY!!! Mave is just a suave but terrible at being genuinely normal, he has weird hecking hair like his pops and is more cunning then anything. Calla is a grumpy baby girl who wants to adventure but has 0 sense of direction and gets lost ALL the time. She has a lil whistle to blow so that people can come find her lmao Anemone (Skye x "Builder) fan kiddo!! @neonlightsblog Let it be known she doesn't hate you, she just has RBF and doesn't want to talk to you unless you talk to her first. A picky girl who loves Moms but also gets tired of how weird her eyes are because of them. Tries her HARDEST to be super normal, but let's be honest she probably has some weird traits to. (Def licks rocks and the air sometimes to figure out if its going to rain)
Noelle (the Daeth x "Builder") Fan kiddo! @tyesteban
She hates you actually. Literally do not talk to her unless you are her dad or mom. Sunburns super easy and gets heat stroke even easier. She is rather delicate but also grows to be pretty tall?? She is the western goth we have all been waiting for. She prefers wearing black because it traps the heat in and she likes to be warm like Mom, but doesn't want to be caught laying on a rock or the roof. Carmin (the Valentine x "Builder") Fan kiddo!! @sunstream7 Perhaps the most ENERGETIC of the bunch!!! He loves running around in circles and loves loves?? Ok, he is the kid who meets you and says "Bye I love you have a good day : D" he's got a bit of a lisp cause of the teeth! A charming goober who needs to have eyes and hands on him at all times or else he will be found in a tree or on the roof or- OH mY GOD GET OFF THE STATUE OF PEACH???
LET IT BE KNOWN!!! All these kids?? Eyes glow in the dark. Is it freaky?? Yes. Is it just like mom?? Also yes :>
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Happy Hanukkah-Mas! - A Beth and Alfie Solomons One Shot Story.
They're baaaack! I absolutely adored returning to their world for a little one-off treat, guys, and hope you all love catching up with them again, too. Enjoy :)
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Words - 7,478
Warnings - Fluff and smut, lots of it! Minors DNI!
There is much as a mother that I feel my arm in perpetual twist over, my emotions stirred by the large, slate blue eyes of my son, Abe and my daughter, Flora. They truly do know how to get around their father and I with such insufferably effective cuteness. The celebration of Christmas in our Jewish household is just one of those arm twisting, big, cute eye pleading moments that I speak of. 
Although my husband and I are very liberal in our faith, not anywhere as stalwart in our Jewishness as generations gone by (heck, even my beloved bubbe has a tiny Christmas tree and Father Christmas themed decorations!) we do enjoy observing the traditions of Hanukkah, especially passing this onto our children. We light the menorah and recite our blessings before taking to the kitchen and getting into a god-almighty mess while preparing the latkes and jellied doughnuts.  
Let it be known here that Bethany Solomons and deep frying do not exactly go hand in hand.  
Up until their respective ages of five and two, the children seemed perfectly content to revel in our deep frying, dreidel playing, menorah lighting and song singing traditions. That was until these tiny souls began noticing the traditions of their friends slightly differed from ours. Suddenly, there was talk of turkey and tinsel, of baubles and a large, fresh scented tree. Father Christmas was a name that began to be spoken more freely.  
In fact, it was Flora who changed the tides there while scrambling onto her daddy’s lap one evening when she was two, tiny hands fiddling with his beard as she went through her nightly routine of ‘let’s ask daddy as many questions as humanely possible’ where one particularly struck my husband in a direct hit to the heartstrings.  
“Daddy, Father Christmas doesn’t come to our house. Is that because we’re bad children? We’re on the naughty list, aren’t we?” 
To watch him sit there, his eyes glassing as he tried not to allow for his emotions to be so heavily stirred by our youngest was something I could not endure without shoving my nose into a nearby magazine in order to hide my own tears.  
“Nah, my little peach,” he’d eventually offered, after swallowing a lump in his throat he likened to the size of Cyril, our beloved sixty-kilogram bullmastiff. “It’s just that we believe different traditions, innit? You’re only on the naughty list when you’re running around here covered in chocolate and refusing to get in the bath, ain’t ya?” 
He’d then tickled her into submission, or so he’d thought. Flora, just like the man whose lap she was sat upon at the time, is nothing short of persistent in the pursuit of achieving an end goal. After Abe had returned home from his karate class, he too joined in.  
Never let it be said that my offspring cannot work as an effective emotional tag team. Our first Christmas tree was purchased the following afternoon. Cyril duly lifted his leg to it. Alfie was incensed. The children scream laughed. All was well, if not a little soggy.  
Happy Hanukkah-Mas, everyone! 
Taking a pause from typing, Beth reached for her wine, the kitchen quiet and fresh smelling after her efforts in deep cleaning had left everywhere sparkling. It was that time of year again, where the Solomons clan began their dual holiday festivities, the nine days of their Hanukkah coming to a close, ready to pave the way for all things Christmas. 
“No peeing up the tree this year, matey.” she spoke, her hand reaching for the soft crinkles of Cyril’s muzzle, her faithful old companion sniffing her fingers as she offered him fuss. She could barely believe he was twelve, an age almost unheard of for a bullmastiff to reach.  
The giant dog now lived a much more leisurely pace, long walks replaced now by a little trot around the block, the dog returning to lie himself in the middle of the welcome hall and huff about it for a good ten minutes before he’d wander off, usually in search of the children.  
If Cyril’s heart beat for anything other than a good marrow bone from the butchers, it was Abe and Flora. Beth honestly feared for the day they would come to lose him, knowing the devastation that would befall the family to be bereft of their longtime canine companion. He was more than that to them, though.  
Cyril Solomons always was, and always would be their first child. 
“Where’s your dad?” she asked, the dog’s ears pricking as he heaved himself up, ambling out of the kitchen and down to the office, Beth pushing the glass door open.  
“Evening, baby beast.” No, Alfie had never ceased use of the same pet name for her that he’d coined nine years previously, back when they’d first gotten together. “How’s the article going? Nearly done, yeah?” 
She half shrugged with a hum. “About halfway through. I’m bloody knackered, though, so I’ve come to steal you. My tummy is rumbling.” Moving around the desk, she placed her wine down, seating herself in his lap. “What’s with these? These Solomons crinkles you have going on here?” 
Her finger was playfully batted away, her hulking bear of a husband laughing gruffly. “You and your bloody cheek,” he began, kissing her head. “Them lines are the Abe and Flora crinkles these days, them and their fuckin’ demands. Look at this ‘ere, right. She can’t just want the doll you can go to Smyths and buy, can she, your daughter. Nah, gotta want the fuckin’ Rolls bleedin’ Royce of dolls that daddy ‘ere can’t pissing find in stock!” 
He had a penchant for that. When the kids were good, they were their children. When they were causing him mild to moderate strife, they were solely Beth’s.  
Looking at the screen, she shook her head, reaching for the mousse and closing the browser window. “I found it already, it’s on the way from a store in New York. DHL have assured me it’ll arrive by the eighteenth.”  
“Well then why didn’t you fuckin’ tell me, Bethany with the lovely legs? Lovely legs that are gonna catch a right walloping. Sitting here for hours, I’ve been, looking for that fuckin’ doll!” 
“I did!” she exclaimed, slapping his hand as he began laying smacks against her thigh. 
“Fuckin’ lies!” 
Leaning in close, she widened her doe eyes, her nose touching his. “I bloody did! Magda will back me up, she was standing right next to me when I told you.” 
Her playful growl was met by muttering and grumbling. “Moody sod.” 
“Yeah, but you love me, treacle,” he chirped, Beth leaning to kiss his cheek.  
“That I do. Now, come on. I meant it when I said my tummy was rumbling, so you need to emerge.” Picking up her wine, she slid back to her feet, Alfie wheeling his chair closer to the desk once more.  
“I’ve just got one email I need to...” 
“Alfie,” she warned. 
“Five minutes, darlin’. You go order the food. Get us a chicken madras, a keema naan and all the dippy stuff with the poppadom's. Go on, go be a crackin’ wife and order in all the nosh that’ll have me farting like bagpipes for the next day or so.” 
She threw her head back, her laugh loud. “Five minutes, or I deliberately wake Abe and get him to come in and ask you all about where babies come from.” 
“You bloody dare,” he warned, Beth leaning back around the office door. 
“Don’t try me, boo.” Poking her tongue out, she giggled, heading back into the kitchen and taking a seat once more, putting in their order with the Royal Bengal before tapping away a little more of her article. She’d just closed her laptop when Alfie joined her, pulling a bottle of San Pelegrino from the fridge and splashing it into a glass, adding ice while telling her about his working day.  
Since becoming a father, he’d done what nobody expected and actually relinquished a little control over his empire, allowing those he employed to get stuck in with the lion’s share of the day-to-day operations, in order to be present for his children. Losing his own father so young had made him realise just what he’d missed growing up, now he had little ones of his own.  
The kitchen was soon filled with the aromas of India, Beth adding everything to bowls, Alfie hindering her every step of the way, and Cyril hopeful that a few morsels might be dropped upon the floor.  
“It’s nice to be able to have a bowl of samosas out and not have to fight off tiny hands for them,” she mused, picking one up and dunking it into the mint dip.  
“And then only half eating them, storing the fuckin’ things away behind cushions and in shoes an’ all that,” Alfie spoke through a mouthful of poppadom, shaking his head. “Them bloody kids. Wouldn’t have ‘em any other way, though.” 
Neither would she. They were loud and boisterous, but that came with the territory. Seven and four years old meant a perpetual state of noisy. Those noisy states were out of the front door at nine the following morning, both off to their bubbe Solomon’s house for the morning. Beth dropped them with Sarra at just gone half past, leaving her to fight the traffic to head over to Primrose Hill, her breakfast date already there waiting for her.  
“Oh babe!” she cried, opening her arms to Mimi as she rose from the table. “I thought you were bringing the baby? Aww, I was looking forward to a little smush!” 
“No, she barely slept all night, so I’ve left her with Josh and a tonne of expressed milk. Bloody boobs are so sore, and I thought having implants was bad!” Kissing her cheek, Mimi then gestured to the table, a latte waiting for her. “Thought I’d order that in for you. I might be a knackered new mummy, but at least I remembered my erm...” she trailed off, winding her hand around as she thought on the word. “I always want to say my Antoinette, but she was a queen.” 
“Etiquette?” Beth offered, Mimi snapping her fingers. 
“That’s it!” 
Some things never changed.  
“So, how have you been, other than tired with sore boobs? I bloody remember that only too well, Mims,” she spoke, picking up her latte and giving it a cautionary blow before taking her first sip. Ahhh, a double shot. Heaven. How well her beloved Mims knew her.  
“I’ve been alright, you know,” she began, perusing the menu before her. “I mean, a woman can function perfectly well on ten minutes of sleep a night, can’t she?”  
“And if she can’t she gets used to it pretty flipping quick,” Beth quipped, making her decision over breakfast quickly. Pancakes with turkey bacon and eggs. She was famished. “How did your check-up go? Are all the sore bits healing nicely?” 
Both women had suffered quite badly during childbirth, Beth’s experience with Abe something so terrible, she very nearly elected a C-Section for Flora. Her midwife had advised her against such, though, stating a natural birth would be much better when she was fully fit and capable. Flora had been a blessing, thankfully, a speed birth of half an hour in active labour, her little girl out in six pushes.  
