#oh to be twelve again and experience all these games for the first time again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragonjesterwrites · 1 year

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Okay I've had this unique idea for Sundrop(and by extension Moondrop). What if a young adult reader entered the daycare. Not because they needed to stay there but because they want to see Sundrop who's been taking care of them since they were little. The two of them always had a huge bond. The reader's parents never really spent time with the reader and kind of neglected them always ignoring thwm or pushing them onto someone else so the reader would often find themselves spending long ours at the pizza plex after school and the reader felt like Sundrop and Moondrop were better parents then their biological ones but all of a sudden they stopped going around age 10 because they moved. Sundrop and Moondrop had a tearful goodbye with the reader. Now they're an adult and living independently they took a trip to relive the experience they had at the pizza plex and to see Sundrop and Moondrop again, going to the daycare. Sun at first doesn't recognize them but after he does it's a tearful(figurative in Sun's and Moon's case) reuinion.

Here you are, dude! So sorry this took forever, I went through like, five drafts before finally picking one 😅😂 but here it is!!

Sun and Moon as Parents (but to Reader this time)

~~~~~

"Sign there, there, and there."

The height of the stack of safety waivers you had to sign for a simple weekly pass to the Mega Pizzaplex was highly concerning, to say the least, but you elected to ignore the bad feeling in your gut. You'd basically spent your whole childhood in the Daycare, you doubted you were going to manage to, as the papers put, 'suffer loss of limb, life, or brain matter' in a single week.

Besides, you were excited. And nervous. But you pushed that second feeling down and away, too, scribbling a final signature down before handing the papers back to the robot working the passes desk.

"Thank you, paying customer. Pass is being deposited." The robot stuck out its hand, and a colorful, plastic card was printed out of its palm. "Please take your pass, and have a Faztastic day."

"Thanks, mate." You said, taking the pass and offering the robot a smile and a wave.

The robot said nothing, but indicated for you to wait with one finger, knelt down, grabbed something, and then offered out its closed hand to you. Curiously, you held your own hand out underneath, and it deposited two circular pins into your palm- Sun and Moon.

"Oh- oh, shit, thank you." You said, staring wide-eyed at the pins before back up at the robot. "How did-?"

"Next customer, please." The robot interrupted, no longer looking at you, and you blinked at it, taken aback, before shrugging and moving out of the way.

Well, that was… odd, but you weren't complaining. Once you had pushed through the turnstiles, you made your way to an unoccupied section of bench, slinging your backpack off as you sat down.

You affixed the pins to the cloth of the pack, right next to the pins of their generic counterparts. Once done, you smiled down at them fondly, before turning to look up towards the right-side escalators.

Even after all these years, you still knew all the routes in and out of the Superstar Daycare. It was so close- up the escalators, to the right, down the hall, through the shutters, and down the slide- but you couldn't go yet. It was twelve thirty-two, which meant it was snack time, about to be nap time.

Moon had always been grumpy with adults who interrupted nap time, shushing them and sending them away before returning to you all. You didn't want to bother him or Sun while they were working, and besides, you didn't have any children with you- be a bit odd to show up to a daycare as a lone adult.

Nah, you'd wait until just before closing at six. It wasn't like there was any shortage of things to do, either- you'd been saving up for this for awhile, and treated yourself to a VIP pass; unlimited access to all attractions and arcade games, and you intended to take full advantage of the offerings.

For the next few hours, you did just that, immersing and distracting yourself with lights and sounds, arcade beeps and blended crowd chatter and rock music.

At present, you were wandering around the arcade with a mess of tickets under one arm, looking for any particular game to jump out and catch your eye, when an announcement startled you out of your idle search.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the time is now five fifty, the Superstar Daycare will be closing in ten minutes. I repeat, the Superstar Daycare will be closing in ten minutes. Please come and pick up your children, if you have not already. Fazbear Entertainment can not be held liable for lost or…"

"Oh, shit, I'm gonna be late." You muttered, beginning to jog for the exit. A group of young kids emerged from between a row of arcade machines, chattering amongst themselves, and you strode towards them. "Hey guys, I gotta run and can't turn these in. Want 'em?"

The kids stopped, surprised, looked at the tickets, then amongst themselves, then back at you, faces breaking out in grins. "Hell yeah. Thanks." One of the girls said, sticking out her arms. You handed them over, then booked it for the exit, hearing them begin to squabble over the bounty behind you.

You made it to the Daycare hallway just a minute before it closed, passing a line of parents and older siblings carrying or pulling along young toddlers and babies. One toddler was fussing, reaching out with little hands to the brightly painted shutter over their parent's shoulder. The parent was ignoring their child's upset babbling, mouth drawn and eyes dull, and annoyance flashed to life as you passed them. Would it kill you to comfort your kid?

You knew you were projecting, the situation all too similar to your own- maybe the parent was exhausted, maybe this was a habit of the child, but still, you couldn't help feeling more sympathetic for the child.

You shook it off and continued down the hall to the shutters, thankfully still open. Voices floated through, and you hurried to get closer, until one voice, louder and distinct from the rest, made you stop in your tracks.

"...oh, she's always an absolute delight to have, Ms. Tilley. So creative!"

"...Sun?" You whispered as you padded closer to the open shutters, spotting him. His head turned from the woman and child in front of him, to you, making you freeze, and he tilted his head, but then the woman asked him something and his attention snapped right back to them.

"Absolutely!" He crouched down to the child's level, holding out his arms, and the little girl embraced him, squeezing him tight. "Aww. Mr. Moony and I will miss you too, Sam! But we'll see you soon, alright? Mr. Moony says sleep well!"

He chuckled and stood, taking the girl up with him, and handed her off to her mother, waving them goodbye. The pair returned the gesture and headed your way, and that's when Sun stepped forward and looked directly at you.

"Well, hi there, friend! Can I help you?" He called. "Do you have a little superstar enrolled with us, or do you perhaps need directions?"

He didn't recognize you. Made sense, it had been over a decade, and you were an adult now. But it still hurt a little- he and Moon had practically raised you, after all.

But would that mean anything to them? They'd probably half-raised plenty of neglected kids; daycares were notorious for that sort of thing, and Sun and Moon cared for hundreds, probably thousands of kids a month. This was- this was stupid. He probably didn't even remember that far back. Maybe you should just leave.

Anxiety and crushed hope left a bitter taste in your mouth when you spoke. "S-Sorry, I was just… looking for the bathroom."

"Oh, I see! Right back down the hall on your left, friend." Sun said, sounding slightly distant. Probably tired of dealing with dumb adults like me all day.

"Thanks." You said, offering a lame wave and turning to leave. You'd made it maybe ten steps before your name- your full name was called, hesitantly, quietly, but curiously.

You stopped, looked over your shoulder, a little bit of hope rising in your chest. "Yeah?"

"Is that… really you?" Sun asked, taking a step forward, then another.

You smiled, turned fully around. "It's really me."

Sun gasped, then began to hop up and down, giggling and clapping his hands. "Firefly! I haven't seen you in- in years! C'mere c'mere c'mere-"

You laughed and ran over to him, backpack thumping on your back. He extended his arms out, and you eagerly took the hug, sending you both staggering a bit and making you giggle. His arms embraced you, and he squeezed you tight, before he took your shoulders and pulled away, looking you up and down.

"Oh, Firefly, it's really you! Look at you!" Sun exclaimed, before he abruptly straightened, one large thumb brushing wet across your cheek. "Oh, oh, little comet, why are you crying?"

"Happy tears." You assured him with a wobbly smile, letting out a choked laugh before hugging him again. "I missed you two."

"...We missed you, too." Sun whispered, returning the hug.

"For a second there, I thought you'd forgotten me." You said, covering the pang of hurt with a joking tone, but suddenly he was pulling back, holding your face in his and gazing up at you from where he knelt.

"We never forgot about you, little comet. I promise." He said, sincere as anything. "Why, we watched you grow up! I just didn't recognize you at first, because, my goodness, you're an adult now! Look at you!"

"I am." You chuckled, rubbing away the tears with the back of your sleeve. "Got my own apartment, have a college degree, pay taxes, and everything."

"You do?" He shrieked excitedly, leaping up and catching you by surprise. "I'm so, so proud of you! Oh, you've got to tell us all about it, come on-"

And that's how you found yourself sitting in a colorful chair now far too small for you, in the Daycare that hadn't changed since you'd left for the last time, recounting the past decade of your life to Sun over a plastic tea set. His tea parties had been your favorite when you were little, and you found your heart swelling with appreciation whenever he poured more imaginary tea from the red teapot into your yellow daisy-patterned cup. Such a little gesture, but you'd thought maybe he wouldn't, given that you were no longer little, yet he showed absolutely no hesitation in doing so, and it made you happy beyond words.

But there was one difference that had stuck out to you since you'd first walked into the Daycare lobby- Sun, himself. His clothes were worn, with grey stains, stubbornly lingering after what must have been dozens of repeated washes. His casings and rays, vibrant yellows and oranges in your memory, were now pale, revealing scratches and smudges and even hairline cracks. It looked like he hadn't been washed in weeks, or repainted in years.

A horrible thought occurred to you. You'd done some research on the Pizzaplex before making the long trip over, and noticed the negative reviews piling up for the Daycare. Going back, Sun and Moon had always had a handful of bad reviews; typically relating either to their perceived gender or appearance (as if either one was somehow their fault), but as of late, parents had been focused on the two's worn-down casings and even behavior. If the cash flow stopped… somehow, you doubted FazCo would be putting Sun and Moon into a nice retirement home.

Your heart squeezed, and you reached out to take his hand, your previous sentence trailing off. You looked down at his fingers, seeing the scratches went all the way down to the endoskeleton knuckles. There were nicks in the wires, and some were wrapped up in electrical tape. "Sun… what are you and Moon going to do, you know, in the… the future?"

"What do you mean, Superstar?" Sun asked innocently, taking a pretend sip from his blue cornflower cup. The plastic cup rattled slightly against his silicone teeth, and you frowned as he cleared his non-existent throat and set it down.

"You know what I mean."

"I certainly don't." Sun insisted with a chuckle, though he shifted his hand in yours, and began to write something with his thumb into your palm, distracting you from his next words. "But anyway! Where were we? Ah, right…"

s… c… p… e…

He stopped, thumb circling idly thrice, before restarting.

E… s… c… a… p… e.

You looked up at him, wide-eyed, and his words stuttered as he urgently tapped your palm, before writing something out much more quickly.

C-a-m-e-r-a-s.

You nodded, forcing a neutral expression and not allowing yourself to glance around for them. W… h… e… n… ?

While he chattered on about the day's activities, he wrote into your palm, giving the basics of the plan he and Moon had concocted- sneak out through the roof escape hatch they'd broken the lock on, then secure shelter and get the other animatronics out.

They hadn't found good shelter yet, though. They needed a lot of electricity, you knew that much.

You hesitated, listening to him talk a minute or two more, concentrating on nodding and smiling enough to look natural on the cameras, then switched focus and quickly wrote into his palm.

W-a-n-t-s-t-a-y-w-i-t-h-m-e-?

Sun's head snapped towards you, blinking owlishly before his rays began to pop in and out excitedly.

A…r…e…y…o…u…s…u…r…e…?

"Absolutely." You whispered, squeezing his hand before beginning to write out your address.

~~~~~

"Hey, I'm going out!"

You waited patiently by the door for a reply, gaze landing on the framed photos that filled the wall beside it. You smiled, before turning to look in the general direction of the kitchen when you heard Sun reply.

"Okie-dokie! Where ya headed to, Firefly?"

"Uh, just to the local coffee shop, meeting a friend." You replied, your face warming despite yourself.

Moon's head popped out from the kitchen- you'd brought them enough parts to build them a separate body years ago- and he looked you up and down, eyes glinting in a way you'd come to understand meant amusement.

"A 'friend', hm?" He asked, and the heat in your face doubled.

"N-" You began pointedly, but you were interrupted by Sun's excited shriek.

"You're going on a date!?" He exclaimed, bounding out of the kitchen to scoop you up. "Oh, you've got to tell us all about them! What's their name, what are they like? Where'd you two meet? At work, or-?"

"Sunny, they're going to be late." Moon said, and you shot him a grateful look as Sun set you down with a gasp, immediately taking to smoothing your outfit out.

"Oh, oh, yes, you're right. Sorry, Superstar! I just got so, so excited! But I'll save my questions for later, you go on now!"

"And be safe." Moon added, before disappearing back into the kitchen. "Text us if you need. And no fooling around."

"Dad." You said, amused and exasperated. "It's a first date! At a coffee shop!"

"Aw, he's just worried about you, Firefly!" Sun assured, giving you one last pat across your shoulders. "And so am I! Drive safely, okay? And text us when you get there, and when you're leaving?"

"I know, I know- and I will, I promise." You said, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He hugged you even tighter, gently bopping his faceplate against the top of your head with a loud mwah.

"Thank you, Superstar." He said, before abruptly letting go and spinning you, pushing you towards the door and making you laugh in surprise. "Now go, go, go! You want to make a good impression so you cangetmarriedandgiveusgrandkids!"

"Sorry, what was that last part?" You asked, mortified, but Sun just made an unsure noise as you stumbled out onto the porch.

"Hm? Oh, I'm sure I didn't say anything. Love you, be safe, have fun~!"

You hadn't even made it to the car yet, and you were already dying of embarrassment- but you had to admit, you thought as you cast one last smile at the front door before opening the car, it was nice to be looked out for.

#sun fnaf #moon fnaf #reader #platonic pls don't tag as ship #not between sun moon and reader anyway #sun x moon is fine because it can be interpreted that way if you want 👌#drabble request

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altruistic-meme · 10 months

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intrigued by time travel au and laurent stabs damen (ofc he does) 👀👀👀

>:) oh you chose two of the best ones

Time Travel AU

this is pretty heavily inspired by a wip im reading now, though only as far as the setup for the plot. which is, essentially, that a modern day Laurent somehow finds himself transported to ancient Akielos, where he comes across Prince Damianos 👀

i have so many plans for this as far as like... what is the story saying, what themes and meanings the story is telling. and there are two main things: 1. no matter how much you want to, you can never change history and 2. history is written by the victors.

it's also going to be my first attempt at really writing a tragedy! it's going to have an unhappy ending! i should not be sounding so excited about that. but i kinda am. i almost never read unhappy endings. i think it will be a fun experience.

i also get to write part of the history of Akielos for it, twice, and it's such an exciting prospect to me

laurent stabs damen

>:)

>:)))))

so this is the fic that i went "oh this will be easy to turn into a silly little oneshot" and am now at 4k words and am currently expecting the story to hit around 40k-50k :')

all because i went "what would happen if Laurent showed up on the battlefield at Marlas, found Damen and Auguste's fight, and stabbed Damen to protect Auguste?" i have now looked into armistices, ceasefires, peace treaties, and friendship treaties, what they are, how long they take, as well as a few examples from history. just so i could have a timeline for a fic that i meant to make like 7k max.

BUT as i have some written, you get an excerpt of my favorite moment so far!!

“I’m trying to save his life.” Again, it was not what Laurent had expected to hear. Clearly it wasn’t what Auguste had expected either, because his jaw slackened before he covered it again with a glare. The Akielon continued, “He’s, what? Twelve?” “Thirteen,” Auguste replied, his eyes flickering over to Laurent. “Thirteen,” the Akielon repeated. “And how many battles has he been in?” “None.” A hesitation. “One, now, I guess.” “He doesn’t know the rules of engagement, then.” Auguste shook his head. That wasn’t strictly true, Laurent did know them. Mostly. But he had never actually been in a duel before. And he knew that Akielos had different rules than they had in Vere. They were all about fairness and honor. “I don’t think he would have attacked me, had he known,” the Akielon said, and he sounded so sure. “I would have,” Laurent said from his position behind a sword. The soldier tightened his grip but didn’t press any harder into Laurent’s neck to make him be quiet, as he might have had Laurent been a soldier himself. The prince turned to look at him, his expression curious. Laurent continued, “You would have killed him.” A hum. “I would have,” he agreed. Laurent glared at him, but the prince had turned his attention back to Auguste. “Lack of awareness doesn’t matter in Akielos, though. He still broke the rules of engagement, whether or not he knew what he was doing or the consequences.” “So why is he still alive?” Auguste asked, the words sounding like they were being ripped out of him, rough and frustrated.

[ WIP FILE GAME ]

#neither of these have names yet #im trying to NOT name them so early. for once. we'll see how it goes #im also still debating how im gonna post the stabbing fic.... bc i kinda want to do one big oneshot but also #the way it's planned it could be broken down into 4 chapters #either way i think i want to try finishing it before posting (if i do make it multi-chap)#and the time travel au is just. ugh. i love rotating it in my head but i have a lot of planning to do before i write #since i have to figure out two different versions of the same events #which im excited about but i also know they'll be work #also also; the exchange of 'i would have' makes me insane like i know i wrote it but aaaaaaaaaaa #ask game #wip game #askers #daylightsimon #captive prince #shh ac #wip: laurent stabs damen #wip: time travel #now i need to try and sleep 🫡🫡🫡

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mamamittens · 2 years

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Put on a Show (+18)

BuggyXReader (Gender neutral attempt)

I tried really hard to write full on smut without an assigned gender, but don't be surprised if it makes more sense as AFAB (sorry, but for safety reasons you really should not be shoving anything up your ass without prep, pro tip). There is a general assumption reader is very flexible and strong. As should be expected of someone who regularly does aerial silks.

I was lowkey making a joke with myself when the idea first popped up, but if nothing else, this is descent smut practice. Hope the Buggy simps appreciate.

Warnings: Voyeurism, grinding, dirty talk, authority kink, definitely a lowkey bondage kink, Buggy is an ass man here, unconfirmed/no prep anal/or/vaginal sex, and creampie.

Oh! By the way, a "Shill" in a circus is someone that pretends to buy tickets or participate in a show/event/game to remove anxiety for someone else being first so they can make more money! Seemed fitting for a nickname at the time ;)

@lilmissofficial hope this has you convinced lmao (let me know if you'd like me to remove this tag btw, I couldn't ask before I posted)

Word Count: 2,137

There were times you wanted to take the immaculate silk ribbons you were intimately familiar with and use them to strangle the absolute fuck out of your captain.

The prideful man likely thought you and everyone else was dumb as a rock with his piss poor excuses about your presence on his crew. You didn’t really have much in the way of fighting experience. And sure, your impressive upper body strength could be considered an asset—but it was painfully obvious that you were not a part of his crew because of your strength. No. You were definitely on board solely because Captain Buggy was massively turned on by your command of endless silk fabric.

If you could see the hard on while spinning and tumbling in and out of intricate knots, there was no way anyone else was missing that. Somehow no one was saying anything though, which told you that either there were bets going around or everyone was literally that stupid. Including your captain.

But no.

According to your illustrious captain, you were a secret ace in the hole. A veritable death from above!

And to be quite honest, you were ready for the pretense to be done with already before one of you dies from figurative blue balls. There are only so many times you can provocatively do the splits at perfect eye level for Buggy’s elevated vantage point before you gave up on life itself. It might be a little easier on both of you if he didn’t insist on watching over every practice performance you did as well.

But no. As captain, it was his duty to insure the safety of his whole crew.

In truth, he clearly just had a voyeurism kink.

And you had enough of his shit. It was time for Buggy to either man up and confess or stop watching your ass like it was made of solid gold.

Which lead you to this moment. Staring up the seemingly endless twin length of silk as you tested its anchoring high above. It would be very un-sexy of you to smash your face into the ground instead of his chest after all.

There was a flash of color in one of the higher balconies, signaling the arrival of your captain. At times, you suspected he haunted the practice area specifically to ensure he never missed a performance. But it was just as likely he was using Haki to track the general location of his crew. Seemed sneaky enough for him, even though he clearly thrived in the sheer drama of a show. And you were about to put on one hell of a show for him.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the fabric in both hands and lifted yourself up. Legs swinging out to catch on the silk in wide loops around your legs, hooking into convenient footholds under your feet. Twelve feet in the air, you pushed out your chest, hands keeping you from tumbling forward, spine arched perfectly as you dipped your head back. Slowly, you pushed your body’s half circle form until you were standing again. Then tipping back into a spin so you dropped several feet.

Catching on a knot of silk around your leg just in time.

Slowly, sensually, you twisted and carefully ascended again. Taking care to occasionally perform a split or spin on the silk so it wasn’t obvious what you were doing. And then you were several feet above Buggy, pretending like you hadn’t seen him yet. Completely unaware that your deep split with loops of silk around your thighs and calves put you on a perfect display.

Then you dropped suddenly, sliding down until you caught the silk in your hands, arching your body back and up so you were face to face with Buggy’s shocked expression. You gave a sly grin, pushing out until your noses almost touched.

“Enjoying the show, captain?” You whispered, watching his face flush a deep red that almost matched his nose. He was unusually dressed down today. Carefully crafted ‘captain’ outfit nowhere to be seen. A simple stripped shirt and baggy pants he clearly preferred to sleep in. Blue silky hair pulled back into a ponytail instead of fixed into his hat. He still had on lipstick though, which was almost reassuring.

Even with the distinctive tattoo on Buggy’s face, he looked almost naked without the rest of his usual outfit.

Blustering and surprised, Buggy stammered for a moment.

“O-Of course! Y-You’re as skilled as ever! As expected of one of my valued crew members!” Buggy declared.

You continued giving him a sly smile, eyes narrowing as you slowly grew closer, head tilting to avoid his nose.

Stopping just shy of his lips.

“I’m glad you like the show. Captain.” You breathed out softly before pulling back suddenly. You almost laughed as his body swayed forward unconsciously. “I suppose I should get back to it though. I’m sure you have more important things to be doing right now.” You teased airily, swinging your upper body back around.

Conveniently displaying your ass at perfect eye level.

You yelped at the sudden grip on your inner thigh, yanking you back towards your captain. A single, disembodied gloved hand firmly latched over the tense muscle. Surprised, you tilted back again, arching your spine to face Buggy at an appropriately conversational angle.

He looked flustered and pissed.

“And what the hell was that? You trying to test my patience, Shill?” Buggy hissed. You laughed a little, shaking your head.

“No! Of course not, captain! Just practicing control for the next show is all!” You excused. Buggy’s eyes narrowed further. His hand squeezed harder, jerking you closer.

“I didn’t think you were making so little you’d need to work for extra tips, Shill.” Buggy growled. Buggy… he looked genuinely pissed at the idea you’d kiss audience members as part of an act.

Taking leave of your senses, you cracked a wide smile you knew would piss him off.

“Of course not, captain! But you specifically seem to enjoy a little teasing as part of a show so~?” You sighed, tilting your head and pressing your luck even further, “Not that you ever want to participate—But if it bothers you that much, I can go back to keeping my distance.” You started to return to your previous position, back complaining from holding the pose for so long. The hand on your thigh slid over to grab your ass, Buggy’s other hand catching your head to pull you in close.

Buggy’s lips slid over yours in a harsh press, face noticeably hot as he locked eyes with you. He pulled you in closer still, your legs untangling from the silk so you fell forward, sending him into his back. He grunted but refused to let go or relinquish the kiss. Finally, you pulled away, hands braced beside his head as you looked down in shock. His lipstick was smeared around his lips, undoubtedly coloring your own as well.

“I don’t recall saying you could stop.” Buggy grit his teeth, hands firmly planting on your ass to squeeze the toned muscle.

“You never really said to start either, captain.” You mumbled, still a little shell shocked that he actually made a fucking move. Maybe there was hope for the both of you yet. Buggy smirked.

“Cocky little shit.” His hips bucked under you, grinding his erection against you, “This clear enough instruction?”

“I don’t know… Mm—” You moaned softly at the growing heat in your body from the harsh friction through your leotard, “I-I’d hate to disappoint you.”

Buggy flipped you over, hands reluctantly leaving your body to hold himself over you, hips still grinding against you.

“If I’d known all it would take was a little hands on action, I would have done it while you were tangled in the air.” Buggy hissed, “You look so fucking pretty in silk, you know that? I think this is a close second though—hng! Yeah. Keep making that face, Shill~”

Buggy gripped your thigh, guiding your leg over his waist. Clothed erection grinding into you hard enough to draw a choked moan. You bit your lip as Buggy smeared his lipstick over your exposed neck, kissing the skin with hot, open bites. Your heart was pounding against your chest with every harsh pass of his cock, the friction nearly shoving you up the floor if it wasn’t for his firm grip on your body.

“C-Captain—Fuck~!” Buggy laughed at you, tongue eagerly sliding over your panting cries.

“I can feel how hot you are for me. Good.” Buggy slipped his hands under your ass again, firmly grinding his cock into you as he ruined your leotard with his precum even through his pants, “Keep being so sweet and maybe we’ll do an encore.” Buggy joked despite the raging hard on he kept forcing to slide between your thighs.

He pinned you to the floor with his whole body, fingers sliding the fabric covering your crotch to the side for a more intimate grind. His own pants falling down enough so his cock began to smear precum over your thighs and sex. Thickness trapped between your bodies as he went faster. Pressing his body into yours harder.

“Oh-oh—oh~! Fuck Buggy please! Hng—I-I ca-can’t keep—Ah~!” You shook, hot liquid smearing between your bodies as you came. The heat seeping between you both as Buggy kissed you again, tongue deep in your throat as his cock twitched, cumming hard in the wake of your cries. His hips kept grinding into you, prolonging the sparks along your skin as he tried to kiss you even deeper.

Reluctantly he pulled back.

“Hah… Have I made myself clear yet?” Buggy asked, watching with heated eyes as your mixed cum pooled underneath you, sliding between your thighs and cheeks.

Panting, you smirked, instantly earning a warning look from Buggy.

“I-I don’t know Captain… I think the message needs to sink in a little… deeper.” Buggy grinned, canting his hips back.

“If that’s what it takes~” Buggy cooed, before thrusting his cock to the base. You screamed in surprise, the sound muffled in an unexpected kiss, “I thought this is what you wanted? Can’t handle taking orders? That’s considered mutiny, don’t you know?” Buggy licked up your neck as you sucked in a sharp breath. Your body burning from the sudden thickness.

Buggy pulled out, breathing in your sigh of relief before snapping his hips back to slam into your ass.

You moaned in sharp bursts as he fucked you hard, driving his cock as deep as it would go before his hips bounced off your ass.

“Ah! A-Ah~! Ha~h! C-Ca-ah~pta-ahn~!”

“Fuck that’s more like it~! Not so cocky now, are you?” Buggy laughed, “Is it too much? What are you going to do about it? Cum? Good.” Buggy drove his hips faster, delighted as you keened.

“B-Buggy~! Ah-hnnngg—fuck oh-oh-oooh~!” Your mind was in shambles as your body steadily began to burn in a much different way. Fire growing in your stomach as he split you open, eagerly fucking you through another orgasm.

You screamed as the pleasure took a sharp turn under the ceaseless onslaught. Your hips burned as Buggy pushed your thighs apart into a split, hips forcing your waist up so his cock drove your lower spine down into the floor. Despite not appearing very strong, his grip was unmoving, pinning you in place for his cock to drive you over the edge again.

“Who’s your captain? Who’s fucking you this good? Tell me.” Buggy spat, hot breathe beating over your exposed neck.

“Y-Y-oh—fffuck it’s you B-Buggy~!” You rambled, moans breaking your sentence apart until it was almost incomprehensible.

“That’s fucking right it is! C’mon, show me how good you feel—” Buggy kissed you deeply again, griding his cock against your sweet spot, “One more time for the finale, Shill. I wanna feel you squeeze around me again.”

You slammed your head back against the floor as you shook in his hold, unable to move away from the burning of his cock in your walls.

Finally, Buggy slammed his hips against you, cock spilling deep as he groaned into your lips with gritted teeth. Hissing as you squeezed him hard with a soft moan.

“F-Fuck… I-I’m guessing this is a more… hah… private show?” You laughed, body sinking down in exhaustion.

Buggy gave a sharp laugh.

“Ain’t no one got enough berri to pay for a show like this.” Buggy kissed your cheek gently before whispering into your ear, “I expect a repeat performance though. Can’t afford for you to get rusty. Captain’s orders.”

“Yes, Captain.” You promised with a dizzy grin.

Thank fuck you knew how to put on a show.

The encore was to die for.

#one piece smut #one piece buggy #you have no idea how hard it was to not make a joke about his nose #he's just so damn sensitive but i'm too mean #gender neutral reader #or at least an attempt #harder than it looks to write spontaneous sex without specific genitalia

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bmodiwrites · 2 years

Note

for the au ask game!

— steddie soulmates AU, like you only see in black and white until you touch your soulmate for the first time

Oh, I love this one! Thanks for sending it my way. As a color blind person, I think this is a really interesting concept. It ended up being a lot longer than I intended - sorry not sorry? :P

(i)

It's important to establish right away that there is some free will involved in the whole soulmate thing. How the person feels about the idea of having a soulmate determines how quickly the visual change sets in.

For Steve, the change is instantaneous. He's a twelve year old kid in a brand new town, just trying to fit in. Up until they got to Hawkins, Steve's family moved from place to place quicker than Steve could get through a school year. His dad says they're here to stay now, but Steve's not one to get his hopes up. The town hasn't blown him away so far, anyway. Though that quickly changes when Steve meets Eddie. He's in seventh grade so recess is the only part of the day Steve gets to really have to himself. No one's interested in making friends with the new kid, anyway.

There's a small tree by the edge of the basketball court that Steve's been hanging around since the beginning of the school year - like always, he makes his way over there. That day was different, though. Steve notices that someone's sitting there halfway across the basketball court, pausing just long enough to get hit by a rogue pass. The kid who threw it tries to apologize, but the glint in his eye is too bright for anything to be accidental. Steve trucks on, rubbing the back of his head. He's distracted enough to forget about the person sitting in his usual spot until Steve's once again getting hit, though this time, it's entirely his own fault. He reaches out to grab the boy's shoulder and is completely taken aback. Steve's only ever heard color described by his mother and her explanation is absolutely nothing compared to the experience. Suddenly, Steve sees skies and trees - absolutely everything - completely differently.

In true Eddie Muson fashion, he fights against the establishment. Which makes sense because all Eddie's ever seen of soulmates is disappointment and sadness. His mother died before he could remember her, making his father a shell of a person who could care less about Eddie who's an exact replica of a woman that brought color into his life and went right ahead and took it away in one fell swoop. He understands to an extent why his father can't stand him. It doesn't take away from the neglect and abuse Eddie's gets over the years, but he's not completely dense. When he ends up with his uncle, Eddie doesn't even try to get Wayne to talk about a woman that never came around. He's been against soulmates since he was old enough to piece together his dad's drunken rambles. When Steve comes into his life, he digs his heels into the soul shifting change that starts to set in. The boy is adorable and wide eyed, looking at him with a surprise that Eddie immediately tries to hate. He has to, if color starts to set in, he's done for.