Mimi nodded as she sipped her orange juice, setting the tall glass back down. “Everything is healing as it should be, and I should be fine to ride again soon!” She’d kept her beloved horses, Bryn and Sunny, thinking at first that she would put them out on loan for a time to someone with enough of that very commodity to devote to them. That was until her darling friends had stepped in to help, Beth and Kinga appointing themselves as exercisers of Mimi’s four-legged friends.  
Being a much more skilled horsewoman than she had been nine years before upon first meeting Mimi, Bryn and all of his naughtiness was appointed to her, Kinga more novice and being tasked with Sunny’s exercise. They went most days in the afternoon, the people at the stables where they were kept taking on their day-to-day care.  
It was one of Beth’s favourite parts of the day, riding out over the fields after lunch aboard Bryn, or working him over eye wateringly huge fences in the arena, the likes of which she once never thought she’d have the bravery to attempt. 
Mimi had taught her well.  
“Oh, before I forget, give these to Magda before she raises merry hell with me,” Mimi then spoke, picking up a bag from her feet and passing it across to Beth. “She loaned me these for Josh’s office Christmas do. It was such a nice night, made even better for wearing a pair of this season’s Louis Vuitton’s on my feet!” 
Yes, Magda would indeed raise merry hell if any loans from her beloved wardrobe department were not returned promptly. Beth took the bag with a smile, placing it down beside her favourite bag of all time beneath the table, the dark blue Birkin Alfie had bought her all those years ago. She still had to shake her head in wonder sometimes, being a woman of such staggering wealth because of whom she was married to.  
Her world had blended with Alfie’s so effortlessly, it often felt like a dream to her still. There she was, with one of the women he’d once dated, Mimi now a married mother herself and long fully integrated within Beth’s friendship group as well as still being – as Alfie always worded it - ‘the bestest mate a fella could ask for.’ After Josh and her mum, Alfie had been the first she’d called upon finding out she was pregnant with her now eight-week-old daughter, Alissia.  
“How did you cope, being away from Liss for a few hours?” she asked with a smile.  
Mimi looked pained immediately. “I hated it! I missed her so much, and I know she was perfectly fine with Josh’s mum, but it didn’t feel right, not having a little bundle in my arms!”  
She remembered it well with Abe, becoming very emotional on her first night out with Alfie after he’d been born, being left in the care of his godparents, Magda and Dennis. Magda had switched her phone off in the end, Beth had called so incessantly to make sure he was okay. ‘You’ll bloody wake the little fella if you keep on calling me! He's fast asleep on Dennis’s chest, just threw up a load of milk all over the dog an’ all. Having a wail of time, he is!’ she remembered being assured.  
Moving their discussion on, both pledging they would never be the kind of women who couldn’t form conversation over anything other than their children, they sat and spoke about all sorts while catching up, Beth’s most recent articles, Mimi’s tentative plans to begin her own accounting business so that she could circumvent a return to office life and instead, work from home and be with her baby. With Josh earning so well now within the publishing world, her return to work truly didn’t need to be expedited quickly either.  
After breakfast, they made time to pamper themselves with a little salon treat, Mimi having a much-needed deep cleansing facial while Beth opted for a massage, wanting to be nice and relaxed for what would likely turn into a chaotic afternoon. It was Christmas tree shopping day, meaning that her children would go from their usual volume of eight right up to eight thousand, such was their excitement at the fairly new tradition.  
“Oi! Abraham Solomons, I see you back there, winding your sister up!” Alfie shouted, looking in the rearview mirror of his Range Rover two hours later, en route from his mother’s house to the garden centre.  
“She’s kicking me, dad!” 
“She can’t even reach you over there, mate. Nah, don’t you tell me no fibs, or this car gets turned around, right?”  
“But dad!” 
“Enough, my son!” 
Abe shrank down in his car seat with a scowl that was a hundred percent his father, Beth turning to give him a warning look that eventually turned into a smile. The Solomons crinkles were very much a hereditary thing. “Be a good boy.” she cooed, grabbing his foot and giving it a shake. Flora was asleep after ten minutes, Abe entertaining himself by narrating a commentary about the people they drove past in the streets, pulling up outside Birchen Grove Garden Centre after twenty minutes.  
“Come on, Flora snorer,” Alfie chimed, rousing his sleepy youngest. The noises that came from that child while she was sleeping. Beth had nearly haemorrhaged from laughter when he’d likened the sounds to ‘that geezer from the Police Academy films’ back when she was a baby. “Come on, my little peach. Let’s look lively, yeah?” 
“No daddy, I want naps!” she protested, Beth being dragged to examine a display of Christmas wreaths by a much spritelier Abe. 
“Child, you’d sleep your life away if we left ya to it. Come on, daddy’ll play pack horse and carry ya.”  
“Okay.” Immediately she reached for him, beaming as she buried her face against his neck. He gave it all of three minutes, the shiny bright of the garden centre’s Christmas displays delighting her eyes so much, she was scrambling to the floor and running off with her brother.  
“Breakage expenditures guesstimate?” Beth quipped, raising an eyebrow as they ran for a display in excited frenzy.  
“Bloody zero!” he bellowed, making a lady walking past him jump. “Go on, get over there and round up ya kids, duchess. I’ll go sort the tree.”  
She rolled her eyes. “Always my kids when they’re being disruptive.” She strode off, not before Alfie aimed a perfect smack to her bum, calling her little ones away from the glass baubles and trinkets, grabbing a basket on her way. She sensed more ornaments would be chosen, and she wasn’t wrong. At least they kept on brand with the theme of green, blue and silver, though.  
“Abraham!” Alfie barked, appearing with a Christmas tree over his shoulder a short time later, finding his son meddling with the nativity display. “Put the false prophet down, son.”  
Beth cringed, shielding her eyes for a moment beneath her hand as her husband drew disapproving stares, Abe unceremoniously returning to the baby Jesus doll back into the manger with all the passion of LeBron James performing a slam dunk.  
“Do you have to be so vociferously Jewish in your denouncing of the Christian lord and saviour?” she hissed, Alfie beaming. 
“Yeah, darlin’,” he laughed, scratching his beard with his free hand. “I bloody do!” 
Herding the children in the direction of the sales desk, she offered appeasing smiles to those offended by her husband and his boom. “Oy fucking vey.” 
Once the tree had been affixed to the roof, the children and purchases packed away, the family Solomons headed to lunch, the little ones making their demands known for a trip to Five Guys. Burgers often worked very well in placation, especially since Beth had designs on dragging her family to do a little bit of shopping afterwards. Kids with full tummies were often slowed down a tad by the weight of their meal.  
While Alfie was having his ear and wallet bended by two very enthusiastic children at the Hotel Chocolat shop, Beth moved down through the shopping mall a little, coming to a small nostalgia store. Since celebrating Christmas was mostly for the children’s benefit, she and Alfie didn’t exchange gifts for one another, but what she saw in the window swiftly negated that.  
“I’ll take them both, please.” she spoke to the sales assistant, hardly able to keep her giggles in as she watched him retrieve the two Ren and Stimpy plush toys from the window display. She would never forget how hard she had laughed all those years ago, when she and Alfie had gotten stoned together one evening, back when the lines between journalist and subject were becoming blurred.  
“Do you mean Ren, as in Ren and Stimpy?” 
“Yeah, the little angry weasel, or whatever he was.” 
The little angry weasel. The memory still brought her the same feelings of hilarity as they’d shared out in the garden of their home, when they were just beginning to fall for one another. She remembered it well, how she’d sat there with him, smoking weed while inwardly lamenting how unfair it was, to have met her perfect person, but with a very imperfect set of terms and conditions that went hand in hand with dating him.  
She couldn’t imagine her life now, should Alfie not have changed his mind. It often made her feel a pit in her stomach, if she thought on it for too long, being driven out of his life in that Uber, Alfie remaining with someone as deadly as Amira had proved herself to eventually be. Thankfully, the unhinged woman who had almost killed her remained languishing within a prison cell to that day.  
Yes, Beth kept tabs on her, just in case she had qualified for parole ahead of the recommended ten years post-sentencing. She couldn’t not now she was a mother, something within not trusting that her long custodial sentence would change her feelings towards her; or pose a risk to the safety of her children upon her release.  
Shaking the less warming thoughts of their past from her mind, she paid for her purchase and left the shop, popping into the Elemis store quickly to repurchase her skincare goodies, before she was met by her husband and two chocolate wielding children.  
The drive home was uneventful, the kids once again on excited mode as soon as they stepped foot into the house, hurling themselves at the many boxes Beth had brought up from the wine cellar the night before containing the Christmas decorations. With the tree placed into the stand, protective netting cut and two shrieking children armed with ornaments, Alfie stood back and watched the scene for a few moments, grinning adoringly at his little family.  
“Let me go and get a few work things done so I ain’t worrying about ‘em all weekend,” he spoke, giving her a little nod. “I’ll fetch you a Merlot on me way back, duchess.” She turned to blow him a kiss before he left the lounge, his grin still firmly in place as he headed down to the office, playing catch up on a few pressing demands on his time for half an hour. 
He then headed to the kitchen, preparing himself a coffee and sorting Cyril’s dinner once he got there. 4:47pm on a Saturday. That time nine years ago would usually mean the house was full of the hustle and bustle of various women getting ready, him returning from a leisurely dog walk and doing a quick bit of business prior to taking his three girlfriends’ out to somewhere fancy. 
How things had changed, and all for the better. 
On that particular Saturday evening, they were playing gracious hosts to Magda and Dennis, their friends coming over for dinner in a few hours, Alfie lifting the lid on the crockpot and giving the beef Bourguignon that had been slow cooking all day a good stir. Nobody cooked like his mother, but bloody hell, Beth gave her a run for her money.  
Furnished with a coffee, he took the large glass of wine through, handing it to his wife with a kiss. “You’ve done a cracking job with that, as usual.” Nodding toward the Christmas tree, he smiled, Beth leaning back into his embrace as Abe flicked the socket, all the warm white lights twinkling into glittered life.  
He might have complained, but beneath the layers of outward distain, he secretly loved Christmas just as much as he did Hanukkah. The joy it brought to his children was immeasurable, and for them, he would move the earth. Putting up a tree, buying gifts and having a nice turkey roast were small by comparison.  
After the decorations had been carefully laid out, Beth placing winter spice wax melts into the burners dotted around the home and running the vacuum around, the kids made their demands for dinner, Alfie sorting them with their request for fish fingers while Beth went to put the clean laundry away and run herself a bath.  
By the time she was done, she refilled the tub for the children, drying her hair while Alfie put himself on bathtime duty.  
“Daddy, look! You’re Father Christmas now!” Flora chirped, giggling as she covered his beard in a barrage of bubbles from the tub.  
“Nah, I ain’t! I’m not that old, and me belly ain’t that big either!”  
She was quick in her cheekily delivered comeback. “Yeah, it is.” 
“Oi!” he growled, picking up the small bucket bath toy and emptying it over her head. “Less of that, or I’m phoning Father Christmas and telling him not to drop by here on Christmas Eve, right?” 