(ii)

No matter how Eddie feels about it, there's no going against fate. As the years pass, he can't deny that the world gets a bit bright every time Steve comes around. Eddie's done enough damage over the years to keep some space between them but Steve is so resilient that Eddie's noticed the younger boy can't quite stay away. Eddie's overwhelmed by the fact that he finds it endearing, so he makes the visit hell on Steve. It's almost ritual now, to insult the boy enough to ruffle his feathers and send him on his way. The affection he feels when Steve doesn't even try to hide the smile makes Eddie physically ache. Never mind the fact that Eddie is starting to notice that Steve looks goddamn good in what he now knows is blue. It must be his favorite color because he wears it all the time. Eddie is proud to say he's able to hold off on crumbling to pieces until he's twenty - that's a whole seven years he fought to hold back something he ultimately couldn't control. It's too much to come so close to dying without getting to see Steve blush under him. The day Eddie kisses Steve, he's awake from a coma for the first time in weeks.

Steve never knew frustration until he met Eddie. For Steve, the world is a different place completely center around a boy with dark brown hair and eyes that look like his daddy's whiskey. It's the most glorious thing to happen to Steve and he's slightly taken aback by the rough treatment he receives from the person who suddenly makes his world go round. He's loathe to admit that he cries his little heart out for nights on end for the first little while - it takes time for him to realize that Eddie's not really fight against him, he's trying to take on the world at large. It's not until high school that Steve's aware enough to grasp that concept. It takes a while still, though, for him to stomach the harsh way Eddie could so easily turn on him. Until it becomes the sort of game Steve can play to his advantage, every mean word and hardened look is a direct shot in the heart. Thankfully, his entire being is in tune with Eddie, so he starts to notice when the old boy can't fight fate any longer. It's at the worst time possible, but Steve's been waiting for the day that Eddie finally comes around. They fight and save the world and it's almost perfect except Eddie is in dire condition and it's weeks before Steve sees the chocolatey brown eyes. He's so fucking surprised when Eddie wakes up that it takes him quite a while to respond to a kiss that's so many years overdue.

(iii)

Once that dam breaks, there's absolutely no turning back. Steve's been waiting his entire life to be with the person that makes the world such a vivid place. Being with Eddie makes everything look like a movie in the best definition it can be. The longer the together, the sharper the color is. It's so rich that Steve sometimes gets overwhelmed by just how beautiful the world is. How beautiful Eddie is. And damn, he is - after he recovers, his eyes are bright and his cheeks hold a permanent red in them that makes Steve's entire body light on fire. He loves Eddie so much that it makes the kids sick, often getting him made fun of. It's worth it, though. Steve loves Eddie in his black leather jacket with the crisp white of his shoes. It's a sort of contrast that Steve never thought to miss from life before when shades of gray covered the world. Eddie makes Steve's life something that's filled instead of half empty.

Eddie never figured he'd be the type of person that loves with his whole existence, but as it turns out, he is. Despite how hard he tried over the years to keep him out, Steve's been there and is so easy to incorporate into his life that holding out the way he did seems silly. Uncle Wayne starts to set out a third plate at the dinner table and calls Steve son like he first did when Eddie came to stay. It makes watching Steve smile worth all the pain he knows he's in for somewhere down the line. He tries to keep that little bit of negativity in his life, to keep him honest, but having Steve in his life is too damn good. He's the colors of the rainbow packed in bold hair-dos and clothes that bring so much flavor to Eddie's life. Steve loves yellow and blue (because Eddie likes him in it) and he's the brightest when they're tangled up together alone, but also when the kids, any of them, are around. Eddie never thought he'd be one for fatherhood but he's starting to like the surrogate dad roles he plays with little weirdos that are just like himself before the taint of trauma sets in. Despite the fact that they've tangoed with death so many times, his children are so brave in the way they live their lives.

(iv)

Things really get serious when Eddie decides he can't be away from Steve long enough to drive between their places. He's sure his uncle is all that sad to see him go, anyway. They find a small house on the outskirts of Hawkins - since all of the kids are able to drive now, Eddie doesn't feel bad for the small commute they all have. There's a yard and a small garden and a porch that Steve likes to sit on in the mornings with hair still fresh from sleep and coffee in his hands. It's sappy and gross but Eddie loves Steve fresh from the covers - he's red and dark brown and fresh from hours of lying in Eddie's arms. Though Eddie always has to leave for work at the library relatively early, he's always happy to be a little late if it gets him a glimpse of his other half's easy beauty. If marriage were legal for them, Eddie's sure he'd be petitioning for a license faster than anything. He loves Steve with a surety that makes it hard to understand why anyone would think his love for the man is anything other than pure and real and the most perfect thing Eddie's every experienced.

Steve's blown away by Eddie's idea to live together - he's been sure that Eddie's glacial pace was around to stay. Their place is like a promise that keeps on giving every single day. The house is beautiful and the look on Eddie's face when he comes home for the day is worth every single glare and stare the man ever gave them in an attempt to deny them this happiness. Steve's long past worrying whether Eddie's going to rebel against things - their lives are much to wrapped up in each other's to think that anything could separate them. Steve's happy to know that Eddie likes to be the little spoon in the wee hours of the morning where monsters like to come out to play. He feels safe in Steve's arms when darkness starts to set in. Despite how weird it sounds, Steve knows that forever exists in that comfortability. The family that matters and the people he loves take him and Eddie for who they are. It's nice in the simple way that on a nice day, the sky was blue. For the first time in his life, Steve is sure of something.

(v)

Regardless of the validity of the gesture, Eddie decides to buy Steve a ring. It's silly, he knows that. Steve isn't much of a jewelry person that way that Eddie is but there's something to be said about sentimentality. Their life is permanent, there's no doubt about that. They share a mortgage and bills and grown ass adults that will always be their children. Some day, if Steve wants, Eddie thinks he might like to raise a few of their own. So, a ring means nothing, yet he craves the sight on Steve's finger like Honeycomb and chocolate milk on Saturday mornings. He gets it made, because what sort of nerd would he be if he didn't? It's gorgeous and perfect and just right for both the colors of their skin. Eddie's matching on is nestled next to the one he can't wait to give Steve. He rallies the troops and plans a big night out of it.

Though fate is sometimes kind, there are things that can't be helped - like trucks losing control on the highway. Steve's not able to discern what happens as he's loaded into the ambulance - his only concern is making sure that Eddie knows he's okay. Of course, since it's not legal for couples like them, Steve's parents are the first people notified. He almost laughs at the nurse when they inform him that they wouldn't be coming to the hospital. Steve is quick to give them Eddie's number and waits impatiently for him. Other than the concussion and broken foot, he's okay - but there were moments he thought he wouldn't be. It's a relief to see Eddie's wide eyes as he comes through the door. He's dressed in his best jeans and leather jacket, looking like their night he'd planned was going to be something special. It's too bad that Steve's stuck in a hospital bed, because he's thinking about peeling Eddie out of those pants and nows just not the right time. Eddie's got tears in his eyes and it's sad to see him so distraught. Things are still woozy enough that a black box being thrust in his hand is hard to make out until Eddie taps on the top, drawing attention to it again. Steve's not out of it enough to not realize what it means. His head is nodding before the box is opened and Eddie asks a babbled out version of a future that Steve never wants to live without. It doesn't hurt, either, that he's always had a thing for rings on Eddie's fingers. Steve can stand the heavy weight on his left hand if it means that Eddie wears one that matches.

Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #bobbie writes #5 au fun facts prompts

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kiruamon · 2 years

Text

Teacher-AU Part 10!

This time we dive right into the first story part.;)

"Did you have a good New Year's Eve?", the new year was only two weeks old when Oz once again found himself alone with Damien in the classroom, because the troublemaking prince of hell had gotten detention. At least this gave them a chance to continue their little game of question and answer. "Nice? Hah! It was much more than that! New Year's Eve was a blast! Absolutely rad!" it came enthusiastically from Damien. "And the best part is, I still have a few firecrackers left," the hobby arsonist announced with an ominous grin. Huh. Probably he should keep his eyes open a bit in the near future when Damien was around. "I'm sure you'll find a good use for them," Oz decided to answer in a relatively relaxed manner despite his hunch.

"You betcha!" New Year's Eve was simply awesome! Not only that it came so soon after Christmas, no, you were allowed to play with explosive stuff, make as much noise as you wanted, get drunk until morning and party until you drop! And all that without the cops getting on your nerves because of it! Gushingly Damien told his teacher about his nightly tour that evening. How much fun it had been to throw firecrackers into the occupied stalls of the public toilets, to fire rockets at carefree passers-by and to have the time of his life! And how he rounded it all off by throwing as many different fireworks on a huge pile as possible and then lighting it to see what would happen. Sure, he had scorched himself a bit during his experiment, but the result, the wildly whizzing and exploding fireworks, had been sooooo insane! Best New Year's Eve ever! The student still had to grin at the fond memory of the event. It was cool that Teach calmly listened to his stories instead of trying to give him a lecture for it, like most other lame adults. "Sounds like you had quite the time," his history teacher said instead when Damien finished. Damien's tail twitched in delight as he leaned back in his chair as casually as possible, merely nodding a little. "And you? What were you up to on New Year's Eve?" Had Teach gone out? He was a bit curious, to be honest.

"Nothing special. I spent the morning preparing dinner for the evening, some snacks and other things. Then I read for a while and picked out a few movies to pass the time until midnight. Oh, and I lit a few sparklers as the clock struck twelve, too." "That' s all?", Damien could hardly believe it. What was Teach? An old grandpa? "Nothing else? You've been sitting at home? All night? You weren't out? At a bar celebrating or something?", he hadn't actually taken his teacher for such an extreme stay-at-home type. How could someone not go out on New Year's Eve, of all nights? Or at least get drunk? Admittedly, it was a little hard for him to imagine Teach at a disco or some other very crowded place. But still!

Technically, that was already more than one question. But Oz left this fact uncommented for a change. After all, from the beginning this game was only meant to give them the chance to talk more freely with each other. Which, fortunately, had worked better over time than he had thought, as Oz realized again at this point. "Yes, that was all. I know it sounds terribly boring." "You don't say." Oz grinned a little at that remark. "Maybe I''ll manage to watch the fireworks in town next year." Merely wishful thinking. Oz knew that. But wasn't he still allowed to dream a little? Well, now it was his turn to ask another question. "Are there certain places I'd better avoid in the near future? In case a certain someone gets the idea to use his leftovers somewhere here in the school. Just speaking theoretically, of course." Damn. How he loved seeing that completely self-convinced grin on Damien's lips. "Might be better. Maybe you''ll get a hint from someone or something. Better take it seriously then." Damien was so cute when he pretended to be all secretive. "Hmm, I see. I guess I'd better follow your advice, then."

His turn again! But what should he ask Teach? Damien pondered when it was his move to ask a question. A mischievous grin crept across his lips. Oh, that was good! "Did you miss your number one favorite student over the holidays?" With a cheeky glint in his eye, he watched Teach's response with growing excitement. But his teacher obviously took the question with a bit of humor as he answered him with a cute smile: "Of course."

And more than you can imagine, Oz added silently in his head.

Oh boy! Damien hadn't seriously expected Teach to play along! But there he was, sitting in front of him, smiling brightly at him and telling him outright that he was his favorite student? Damien really struggled to not let show how… happy… that made him? … Was that feeling happiness? Argh! He couldn't put his finger on it! "Have you set any goals for this year?" Luckily, Teach changed the subject with his next question, so Damien could focus on something else rather than of these confusing feelings.

Oz held back a chuckle when he saw how baffled Damien reacted. He certainly wasn't going to let the other tease him that easily. Besides, it was kind of nice to be able to admit how much he liked him for once. Even if it happened in a roundabout way. And even if Damien would just think of it as a joke. However, his old friend quickly regained his composure. "You mean besides turning your class into an ocean of flames?" his current student countered with a challenging expression on his face and a perky smile. The entity couldn't help but smile in amusement at this. That was so typical of Damien.

Couldn't anything knock Teach off balance? With anyone else, such a reaction to a challenge or threat would have pissed him off, but not when it was his kind-hearted history teacher. "You just wait and see. You won't know what's coming at you till it's too late! I'll make sure of that." "I'm looking forward to it~" "Yes look forward to i- no! No, I don't want you to look forward to it!" Gaaaah! This guy was totally doing that on purpose! Damien's cheeks turned a little pink. Grumbling to himself he looked a little to the side. Dang it! Stupid dork! With his stupid smiling eyes! Looking all cheerful at him while Damien tried to threaten him!

He puffed softly without actually feeling so upset. It was whatever. Slowly calming down, Damien turned his head back to his conversation partner. "And what about you?" "With me? Hmm, I think I would like to be a little braver this year," Teach's answer came a little more hesitantly this time, which made him curious. "Brave? But you even took on a fucking brown bear last year!", how much braver did the guy intended to become? And why was his teacher looking at him in such surprise? Oh… Oh, fuck! Damien realizied his fault. Teach didn't even know he had witnessed that! "You know about it?", the white eyes slightly widened, he stared at Damien, who couldn't keep it a secret any longer now. "Eh. Accidentally passed by. Your fight… was pretty badass." Silence. Had Teach suddenly swallowed his tongue, or what? Did he even have one?

Why? Of all things, that was what Damien had to see? How he had wrestled with a wild bear? Was there, by any chance, a hole somewhere just his size that he could hide in? Like, for the next few months? "Oh… well… I don't know… I mean it just happened… ", Oz swallowed as his hands started nervously playing around with the fabric of his cloak, pulling it tighter around him.

"T-to tell you the truth… I'm… a little embarrassed a-about this whole bear thing," Teach stammered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand and avoiding eye contact all of a sudden. This was the first time Damien had seen his teacher acting like this. Just like the stuttering, which until now he had only known from the younger of the two brothers. It was almost funny to see such a big guy like Teach suddenly get all shy. The usually pitch-black cheeks of his teacher turned all white. White? Hadn't he seen that somewhere before? It took Damien a moment to remember. That's right! Wiz. When he cornered the little nerd! Wiz had turned white with… fear… right? Wasn't that the case? But why… was Teach also… ? Damien's head was working like crazy as he tried to understand what was going on here. His teacher was certainly not afraid. But what could this reaction mean? Could it be that… Damien could hardly believe it, but spoke it out anyway. Just to be sure. "Teach? Are you blushing?" unstoppable the question blurted out of his mouth. "W-what?" his teacher looked at him in shock. The hint of white on his cheeks spread even further and settled over the tips of his black ears! On top of that, Teach's silence lingered suspiciously long until the entity finally found his voice again. Fuck. He really was right about it, wasn't he?

Oz's hand moved to his cheek, which actually felt warmer than it normally did. Oh darn. This was really, really awkward now. And the worst possible time! And that Damien was staring at him so intensely the whole time didn't make it any easier for him! Oz blushing harder and harder with every second tried to play it down a bit, though his voice still didn't quite want to obey him and gave him a hard time as well. "It's not what it loo-... I mean... I guess it is… but… a-as I said this w-whole incident… it is really… nothing I'm too proud of. I let myself go a little too much… on that day. And t-that in front of you and the others. Before the eyes of my students and oh shoot. Please can we just forget this ever happened?," he somehow managed to suppress the stuttering of his voice a bit. Although not completely. Oz couldn't stand it any longer. He pulled his hood as far as possible over his head and in front of his face to prevent eye contact between them at least for a while. Until he found his inner balance again.

Fuck. At least now he knew for sure! Teach was really blushing! His heart made a small triumphant jump at this sight. Disappointingly, his little victory was taken away from him shortly after when Teach blocked him from looking directly at his face. Nevertheless, this image had already burned itself deeply into his brain. That even Teach could look cute… Mentally, Damien decided to add one more task to his list of goals for this year - to make Teach show him this incredibly cute side of him much more.

In addition, there was the 1st Valentine's Day in the 1st school year:

Damien doesn't usually get chocolate as a gift, despite his popularity, but just grabs it from all the love-struck idiots standing in his way. For him, Valentine's Day is almost as good as Halloween in that respect, because not only does he get to snag free candy, but he also gets to mess with his classmates.