Flora was aghast, Abe tittering to himself. “You wouldn’t, daddy!” 
“Yeah?” he spoke, reaching for the kid’s shampoo. “I do a hundred sit ups a day to make sure I ain’t got no Father Christmas belly, so you’ll cast your aspersions elsewhere, you hear me?”  
“Daddy, daddy,” she began, Alfie beginning to lather her hair. “Are aspersions what mummy makes with the cheese and butter?” 
He and Beth snorted with laughter immediately. “No, little babe. That’s asparagus.” 
“Oh!”  
“Blimey, she’s Mims mark two.” Beth laughed, shaking her head as she finished drying her hair. Once bath fresh and towel swathed, the children were dried and dressed in their pyjamas, both gladly going to bed with little protest. This left the couple with approximately ten minutes to get changed, Alfie sauntering around their ensuite naked as the day he was born, hampering Beth’s progress with her makeup.  
“Got time for a quickie?” 
She scoffed, loading her blusher brush and giving it a little tap. “Darling, with you there’s no such thing. Besides, they’ll be here in less than five minutes, and I’ve got to get the starter in the oven.” Turning around, she sighed painedly, looking down to see a certain part of her husband pointing right at her. “Later. Promise.”  
Giving his cock a good squeeze, she evoked his rumbling groan, delighting his neck with a little nibble before heading into the walk in, pulling on her underwear, grey flared trousers and a simple cropped white sweater. She then remembered her meal choice and changed it for black. There was no way she fancied trying to get Bourguignon sauce out of pale cashmere, she thought, racing when she heard the doorbell chime. 
Clipping her gold hoop earrings in, she was just alighting the stairs when the bell sounded for a second time, Beth jogging down the remainder and jumping over a snoozing Cyril.  
“Where you bloody been?” Magda charged, kissing her cheek. “Shagging, were ya?” 
“Almost,” she winked, reaching to kiss Dennis and take the bottle of Bollinger he carried with him with thanks.  
“Sold that Aston Martin this morning, so I thought we’d celebrate, love,” he spoke, Beth congratulating him as she swung the door shut behind them, Cyril heaving himself up to welcome their guests. “Hello, old lad. Claus sends his regards.”  
Out of their four rottweilers, Claus was the only one who remained, just turned nine and much like Cyril, a lot slower on his feet. It didn’t stop him from showing their two newer dogs who was boss, though, the couple switching from their preferred breed when two beautiful Staffordshire bull terriers had come up for adoption at Battersea Dog’s Home. Magda had triumphed in bending Dennis’s ear about it until he’d finally relented, bringing home Marley and Karma almost two years ago.  
“Where’s me kids?” the lady herself cried, noticing the lounge empty of small people. 
“We put ‘em to bed, or if they’d seen their auntie there’s no way we’d ever have got them to go willingly,” Alfie spoke, opening his arms as he entered the lounge. “How are ya, Mags? Lookin’ gorgeous as ever.”  
“They’re half the flippin’ reason I came!” she joked, kissing his cheek. “And thanks, you nearly had me here in joggers and a t shirt. Been up to my fucking eyes with it all day, I have. Inventory. Beth! Has our Mimi brought them bloody shoes back, or have I got to go up Primrose Hill and lynch the soppy mare for ‘em? Had to include ‘em on the list without ‘em actually being there to save me flippin’ hide!” 
She breathed a sigh of relief when her bestie lifted the bag from behind the sofa, pointing to it. “Come on, come tell me all about your wardrobe woes while I get this champagne on ice.” 
Magda did not disappoint. The inventory of the wardrobe department was a huge undertaking, Magda spending the four days it took before everything was cleared ready for the new season’s attire to fill her sacred space catalogued and cleared out, the items heading back to their respective fashion houses.  
“So I’m there, right, and I’m yelling at the dopey cow that two C’s mean Chanel and two G’s mean Gucci, and if she can’t work that out then why the fuck is she trying to carve out a career in fashion in the first flippin’ place! Told her to go get me bloody coffee and have a think about it while she was gone. Honestly, these flamin’ bloody bastard people they send me to train!”  
Some things truly never did change. Magda had not softened at all, and Beth still found much entertainment in her various tirades against the newcomers to ELLE magazine. “And you wanna know the best part? Only fucking walks past Ralph Lauren during his visit and asks who he is!” 
Beth was aghast. “You’re bloody joking me!” 
“Babe, I nearly fell through the fucking floor!” Taking the champagne handed to her with thanks, she toasted her, pulling her cigarettes from her bag. “Just going for a quick smoke, back in a flash.”  
They had a truly lovely evening together, all discussing their impending break out to Santorini to escape the cold grey that was a winter in London, heading over for a week the day after Boxing Day, wanting to see in the New Year in the sunshine at Beth and Alfie’s luxurious villa.  
“I’ll still never forgive you, mate. Stoned and naked, chasing me down, you twat,” Dennis remarked, remembering back to the first time he and Magda had visited the island to stay within Alfie’s abode, the man himself roaring with laughter at the memory. God, it felt like it had been yesterday, yet nine long, fun filled years had passed in the time between.  
“At least you didn’t have him rubbing his cock all over your leg!” Magda snorted, Alfie winking. 
“Don’t pretend you didn’t bloody love it, Mags!” She pulled a kissy face at him, lifting her wine glass and taking a big gulp, washing down the remainer of her food. Beth truly had done a splendid job with everything.  
The pair stayed for coffee before heading home, Beth loading the dishwasher while humming to music playing on her phone, the feel of Alfie’s hands rubbing over her bum signalling his arrival in the kitchen.  
“Right, now it’s just us and you’ve got the dishes all seen to, it’s someone else’s turn for a bloody good seeing to. Know what I mean, treacle?”  
Oh, how she did.  
She only just about had the chance to add a tablet into the slot and kick the door shut before she was thrown over his shoulder, squealing as he smacked her bum with every step that took them up to their bedroom.  
They tumbled into a kiss, greedy, sinful, longing. All that they had once been hadn’t been diminished by marriage, children or time, their fires still burning as brightly as ever for one another. Making short work of their undress, they hit the bed in a tangle of limbs, Alfie quickly extracting himself to go and flick the lock on the bedroom door, save another embarrassed explanation to Abe over what they were doing.  
“Were you and mum wrestling?” the little lad had inquired, after his parents had hastily dressed upon the morning they’d been caught at it, back when he was five. 
Alfie had never cringed so hard in all his life. “Somat like that, my son.” It had been down to Beth to tentatively explain the birds and the bees, Alfie making himself scarce at speed. 
With any entry from small people prevented, he returned to the bed, grabbing Beth’s legs and lying himself between them, his mouth returning to hers with a hungry grunt. The noise had sparks fluttering through her core, the sound of her husband stirred by passion causing tingles to spark, the scent of her arousal intoxicating to him, his hand sliding down her body to cup at her. She gasped, biting his lower lip before their tongues danced wickedly again, a thick finger swiping at her folds, feeling her petals, the heat of her magmatic against him as he explored.   
“Been wanting this all fuckin’ evening, baby beast.” he panted, mouth slipping to her neck, pressing sumptuous, full-lipped kisses that made her shiver like a summer rose touched by the first chill of autumnal frost. 
A sob welled in her throat, pouring from her like wine as that thick digit pushed within, her glistening walls hugging upon it, eyes a burn of blue fire, body keening against his. God, how she still craved him with such unbridled hunger, their connection every inch as magmatic as it had ever been. She rocked against his hand, greedy for more, a second finger joining the first as he held her neck and returned his lips to hers, kissing her with unmatched thirst. 
He was rigid as iron against her hip, her hands smoothing over tattooed flesh, his muscles cording beneath her touch. She grasped him, pulling upward on his cock, sending a ripple through him that caused his chest to jolt. There was no touch more perfect than that of his wife. He breathed raggedly against the swirl of her tongue, head dipping, teeth sharp at her nipples in turn, fingers curling within her soaking cunt to rake exactly where she needed them to.  
She gasped words of longing, Alfie’s mouth descending in a path of loving, heated kisses, the taste of her skin like sweet berries upon his tongue, every touch a constellation laid over her pale curves, igniting her lust to burn like a forest fire. 
Her sex called to him like a siren through a dark, misty night, polarizing, screaming to him, his mouth descending to feast upon her. Closing his full lips around her glistening folds, he sucked upon her hungrily, the elixir of her pouring into his mouth as he tasted her, lost himself to her, felt himself burn to hear the aroused cadence of his beautiful wife.   
She tasted like sharp honey, womanly nectar seeping onto his tongue as he lapped at her in greed, craving more as he buried his mouth against her, her pale legs virtually knotting themselves around his head. Her wail filled the room in soft song, and the sound burned the edges of his very marrow, his heart skipping beats. 
Her hips rucked against his face, a rush of heat evoked by his tongue tracing never ending circles at her clit making her glow, the pleasure biting and throbbing, his hands roaming her all over. She felt besieged by all he bestowed upon her, the touch familiar but never boring. It never was with Alfie. Monotony was not a word heard of within their bedroom. 
Driving his tongue harder against her potent bundle, feeling the little bud beginning to quake under the unrelenting licks, he watched her, her body quivering as he caused a caustic rush. Glimmers began to skitter through her as he brought her to the brink of it, Beth teetering as he paused in tease, gently blowing upon her clit before sucking once again.  
She came apart with a feral cry, her thighs rigid, panting as her release washed over her in ceaseless waves. His lips tended a diligent path back to her mouth, cock daggering into her trembling centre, a rumbled gasp floating from his mouth to hers as he felt her walls fluttering around his girth.   
He stretched and filled her, hands weaving through the long dark of her hair, Beth moaning against each sweet kiss offered, tasting herself upon his mouth. The very flesh and blood of him drew out the primal need within her to give him everything and take what he so willingly poured into her. 
Their intense love and lust for one another collided in perfect alchemy, her slippery walls flexing around him as she glossed the thick cock splitting her wide, her wails like celestial music drifting into his mind as she wrapped her beautiful legs around him. Pushing into his chest, she turned him, Alfie hitting the bed with a thud and a chuckle.  
“Oh, so the duchess wants to be in charge for a bit, ay?”  
She grinned, leaning to him, offering kisses steeped in smoking honey. “Well, if there’s one person you relinquish control for.” 
She began to move against him with tantalising allure, her hips circling as she bore down on his length, little pricks of pleasure melting down her spine. It took diligence, but he was soon a mess beneath her, sweat streaking his tattooed flesh, his cock throbbing within the clench of her walls. Her movements became more focused, wanting to send him reeling into the blinding eclipse of pleasure, feel his enormity crest beneath her.   
The soaking clench of her cunt fluttered strongly around him, the pressure perfect as he felt it crackle furiously before the fire ripped through him completely. With his cock pulsing, he filled her of all which she milked from him, his head thudding back against the bed, gritted teeth finally relaxing as he swam in ecstasy.  
His soul floated somewhere above him, rendered a shaking wreck by her, colours illuminating behind his closed eyelids, everything fluid as the waves continued to wash through him, his heart thundering. She gentled her motions, coming to a stop, her walls flexing around him, but not in the same way as he knew would have had she reached the same cataclysmic finish as he, and for that, he would make much amends. 