Oz puts self-made chocolate in Damien's locker, along with a card that has Tempus fugit amor manet written on it. Damien has no idea what the gibberish on the card means, but he tastes the free chocolate regardless. And damn is it good! Sweet with little crunchy bits of iron and steel, and a fruity, spicy filling! He's never had such an awesome tasting chocolate before. Although he doesn't know why, he somehow feels like he's tasted this flavor before. Which is odd, because from the packaging it doesn't seem to be one from a store. But no matter how he racks his brains about it, nothing comes of it.

When Oz begins his lesson that day, he notices a remarkable amount of ash in the trash can next to the teacher's desk and the smell of cold smoke, which oddly enough has a slightly sweet note to it. Oz has no idea that Damien has watched all sorts of students put cards and boxes of chocolates into the teacher's desk drawer before the start of his class. Annoyed, Damien poured the entire contents of the drawer into the trash can and then thoroughly torched the stuff to eliminate any evidence.

Vicky meanwhile hands out friendship chocolate to the whole school (no exaggeration). (Students, teachers, Martin the werebear janitor, the cafeteria people… ) Only Scott and his cousins get chocolate-free cookies from her, because werewolves cannot eat chocolate without getting sick.

Instead of putting the friendship chocolate in Brian, Amira, and Vicky's lockers without asking, as he did with Damien, Oz put it under their school desks. He then secretly sent three of his little phobias to his friends during class with a handwritten note to inform them of the hiding place. Of course, Oz used different ingredients for the chocolate for his three friends than Damien's.

Damien let the piece of paper with the strange scribbling move back and forth between his fingers. Was this a summoning spell or something? He had thought of asking Liam if he knew anything about it. But he felt little desire to ask Count Dorkula for a favor. Or to run the risk of explaining where the message came from. Liam was always insufferable and awfully exhausting on Valentine's Day anyway. Babbling stuff about how Valentine's Day, like Christmas, was just about making more money. Or something like that… The vampire was probably arguing with Vera and Miranda about it right now. That meant it would just be a gigantic waste of time to run to Liam. A waste of his time! Damien thought hard about it until an idea came to his mind. That was it! There was someone who didn't attended Spooky High that he could ask for advice without making a big deal out of it! Immediately, Damien pulled his smartphone out of his back pocket and eagerly began typing away, glancing repeatedly at the strange words on the mysterious card to make sure he wasn't misspelling the text.

>> Hey Wiz! You there? Need your help. Got a super weird message from someone. << >> Tempus fugit amor manet. << >> Do you maybe know what that stuff means? Sounds like a whacky spell or something. <<

Huff. The end of his tail tapped restless against the edge of the sink while he ditched Latin class in the school's restrooms as usual, stuffing some more stolen chocolate into his mouth that didn't taste half as good as the one he'd found in his locker with the mysterious message. "Aaaaargh, come on," he grumbled angrily, glaring at the screen in a threatening way as if that would make the message arrive faster.

Damien was on the verge of smashing the sink to smithereens when the long awaited cry of tortured sinners finally came from his device, which he had set up as a ringtone for notifications. "Finally!"

>> That's Latin. << >> The text, I mean. << >> It's a saying. <<

Okay? All right. Latin it is. He had as little idea about that as he did about extracting roots in maths.

>> And what exactly does it mean? <<

Damien could hardly wait. He definitely wouldn't mind getting such cryptic messages more often when he found them in his locker along with chocolate. But still, he wanted some answers!

>> It translates to: Time passes - love remains. << >> Was there any name on it? <<

Of course there wasn't. Oz knew that. Still, he asked the question because it seemed more natural if he asked about it.

Time passes, love remains. Ooookay? That had to be the cheesiest thing he'd heard recently. Whoever had fallen for him must have had it pretty bad. Not that he could blame his anonymous admirer for having good taste.

>> Nah. No name. There was nothing else on it. << >> At least the chocolate that came with it was pretty neat. <<

But couldn't his anonymous fan just have given him a translation right away? Or did whoever it was seriously expected him to understand that stuff? Just because he was a demon?

>> So a real self-made Valentine's gift. Someone must really like you if they went to so much effort. <<

Damien's tail twitched approvingly at Wiz's message.

>> I'm not the sexiest single at our school for nothing! <<

Smirking, Damien sent off his reply as another thought occurred to him. He wondered how things looked with Wiz. Was the little nerd as annoyingly popular as his big brother? But somehow it was hard for Damien to imagine that.

>> And what about you? Did you get any love confessions as well? <<

It couldn't hurt to ask, the demon prince decided with a shrug. And admittedly, he was already curious.

>> Stop it you poser.:) <<

Cheeky little runt! Damien laughed softly, but still waited, as he could see that Wiz was still typing some more.

>> Me? Not at all. I got some friendship chocolate. But I doubt there's anyone who sees me like this. << >> I'm probably not standing out enough. <<

So no official or secret admirers trying to woo over Wiz. Phew, well at least he wasn't mimicking his older brother in that way too. Huh? Why was he even worried about it? It wasn't like it was any of his business. They weren't that close, after all. Damien shook his head slightly and leaned back a bit as he continued to tap away on his smartphone screen.

>> Apart from the fact that you went empty-handed today (friendship chocolates doesn't count). Have you maybe given someone chocolate?<<

He was really just trying to tease Wiz a little bit. The little guy seemed way too shy for doing such a thing. And Damien wasn't even sure if Wiz was in love with anyone.

Damien couldn't know... Impossible... Totally out of the question! Still, it was shocking how accurate the demon's statement was. What should he answer? Yes? No? Maybe? Oz leaned his head against one of the bookshelves of the library tower and desperately thought about how he should answer this message. It was not easy for him to decide. In the end, he didn't quite have the courage for an straight yes. But also not the determination to say no.

>> Maybe I did. << >> Sorry, I have to go now. Glad I could help, and I'll be sure to hear from you soon!:D <<

And with that, Oz closed the group chat in a hurry. He just couldn't admit anything more than that to Damien at the moment. But… "He liked it," he muttered quietly to himself with a small smile.

Meanwhile, a certain pyromaniac demon stared stunned at his phone. Maybe? What did that mean? Yes? No? Why had Wiz been so wishy-washy! Was the short one like his brother also one-sidedly in love with someone? Or was he just pulling his leg? What the heck was wrong with these brothers? And why was he so worried about it in the first place?

Later that day, lying on his bed at home, Damien scrolled through today's chat with Wiz again. What was he looking for? A hint. On whether the little smarty had hinted somewhere that he might have given away chocolate. But there was nothing. Only the translation. And after that, the comment about the self-made gift…. Damien sat up and bent so low over the screen of his smartphone that he almost poked it with his nose. Self-made? Wait a minute… Damien flipped through the messages once more. He hadn't mentioned that in a single word, had he? How had Wiz known about it? Had the short guy just guessed? There was a 50/50 chance to be right. Or had Wiz just assumed it? Was it a simple coincidence or not? What if it wasn't… what if… ? His face glowed slightly with heat at the notion. How likely could it be that Teach's little brother had made an indirect love confession to him?

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soundofseclusion · 1 year

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Pokemon Series Retrospective, Volume 1: Yellow

After the break: a Gen 1 kid talks about coming back to Gen 1 twenty years later.

Background

My first Pokemon game--quite possibly my first game ever--was Pokemon Blue. As a kid, like most kids born in the 90′s, I was obsessed with Pokemon. I collected the cards, I owned about a billion VHS tapes of the anime, I saw the movie in theaters. But I didn’t own a Gameboy until the GBA came out, when it was given as a present and became my first video game console. With it came a copy of Pokemon Blue, and that copy is sadly lost to time, but having owned that cartridge was what cemented my love for Pokemon. Arguably, Gen 2 was what captivated me more, but this isn’t about Gen 2.

My memory of it as a kid is somewhat limited, but I know that it was able to immerse me, and I know I managed to plow through it guideless. My final memory with Pokemon Blue is wandering into Cerulean Cave in the post game and getting my team wiped by a Venomoth.

After Blue, I owned several copies of Red, Yellow, Gold, Crystal... whatever I could buy for ten bucks at the secondhand shop near my apartments. I was enamored with seeing other peoples’ save files, but also with playing through the games over and over again with new teams.

My memories of the game are rose-tinted. It was one of my first video games, after all. But I’ve known in the years since I first played Gen 1 that it is dated. I’m aware of the weird and broken mechanics. I’m aware the game is balanced horribly. I’m aware it’s busted in multiple ways. But despite that all, I can’t help it. I'm firmly in the territory of “Gen 1 Enjoyer.” At the least, I was, but does that still hold true after playing Yellow in 2022?

Present Day

Yeah. I still think Gen 1 is a good experience. With several caveats.

I’ve already established that this Gen is broken. Psychic type is obscenely powerful due to several oversights. A small number of Pokemon are just objectively superior to every other Pokemon. The inventory system is terrible, as is the Pokemon box system, as is the PC item storage system. You can’t see what moves do in-game. Everything is slow and clunky and takes like twelve too many button presses. I have more gripes but I think it suffices to say that I can see the problems with the game.

In spite of that, yes, I think the game is fun. And, to get this out of the way first, at least in part because it’s janky. Sure, it sucks that inventory-management and HM use is a slog, and that certain Pokemon get left in the dust, especially when one of those Pokemon is supposed to be your special little buddy throughout Yellow (I found myself, on multiple occasions, staring at Pikachu’s stats and saying “oh my God, I wish I didn’t have to stick with this guy,” which, I know, you don’t have to, but how in the hell are you going to play a game called “Special Pikachu Edition” with a Pikachu that follows you and can interact with you and knows how to surf in a mini-game and decide not to use it?).

...But it’s also kind of funny. It’s funny that psychic type Pokemon basically have no weaknesses due to glitches and oversights. It’s funny that Pokemon like Snorlax can destroy and tank everything with ease. It’s even funny that you can get your entire team wiped by any Pokemon that can inflict status effects or use multi-turn moves (or, in some cases, both at once). It’s the kind of stuff that makes you roll your eyes with a smirk and waggle your finger at the screen.

But that’s not the main reason I’m still a Gen 1 Enjoyer. I like Kanto. I like the Gen 1 story. It doesn’t have a grand, sprawling, high-stakes story the likes of which we see in future generations. But the world is fully realized. I believe in Kanto as a region, with areas that connect to each other seamlessly and unlock with a pretty open-ended progression. I believe in the world of Pokemon, that these people bond with Pokemon, that there are clear consequences to allowing the antagonists to exist unimpeded, that there is a deep corruption running through the society which demands attention. This is the first time we see the recurring issue of: “why this kid?” But that’s just the nature of Pokemon games, and the stakes are certainly lower here than they tend to be later on. It at least makes some sense that you’d get roped into this, with the incompetency of the police force and the way your progress is actively halted by Team Rocket’s bullshit.

To unpack two things from that last paragraph: first, progression. It’s pretty open-ended, with most roadblocks being something you need to directly react to, instead of which disappear after, say, a gym is completed. Most progression is locked behind things like Snorlaxes, needing an HM, guards blocking the path, Team Rocket needing to be knocked down a peg, etc. Second, consequences. It can’t be ignored that this game talks about death a lot. Not just in creepy Pokedex entries or random lore; you’re confronted with the fact that Pokemon die and that people mourn them. The presence of death goes a long way coupled with the fact that this game world feels actively hostile towards you. You’re frequently locked into encounters you can’t escape from, trainers are often really aggressive towards you, it’s very easy to end up in battles which you are severely underleveled for, and you’re constantly surrounded by wild creatures which are absurdly powerful (albeit this is true for all generations). I think the only other game that has attempted this vibe is Legends: Arceus, which leans into it from a gameplay perspective.

I like both of these things, progression and a world with consequences, but more than anything, I like that this game still makes you feel like a kid on a big adventure. It captures the feelings of exploration and discovery that I felt playing any video game as a kid. Even as someone who’s essentially memorized every beat of Kanto’s storyline, I still felt it fun to progress, to explore the tucked away corners of the map, to enter a dungeon and find a legendary Pokemon. I still enjoy Gen 1.

#sound writes #pokemon series retrospective #pokemon #pokemon yellow #gen 1 #long post #games writing

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peachrabbit-twst · 2 years

Text

Tower 2 EP 6-66 Entire Chapter

EP 6-66-1

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus

JAMIL: It’s so deep I can’t see the bottom. JAMIL: The staff called this place “Tartarus,” correct? I wonder how many stairs it has.

LEONA: They mentioned it’s got twelve floors, but the map doesn’t say how many stairs there are between each floor. LEONA: Hey, gimme one of those tinkling things in your hair.

JAMIL: Huh? Oh, um, here.

Toss

Fyuuuuuuu…

LEONA: … No sound of it hitting the bottom. Looks like it’s safe to say there’s way over thirty, no, fifty staircases heading down.

JAMIL: Did you really have to use something of mine to test that?

LEONA: Then don’t hand it over in the first place. Quit sweating the small stuff.

JAMIL: … I’m not “sweating the small stuff.” It’s an honor to be of assistance.

LEONA: That ain’t what your smile says.

JAMIL: We should probably start by obtaining the anti-Phantom weapon “Thunder Spear.”

LEONA: It’s in the sixth floor storeroom, right?

JAMIL: According to the map, there’s an elevator nearby- there it is.

LEONA: No doubt it’s locked up to keep us from heading further down.

Whirrrrrr

Whoosh

JAMIL+LEONA: …

LEONA: And the moment we get to it, the doors open all on their own. LEONA: Those damn brothers are goading us on.

JAMIL: This entire facility’s under Ortho’s control, after all. JAMIL: I’m sure this is a trap. As it may be dangerous, I’ll go first-

LEONA: Let’s get a move on.

JAMIL: Wai- hold on- Leona! Please don’t barge ahead by yourself!

ORTHO: Hello! Welcome, Tower 2 participants, to the haunted asylum “Tartarus!”

JAMIL: Aaaand there he is.

ORTHO: Aw come on, why the lackluster response? I hoped you’d be a bit more surprised.

LEONA: We pitiful humans can’t possibly fathom the depths of a robot’s mind, now can we?

ORTHO: … Hehe. A “robot’s,” huh? ORTHO: Guess I’ll have to work a little harder for a bigger surprise next time! Of course… ORTHO: That’s if there’s a next time.

JAMIL: What?

ORTHO: I wonder if the two of you will be able to overcome the trials we’ve got planned?

LEONA: Trials?

JAMIL: Just what are you planning…!? Please stand back, Leona!

LEONA: How’s anyone supposed to “stand back” in a tiny little elevator like this? Geez, you’re annoying.

ORTHO: Tadaaa!

JAMIL: Hm? “Hydra’s Counterattack” is shining on the wall?

LEONA: You mean that ridiculous game we killed time with earlier?

ORTHO: That’s right! Your first trial is to clear “Hydra’s Counterattack!” ORTHO: If you can clear this game, I’ll grant you both the right to challenge us!

JAMIL: A video game? Now? What is he planning? JAMIL: Leona, I’ll play it.

LEONA: You will?

JAMIL: Challenging this recklessly is too dangerous when we have no idea what kind of traps there might be.

LEONA: It’s seriously just a TV video game.

JAMIL: We can’t be to careful. For example, we could get shocked the moment we grip the controller-

ORTHO: Come oooon, you’re overthinking this. I wouldn’t do something that violent.

LEONA: Hahhh… whatever. If you’re that hyped then have at it.

ORTHO: Our player this time is Jamil Viper! I can’t wait to see how he’ll do! ORTHO: Ready? Start!

Game Start

LOSE!