They lay stroking one another, chattering, laughing as the night hours drew out. He needed a little more recovery time, now he’d hit his mid-forties, but once that was attained... 
Beth shrieked loudly as her back hit the bedroom wall, glad the children’s bedrooms were a fair enough distance for her yelp not to wake them, laughing excitedly. His mouth covered hers, her legs firm in their hug around his waist as his hands glided over her sweat slicked hair, hips beginning to drive forth into her burning centre. 
She wailed at the fever-hot intrusion of him, merciless in his delivery, fucked hard and fast against the wall coated in luxury paint. His groans spilled onto her tongue, swirling with his, her moans arrowing into the epicentre of his lust for her as he drove into her like a piston. 
Her elegant, dark red nails clawed at his back, marking him, the sting both sharp and sweet as he persisted in frantically building her up to inferno. For him, she would burn to her very bones and back. He’d never accepted any less. 
Alfie never would either. 
Her cries of abandon filled the air as he slowed his rhythm, backing off from a frenzied, merciless pounding of her cunt to a slow, purposeful movement, dragging every girthy inch of his cock in a sumptuously slow glide against her twitching walls.  
Spearing her again hard, he reached her hilt and shuddered with overwhelming desire, arms snaking beneath her trembling thighs to spread her wider, allowing him to bottom out deeper, filling her to the very summit of her cunt. He then slowed, everything potently drawn out, the tempest swirling slowly, but by no means less brutally.  
He was soaked in her slick, her walls hugging him snugly as he withdrew slowly once again, his cock glistening in the low light. It was almost too much to withstand for him, how hot she smouldered all over, but nowhere more so than her cunt. She was like magma around him, without the pain of an unhealable burn.   
Alternating, he drove into her hard again, balls smacking against her with a lewd slap as he began to fuck her frenziedly, Beth demanding he go harder, her nails once again clawing like a feral feline as she felt her ascension flood her body. Sparks skittered through her, her release the full moon rising over his dark horizon as she came apart for him with maddening intensity.   
He pounded her voraciously, giving her no time to recover from his afflictions, fucking her with consuming vigour. Her aroused cries grew louder, her voice breaking with fervour, each thrust the ignition for lightning to begin darting up her spine once more.    
“That’s it, baby. Come again for me.” He growled low in her ear, tongue brushing her throat and his hand fisting her clammy hair to yank her head back, the howl of release reverberating through his ear as his teeth implanted themselves into her shoulder, the pain adding to the overwhelming pleasure.    
Little tremors wracked his cock as he slowed again, wanting to experience those pleasurable twinges as intensely as possible. Re-establishing the surging pace, he let go of her hair and gripped her shoulders, forcing her to take the full, unyielding brunt of every acerbically delivered thrust.    
His groans were as low as rolling thunder, chasing the next release he knew she had for him. They were slick with sweat, bodies simmering, ready and willing to boil for one another again, the embers of their fuck growing, glowing, the fire roaring through them as he felt himself spill into the viscid clutch of her cunt as she shook hard through her own release.   
They swam in bliss together, alone in the bright light of orgasmic abandon, just him and her entwined, the rest of the world falling away. The sound of her soft exclamations through each laboured gasp brought him back from it, looking at her adoringly.  
“My Bethany. Still a little wild’un, ain’t ya, darlin?” 
Trying to catch her breath, she left out a comic huff, kissing the tip of his nose as he chuckled. “Always am for you, boo.” 
He carried her to the ensuite, both taking a quick, refreshing shower to cleanse the sweat which had beaded them, Beth pulling on a clean nightie and Alfie his pyjama bottoms, unlocking the door on the way back to the bed. Gone were the days of enjoying sleeping with nothing other than each other wrapped around their nakedness, now that they usually had early morning visitors to their bed.  
Whistle, beep, snore, grizzle, whistle, snore. Yes, they could only be the sounds of one person that awoke Alfie at 5:52am the following morning, pulling back the duvet to see Flora snuggled up beside him.  
“Ahh, ‘ello, Officer Jones,” he spoke, stroking her messy hair, Beth snorting with laughter at his side. 
“We have to let them watch those films at some point, they’ll love them,” she spoke, referring to the Police Academy films, one of the characters who of course her daughter seemed to take after in the sound effects department.  
“Yeah, when they’re a bit older,” he agreed, pulling back the duvet to see Abe snuggled in beside his mother. “Ahh, the other one found his way in too. Like homing beacons, innit?” 
Just then, the door was shunted open, their furry child ambling in and jumping up onto the foot of the bed, the family complete. Flora stirred, rubbing her eyes and smiling widely. “Cyril.” she croaked, crawling from under the covers, her fleecy security blanket within her grasp. Plonking herself down next to the gargantuan dog, she covered them both with the swathe of soft, grey fleece, kissing his head and wrapping her arms around his neck.  
“I suppose you’re going to get up and workout, hmm?” Beth asked, Alfie turning over and wrapping her in his arms, reaching to gently stroke Abe’s head.  
“Nah, love. I’m happy exactly where I am.” 
That went for all five of them. 
The End.  
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youuuimeanmee · 4 months
Text
Noragami Final Chapter Thoughts
You know what? I'm used to it.
I'm used to have exceptionally well-written manga get cut off or deadline-d to finish at certain point of time (usually by the publisher's order) when the authors still have so, so, SO much more left to give, so in the end they have no choice but to rush the final chapter.
Shingeki no Kyojin, Promised Neverland, Nisekoi, other mangas I forgot to name. And this manga. For such a long-running series with deep lore, they all could use a special volume (200+ pages) as an epilogue, not a 45-pages speedrun of everyone's everafter. I wish more series could follow Mob Psycho's example. Some say Mob Pycho Season 3 is too long, it needs to be more compact etc, but I don't think so at all. I think it's perfect the way it is -- it's a fulfilling send-off for all the characters we love so much. I wish more series would get their ending like that, but what can I say about Japanese manga industry.
And there's also Adachitoka's health to consider too. In which case, I'd say they did their best, and I'm really thankful for them for being able to deliver this series safely.
In short, I already expected this chapter to be a speedrun. Because of that, my experience when I read this chapter is better than I expected.
Maybe because I've learned my lessons for not making theory too much, so I don't have certain expectations that'd cloud my judgement.
With no deep thoughts when reading, let's go dive in.
The PUNS it still gets me. Yukine's sister calling Haruki's name while watching a tree that blossoms in spring is 😭😭😭
Ayoo he can change to a dog still? My poor baby 😭
I guess this is his punishment for wrecking havoc in the human world and disturbing the Heaven? But like, he was clearly under the influence of trashdad?? He's not really at fault?? Is this author's message that we shouldn't justify his action just because we understood his reasons?? But still. That's too cruel for doing it for your own main character.
I know shinkis that were left behind by their master would retain their name after the master's death, but still. To think Izanami's power is still working on Yukine after the Kotonoha is destroyed. This is tragedy.
THE FLOWERSS IN YUKINE'S RESTING PLACEE AKSJJDBDKDJDJD
Daww that's nicee. Hiyori as an intern!
Damn, she really forgot everything. This is for the best though, she already died once when she got too close with the far shore; I'm already prepared for this much. Maybe Yato had finally severed her ties with him and that (along with the cpr) is what allowed Hiyori to return.
Wdym "intense cpr," it's more than intense. It's hella long too. Nobody could perform intense cpr for hours nonstop, unless that person is non-human.
Good to know Yato broke her ribs though, nice work!
Hiyori's missing notebook? Prob taken by Yato or something.
Dafuq. Move along with your "it's me!" wishy-boy. No. This time it's not you who kissed her. You were delirious in some random abandoned building in some random city when Hiyori was dying.
See, this is my nightmare. To have the real Fujisaki Koto as Hiyori's future love interest. Because I know for sure, for so long, that they could bonded with their out-of-body experience when they both lost their memory.
Sorry Koto, 'nothing against the real you, but your alter ego has kinda ruined your image.
Damn, Father's longing for Kaya runs deep in Koto's veins.
BAHAHA, Nice one Coophone. Or Yato. Or Yukine. Or whatever tf Hiyori's guardian is.
AWWW THE GODS ARE CARRYING HIYORI'S LEGACY TO HAVE A PICNIC TOGETHER 😭😭😭😭
Aww man I didn't see Nana. She'd love to have a picnic with both Bishamon and Arahabaki! Is it because she was infected with GGS, or is it simply her turn to watch over the house? I hope it's the latter.
I wish the Gods would talk more about Yato's miracles, including about Hiyori. She is literally the glue that help stick these guys together. Without her, they wouldn't even know about Father's Liberation ability.
Heck, forget about Yatori. I wanna hear the Gods reminscing about their situations & conditions after the incident. But alas.
Oh well. This is something I've learned to let go.
Woow Kunimi looks young! Does he finally have a vacation?? Lol
Ebisu's voice got deeper? He still looks like a baby to me. Is he a baby 12-yo?
It's real nice to see the 3 reincarnated gods! Though I coulnd't care less abt them,even tho i know they have main character energy
Oh. my God. TakeKiun is really sailingg Look at dem. Matching clothes and soft smiles and all dat shit 🥺🥺🥺
Um, okay. It's good and all that each mortal has their own version about what happened at that time, but like,
Weren't people DIED???
I thought many people died!! Getting slashed by Gods!! Why is it not covered on the national news-
(myb when Father's "nation" returned to the underworld, the souls who were lost were also returned to its vessel somehow?)
Nope, nevermind. Just don't think too deeply about it. Moving on.
BISHAAA it's good to see her in great health!
Though I really wanna know, how is her relationship with the Heaven and the other Gods after that fiasco, how she feels abt Father's defeat, etc--
NOPE. Don't thinkabout it. Just moveon.
Here I thought Yato was gonna get a reward from Amaterasu for slaying "something that doesn't belong on this Earth." Oh well. Guess Amaterasu is hella stingy like that.
Why Yukine seems like he got even smaller though. Is it the changing art style? He looks more baby than ever.
Wait, they got a whole proper room to sleep? Is this their old room in Kofuku's house?? I thought since Yukine is infected by GGS, Kofuku stayed the hell away from Yukine, but that doesn't seem like the case?
Maybe Kofuku-Daikoku are the one who abandoned the shop; leaving it for Yato and Yukine to stay in? We'll never know.
(Now where is Kofuku's new address, I need to know)
Since Yukine is infected by GGS and always in constant nightmare, I'd like to believe Kazuma is experiencing the same thing; in order to separate him from the rest of the clan, now Kazuma sleeps with Bishamon every night. Lucky bastard.
That is so touching of Yato for comforting his sobbing child every night, but I wish we got a glimpse of his reminisce with his now-gone Father.
Oh wooww the dude finally stopped playing around. I thought he didn't have the guts to cut Hiyori's ties, turns out he really cut itt. No wonder Hiyori forgot about him for 10 years.
(Though I don't think she forgot completely either. Yato might not be in her head anymore, but he's still in her heart)
Adachitoka-san. Are you trying to tell ME this teke-teke thing is way more viral than the mass of unnatural, unknown deaths???
Is it because there's no death at all???
*sighs.* Anyways.