EP 6-66-2

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus

LEONA: Ahahaha! A game over in seconds? Laaaame.

JAMIL: Hold on a moment!! JAMIL: What was that!? The difficulty level so much higher than when Leona played!!

ORTHO: Of course it was! There’s no fun in playing a game the same way twice!

LEONA: Pretty lame show from someone who talked so big.

JAMIL: Who’s side are you on!? JAMIL: Still, I’ll take responsibility for my own loss. If it comes to it, I’ll sacrifice myself to-

ORTHO: Don’t take it so seriously! Games are for having fun, after all. ORTHO: All right, I’ll lower the difficulty for you! ORTHO: Grab that controller and get ready to try again!

Game Start

WIN!

EP 6-66-3

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus

JAMIL: All right! How’s that!?

ORTHO: This time you scored pretty high! Experience matters for sure. ORTHO: I hope you keep up that momentum and blast through the next few missions of Tartarus!

JAMIL: “Missions?”

ORTHO: Yep! From here on is an ultra hard dungeon chock-full of Phantoms. ORTHO: Better be careful so you don’t get ambushed by any monsters too high above your current level!

LEONA: Doesn’t matter to me what pops out on us. I’m gonna make it all the way down there and blow out both your hair. LEONA: Better look forward to it.

ORTHO: … Got it. I’ll wait right here with my big brother. ORTHO: I’m really, reaaaally and truly looking forward to seeing you!

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Emergency Exit

LEONA: The hell’s that supposed to mean? “Looking forward to seeing you?”

JAMIL: I agree. JAMIL: Calling Tartarus an “ultra hard dungeon” and treating this like a game…

LEONA: What, would that make all of us characters they’re controlling? Don’t make me laugh.

JAMIL: It seems this elevator won’t go any further. Let’s proceed down these stairs with caution instead. JAMIL: As we have no idea what could happen form here on out, please stay close to me.

LEONA: Hahh…

Ep 6-66-4 Tower 2

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Emergency Exit

JAMIL: All this walking and I’m still cold. JAMIL: This place is unexpectedly chilly.

LEONA: Tartarus is supposed to be a giant Phantom freezer. LEONA: If they started building this place back in the era of the gods, that’d explain why it’s set into the freezing depths of the ocean.

JAMIL: It’s not a good match-up for us, who are from the Sunset Savannah and the Scalding Sands.

LEONA: For sure. I can’t call this place comfy even with our temperature-regulating dorm uniforms.

JAMIL: Oh, do you need an extra layer? You’re welcome to borrow my sweater and adjust it with magic-

LEONA: Who asked for that? Besides, that’d defeat the purpose- you’d be slowing down from cold instead. LEONA: I’d rather hurry up and rip the leaves off that Radish Sprout so I can vacate this place and get some sleep.

JAMIL: Right. I’m worried about our school too.

LEONA: … Worried? About that place?

JAMIL: As of now the only housewardens remaining at Nightraven College are Malleus and Kalim. JAMIL: The entire school, Scarabia included, are no doubt chaotic right now.

LEONA: Hmmm LEONA: You’re saying you’re worried about leaving your housewarden in charge by his lonesome, is that right?

JAMIL: No, that’s not what I meant. Aren’t you concerned about the students of your dorm as well? JAMIL: Savanaclaw has no vice housewarden. Surely they’re in a panic with your absence.

LEONA: As if I care. They can do what they want.

JAMIL: How can you irresponsibly pass this off with “as if I care?” - Hm? JAMIL: I didn’t notice it before thanks to the draft coming from below, but… there’s another breeze.

LEONA: Yep. A light wind’s been blow at us from the side for the past few minutes.

JAMIL: Ah! Just ahead there’s a small side path from the wall!

LEONA: Too dark to see into it, and it’s a perfect place for anything to hide. LEONA: I’d say there’s a good chance a Phantom that’s thawed out already is hiding in there.

JAMIL: Please stand back. I’ll check it out alone.

LEONA: Huh? LEONA: Say what?

JAMIL: Hm? JAMIL: You’re the second prince of the Sunset Savannah as well as the housewarden of Savanaclaw. It’s only natural I go first. JAMIL: On top of that, I’m lighter on my feet. Oh, of course I’m not calling you slow or anything.

LEONA: ………

JAMIL: Simply put, I’m worried about you. Nothing I could do would make up for it if anything happened to you.

LEONA: Hah! Worried? “Make up for it?” LEONA: You actually think that you need to- hold up.

???: Screeee!!

LEONA: Looks like we’re too late. Something’s heading our way.

JAMIL: Of course it is… We’ll just have to face it!

Battle

Victory

EP 6-66-5

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Emergency Exit

PHANTOM: Screeeeee!!

Fshhhhh…

JAMIL: The Phantom dissolved into… a black sludge? It’s Blot! JAMIL: Ack, Leona, please don’t get too close to it! It might affect you!

LEONA: Tch. You don’t gotta keep warning me about the dangers of Blot or getting too close to enemies- I already know! LEONA: … Now that I get a good look at it that stuff’s disgusting. Makes my skin crawl.

JAMIL: The way it oozes like spilt ink, staining whatever it touches, then dries and vanishes- JAMIL: … Had we been stuck in Overblot, we might’ve ended up like that too.

LEONA: Hmm. LEONA: All mages are affected by Blot, no exceptions. The weaker and more untrained the mage, the worse the effect. LEONA: “I’ll check it out alone”? Well don’t you sound confident.

JAMIL: I simply chose the most efficient course of action. Since this is an emergency, we need to be extra cautious. JAMIL: According to the map, there’s an asylum where Phantoms are stored up ahead. JAMIL: The one from a few minutes ago might have escaped from there. JAMIL: From here on out we’ll doubtless be met with more and stronger Phantoms. JAMIL: I’d really prefer if we don’t intentionally seek out extra danger.

LEONA: Hahhh… what’re you, a herbivore cowering in the grass?

JAMIL: Wha- I’m not cowering from anything! I’m trying to make up for your lack of caution!

LEONA: That so? Whatever. Do what you want.

JAMIL: Then I’ll do exactly that.

EP 6-66-6

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Asylum

LEONA: I’m gonna wager a guess that all these tough-looking crates are cages.

JAMIL: The entire wall is made up of them. Are there Phantoms in every one of these?

ORTHO: That’s right!

JAMIL+LEONA: !!

ORTHO: You get to enjoy popping them open to find out what kind of surprise Phantom’s inside! ORTHO: It’s like opening a birthday present! Exciting, right?

LEONA: Ortho… how about showing yourself already? I missed you.

ORTHO: Oops! Hi there! ORTHO: It’s great to see the both of you are in tip top shape.

JAMIL: No thanks to you.

ORTHO: I thought loooong and hard after Leona Kingscholar said “We can’t possibly fathom the depths of a robot’s mind.” ORTHO: We’re finally all playing a game together, so it’s got to be an extra fun one! ORTHO: If “being human” means doing things that no person or machine expected… then I’ll pull it off too! ORTHO: Take a look at the top of the cage to your right.

LEONA: To the right… A paper? The hell? LEONA: D, O, U, R- “dour?” What’s this supposed to be, an introductory letter from your home?

ORTHO: Wroooong! That’s a password you’re going to need to get through here.

JAMIL: A password? JAMIL: Does that mean to “pass through here” the ID card we’ve used until now will be-?

ORTHO: You got it! I’ve already deleted the ID card you have on hand from the security system. It won’t work anymore. ORTHO: If you want to open this asylum’s door and move to the next stage you’ll need either a matching ID card or the correct password. ORTHO: What Leona Kingscholar has is only half of the password you need to open that door. ORTHO: The other half iiiis… hidden in one of these cages! ORTHO: Your next trial is to find the right password, open the door and continue on your quest! ORTHO: Best of luck to you!

LEONA: Damn, can’t punch a hologram.

JAMIL: By “hidden in one of the cages,” does he mean we have to open them ourselves?

???: Grahhh!!

LEONA: Looks like our jack-in-the-box is all ready to pop out on its own.

JAMIL: The caged Phantoms are starting to wake up. The longer we take, the worse our situation gets.

LEONA: Yeah, little though I wanna trust that midget’s words, it doesn’t look like we’re getting that door open or leaving from where we came anytime soon otherwise. LEONA: This is a total headache, but we’d better get started cracking open those cages and checking out the contents.

EP 6-66-7

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Asylum

PTM- 18776

JAMIL: I’m opening the cage. Please stand behind me.

LEONA: Tch, don’t order me around.

JAMIL: Then please do so before I have to say anything.

LEONA: Hahhh…

JAMIL: Judging by where the latch is on the cages that are already open, this cage’s latch is… there! Take that!

???: Graahhhhh!

JAMIL: It’s a Phantom!

LEONA: I can see that. We’re taking it out.

Battle

Victory!

LEONA: What’s the password?

JAMIL: Hmm. It seems to be “lion.”

LEONA: Lion?

JAMIL: In other words, “dour lion.” Or, “a grumpy lion.”

LEONA: Quit screwing with me-!

JAMIL: That password seems to be incorrect. I do think the contents were correct, at least.

LEONA: Your lip’s the one thing you’ve got going for you, huh?

PTM- 28155

LEONA: Next up’s that cage.

JAMIL: I’ll open this one too.

LEONA: I see Scarabia’s vice housewarden is still a child at heart. Can’t wait to crack open a present box, can we?

JAMIL: Wha- I just want to- JAMIL: Hahhh, talking to this person is pointless. I just have to put up with him until I’ve done what I need to.

???: Gyahhhh!

LEONA: And here comes our enemy. Let’s take it down.

Battle

Victory!

LEONA: Looks like there’s a password here.

JAMIL: “Fin present?” What does that mean?

LEONA: … “Fin ‘d our’ present.” They want us to find their present ourselves.

JAMIL: They sure are having fun mocking us, aren’t they?

LEONA: And on top of that it’s the wrong password.

JAMIL: Tch. That makes it even more irritating.

PTM- 11913

JAMIL: Please stand back while I open this cage.

LEONA: Well aren’t you all fired up. LEONA: Now that you’re done with your oh-so-helpful warning, can you get to it already?

Bang!

???: Screeeeeeeech!!

Battle

Victory!

PHANTOM: Gyaaaaahh!!

JAMIL: That takes care of that cage’s Phantom.

LEONA: Any password note?

JAMIL: Let me see… here it is!

LEONA: What’s it say?

JAMIL: It says… JAMIL: … We should head for the door. JAMIL: It opened! So those words were correct.

LEONA: I’d figured that midget coulda been spilling nothing but lies, but looks like he wasn’t. LEONA: So? What was the password?

JAMIL: … You’re better off not knowing. It’s ticked me off, at least.

LEONA: Just spill it.

JAMIL: Hahh. JAMIL: The only thing on that note was the word “best.”

LEONA: “Best?” If we connect that with the first word were given, we get… LEONA: “Do UR best!” LEONA: Those little- mocking us like this-!!

JAMIL: And that is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you- it would infuriate anyone.

EP 6-66-8

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Emergency Exit

JAMIL: The stairs continue down from here.

JAMIL: There’s a good chance that any Phantoms that escaped are hiding up ahead like the those we came across earlier. JAMIL: On top of that we have no idea what else Ortho left in wait for us. Please proceed with care.

LEONA: Phantoms aside, I doubt we’ve gotta worry about that Radish Sprout and his little brother for the time being. LEONA: As fixated as those two are on calling this whole deal a “game,” LEONA: There’s only so much they can do to mess with us all the way from that bottom floor. LEONA: My guess is the most we can expect while on these stairs is a Phantom or five getting in our way. LEONA: Though now that I think about it, they’re going about this in a real roundabout way. Hmmm…

JAMIL: You’re right. JAMIL: I did notice something regarding Ortho, to be honest. JAMIL: If you may recall, when you were fascinated by the game screen while we were passing time earlier today-

LEONA: You looking to become sand?

JAMIL: I’m not the one who described it that way. JAMIL: As I was saying, when you were “batting at the screen,” as Vil and Idia put it…

LEONA: ……

JAMIL: None of us felt the slightest hint of malice from Ortho.

LEONA: Of course not. He’s a robot. They don’t feel emotions in the first place. LEONA: The most they can do is display reactions according to their programming. LEONA: They’re neither good nor evil.

JAMIL: I’m aware. JAMIL: However, when you mocked him for being a robot earlier, Ortho was visibly annoyed. JAMIL: And when he fired back that he would have a “surprise” waiting for us, there was clear malice in his words. JAMIL: Almost as if he were a real human.

LEONA: A human, huh. LEONA: I’d buy it if Idia programmed him to act like an annoying little brat.

???: Screeeech!

JAMIL: Look out!

LEONA: Wha-!?

JAMIL: The Phantom climbed up from below!

PHANTOM: Screee, screeee!!

JAMIL: I’ll clean this one up in a heartbeat!

EP 6-66-9

JAMIL: Phew. Are you all right, Leona?

LEONA: Am I “all right”…? LEONA: What the hell were you thinking?

JAMIL: Huh? What do you mean-

LEONA: I’m not so pathetic I need you jumping in front of every little thing to protect me.

JAMIL: That wasn’t my intention at all-

LEONA: Deflecting an attack like that’s child’s play. You think I didn’t notice that Phantom was there? LEONA: The plan was to lure it to a wider area and take it out all at once, not to flail around on this narrow staircase. LEONA: Impressive how badly you managed to screw that up by needlessly “protecting” me.

JAMIL: Then why didn’t you tell me what you were planning ahead of time instead of complaining after the fact when I interfere because I didn’t know? JAMIL: Besides, I took what I judged to be the best course of action after you told me “to what I want.”

LEONA: Sure, that’s what I said. What I didn’t say was to drag me down with you.

JAMIL: Drag you down?

LEONA: You got hurt “protecting” me, didn’t you? Don’t bother pretending you didn’t. LEONA: We’re marching through enemy territory and they’re all gonna come flooding at us now that one of us has shown weakness. LEONA: If I’d have known you’d , I’d have gone with that eight-faced octo-creep instead. LEONA: Instead I’m saddled with dead weight.

JAMIL: … “Dead weight?” As if. Unlike Azul, I’ve been trained as an escort. JAMIL: Clearly that makes me a better choice to protect you than someone with no stamina. JAMIL: As intelligent as you are, I’m sure you can see that much.

LEONA: You seriously haven’t noticed a thing, have you? I’m starting to pity you.

JAMIL: Say what?

LEONA: Now’s not the time- there’s the door to the next asylum.

JAMIL: Wait- I’m not done- JAMIL: … Hmph. You’ll find yourself in trouble soon enough. JAMIL: And when you do, you’ll regret that you didn’t listen when I said to be careful.

EP 6-66-10

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Asylum

ORTHO: Welcome to the third trial!

JAMIL+LEONA: ……

ORTHO: Is something wrong? Did you get into a fight?

JAMIL: None of your business.

ORTHO: Ooooh, scaryyyy! Don’t lash out at me just because you’re sulking! ORTHO: I’m worried whether you’ll be able to complete your next trial at this rate, that’s all. ORTHO: And the next mission iiiis… “He who controls the water controls all!” ORTHO: A real hero keeps fighting even when he’s up to his knees, after all!

LEONA: Water? Are you talking about those pools of water?

ORTHO: Exactly! Those puddles are a coolant to keep everything here nice and cold.

???: Is anyone there!? Help me!!

JAMIL: Was that a voice!?

LEONA: It’s coming from by that toppled cage!

RESEARCHER: Please, help me- cough cough!

JAMIL: Is that a S.T.Y.X. employee? Did he get caught in the coolant and miss his chance to escape? JAMIL: It’s dangerous here! Please get out of there and-

RESEARCHER: I can’t!