Aww Nora is now staying at Iki's household, happier than ever 🥺
Oh so that's where Hiyori's notebook goes.
Wait, Iki household creeps Hiyori out? Why? Is it because she was traumatized by her grandma's death? (Does she even remember that?) Is it because she faintly remembered the way Nora broke her house's windows? Or is it because she could sense Nora's presence and it icks her? I hope it's not the latter ☹️
I'm happy Nora is finally a happy child, but, Yukine? What about my son Yukine, who is no longer a pure soul, who could no longer sleep peacefully every night. Where is Nora's apology for leading Yukine to Father huh? Where is her apology for (indirectly) turning Yukine into who he is today? I guess it happens off-screen, we'll never know.
OH WOWW THE PUNS' AT IT AGAIN
Wdym "the night has a scent."
"Night" is using the same kanji as Yato's name, 夜. She is remembering his smell from the nightt, peoplee
(The night when he kissed her prob)
The power of the match-matching ema hunged by Ookuninushi is really strong, huh. Hiyori managed to remember Yato again, despite her already-severed-ties with Yato.
(or maybe not. I guess their fate really IS intertwined, knowing their first meeting)
I kinda wish Hiyori would remember Yato much later, like, in her 40s when she already has kids on her own, but hey, the sooner she remembers him, the longer he'd stay on this Earth so I'd still consider it a win!
Tbh, a part of me don't want her to get involved with far shore like she did in the past, but a part of me also wants her to snuggle between Yato and Yukine's arms after her work hours end. Dilemma.
Now I need Hiyori's journey to become one hell of a rich doctor so she could build a proper shrine for Yato so she and her family could pray together every morning, because she claimed it's Yatogami who saved her life that day. She'd make dinner for Yato and Yukine and eat with them every evening while her family acknowledge it as her night-praying-time. She'd tell her family, her future husband, and her future children about the legend of Yato (she'd exaggerate it a lot) and the next thing she knows, Yato have already has a devoted followers. Oh, and she'd often visited Bisha's shrine, Kofuku's, Ebisu's, all gods associated with Yato.
That's it folks. I rarely do my thoughts about Noragami, but I do read it religiously regularly each month. This manga has already become my comfort manga no matter how angsty it is, so it's gonna be hard to part with it, after all this time. Maybe for next month I'm gonna restart from chapter 1, one chapter per month.
I do have to say though, usually when I read a series with unsatisfactory ending, it leaves a bad taste in mouth. Somehow this chapter don't feel like that at all. I don't know why. I still look at this chapter and all the previous ones with fondness.
I wanna dream that 1-2 years from now, Adachitoka would release a 200-pages of Noragami epilogue -- which I know it's impossible, but hey, let the girl dream. I'm also looking forward for the extra komas, if there's any.
It's been a good time with you all 🤗👋
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mordyverse · 2 months
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🥀Steven Grant with a goth s/o!!!
ʚ🩸ɞ type: headcanons (sfw)
ʚ🩸ɞ pairings: Steven Grant x blk!gn!reader
a/n: we are so back 🦾
steven who listens to every playlist you make for him on repeat. He prefers New Wave goth over the other subgenres, and his notable favorite bands are Oingo Boingo, Cocteau Twins, The Cure, and Strawberry Switchblade. semi canon bc Comic!Marc has "The Killing Moon" by Echo and the Bunnymen as his ringtone.
steven who just nods when he hears you recite to your eccentric, offbeat philosophical poetry. It's not that he doesn't like it, he just never knows what's going on, don't take it personally.
steven who's supportive as heck when it comes to your look. he loves when you get all dressed up with makeup and jewelry, but he also understands that it's time-consuming. he loves your casual wear, too.
steven who loves taking you on picnic dates, museum dates, library dates, etc. He's BIG on thrift store dates and he's always on the lookout for new things to add to your collection (be it dolls, rocks, CDs, bones, wtv)
steven who loves movie night!! He has an expansive DVD collection (like Edward Scissorhands, Coraline, Elvira, etc) He has an affinity for black and white horror films like Dracula, though, because he loves how the movies rely on practical effects to be entertaining.
steven who sits through every single documentary with you. He even takes notes <3
steven who is hesitant to let you dress him. “it's a bit too dark for me haha..” he’ll always say, until finally giving in and letting you style him. He talks the ENTIRE time you do his makeup and he blinks like crazy when you try to apply eyeliner..
steven who loves taking strolls with you. moonlight or daylight, he's always there, his paces in time with yours, your fingers entwined with his as he holds a parasol over your head. he can't have you getting burned :(
steven who loves how your smell lingers in his flat after you’ve gone - the subtle but all-encasing scent of blood oranges, burning wood, rose water, and a bit of hemp oil calms his nerves.
steven who always hypes you up. He ADORES you. He takes so many pictures of you whenever you dress up. As soon as you step out of the house he's got his phone out, taking photos of you by the trees, the fountain, the snack aisle in the store - he's literally your biggest fan.
steven who appreciates how blunt and deadpan you can be sometimes. You're very straightforward with what you want/need and he doesn't have to play a guessing game.
steven who has the looming suspicion that his s/o may be a vampire..
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© all rights are reserved to @gloomysniche. Do not steal, modify, copy, and/or repost my works anywhere
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catindabag · 4 months
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Yesterday, my friends keep on asking me who’s the actual leader of Panem in my TBOSAS Crack!AU. So of course, as an equally crazy friend, I answered.
According to Felix Ravinstill in this short take, the real rulers of Panem are:
1. President Ravinstill’s 2 dozen Bichon Frisé puppies. And yes, you heard me. 2 dozen of these little crusty doggos are the “real” leaders of Panem. No wonder the country is (literally) going to the dogs.
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2. Mayor Boa Bell the Cat. Honestly, Pluribus Bell’s beloved cat won the election fair and square because the other candidates were Monster Mama Cardew (who is married to the IRS) and creepy Mr. Heavensbee Sr. (who has officially received 77+ restraining orders from the Ravinstill Supreme Court).🤣
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PS: In this Crack!AU, only a Capitol Noble with Ravinstill ancestry can become the President of Panem. However, the funny thing is that every single Capitol Noble (and I mean everyone except the Plinths) are actually related to one another and are in fact family by blood. So yes, Hilarius, Coryo, Festus, Lizzie, Percy, Livia, Palmyra, Andie, and the rest of the Mentors (except for Sejanus) are all ✨COUSINS✨.
This happened because a certain crazy Ravinstill (great great grandfather Augustus Tiberius Vipsanius Cornelius Antonius Felix Ravinstill) married off 2 dozen of his beautiful daughters to every available ✨Ancient & Noble Capitol House✨ in existence. So everyone in Coryo’s circle of friends and neighbors (except for the Plinths) are all related through the ✨Ravinstill Royal Bloodline✨. And yes, they all carry the “crazy” gene because of that.😅
Heck. The House of Snow, House Cardew, House Monty, and House Heavensbee of the Queen Bee have so much “crazy” Ravinstill blood in their veins, they can’t even pass a simple mental health test without having to pay someone under the table for them to be perceived as “normal” functioning human beings.🥲
And even poor Class President Felix Ravinstill has trouble remembering all of his 100+ cousins and shady relatives every time he sees them attending another one of his Gran Gran’s family gatherings.
At least Rich Boy Sejanus Plinth will be the only President of Panem who is fortunately not related to a crazy Ravinstill. However, that doesn’t even matter because his and Coryo’s 24 gorgeous SnowPlinth children will have the Ravinstill blood running through their veins anyway. The “crazy” gene included.
And when we get to Katniss and Peeta’s timeline, everyone in the Capitol (and I mean everyone even the Plinths) are all part of one crazy family lineage. They will all be cousins (whether they like it or not) because of the famous/infamous ✨Ravinstill+Snow+Plinth Royal Union✨. Even Effie Trinket is part Ravinstill now.
Lol. I’m so gonna get a lot of flak for doing this, but who cares! I’ll give our favorite crazy meddling Mentors the weirdest family tree in Panem! Even the incestuous Targaryens of Westeros will be jealous of House Ravinstill and its ever expanding never ending crazy family bloodlines.
But we all know that this is all part of evil Strabo Plinth and the Grandma’am’s genius plan to rule Panem forever through the ✨Snowjanus Union✨.😌💅
#SnowPlinthDynasty #Snowlandsontop #StraboPlinth&hismanyagendas
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ticklygiggles · 10 months
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Heroic Feat | Scaramouche & Elise (commissioner's oc)
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A/N: Last commission for @thornoisdono! Thank you very much for your kind support and patience! I hope you enjoy this!
I think this is the longest fic I've ever written and I don't think I'll do such thing again LOL jasnjsf
Summary: Scaramouche is in a stupid mission with the traveler, but they somehow end up separated and Scaramouche has a very interesting encounter.
Words: 7k
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Where the heck was Aether?!
This was so frustrating. Seriously, Scaramouche only took his eyes off Aether for one second, he simply looked behind him when he felt a presence following them, but when he turned back around to tell Aether about it, the traveler was no longer there, not even his little fairy. Were they taken by the presence Scaramouche felt earlier?
He hated this. He knew this was a bad idea as soon as Lesser God Kusanali told him about it. Why did he have to accompany Aether, the traveler who had conquered four, (or more), regions of Teyvat by his own, to this stupid mission? Of course this was one of Lesser God Kusanali's attempts to help him redeem himself for what he had done in the past, and, even though Nahida wouldn’t admit it right in front of his face, this was also to make him socialize and start to feel a bit more… human? 
He couldn’t deny that he felt a certain warm sensation swirling inside his chest knowing that Nahida actually worried about him so tenderly; it felt nice and actually motivated him in certain way to be better, so she could feel proud of him- but those were thoughts he wouldn’t dare to say to anyone, not even to Nahida herself. Thoughts that he wouldn’t even think in that moment if it weren't because, out of wanting to make Nahida proud, he had agreed to come on this stupid expedition with Aether and now they were both lost.
Scaramouche sighed heavily, looking from right to left, hoping to find a single clue that would tell him where Aether had gone, but he couldn’t even find one of his long golden hairs. Had Aether been swallowed by the earth? He wouldn’t doubt it taking in consideration the place they were in. The Wanderer wasn’t exactly sure if they were still in Teyvat, he never knew of such lands like these, so far away from any civilization.
Every few moments, he would think that they were in Liyue, if the amber rocks meant anything, but then he would catch a glimpse of a Windwheel Aster that made him think that they were, in fact, in the City of Freedom. However, he would think twice after seeing an Onikabuto bug climbing up a tree surrounded by Rukkhashava Mushrooms and Padisarahs.
That place was nothing Scaramouche had seen before and it made him feel worried about Aether and his fairy. Were they caught by an unknown monster? Did they fall into an underground trap? Did they get sucked into a domain? Were they kidnapped? 
Worse still, what was Buer going to say when Scaramouche told her that not only had he lost the traveler and his little friend, but that they were…
Scaramouche shook his head with a growl. The best decision was to go ahead; clearly the traveler was not going to disappear off the face of the earth so easily, was he? Scaramouche would eventually find him and then they could pick up that stupid book they came looking for and they would leave as soon as possible. This place was more than Scaramouche could bear and he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
But things never go the way you want and he realized that when, after having passed a dense wall of bushes, a giant mansion stood right in front of him. He fought the urge to groan; if Aether wasn't in there, then he was gone forever.
Sighing heavily once more, Scaramouche reluctantly headed towards the mansion. He had never seen architecture like it, they were definitely not in Teyvat anymore.
He couldn't tell exactly what that mansion was. A house? A church? He had never seen such a construction, but for a moment he thought that a certain blond architect he knew would have liked to see this.
The closer he got to the building, the better he could appreciate every detail. This building had a very distinctive ornate style, it seemed that the entire structure was made of stone, vines climbing up the walls made it look like an abandoned place.
Ahem…
The sloping roofs, for some reason, gave him a headache and the towers and chimney seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky and it seemed as if, on a small flat part on the roof, there was some kind of garden, protected by metal with intricate designs that even Scaramouche thought looked pretty.
He had never seen so many windows in one single structure, there were more windows in this mansion than walls. The arches of the windows were perfectly rounded or rose to a small point and he could see a glass door in a balcony, also with a perfectly rounded arch and a strange pattern just above. Was it some kind of crest?
Before he knew it, he was already standing in front of the door and was surprised to see that even on the wood of the door frame, it could be seen pretty patterns of flowers, leaves and more shapes that all together made it really something exquisite to see. Scaramouche fought the urge to caress the details with his fingertips.
Up close, the mansion was huge. No matter how much he craned his neck back, he never seemed to be able to see the top of the mansion.
Did he really need to knock on the door? Perhaps he could only get in? Yet again, this was a strange place, what if he activated some kind of mechanism when he opened the door? He did a quick inspection with his eyes, and it certainly didn't seem any different from a common door.
Barging in would be. He lifted one of his legs, feeling the air around him wrap around his calf and swirl under the sole of his shoe, just as he was about to kick the beautiful door open, it opened of its own accord and Scaramouche held his breath, surprised to see someone right in front of him.
A young lady smiled dangerously at him, behind her red lips two sharp fangs peeked out and Scaramouche realized at that moment that they were definitely not in Teyvat. He had never seen a… person with fangs this long and sharp, countless beasts, of course, but never a human unless, of course, this girl in front of him was not a human.
Her long violet hair almost reached her heels and the ends of it ended in small curls that bounced slightly with her movements. Her clothing was… eccentric and he reminded him a little of the type of clothing La Signora used to wear, but he quickly shook off that memory and tried to tear his eyes away from all of this girl's exposed skin.
Her shirt fell open, exposing her clavicle and much of her chest. Her dress hugged her figure so much that Scaramouche felt a little suffocated just looking at it. The skirt of her outfit ended a little higher than the middle of her thighs and her legs were clad in long stockings that reached mid-thigh, garter belts hugging the top of her legs, disappearing under her skirt.
She had a lovely face and her large eyes shone with a strange reddish color. Her whole person exuded 'danger', from the twinkle in her eyes, the mischievous smile on her lips, and that overly confident stance. The alarms in Scaramouche's brain began to ring and he thought that this was the only person who could hold Aether and Paimon captive. He at least had found the culprit.
"Like what you see?"
The girl's voice snapped him back to reality and he arched an eyebrow as he lowered her leg and crossed her arms over her chest, dissatisfied. The girl laughed, and it seemed to Scaramouche that her laughter sounded like little bells ringing all at the same time. Annoying.
"Well," she continued, looking Scaramouche up and down. "I see you're not from around here either, right?" She cocked her head like a confused bird. "That blonde boy and his floating pet looked just as weird as you.” Scaramouche could tell she was trying to taunt him, make him react with her words, but he remained expressionless, an almost bored expression on his features, but that didn’t stop her. “From their clothes to the way they talked and, well, you don't see a child flying around every day, do you?"
Well, it was clear that she had seen Aether and Paimon around, and Scaramouche was almost certain that she had them captive, perhaps in a secret room inside this huge house?
“Where are they?” He spat, hoping that the girl would actually tell him Aether’s location so they could finally leave, but of course, things weren’t going to be that easy. He felt terribly tired. 
Her whole face lighted up and she let out a soft, excited gasp. “Ah, so you can talk! And what a nice voice you have! What is your name? I am Elise!”
“I do not care about that. Tell me where they are.”
Elise smirked, glancing at him with a humorous look, an eyebrow arched. “Now now, that’s not very nice, is it? That’s how you treat someone you just met?”
“No. Worst.”
He did not like this situation at all, as their bickering continued, Elise seemed to get more and more excited; she looked tremendously happy and dangerous all at the same time. It made Scaramouche feel uneasy in so many ways. For a moment, he thought this whole situation was the most interesting thing that had happened to her in a long time. She was like a hungry beast, now that she had had a taste of a delicious meal, she was not going to stop eating it until it was completely finished. Scaramouche winced. 
Lesser God Kusanali… do you really need that stupid artifact?
“I don’t have time for this,” Scaramouche said, taking a step forward. “Tell me where they are right now or else I’ll-
“I’m a vampire, you know?” She interrupted him and Scaramouche frowned. “I can suck your blood until you’re nothing but an empty vessel. Useless and pathetic. Writhing like a worm with these,” she pointed at her bangs, “sunk into your skin. Sounds fun to me, what about you?”
Scaramouche bared his teeth. “I don’t care who or what you are,” he said, looking her up and down. “If you don’t tell me where they are, I am going to kill your right here and now and I will destroy-
“Tch, tch, tch.” She shook her head, a fake sad expression overtaking her features. “You have such a nasty mouth. You don’t tell me your name and then you threaten me?” She sighed, shaking her head. “What a shame, with that terrible attitude of yours I certainly can’t help you get to your little friends you worry so much about!”
He fought the sudden warmth wanting to spread over his cheeks. They weren’t… his friends. He had no friends, the only thing he could ever have were enemies and many of them. He’s done so many outrageous things, he was not one worth of friendship. He did not wish to meddle with those weak foolish creatures that Nahida fervently wished he had some connection with. Having any type of feelings towards expirable beings, changing emotions, who did not know how to measure the magnitude of their words- no. Scaramouche wanted nothing to do with them… and yet, a question was asked in his head, a question he dismissed immediately, but settled in the middle of his chest.
Could Aether ever see him as a friend? Could this traveler stop being alert around Scaramouche all the time and start enjoying spending time with him just because?
Hah, ridiculous.
This was no time to think stupid things, it was clear that Elise was tempting him, she could hear in her voice the desire to make some kind of deal with him. He didn't like the idea, but if it had to be that way, then so be it.
“Unless, of course…”
There it was. 
“What do you want?” He asked, knowing from the beginning that he was going to despite anything she said to him. 
Elise giggled, covering her mouth with one of her hands before catching a strand of long hair and twirling it around her long fingers. “Well, you’ll see… You are not a human, right?” She sent a glance to him and Scaramouche stiffened a little, feeling strangely vulnerable.
“So what?” He barked, squinting his eyesa and Elise lifted her hands, showing both her palms. 
“I’m just curious,” she said with a big grin. “I'm usually pretty good at deciphering the species of all the creatures I come across, but you... what are you?” She squinted and stared at Scaramouche's face as if the answers for her questions would magically appear on his forehead. “So, I would like to do some… tests on you, nothing too intense, I promise. I just have a feeling that you’ll refuse to tell me exactly what you are, so I’ll have to find out by myself!”
A certain unpleasant sensation tightened his chest, but Scaramouche didn’t show any discomfort, on the contrary, he chuckled and shrugged. “I’ve been tested plenty of times before.” For the first time Scaramouche saw something else flash in Elise’s eyes besides mischief, perhaps a bit of surprise? “I surely can take whatever you want to do, but I will only accept if you tell me where-
She rolled her eyes, now showing disgust. “Yes, yes yes, I will. Aish, you really like those two huh?”
Scaramouche scowled,  “I do not. They’re under my care, that’s why.”
“Oh, poor things. Now I feel bad for them,” she cooed and Scaramouche sent her a nasty look, making her laugh.
Elise welcomed Scaramouche into her home and she babbled a little about the construction and everything related to every single detail in the huge mansion. Scaramouche barely paid any attention and he simply nodded and hummed here and there, but he knew Elise knew he wasn’t listening, she just enjoyed talking and would continue even if Scaramouche was unconscious. 
That awkward sensation was still swirling within him. Making him somehow nauseous. He thought that Buer would probably feel a little sad knowing that someone experimented on him, especially after past events, so he would probably leave that part out once they returned and she asked him for a verbal report. Thinking about her big eyes glowing with excitement made him feel a little less sick. He hoped this could end soon. 
“Here we are!”
He never thought there would be some kind of laboratory inside this mansion, but there it was. Exceptionally cold and terribly equipped with bottles filled with colorful substances and tools that he didn’t even want to know what they were used for. In the middle of the lab, there was some kind of bed that looked far from comfortable, four little versions of beds sticking from three sides, those were for the arms and legs, Scaramouche knew and he made his way to it without even blinking an eye. 
“Oh, how did you know- oh.” For once she closed her mouth and the air was suddenly filled with awkwardness, Scaramouche let out a breath through his nose, a soft humorless chuckle that made Elise turn a little pink. “A-Anyways, yes. Lay down right there.”
She didn’t need to tell him as he was already laying down, getting himself as comfortable as he could as his limbs spread over the extensions of the bed and he couldn’t help but tense a little when Elise was suddenly by his side, studying him with her eyes, he could see excitement brimming on them. She smiled brightly and quickly dragged a wheeled side table close to the bed Scaramouche was in. He saw some tools and he winced slightly. 
“Are you not going to tie me?”
Elise was surprised by his sudden question and he arched a brow, urging her to answer. 
“I won’t,” she said, perhaps a little too serious, making Scaramouche feel slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t plan to do anything too crazy on you, you know?” She said, scribbling on a worn out notebook. “Just a few examinations.” 
“Mhm, whatever. Get to it quickly.”
Elise rolled her eyes, but she went into action right away. From head to toe, Scaramouche was carefully examined. 
“Your resistance to pain is actually amazing,” she said, writing on her notes. “I hope it wasn’t too terrible.”
Scaramouche shrugged, he wasn’t even sweating. “Are you done?”
“Hmm, I just want to keep checking the sensitivity of your skin,” she said, quickly sending a glance to all the spots where she could see Scaramouche’s bare, milky skin. “I already saw how good you are at tolerating pain, those tests weren’t as bad either, were they?”
She smirked playfully and Scaramouche wanted to whine. Was it really worth it to do this for Aether? In the end that traveler would know how to get out on his own, Scaramouche could just wait for him sitting comfortably on a rock or on a tree branch, right? Lesser god Kusanali would not even know that he-
“Haa!” A sudden gasp escaped him as he heavily jerked his leg away from the touch of her icy fingers. “What the hell are you trying-
Elise giggled, “well, that was certainly a good reaction. Did that tickle?”
Tickle?! Scaramouche widened his eyes. Oh no. It hadn’t been long since he was forced to find out that he was, much to his absolute embarrassment, extremely ticklish, or at least, way more ticklish than what he liked to admit. His mind still couldn’t wrap around the idea of him being so sensitive to some stupid light touches to his skin.