LEONA: Tch… Real fine hobbies you got there Ortho, tying people by the ankle to cages so they’re stuck in coolant.

JAMIL: I’ll use magic to sever the rope.

ORTHO: Hmmm, are you sure it’ll be that easy? What if it’s not a normal rope?

LEONA: Say what?

ORTHO: That’s one of the cables controlling everything in this asylum. Cut that cable and ALL the cages in here will pop open! ORTHO: The only way to rescue the researcher without that happening is to unlock the shackle around his ankle! ORTHO: And those cages are real heavy- the longer you wait, the deeper he sinks. Heehee! ORTHO: Can you find the key before the researcher drowns? ORTHO: Best of luck to you!

RESEARCHER: Save me!! My foot’s tied to this cage-!

JAMIL: At this rate he’s going to drown!

LEONA: Tch… Looks like for this “trial” we’ve gotta save that researcher if we wanna keep going.

JAMIL: … Clearly this isn’t the place or time to be bickering with one another.

LEONA: Got that right. Let’s hurry up and find that key. LEONA: Hey you, where’d Ortho hide the key?

RESEARCHER: Sa- save meeee!! I don’t want- to drown-!!!

JAMIL: He’s panicking too much to hear us. We’re better off breaking into those cages ourselves.

EP 6-66-11

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Aylum

PTM- 3187

Rattle rattle!

LEONA: Looks like we’ve found ourselves an extra lively Phantom.

JAMIL: Indeed. It may burst out as soon as we open the door. JAMIL: Perhaps we should distance ourselves from the cage before using any magic. Leona, you should step back as well- JAMIL: Le- Leona!?

LEONA: Quit dawdling, here it comes!

Battle

Victory!

LEONA: … No key, huh. What a waste of time.

JAMIL: What were you thinking?

LEONA: Hmmm? Is there perhaps something bothering you?

JAMIL: The one to open the cage should have been me, if you’d read the room instead of blasting the cage from behind me.

LEONA: Oh, were you looking forward to opening the cage that much? So sorry for stealing your fun. LEONA: And here I thought you were getting cold feet, backing up like that.

JAMIL: Absolutely not! I was moving back in case the Phantom were to attack straight away-

LEONA: I got it, I got it. Now drop it so we can move on to the next cage.

PTM- 2510

JAMIL: I’ll open this cage next. JAMIL: (Or so I say, but it’s dangerous to keep using magic so carelessly.) JAMIL: (I’d rather not run out of energy before we get to our goal. Best to hold back any way I can.) JAMIL: Le- Leona!? Please don’t blast open the cage out of nowhere!

LEONA: You sit there and watch. I’ll have this cleaned up in a heartbeat.

JAMIL: Huh? Leona!? Hold up! JAMIL: Who do you think I chose to be the one to open the cage for!? Dammit, why does he keep doing everything out of nowhere-!

Battle

Victory!

LEONA: … No key here.

JAMIL: Unfortunately. JAMIL: About earlier…

LEONA: Earlier? … Oh, that. LEONA: Why’d you join in after I told you to sit back and watch?

JAMIL: As if I could listen to that when we have no idea what could happen here! JAMIL: How many times must I ask you to not go off and do things by yourself? JAMIL: Hahhh… This is wearing me out. Please, please don’t do that again.

PTM- 5044

LEONA: Next up’s this one.

JAMIL: All right. I’m ready to open it. Hah! JAMIL: … Nothing’s coming out. Is this cage empty? JAMIL: I’ll take a closer look, and you can-

LEONA: Stay back, you idiot!

???: Gugyaaaahhhh!

JAMIL: Ngh-!!

LEONA: Damn, you’re such a handful.

JAMIL: Leona…!

LEONA: Save the thanks for later!

Battle

Victory!

LEONA: This one’s got nothing.

JAMIL: … Thank you for helping me. JAMIL: I’ll be sure to return the favor as soon as possible.

LEONA: Too bad I’m not expecting much. C’mon, let’s head for the next one.

JAMIL: Ghh… JAMIL: … All this trouble doesn’t change the fact that working together with Leona has worked well for me. JAMIL: For now I need to be patient.

PTM- 8812

LEONA: Think it’s this cage?

RESEARCHER: Whatever it takes- I don’t care- please- save meeee!!

LEONA: This guy’s freaking out so bad he’s not hearing a word we say.

JAMIL: He’s actually making it harder to help him. This just goes to show how important it is to retain one’s calm at all times. JAMIL: … Whether or not there’s a key in there, the Phantom in that cage has definitely woken up.

LEONA: Time to take it out and see if it’s got a key.

Battle

Victory!

Clink!

JAMIL: There’s the key! This was the right cage after all. Now to free the S.T.Y.X. employee.

RESEARCHER: Hurry… ugh… I can’t- breathe…!

JAMIL: Please calm down and stop flailing about! I’m trying to help you!

LEONA: Hold on a sec. LEONA: You. Stand up.

RESEARCHER: Huh? Stand?

EVERYONE: ……

JAMIL: For the love of- JAMIL: The coolant barely reaches your chest!

RESEARCHER: I guess I was freaking out so much I never noticed…

LEONA: Is everyone here at S.T.Y.X. a complete idiot?

RESEARCHER: Urk… now I’m being mocked by students… RESEARCHER: I got too scared to think straight, sorry.

LEONA: If you’ve got time to get depressed you’ve got time to hand over any password or ID card we can use to keep going down. LEONA: You’ve work here, you’ve got one, right

RESEARCHER: Yeah. I’ll be in your way if I come with, but I want to say- RESEARCHER: Please, save this Isle of Woe- no, save the world!

JAMIL: I can’t make any promises, but we’ll do everything we can.

6-66-12

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Emergency Exit

JAMIL: … The sixth level, at last. According to the map, the “Thunder Spear” should be in a storeroom on this floor.

LEONA: Hey.

JAMIL: What now? More complaints?

LEONA: No. LEONA: It’s way too damn cold.

JAMIL: Huh? Yes, it’s cold, but it’s been cold for a while now.

LEONA: That’s from the chill coming from below. I’m talking about the breeze that’s been getting stronger the past few minutes. … Something’s coming.

JAMIL: “Something?” JAMIL: Whoa!? Now it’s gusting!? JAMIL: It’s like a blizzard, ice in the wind and all!

Rooooooaaaarrrrrr…

LEONA: Ngh, the wind just keeps getting worse. Not to mention that wail… LEONA: !! Here it comes!!

Battle

Enemy HP: 47000

Victory!

EP 6-66-13

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Emergency Exit

JAMIL: It’s ridiculously strong! Could this be the “Phantom Titan Crystal?”

TITAN: JUUUUPITEEEEERRR! WHEEEERE ARE YOUUUU!? LET ME FREEEEEZE YOUUUU!!

LEONA: Tch, this is going nowhere. We’re backing off and regrouping! LEONA: King’s Roar!

JAMIL: A- amazing… the ice is all turning to sand!

LEONA: Yeah, yeah, I’m amazing, but now’s not the time to stop and stare! LEONA: This way!

JAMIL: R- right!

S.T.Y.X. Tartarus- Storeroom

LEONA: We made it to the storeroom, at least. LEONA: This facility’s so fancy I’d like to think they built all the doors sturdy enough to handle that thing, but…

TITAN: COOOOME OUUUUT!!

JAMIL: Ice is forming over the door, massive as it is! At this rate it’s only a matter of time before the Titan breaks it down and forces its way in here!

LEONA: We’ve got no chance facing a monster like that head on without any help. LEONA: I’ll hold it off for the moment- you better hurry and find that Thunder Spear!

JAMIL: All right! JAMIL: Shelf B-16… there it is! JAMIL: Wait, this is supposed to be a spear!? It’s longer than I am tall! JAMIL: How are we even supposed to use something this big? JAMIL: No, hold on, we should be able to if we activate the control system. Insert the start-up key here, like the staff members said…

SYSTEM: Code: Titanomachy. Authorizing Level A Emergency Plan. SYSTEM: Magic battery charging complete. Power level 100%. SYSTEM: Activating Thunder Spear. SYSTEM: To activate, touch the panel to register the user.

JAMIL: Touch… the panel- JAMIL: … No, wait. If I register myself as the user… JAMIL: There’s no way I’d be able to control this spear’s crazy amount of power.

SYSTEM: To activate, touch the panel to register the user. SYSTEM: To activate, touch the panel to register the user.

JAMIL: … Darn it all! I’d better call over Leona!

TITAN: FREEZE… FREEZE IT ALLLLL…!! GRAAAHHHH!!

LEONA: Quit whining, you damn bedhead!

JAMIL: I found the Thunder Spear!

LEONA: Took you long enough to get back here. LEONA: Lead the way. I’ll cover your back, so head for that Thunder Spear and don’t turn around!

JAMIL: R- right! JAMIL: Over there, that glowing thing’s the Thunder Spear!

SYSTEM: To activate, touch the panel to register the user. To activate, touch the panel to register the user.

LEONA: Heh, looks like you waited like a good boy this time.

JAMIL: … Well, all you told me to do was “find that Thunder Spear.”

LEONA: Good.

SYSTEM: To activate, touch the panel to register the user. To activate, touch the panel to register the user.

LEONA: I got it, I got it, quit kicking up a ruckus like a rhinoceros. LEONA: So all I gotta do is touch this panel…

SYSTEM: User registration complete. Safety lock released. Activating support mode.

LEONA: This thing’s so heavy and crammed with magic I can barely levitate it! LEONA: Why’d they have to make this thing such a handful? LEONA: Are you telling me those S.T.Y.X. lot can lift this thing like a feather?

JAMIL: (Even Leona’s having a tough time with it! If I had registered myself instead of leading him to it…)

TITAN: GRAAHHHHHH!! WHEEEEERE AAAARE YOUUUUUU!!!

LEONA: … It’s almost here. LEONA: Listen up. We’re gonna break that thing’s nonexistant nose right off its face. LEONA: Problem is, this loose cannon’s gonna take a minute to aim. I need you to smack that Titan with magic and buy me some time.

JAMIL: All right!

Battle

Enemy HP: 47000

LEONA: You’re more trouble than you’re worth!!

Victory!

EP 6-66-14

S.T.Y.X. Tower 2- Storeroom

TITAN: RAAAAAGHHHH!!

JAMIL: All right! The Titan fell back into the pit of Tartarus!

LEONA: Ughh… talk about an unpleasant opponent. Now my tail’s all frosted.

SYSTEM: Thunder Spear battery level low. Remaining power: 10%. SYSTEM: Please return to charging station.

LEONA: What, it’s down already?

JAMIL: Considering how much power its one shot had, it’s not surprising.

LEONA: Tch, what a pain. Best plan’s to charge it, I guess- there’s no telling what we’ll run into after this. LEONA: Let’s go. LEONA: Three hours to full charge. LEONA: Sounds good to me. This place is stocked with emergency rations somewhere, so let’s rest here for now.

JAMIL: … Understood.

EP 6-66-15

S.T.Y.X. Tower 2- Storeroom

Three hours later…

SYSTEM: Thunder Spear charging complete. All systems functioning normally.

JAMIL: Leona, the Thunder Spear’s finished charging. JAMIL: … Hm? Leona?

LEONA: ZZZZZ…

JAMIL: He’s asleep!? Seriously!? At a time like this!? JAMIL: Leona, please wake up!

LEONA: … Fwaahhhh… Is it done charging?

JAMIL: It is. I’ve collected some food and first aid supplies from around the storeroom; we can leave anytime.

LEONA: … Hey. Did you not hear me say “let’s rest here?”

JAMIL: What if we run into another enemy like that thing? We can’t let our guards down. JAMIL: The next place we can resupply is two levels down at the eighth level. If we’re not careful we won’t make it that far-

LEONA: Ahhh sure, fine, I get it. If that’s how you wanna do things, go right ahead. LEONA: Let’s just get going.

End 6-66 Tower 2

#jamil viper #leona kingscholar #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland translation #twisted wonderland

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pluckyredhead · 2 years

Note

For the ask game, how about jon kent and damian?

Jon:

First impression

I was read the Convergence issue where he was born when it came out, so my impression was basically "I can't believe they named him Dad Dad Kent." Naming him after Jonathan Kent is fine, but in the continuity Jon originally hailed from, Sam Lane literally committed genocide against Kryptonians including Clark's aunt (Kara's mom), so...no?

Impression now

HE IS MY PRECIOUS CHILD. THE GOODEST BOY. THE SUNSHINE OF MY LIFE. I adore Jon Kent with every fiber of my being. Lois and Clark are one of my all-time favorite couples in any media ever and I adore all Supers so I was already primed to love Jon, but then when it turned out he was a blend of Clark's sweetness and earnestness and Lois's dogged curiosity and love of speaking truth to power PLUS he's secretly a little shit? Heart eyes, motherfucker. If I could turn back time he would be twelve years old right now but he great up real good even if his current series is sort of bland. He's perfect and I would bake him a pie if I could.

Favorite moment

All of the original Super Sons run but also his very first meeting with Damian from just before it, where Damian KIDNAPS him and he wakes up strapped to a table in a cave and like thirty seconds later he's trying to befriend Damian and complimenting his cow. WHAT A PURE HEART. Oh oh oh and this:

That endlessly open heart, I weep! His first meeting with Kon was also very very good. And him earnestly telling the Legion that his dad's best friend is his mom and they're like "Gross." I JUST LOVE EVERYTHING HE DOES EVER.

Idea for a story

Oh I have nine million. The three topmost at the moment are: the DamiJon shifter AU that's the sequel to the JayRoy shifter AU that is fighting me tooth and nail (ha); the sprawling art school AU which has Jon as a new student at the Gotham Academy of the Arts as one of the main plot threads and which I'll probably never actually write; and a long heartwarming genfic that actually digs into the relationships between Jon and Kara and Kon and which again I will probably never write, alas.

Unpopular opinion

I don't know if I have an unpopular opinion, per se, but my two biggest pet peeves with how I see Jon treated in fandom are 1. removing or downplaying Lois's importance in his life, as if he isn't a little mini Lois as much as he's a little mini Clark, and 2. using him as some sort of emotional labor minion for Damian and never allowing him to be a fully realized character who can make mistakes and experience hurt.

Favorite relationship

I mean, Damian, obviously. I love how well they balance each other. They have all the opposites attract goodness of Clark and Bruce but they're much more fun. Jon brings out Damian's softness and ability to be better; Damian brings out Jon's little shit-ness, which is actually really important because Jon can be a bit of a pushover sometimes, and Damian's particular form of playful irritation encourages him to actually stick up for himself. They're also deeply protective of each other, even when they're very young - Damian LITERALLY made a solemn vow to Clark that he would always keep Jon safe!!! In canon!!! I'm losing my mind!!!

I also love the aspect of "my destiny includes you" in their friendship. Like, not to downplay the importance of Kon or the other Batkids, all of whom I obviously love, but from the moment Jon and Damian met, it was like "Oh, we are going to be Superman and Batman someday, we are going to be partners and teammates and brothers in arms for the rest of our lives, you are my destiny," to which Jon's reaction was "Well, we might as well be friends, too" and Damian's was "UGH." (And now Jon's reaction is "We belong together" and Damian's is "UGH but also you're mine." 😍)

Favorite headcanon

Jon's hair only has two modes, "slightly messy" and "extremely messy," even when he's an adult. There's something permanently boyish about him.

Damian:

First impression

I was deeply invested in Stephanie Brown as Robin and furious when she died, so when within two years they had brought back Jason and introduced Damian - replacing the only in-continuity girl Robin with not one but two more boys - I was even madder. Stupid Jason and Damian! Who needs 'em?