And oh, how much he hated it when the traveler decided to ambush him with those wiggly fingers digging under his arms or squeezing that terrible spot on his inner thighs- no matter how many times Aether would say he looked rather happy and like he was enjoying himself, of course he was not enjoying himself. Not in the slightest… he liked to say that, but he couldn’t deny that that overwhelming sensation, that always made him felt breathless and so out of control, also made him feel light and human and something warm always spread inside his chest when he could see, (through teary eyes), that Aether always looked so happy while he was reducing him into a laughing, cackling mess.
He always smiled kindly, not like he was trying to make Scaramouche suffer some kind of torture, but just like he wanted… to have fun with him, even that little flying thingy, always so weary around Scaramouche, looked she was having fun with him, telling Aether where to tickle him next and giggling like a kid as she heard Scaramouche laughing his head off. 
But he would always say that he hated it, especially around this girl!
“Oh? Are you very ticklish?” She teased, and Scaramouche bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing when her fingers wiggled against his knee, his body, however, acted by instinct and his leg jerked away again. She laughed, “oh heavens, we’re gonna have so much fun!”
“Do not do this,” he warned, scowling at her. “I let you do your little stupid experiments on me already, so now you should stop this and-
“I did say,” she started, interrupting him for the umpteenth time that day, “that I was going to tell you about your little friend’s whereabouts after I did my tests and I haven’t finished them,” she said, looking at him with a glint in her eyes. “So, are you going to take it or are you going to go and try to find them on your own?”
Scaramouche wanted to growl at her. Was she saying that he had to endure being tickled by her just so he could know where the hell were Paimon and Aether? That was ridiculous! Why did he have to put up with that humiliation just for the sake of the traveler? Yet again… would Aether be upset if Scaramouche didn’t help him out? Nahida most definitely would. Besides, what would they both say if they ever found out that he couldn’t save Aether because he couldn’t stand some stupid tickling?
That was even worse still!
Scaramouche huffed, looked at Elise and nodded, making her squeal and clap excitedly. 
“Good choice you’ve made, dear stranger!” She said, putting her notebook and pencil aside, causing Scaramouche to feel a wave of nervousness rushing through him. “I think we should start here,” she said, moving to the end of the kind of bed where Scaramouche was laying. “I really don’t understand your weird outfit at all, but aren’t you cold having your toes all uncovered like this?”
Scaramouche rolled his eyes. “You are one to talk about weird outfits, have you seen your s-sehehelf? A-Ack!”
“Hey! What do you mean by that? I look glorious in this outfit, you’re just jealous. And no holding back! Can’t you see I’m trying to see your reactions? So don’t keep yourself from laughing!”
Scaramouche whined as he curled his toes, she had undone his sandals rather quickly and now was scribbling her fingers up and down his soles. It tickled so bad, and Scaramouche wanted to laugh already, but would he give her the gratification to see him laughing already? Probably yes, because he wanted this to stop quickly.
“Nnghh– stahahap!” Ugh he hated to giggle! He gripped the edges of the bed and tried to keep his feet as still as he could, but when her long fingers scratched under his toes, he couldn’t help but jerk his feet away with a loud laugh. “I sahahahaid stahahap!”
“And I’m telling you not to move or else I’ll have to start all over again!” She said and even though she wanted to sound threatening, there was laughter mixing in her voice. “Hmm, toes seem to be very sensitive, right under them?”
Scaramouche squeaked as she continued to tickle under his toes. The scritch-scratch of her fingernails against his sensitive skin was making impossible the task to keep his feet still. That was, indeed, one of his weakest spots and she found it so quickly! Her nails scribbled against the balls of his feet, focusing on that protruding bone on the side of his foot, near his big toe that had him throwing his head back with louder laughter. 
His arches weren’t any better and when she reached them, he moved his feet away with a cackle, quickly putting them in place again so she could continue her stupid tests. 
“Oh goodness, I can’t tell what spot in your feet is more sensitive! You’re just so ticklish!”
Scaramouche felt warmth spreading across his cheeks, burning around his ears and traveling all the way down to his neck. He knew he was ticklish, was it too necessary to be reminded about it?! Was she going to keep tickling him until she found his weakest spot on his feet? Might as well help her out. 
“Ihihit’s uhuhundeheher my tohohoes- ahahaha!” That was a bad idea after all.
“Right here? Right underneath? Look how you try to curl your toes! Does it tickle that-
“It dohohohoes!” Scaramouche growled between loud laughs. “Juhuhust mohohove ohohon!”
Elise laughed, but she kept tickling Scaramouche there until he was laughing nearly in hysterics and almost kicking her right in the face. When she finally stopped, Scaramouche heaved his weight back into the uncomfortable bed, breathing heavily and trying to move his fingers that had gone stiff from gripping the bed with nearly all his strength. 
“Are you good there?” Elise asked. “Need some water or something?”
Scaramouche shook his head. “J-Just keep going. I want to finish with this soon.”
Elise chuckled, moving now to Scaramouche’s legs. “Is that so? I thought you were enjoying it.”
If it was Aether then maybe, but– no, no, no, no! What is he even thinking about right now?! Ah, he really hoped Nahida would be really happy and proud of him when they finally made it out of here. 
“Okay, let us continue.” Elise’s voice made him jump a little and Scaramouche flinched slightly, making her giggle. “Maybe I’ll tickle you here next,” she said, her hands hovering over his thighs and knees.
Scaramouche couldn’t help but widen his eyes. He so desperately wanted to tell her to not tickle him there, but he knew any plea would fall into deaf ears, if anything, he thought she’d be even meaner if he admitted that that was, in fact, his most ticklish spot. He sent a quick glance to Elise and tightly shut his eyes when he saw her smirking at him. He could handle this, he could handle this. He just needed to laugh as hard as he could to give her what she wanted and this experiment would be over, he just–
“EEEEK!” A loud, surprised shriek escaped his lips when, instead of feeling her fingers digging into the sensitive muscles of his thighs, they latched to his hips and squeezed at his flesh in the most ticklish way possible. 
Scaramouche tipped his head back with loud laughter, his arms embracing himself as his knees moved up, trying to protect his hip bones. He squirmed and shook, but Elise easily followed him as if her hands were glued to his body.
“I think I’ll leave your thighs for later,” Elise said with laughter in her voice as she clawed at Scaramouche’s hips. “I have a feeling they’ll be very fun to tickle!”
“N-Nohohoho! Gahahaha! Stahahap!”
“You know,” she said, her hands moving to wiggle at his lower stomach. “It is pretty hard to tell where you are the most ticklish when you’re this ticklish all over.”
Scaramouche shook his head, embarrassing giggles making his body shake as she vibrated her fingers in that space between his hips. “Yohohu juhuhust sahahaid you wahahanted totestmysensitivity– stahahahap!”
Elise nodded, “I want to check your sensitivity, but I also need to make a map of all of your good spots to see if they are related in any kind of way.”
That didn’t make any sense, and by the playfulness mingling in her voices, Scaramouche knew that she knew she was talking nonsense, but he could barely pay any mind as the maddening sensation was making him laugh and giggle so hard. By now, he could only focus on her fingers tickling him all over. 
She grew bored of his sweet giggles soon and Scaramouche squeaked when he felt her hands moving upwards towards his belly, sneaking under his tunic to have better access to all of his torso. Elise scribbled her fingers against his tummy, making him arch his back with bright giggles as he embraced himself tighter, trying to stop himself from pushing her hands away. The fabric of his black undershirt was not helpful at all for it only made it easier for her fingernails to scratch at the sensitive skin of his stomach. 
Scaramouche didn’t hold back any sound, not wanting to make her tickle him for longer than necessary, so his squeaks, shrieks, giggles and laughs came out freely, embarrassing him to the core, especially that stupid high-pitched sound he let out when she circled his belly button before dipping a single finger in, wiggling it around until she made him snort. 
Elise gasped, “snorting already? I’m barely starting, though!” She said, fanning her fingers out to grab a hold of Scaramouche’s lower sides, her thumbs sinking into the sides of his stomach. “Your stomach seems very ticklish, but it’s not as bad as your hips, right?” Scaramouche simply nodded. “Yes, I see. So far your feet are still in first place, your hips in second, but let’s see how I can bring out more of that loud laughter of yours.”
Scaramouche whined between laughs as she started to squeeze her way up his sides towards his ribcage. Once there, his laughter turned a tad bit more desperate and he unconsciously tried to wrap his arms around his ribs, but she stopped him.
“Nuh-uh! You can’t do that, you’ll mess up my testing!” Scaramouche growled, but he quickly moved his arms away and back to where he was gripping that bed earlier, but Elise stopped him again. “I think over your head would be better.”
Scaramouche gasped, shaking his head. “Ahahahare you crahahazy?! I cahahan’t!”
Elise shrugged, a smirk on her lips as her fingers came to a stop. “If you can’t, then I’ll have to stop and you’ll never know where your little friends are. It’s up to you, handsome boy.”
He whined. Oh, he really hoped Nahida welcomed him back with a great banquet or something. Trembling and with his body begging him not to do it, he raised his hands above his head, his hands holding tightly at the upper edge of the bed, he took a deep breath and looked up at Elise. 
“Thehere, are you happy now? You better finish this up quickly or else I- AHAHAHA!!
“Yes, yes, yes,” she said as her fingers started to claw at his exposed ribs. Scaramouche arched his back and kicked his legs, tears of laughter were already prickling at his eyes. “You keep threatening me, how mean!”
“You keheheep dohohoing so too– Ahahaha! Wait! Wahahahait!”
She didn’t know, but Scaramouche could positively howl with laughter if someone were to tickle his ribs one by one, he had found this out thanks to Aether, of course, so he couldn’t help but grow desperate when he felt her nimble fingers rubbing deep circles to both of his lowest ribs. 
“I cannot wait, sorry,” she said, with no regret in her voice. “But, hey, I wonder how many ribs you have. Do you have any more or less?” 
Scaramouche shrieked, shaking his head. “I hahahave twenty-fohohour! Twehehehenty- nahahahaha!” 
And so, the counting started, and as Scaramouche expected it, Elise lost count many times, claiming that he was moving too much, even when he was doing his best to not squirm so she could finish soon. How much he hated his stupid ribs, why did they have to be so damn ticklish? And why did Elise have to focus the most on those ribs that made him laugh like a mad man? The eighth ribs, counting from bottom to top, were Scaramouche’s weakness, along with the highest ones, close to his underarms, and it didn’t take Elise long to figure that out, her fingertips clawing into the sensitive skin.
“Whoa, your ribs really are ticklish!” She said, giggling as Scaramouche nearly lost his mind. “I think- hey!” Scaramouche’s arms came flying back down to wrap around his ribs, trapping her hands right against his most sensitive set of ribs. “Now, lift your arms! You were doing so well!”
Scaramouche gasped, shaking his head before throwing it back with shrieking laughter. 
“Ahahahare y-you ahahaout of your mihihihind?!” He laughed, jolting with a squeak when he felt her fingers massaging into his poor ribs, driving him up the wall. “I cahahan’t!”
“I’ll have to stick here, then,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, a bright smile curling her lips as a soft blush covered her cheeks. “I wonder how crazy I can drive you with just tickling your ribs? They seem plenty sensitive already.” It was a miracle that Scaramouche could hear her over his laughter. “Hey, I wonder, are you getting any more ticklish the more I tickle you here?”