Impression now

It was actually Steph who made me fall in love with Damian half a decade later, in her Batgirl series. I was like "Ohhhh, this terrible murder baby doesn't know how to play" and I was done. Reading every single one of his appearances (I am...not a person who likes things by halves) just cemented it.

So yeah, I love Damian. I love that he's obnoxious and vain and petty and often cruel. I love that he dotes on animals at the same time and doesn't see it as a contradiction. I love that he's trying so hard to learn how to express himself, to love and trust others when he was taught not to. I love that his affection comes in sudden bursts of passion or grandiosity (see above re: his solemn vow to Clark). He is a tragic figure and an inspiring figure and a stone cold badass, but he's also really fucking funny, and all of that at once is a rare combination.

Favorite moment

All of the Jon stuff above. The moment he and Dick realize they're both not dead and he flings himself into Dick's arms. When he tells Jason he's going bald. As shattering as it is, Goliath's origin. When he frees his clones. But also:

And, like, Bruce is a terrible garbage father even within the context of this story, but this moment always gets me:

I'M GONNA CRY.

Idea for a story

All of the Jon stuff above, again, but also I would really like to write something long exploring all the various Batkids' relationships. I particularly want to write more about Damian and Tim, their dynamic is so fascinating to me.

Unpopular opinion

I tend not to agree with posts that are like "Damian thinks X about various Green Lanterns" or "Damian thinks Y about various Flashes" or whatever because I just don't think Damian thinks about other people that much? Which is kind of a joke but really, he's both very self-involved and very practical, so what does he care what Hal Jordan is doing?

Favorite relationship

Jon, obvious, but also his relationship with Dick is so beautiful to me (and I find Dick...pretty boring otherwise, so that's saying a lot). I'm loving his interactions with Connor in his current serious. AND GOLIATH!!!

Favorite headcanon

I don't think Damian trusts his own moral compass, because he was taught one thing until he was ten and then something completely different and it taught him not to trust his instincts. I don't think he refrains from killing because he's internalized that it's wrong, but because Bruce and Dick told him that's The Rule and he's very good at following rules (when he wants to). This is fine in the field but it's why I keep writing about him struggling with his attraction to Jon and sex and consent and any possible age differences, because Bruce and Dick didn't give him a rule about that and he doesn't trust himself to know what's right (and also Ra's does whatever he wants and Bruce never lets himself have anything he wants, so clearly if Damian wants something it must be morally wrong and the correct ethical decision is to deprive himself of it, right?). Oh, Damian.

Also, on a lighter note, I always hear his voice as just slightly British in my head, mostly because a child being imperious always sounds posh to me.

#jon kent #superboy #damian wayne #robin #super sons #meme

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alovesongshewrote · 3 years

Text

Beauty, Beast, Bullets - Your Resume

Plot: yeah, yeah, Romania is full of vampires, werewolves, and metal-men, but the reader is not phased. In fact, they’re rather experienced. Heisenberg, specifically, is intrigued. [Karl Heisenberg x GenderNeutral!Reader]

Word Count: 1,191

Warnings: so, y’know the outlast games? trigger warning for basically everything that was in those games.

A/N: surprise, this is technically a crossover with Outlast and The Magnus Archives, but not really! you don’t need to know anything about either of those things to read this, it’ll just be really fucked up instead of, “Oh hey, I know what they’re talking about!”

Anyway, this fic is like, rated M for mature, so please read with caution

taglist: @mxcheese @blixeon @valentimmy @prismarts @chrysanthykios

masterlist

Back | Next

The village wasn’t your first brush with the weird and wacky horrors this world has to offer. Technically, it didn’t start with the asylum and Murkoff, either. Nah, your complicated relationship with the supernatural started when you got lost in a never-ending corridor at the age of twelve. That was a trip and a half, but really, it wasn’t. You’d never done drugs, and you weren’t asleep. Back then, you even had a normal sleep schedule. It was just a weird experience, though you got the sense that your therapist would doubt that. Especially since that fun trip wouldn’t be your last encounter with some pretty fucked up shit.

After the hallways, you’d been chased by creatures made of shadow, beings without faces, and honest to god, actual fucking werewolves. It wasn’t great. Your teenage years were spent cowering in fear, running from every threat that came at you, and trying not to die.

“Wasn’t great” is an understatement. Your teenage years fucking sucked.

Eventually, you got tired of being scared. You were sick of the fear. You hated it, and that led you right to the BSAA. You learned, there, how to fight the things that frightened you.

Fighting didn’t stop them. You spent your days seeing things out of the corners of your eyes and readying yourself to run at any moment. You felt eyes on your back, watching you, always. You felt hunted. You felt like you were losing your mind.

And then, one day, it all stopped. Not because you destroyed the source or anything, it just ended. You remember it was as if all of the monsters that lived to torment you had been removed from the universe in a millisecond.

Your fear was gone.

But the BSAA was not.

You had been working for the BSAA for about two years when the first Murkoff thing went down. Some guy with too much money and too much time had been conducting human experiments under the facade of an asylum, shit happened, the experiments escaped, and somehow, a couple of journalists got to the scene before you. Poor bastards.

The “Mount Massive” incident was a bit of a big deal, but, of course, it wasn’t big enough for the BSAA to send anyone important, so, they sent you. You had never been more afraid for your life than you were within those walls.

Your monsters were gone, and some cruel god had decided to replace them with innocent and guilty people alike tortured beyond recognition. You got the more docile of the survivors out of that hell and into actual healthcare. The more violent survivors had to be dealt with differently.

Once the site was cleared of survivors, you were then instructed to clean the asylum, just to make sure any biohazards ended up in the right hands. Really, you should’ve just burned the building. The asylum itself was a biohazard, soaked in blood, shit, and semen. The stench of piss and vomit permeated every space you entered. Every room was filled with more corpses than a damn graveyard. It was awful. And then, you found the tapes.

Hours upon hours of someone’s last moments, though you couldn’t tell his name, you could tell that he was really, really dedicated to his job. You never found his body.

You found others, though. Cadavers and corpses piled on top of each other, burned, and broken, and mutilated in ways you didn’t want to think about, much less describe. Then there were the documents, piles of paper detailing exactly what the fuck had been done to the patients over the asylum’s operating years. You had to read each and every one of them. At least half were stained with blood. For the first time in a long time, you were afraid again. You hated it.

You did not have a good time.

But you did a good job.

Good enough that the next time the Murkoff corporation fucked up, you were sent in once again.

Joy.

The second time, the mess was in Arizona. It was some cult that got fucked over by its proximity to another experiment. The people living there lost their minds entirely. The few you found alive were riddled with disease and bloodlust. There was one survivor, that time, and he wasn’t even a member of the cult. He was another fucking journalist, ironically enough. When you found him he was a muttering, shambling mess, tripping over corpses and calling out for someone named Jess.

You had him evacuated as quickly as possible.

He couldn’t get out of there soon enough.

That left you to investigate the wreckage. Once again, the entire location was covered with blood and shit, though it had the slim advantage of being mostly outdoors.

The bodies were worse, the second time around. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to seeing corpses at that point, you were more than used to seeing corpses. It was just that there were kids that time. Dead kids, and skinned adults. Perfect.

Of course, that wasn’t all of them. Most of the bodies had evidence of poison in their systems, which, admittedly, made clean up easier. For the most part.

Just before the Arizona cult had come onto the BSAA’s radar, there had been an explosion in the mountains. That was actually why your bosses knew about the damn thing in the first place. The ruble was a joy to clean up, honestly.

In the months that followed, you tried to wash the blood off of your hands. It wouldn’t leave. It was a small mercy that you weren’t afraid of the cult’s remnants, but something worse hung on your shoulders. Guilt. Despair.

You’d spent the majority of your Spring cleaning up corpses, it was valid to feel that way. You deserved time to grieve. The BSAA did not care. You were on the field again before the end of the year.

At least your third case wasn’t a Murkoff thing. Nope, you’d been deemed important enough to serve under Chris fucking Redfield, which was apparently a big deal, but by then you didn’t really care.

There were fewer corpses that time. It was mostly just black goop. Sometimes, you had to shoot the black goop. It wasn’t much you hadn’t done before, all things considered. It was just another rotten place, further along than most, but decomposing nonetheless. You weren’t scared. You didn’t feel guilty or sad, either. Just disgusted.

There were more survivors, though. That was nice. They weren’t even journalists, which was a bonus. You were actually enjoying the slight change of pace.

Then Chris Redfield pulled you aside and told you to quit your job.

That was a little bit too much change.

You did it anyway.

The BSAA should’ve given you more time off.

For a while after that, you just floated in space, waiting for something to happen. Life became mundane. Boring. It almost made you long for another endless corridor to run down, or a faceless crowd or shadow creature to chase you.

You didn’t get any of those things.

But you did get werewolves because Chris “boulder-punching asshole” Redfield sent you to buttfuck nowhere Romania. It was plagued with werewolves. You were warned of this.

You went anyway.

#karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg x reader #Karl heisenberg x y/n #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x you #re8 x reader #resident evil 8 x reader #beauty beast bullets #lovesong's writing

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theasstour · 3 years

Photo

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟕.𝟓𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and sent me an ask after last chapter ❣️ I might not have gotten through all the asks yet, but know that I see all of you and I appreciate you more than I will ever find the right words to articulate 🌟 Thank you for the kind words and for reminding me of how fun it is to post my stories on here! Love you sm sm sm 🥰

Tuesday, 4 November 2017

One of the worst things Y/N knew of was seeing someone she cared about go through something troubling. If she knew them well enough, it would be written out on their face and in their gestures, making it so that she could not ever look past it and pretend everything was alright. Her ability to read people, to understand their wants and to see when something was off, was something she had crafted over many years of being a people pleaser. Now, it came naturally to her to study a person’s way of acting, talking, being, and then make them happy accordingly.

She realised when she grew older that the reason she did this was so people would look past her body and like her for who she actually was. She hated herself sometimes for still giving in to this need to please people all the time. She hated the things it had made her do in the past, how she had bent herself over backwards for people who did not, and would never, give a single shit about her. Though she felt at home in her body, she felt content in it, these tendencies to constantly make up for how she looked, to make light of it or make people feel comfortable around her, still hung around. With absolutely everything she was, Y/N hated that part of herself. She did not have to make up for anything. What did she have to apologise for? For existing? It did not make sense to her, but it had made sense to those that bullied her in school and those skinny people whose worst fear was becoming fat. Y/N’s worst fear, because of this, was not being liked. She realised how it all connected now.

Y/N realised how this need to please people came into play as she was sitting in a seminar room with Hayden, Chloe, Thian, Annalise, and three others from the International Society that Annalise often went to. Annalise was whispering in Dutch to the other Dutch girl she had met, while the rest of the room was relatively silent. Hayden had put on some music to lighten the mood, but it was evident that they were unsatisfied and sad. They were eight people; a single game of Uno was being played in a room that had been made so that at least 20 people would show up. Hayden had bought five decks of Uno, only for the one they brought with them to London to be the one the group ended up using. Their eyes drifted to the door every so often, silently begging for anyone else to show up to what looked to be a disastrous start to their Uno Society.

After two hours, they had to get out of the seminar room and go back home. As they were cleaning up, Y/N walked over to Hayden and helped them put their Uno decks and everything else they brought, back in their bag.

“More people will show up next time,” Y/N assured them.

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I genuinely think more people will show up at one point.”

Hayden smiled at Y/N, though it did not reach their eyes. “If we don’t have at least 15 people by the third meeting, this won’t be considered a society by Helmond standards and we won’t be allowed to meet on campus grounds.”

Y/N felt a small tinge of panic at that. This was not usually the society people would jump to be part of, it would take a little while for people to want to show up to an Uno Society on a Tuesday every fortnight.

“We can hope more people will come, but I doubt they will,” Hayden said.

“There aren’t a lot of people our age who play Uno, though,” Chloe said as Hayden and Y/N made their way to the door.

Y/N furrowed her brows at Chloe’s comment, but did not say a word.

“No, but I love Uno, and it’s a very social game. It’ll be fun if a lot of people show up, you know?” Hayden said, closing the door behind them before they walked down the corridor for the exit.

“Obviously, people just don’t know what they’re missing,” Thian chimed in, showing off his usually wide, happy beam. “It’s a great idea, Hay.”

“Really? It’s not bound to flop?” Hayden asked, scrunching up their nose as if they could not quite believe what Thian was saying.

“Of course not,” Annalise said.

“It’s a nice break from all the assignments,” Y/N said.

“By the way, speaking of assignments,” Chloe groaned. “Y/N, have you started on the Othello presentation yet?”

“You haven’t had the presentation yet?” Thian asked.

“No, different Introduction to English Studies seminar groups have presentations at different dates,” Chloe said. “Since Y/N and I are seminar group E, we have it last. Monday, 4th of December.”

“That’s still a while away, though,” Hayden pointed out. “You still got a month.”

“Yeah, but the presentation’s 40% of the final grade. I know I’ll ace the essay, but we only get to have a five-minute presentation on Othello.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to talk about how Othello’s a sexist play in just five minutes?”

“Easy,” Thian said. “You talk about how it’s a sexist play for just five minutes. You love to talk, it’ll be easy peasy.”

“I love to gossip, this is entirely different,” Chloe complained.

“Not really,” Y/N said, cocking her head a little to the side as the group rounded a corner. “You’re essentially just gonna gossip about Othello and what’s wrong with him and the way Shakespeare wrote the play.”

Chloe stared at Y/N for a few seconds, pursing her lips as she thought. A grin spread out across her lips and she nudged Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Annalise smiled.

“And by the time that happens, the Uno society will be history,” Hayden mumbled, making Thian pout his bottom lip and wrap an arm around Hayden’s shoulders. They all made their way back to Dinwiddy, Lancaster Complex, and Fleming Hall, three of the seven different campus accommodations. Dinwiddy was definitely of a bit better standard than Lancaster and Fleming, but Y/N was sure that, had she decided to live on campus, she would have gone for either Lancaster or Fleming like Annalise, Thian, and Hayden. She said goodbye to all of them and went on her way, walking back to Haggerston while talking to her parents on the phone. They always insisted she call them if she walked out alone at night, no matter how many people were around.

The shops she strolled by were starting to put up Christmas decorations and sales, making Y/N long for holiday. She just wanted a few days off uni. Though it was only the first year, the amount of work they were getting was ridiculous, and Y/N felt like she either spent most of her time in the library with her Literature gang, or at a café with Nathan, doing uni work. The fact that Christmas lights and decorations were already making an appearance, gave her some hope.

Getting to Orsman Road was no problem, and Y/N hung up with her parents when she reached the flat building. The mere thought of her bed made her knees buckle, she could not wait to be snuggled up in a blanket and watching the newest true crime series on Netflix. Once inside, she got her shoes and outwear off, then walked straight for the kitchen. She halted.

In a pair of worn-out black rugby shorts and a black hoodie, Harry stood pouring water into the kettle. The muscles in his legs flexed and unflexed as he moved, making it impossible to look away from his thighs. Y/N could not find the right words to express just how much she hated those tiny shorts. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Except he didn’t. He was very much just trying to wear something comfortable at home and Y/N was ogling him. He looked up as she entered.

“Hi,” Y/N said, walking over to the fridge where she kept her oat and banana milk.

“Hi,” Harry answered, watching her as she walked before putting the kettle on. “Been out shagging old men?”

Y/N blinked a few times before looking over at Harry as he put a teabag into his mug. “You’re very obsessed with my sex life.”

“I’m just nosy.”

Y/N sighed, knowing this was true from experience, and went back to getting her milk out of the fridge. “No, I was at a society meeting. The first one, actually.”

“Oh?” She could see in her peripheral vision that he turned around to watch her. “What kind of society?”

“Uno.”