There were only two options: say yes and hope that she will stop for a moment to let him catch his breath or say no and suffer the consequences of his stubbornness. For Scaramouche, the answer was quite clear.
“YEHEHES! Yehehehes, plehehase!”
“Oh, poor you.”
As much as he wanted to act tough and unfaced by it, he honestly was just too ticklish and he needed a break, so he was glad when Elise did stop, even though her words made him think that she wouldn’t. She pulled her hands away from his body and placed them behind her back, perhaps to give him the assurance that she wouldn’t start right away. 
Scaramouche gulped in air, his body going limp into the uncomfortable bed. He was sweating already, his clothes were askew, his tunic falling off one his shoulders, his hair was messy and a deep blush covered his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He was shaking slightly, his nervous system vibrating after all of that stimulation. He hoped Elise would tell him that that was all, but he knew it wasn’t. She hadn’t even gotten his worst spot and she surely looked excitedly at that tiny crevice between his chest and arm, letting him know that she really wanted to tickle him under his arms. 
How long has it been? He felt like he had been there for days, his mind feeling a little funny, like his brain was short-circuiting, his body was tingling all over and he just couldn’t erase the forced smile upon his ribs. Ugh, really! Why did he have to grow fond of Aether and Paimon?!
“I think you can raise your arms now, right?” She suddenly said, now that Scaramouche was breathing a little more easily, her voice making him jump slightly. “I think you can raise your arms now, right? We still have some spots to go and, I’ll just let you know, I didn’t leave any water or food for your cute friends.”
Scaramouche whined deep inside himself. His underarms were already driving him crazy with phantom tickles, he was one hundred percent sure that he wouldn’t be able to stand tickling down there, not even a single poke, but even so, he swallowed thickly and started to unwrap himself from his self embrace. 
Elise giggled and he was a little thankful when she took a step back. He felt so stupid lifting his arms above his head, grippin the edge of the bed again. His arms were trembling so hard and it took him a whole minute to lift them completely to expose himself, but the worst definitely was the fact that laughter was bubbling in his chest already.
Elise seemed to notice as she laughed. “Are you nervous now? Don’t worry, you’ll have lots of fun.”
Scaramouche growled. “Just s-start already! You just keep- AHAHAHAHA!”
She seemed to love that. Start tickling him when he was mid sentence. His arms came down miserably as soon as her fingers dug into his hyper ticklish armpits, her hands sneaking past his tunic and touching his skin directly thanks to the sleeveless undershirt he wore. He arched his back and pressed his arms as tightly as he could against his sides, but her fingers still wiggled and pinched at his skin. He was nearly in hysterics, tears of laughter rolling down the sides of his face and into his hairline. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything else that wasn’t the intense sensation rushing through him.
And this was not even his most ticklish spot. 
Oh, Lesser Lord Kusanali, have mercy on him. 
“Oh heavens,” Elise said with laughter in her voice. “Aren’t you just too ticklish for your own good?”
Scaramouche didn’t know this, (and he would be glad to never know this), but he was a delight to tickle. Maybe that was the reason why Aether enjoyed doing so so much. His ticklishness was ridiculous, but at the same time so adorable. It was impossible to think that such a stubborn and rude person was just this sensitive to tickling and perhaps, it brought out a kind of sadistic side on everyone one, a need to turn that frown upside down and force a big, bright smile on his handsome face.
Besides that, his laughter was just so cute. So high pitched and bubbly, almost childish. It was nearly impossible to not laugh along with him and his smile, even though he wanted to, it looked so sincere and happy. It was a mystery to everyone to know he was actually enjoying it or not… to everyone except for Aether of course. 
Scaramouche was positively losing his mind. “STAHAHAP! I CAHAHAN’T!”
Elise giggled, “you can’t what? Your arms are not even up anymore,” she said, speeding her tickling to make Scaramouche shriek. “But it doesn’t really matter, you’ve trapped my hands anyway, so I will only stop until you lift your arms, how does that sound?”
He shook his head. Incapable to utter any other sound that wasn't his cackly, nearly hysterical laughter. He could barely squirm, his body stiff in rather a weird attempt to prevent Elise’s fingers from wiggling under his poor arms, but of course that didn’t work, and Scaramouche could only laugh and laugh and laugh, feeling ticklish sparks rushing through his whole body. The tickles under his arms quickly spread to his upper ribs and soon his laughter had gone silent, his body shaking and vibrating. 
“Oops,” Elise said with a little giggle as her fingers stilled and she pulled her hands out from under Scaramouche’s arms. “I think I broke you, will you be able to stand some more tickling?”
Scaramouche shook his head as his laughter got its volume back and it quickly faded into giggles and then heavy breaths. 
“N-Nohoho,” he said, trembling slightly and blinking away tears of laughter. “I’ll- Ihihi’ll dihihie…”
“Oh, you’re so dramatic,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes. “It is no fun if you die, is it? I still want to try just one more spot, okay?”
Scaramouche gulped, shaking his head again. He knew what spot she was talking about and he was not sure he would really survive a second of it. Not if Elise acted as merciless as she had done so far. 
Elise smirked, placing a single hand over Scaramouche's knee, making him jerk and shriek. Elise laughed, throwing her head back. 
"Oh, c'mon, it cannot be that bad, can it?" She pressed her fingers into the skin, not exactly tickling him, but it made Scaramouche's skin prickle with goosebumps. "I mean, we can stop here, but you will never know where your friends-
Scaramouche growled, "just do it! I want to end this as soon as-s p- ahahaha! I hahahahate yohohou!" 
Fingernails skittered against his thighs and knees, little spider-like-legs crawling all over the sensitive skin, making Scaramouche break into hysterical giggling. His legs were trembling, trying to keep them still for those tickles that made him want to crawl out of his skin. Goosebumps covered his thighs and he let out squeaks and shrieks when Elise’s fingers circled around his knees and climbed a bit too high, towards his inner thighs. 
Scaramouche could feel every pore in his body exuding sweat as he tried to keep himself from kicking Elise in the face, not because he was any kind, but because he knew she would probably tie him up and start tickling him all over one more time. It was a risk he was not going to take, so he keep himself wide open, feeling on the edge, waiting for her to actually star the torture. 
Elise chuckled. “I had a feeling your legs would be very ticklish,” she said, her fingers skittering up, sneaking under Scaramouche’s shorts and digging slightly into the tender, hidden flesh and he let out shrieky, panicky laughter. “Now I’m starting to think I might end up killing you if I really tickle you here!”
“Thehehen dohohon’t! Stahahap ahahalreaAAH! AHAHAHA! STAHAHA!”
Oh, he was expecting it, but he could never get ready for the maddening sensation of fingertips digging into his ticklish flesh, that tender and soft spot just a few centimeters away from his crotch was enough to make him scream with laughter with just a few squeezes. He caved in within seconds, his legs closing together, once again trapping Elise’s hands into his weak spots. 
“I can tell this,” she said, almost screaming over Scaramoche’s laughter so he could hear her. “You’re the most ticklish being I’ve ever met, handsome boy.”
Scaramouche wanted to pull his hair out, throw her away, jump out of that damn bed just to make her stop, but he endured. Oh, that little fairy, he hoped Paimon would stop being so on edge around him- not that he was going to tell her he had to do this in order to save her life. 
He was doomed. He couldn’t actually say anything about his heroic, (yes, heroic), feat. What would Aether, Paimon and Nahida say?! This couldn’t get any worse, could it?
“FAHAHACK! NAHAHA!”
Oh, it could. Elise was not only tickling his inner thighs, one of her hands had now moved to his hip and the heavy jerk he just did, almost threw him off the bed. He was squirming so hard, and with each of his moves, nice jingly sounds mixed with his laughter, making it sound almost angelical. Not that Scaramouche would ever think that about his crazy, desperate laughter.
“Okahahay! OKAHAHAY!” Scaramouche said, at the verge of going crazy. “Plehehease! Plehehease, STAHAHA-!”
Elise didn’t stop right away, she waited just until his laughter turned a little weezhy and snorty and so, her hands finally left his sensitive body and Scaramouche collapsed into the bed. Gulpin in sweet oxygen as he tried to stop his residual laughter. Not even Aether had dared to tickle him like this- of course, that was because he only wanted to have fun and make Scaramouche light up a bit, on the other hand this girl here… well, he wasn’t really sure what exactly she wanted. 
He was surprised and a bit thankful when she lent him a glass of water from Nahida-knows-where. He was a bit suspicious about the liquid, but he had a desert in his mouth and as he sat himself up, he gulped gladly at it and drank the whole thing in one long swallow, choking a little. 
“There, there,” she said, patting his back. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”
He glared at her and only when he thought he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, he spoke with a hoarse voice. “Are we done?”
Elise grinned widely and his heart dropped to his feet, thinking that she would get him again, his body tingling all over, but she simply nodded, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 
“Thank you for your kind, kind collaboration with my little experiment, handsome boy,” she said, batting her lashes at him. “I hope we get to see each other again soon.”
He frowned. “I hope not. Now, tell me where- hey!”
Elise snapped her fingers, and in a blink of an eye, Scaramouche found himself out of the mansion and into the path that had led him to Elise’s manor. 
Wait.
That little-! Did she deceive him?! That woman! He went through all of that for nothing! Oh, she’d see! He was going to force her to tell him exactly where Aether and Paimon were even if he had to use force and-
“Oh? Scaramouche?” Scaramouche halted, turning around to find Aether. Paimon beside him with that book Nahida wanted so much between her hands. “You’re here! We were worried!”
“Ha?! Paimon was certainly not worried!” She said, but Scaramouche could not even argue back to annoy her, he was just staring at them with wide eyes. 
“Where the hell were you?” He said, feeling his cheeks strangely hot. 
Aether approached him and he was wearing a little smile that told Scaramouche that the traveler had not been, in fact, kept captive.
“We were looking for you!” Aether said, pointing somewhere deep into the woods. “I was talking to you, but you suddenly weren’t there anymore! Paimon and I were-
“Paimon wasn’t!”
“... Were looking for you, but we kept going in circles, but we thought we heard you laughing?” Scaramouche’s cheeks felt hotter and hotter the more Aether talked. “We tried following the sound, but we just couldn’t find the way! Are you okay? Was it really you laughing?”
Scaramouche sighed. He was really deceived, wasn’t he? He shook his head, looking at Aether as if he was out of his mind.
“Don’t be a fool,” he said, crossing his arms. “Why would I be laughing? I want to go back now.” He snatched the book from Paimon’s hands.
“Hey!”
“So let’s leave before I go crazy. Hurry up.”
“Oh, but do you know the way?”
“Paimon doesn’t want to follow you!”
“I know the way, and if you don’t want to stay here in this stupid place, little fairy, you must follow me, then.”
“Paimon is not a fairy!” She said, stomping her feet in the air and yanking at Aether’s clothes. “Aether! He’s being mean to Paimon!”
Scaramouche chuckled and he quickly made his way through a sudden path both Aether and him failed to notice before. Good, at least she could show them the way out after making him go through tickle hell for nothing!!
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