Silence settled in the kitchen, and Y/N could hear Nathan and Mason in the living room next door playing something on the PlayStation. Y/N could feel Harry continue to just look at her as she poured herself a glass of the oat and banana milk. It was not until the milk was back in the fridge and Y/N met his eyes, that Harry spoke again.

“Uno?”

“Like the card game.”

“That’s… a niche interest.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re being judgemental.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. “No, no, no! I-“ He stopped himself, taking a grip of the kettle and quickly pouring himself a cuppa before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, something frantic shining within his own. “It’s just a very specific interest and society.”

She raised one of her shoulders. “Which is what makes it so amazing.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Harry said quickly, gesturing at her with his hand as if he completely agreed. Y/N wanted to laugh at how fast he was talking, as if he was desperate for her to understand that he was not being judgemental. “How was it?”

“Barely anyone showed up,” Y/N explained, sipping her milk.

Harry frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah, and at least 15 people total have to show up for it to be considered a society, or else Hayden, my course mate, can’t continue hosting on campus grounds.” Y/N sighed, looking at the ground. “Basically, if Hayden doesn’t find, like, twelve more people to join within the next two times, we won’t have a society any longer.”

Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but just then, the sound of quick footsteps could be heard, and then Nathan’s face appeared in the doorway. A grin spread out on his face as he met Y/N’s eyes.

“Thought I heard you come in!” he exclaimed. “We’re playing GTA, wanna come drive some people over?”

Y/N smiled at that, scrunching up her nose. “As appealing as that sounds, I’m gonna have to decline.”

Nathan pouted his lips and Harry stood watching quietly. “Why?” Nathan asked.

“Have an essay that I need to finish.”

Nathan sighed heavily. “Fine. Guess I’ll let you write that bloody essay.”

“Excuse you? ‘Let me’?” Y/N rolled her eyes and Nathan laughed. She gave him and then Harry a smile, making her way out of the kitchen.

“Have a good night,” she heard Harry say as she walked through the doorway. She gave him another smile before walking up the stairs and to her room. She quickly got out of her clothes and into loungewear, taking all her make-up off and finding a fluffy blanket she could sit under in bed as she started writing her Introduction to English Studies essay. She could hear the boys shouting and playing downstairs and drowned it out by putting her earbuds in and shutting them out.

She ended up reading academic articles and writing down an essay plan until she felt her eyelids get heavy a few hours later. Putting her laptop away and finishing her oat and banana milk, Y/N took her contacts off and started getting ready for bed. The door to the room beside hers opened and closed, she could hear Harry rummaging in his room, though the sound was not disturbing in any way. The only disturbing thing about it was the fact that it was Harry, but Y/N was learning to accept that. It had only taken her two months, but she was coming to terms with the fact that Harry Styles, an ex-good friend of hers and person she had sex with once, was living and sleeping in the room right next to hers.

Friday, 17 November 2017

The pizza at Domino’s was absolutely amazing, but working for them was anything but. This was only Y/N’s first shift, and she was already dreading her next. Not only would she be bringing home with her the memories of a horrible first day on her new job, but she would also be bringing the smell of greasy pizza. She would have to do a deep clean in the shower before going to bed, she was not rubbing that smell onto her bedsheets.

With some experience working for Pizza Express before, Y/N was already well-versed working for a pizza chain. Pizza Express had been her job from 15 until she moved off to uni at 19, which she knew was what must have given her this new job at Domino’s rather quickly. As much experience as she had working at Pizza Express serving people, she had never been the one to drive around delivering pizzas. After all, she had not gotten her license until sometime last year, so it had never been a possibility. However, in the job description for this position at Domino’s, it had clearly stated that Y/N would be working mostly as a delivery driver, something that sounded chill at first, until she realised she would have to go deliver pizza to people that would be anything but friendly. Or maybe a little too friendly. Because of her inexperience in this particular field of the job, she had another employer join her for her first shift.

Isla was very quiet, maybe even a little too quiet for Y/N’s taste. She would mostly just stare out the window, sometimes chime in to help Y/N pick a quicker route, or help her make out how much she owed the customer if they paid a few quid too many. Other than that, Isla did not really offer much conversation wise. Even when the two of them picked up the pizzas for their first drive, the first time they spent together, Isla did not say much.

“Have you worked here long?” Y/N asked, giving Isla a smile so she would know that she was actually asking out of curiosity and not because she felt obliged to.

“A year.”

Y/N nodded as she sat down behind the wheel, Isla sitting down in the passenger seat. “I worked in Pizza Express at home in Nottingham before I moved here. Dunno why, I’ve always preferred Domino’s to Pizza Express. Though, Zizzi is top tier.”

Isla only nodded slightly.

Y/N had waited for a response, but realising she would not be getting one, she started the Domino’s car and started driving in the direction out of the parking spot on the street beside the tiny restaurant on Homefield Street. Y/N almost drove right into the Domino’s mopeds that all stood on the spot in front of the car. She just knew that at one point, she would be driving one of those. She followed the instructions on the GPS, up Hoxton Street, in the direction of Lavender Grove. Without any radio on, the car was very quiet. Too quiet. It made Y/N break out in sweat.

“Do you drive around with deliveries often?” Y/N asked.

Isla shook her head. “No.”

Y/N whipped her head back in the direction of the street in front of her, trying to produce spit so she could nervously swallow. Her mouth was too dry. “You work by the till then?”

“Mostly.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s the best place to work, isn’t it? Don’t have to drive around, don’t have to actually make the food.”

Isla gave a feeble smile. “I suppose.”

God, all Y/N wanted as an okay day. All she wanted was for one single day to be alright.

Isla would twine a single piece of her brown, bushy hair around her finger sometimes, then put it behind her ear, only to go back to fidgeting with it. Y/N was unsure if she was nervous to be in a car with someone she did not know, or if she was just deep in thought. Y/N wanted to get to know Isla, to make a friend at her new workplace, but she did not want to harass Isla if it meant it would make her uncomfortable. It was clear that she did not like being this close to Y/N considering the two had never met before and would now be spending a good six hours together. Therefore, to not push away what she hoped to be a future mate, she only made occasional conversation and then left Isla mostly to herself. She could sense that was what her companion wanted most of all.

In a particularly dodgy part of Lea Bridge, Y/N was delivering three pizzas to what she knew even before knocking on the door, would be to a rather creepy encounter. The man that opened the door was bald with glassy eyes and a blue tee shirt tucked into his grey joggers. At the sight of Y/N, he grinned.

“Three pepperonis?” she asked, wondering if this man just really loved pepperoni pizzas or if he was hosting a party.

“That’s me, yeah.”

“Alright.” Y/N handed him the three pizzas just as another man emerged from behind him, and it was then that Y/N noticed the incredible stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Some 80s rock was playing from a stereo and there did not seem to be much light on inside the flat. Y/N suddenly felt very sick.

“You pre-paid,” she stated, more to reassure herself that she could just leave than to make them aware that she knew they did not have to go get any money to pay her. “Have a nice night.”

“Wouldn’t be nice if you didn’t stick around,” the bald one holding the pizzas said.

“Yeah, why don’t you come inside? Have a bite with us?” the other one offered. “You look like a hard-working girl, why don’t you take a few minutes off with us?”

Y/N could feel her heart begin to beat faster, her hands begin to sweat. “No, I have to get back to work,” she said, giving them a smile before walking off.

“Wait, we didn’t give you a tip!”

“Come back, love!”

Y/N tuned them out as she walked down the stairs, keeping an eye over her shoulder and her ears on alert as she made her way back to the car. Isla was sat on her phone when Y/N sat back down in the driver’s seat, putting her seatbelt on a little too fast and gripping the steering wheel harder than she had previously. She just wanted to get away from those men, she just wanted that shift to be over.

“You okay?” Isla asked. The first question she ever asked Y/N. First time she ever took initiative to start a conversation. Y/N really appreciated it in that moment.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, sighing heavily. “Just hate men.”

Isla must have understood what Y/N was talking about because she nodded, looking straight ahead at the road in front of them. “I’m sorry you met the worst type of customers on your first night.”

“Had to meet them at one point, though,” Y/N said.

“You shouldn’t have to meet them at all.”

Y/N felt that statement reverberate through the car, lay in the air between them for quite some time after it was said. She could not stop thinking about it as she drove to the next destination, feeling disgusted and angry. Had she stayed there a second longer, she would have had to resist the urge to knee them both in the space between their legs. This was just one of the stupid encounters that night, though the rest were more so on the scale of weird than disgusting. Like a man that was clearly high thanking Y/N for his frozen milk when he had ordered three Ben and Jerry’s, or a woman with her hair a mess, make-up completely destroyed, and just her dress robes on, snatching the pizza out of Y/N’s hand before hurrying back inside. It was a strange few hours, and as she drove the car back to Domino’s Homefield Street, Y/N felt absolutely drained of energy.

Walking home after her shift at 3:30am was next to torture, she just wanted to be in bed, cosy underneath the covers, and forget about the fact that she was working tomorrow night as well. Though the Hoxton Street was washed in the yellow lights from the streetlamps and the occasional car driving by, it was anything but empty. Drunk people were walking home from pubs, while others, like her, walked home from another nightshift, and some were just out for a night stroll. She walked without listening to music, not feeling comfortable with not being completely aware of her surroundings when it was dark out. Besides, she was so tired as well, listening to music would probably put her to sleep.

Orsman Road was completely deserted, only a few people walking home from The Stag’s Head passed her smelling of beer and cigarettes. This street was darker, smaller, and less busy than Hoxton Street, so Y/N opted to walk in the middle of the road instead of in the shadows. She felt less vulnerable that way. As she reached the flat building, she got her keys out of her purse and went to unlock the door.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

She jumped, keys falling onto the asphalt. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Harry standing there with the smuggest, most infuriating look on his face. God, how she wanted to slap him until his teeth fell out. While she contemplated how to physically hurt him, Harry bent down, picked up Y/N’s keys, and put them back in her hand.

“Don’t lose those,” he said. “50 quid to get a new pair.”

Y/N only narrowed her eyes, unlocking the door for them both and striding on to the next floor. After opening the door to the flat, she got her shoes off, and walked straight for the kitchen. She needed strawberries, especially after the shift she just had. The door closed behind Harry and she heard him lock it before taking his shoes and jacket off, too. As she turned around after closing the fridge door, Harry stood by the kettle, filling it up with water.

“Didn’t know you worked at Domino’s,” he said, looking over at her briefly, nodding at her black Domino’s fleece jacket before turning his attention back to the kettle.

“Just started.”

“How’re you finding it?” he asked.

Y/N sighed, leaning her hip against the counter. “Considering this was my first shift and I have to show up again to work another nightshift tomorrow…” She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “I’d say shite.”

Harry laughed, stopping the tap. “Tea?”

“No, I bought myself some banana and oat milk from M&S earlier, I’ll just have that. Thank you, though.” She gestured at what she had placed on the counter while he was busy with the kettle.

Harry watched her as she got herself a glass for the milk. “Can’t for the life of me remember you being a Tory.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, you don’t remember me hating the poor?” she said, putting on a posh accent, Harry could not hold back his own laughter. “Quite a big part of my personality, don’t know how you missed it. Now-“ She put the milk back in the fridge. “-If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go spend five weeks at my £1.000.000 18 century holiday house in Surrey.”

Harry’s laughter echoed through the kitchen as he put the kettle on, shaking his head at her. “No, but how’d you like your first shift? Anything like Pizza Express?”

Why the fuck did he remember that? Why did he have to remember everything? Bloody hell…

“Not for me. There were just a lot of creepy men, and some very dodgy neighbourhoods. I’m sure that’s not all there is to the job as a delivery driver, I’m sure I was just unlucky my first time, but I can’t really afford to quit unless I have a backup.”

Harry frowned at that. “If you don’t like it and you feel unsafe, you don’t have to continue doing it.”

She nodded her head. “No, I know, but it’s still the only job I could find and that I could get at the moment. I’ll apply to others later.”

Harry’s frown deepened, crossing his arms over his black, tee-shirt covered chest. No tattoos on display. She wondered why he only had tattoos on his chest and torso.

“Yeah, alright…” he said, voice a little darker than before. “But if you feel unsafe-“

“-Harry, I practiced capoeira when I was younger, remember?”

At that, as if he was slowly unveiling a memory he had not thought about in a little too long, Harry smiled. A small, fond smile that Y/N remembered from a previous life; a life with far less troubles, far less complications than this one.

“Of course I do.”

Not “yes”. Not just “I do”. “Of course”. He had said “of course”, as if remembering was a privilege. As if not remembering would be the strangest thing in the world. Y/N hated that this man did not forget a single thing. Never had, never would.

“Well,” she said, trying to act normal after that. “Well, I can hold my own.”

“Good to know,” Harry smiled, getting a teabag from his cupboard. As he turned his body and face away from her, she saw something glisten in the lights of the kitchen. Two earrings. Two gold earrings right next to one another. In his ear. Y/N would never admit to it out loud, the sight made her mouth salivate. “But I still think you should quit if you don’t like your work.”

Y/N opened the strawberry container and took one out, taking a bite. She needed to look away from Harry, away from his two earrings, and away from him because he was making some points. She knew where Harry was coming from, she really did, but she could not go on living in London, using money every single day, and not have an income. Until something better came along, this would be her job. “How’s the pub?”

“Alright,” Harry said, pouring hot water into his mug. “I’m having my last shift there December 15th.”

Y/N blinked. “You’re quitting?”

“Yeah, I’m starting a new job in January.”

She raised her eyebrows, meeting his gaze again. “Okay, good for you. What one?”

“Tattoo artist.”

He had to be fucking kidding at this point. Y/N had to do everything to keep her eye from twitching.

“Just got my tattoo license, so I’m ready to go come January.”

Y/N did not want to admit it. She could not admit it. She physically could not. But… everything about Harry… everything he did, everything he said… It all hit different. And it did not help that Y/N, who loved tattoos, getting them, having them on her body, and seeing them on someone else’s, was now made aware that Harry could legally give people tattoos. He was going to become a tattoo artist in January. Y/N wanted to eat chalk.

Harry just looked at her, studying her face. “You okay?”

She swallowed the strawberry bite she had just taken. “Fantastic.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Did you draw your own tattoos then?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was witness to Harry’s smug smile. He raised his cuppa, cocking his head a little to the side as he said, “You’ve seen my tattoos?”

Y/N wanted to die.

“You’ve been sneaking into my room to watch me sleep, that it?” Harry asked. “You’ve probably seen the tattoo I have by my crotch then, too-“

“-Oi!” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Piss off. I saw them when you were wearing that low-neck top at Footprint.”

Harry took a sip of his tea. “If you say so.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and Harry laughed.

“It’s jokes, Y/N.”

“Good. I’m genuinely scared you think I fancy you.”

Harry smiled. “You mean you don’t? Really?”

She took a hold of her strawberries and milk. “Goodnight, wanker.”

“I’m a dreamboat, what about this-“ Harry gestured at himself, flexing his arm muscles that weren’t really there. “-Doesn’t give you the fanny flutters?”

“You’re disgusting.”

Harry laughed.

“I was just interested to know about your job as a tattoo artist ‘cause I love tattoos,” Y/N explained.

Harry’s eyes travelled down to Y/N’s hand where the ‘M’ was tattooed, it lingered there for a moment too long. For some unknown reason, a tingle started up in Y/N’s thumb, making its way up her arm and to her breasts, then her stomach. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to her ribs where he must have seen her ‘saudade’ tattoo. Though it was not visible right then, it seemed as if Harry was seeing it all the same, sensing it somehow. At last, his eyes met hers, and Y/N felt something in her throat stop working. The tingle that had laid in her stomach just seconds earlier exploded, slithering all throughout her body and making her hyper aware of how knowledgeable Harry was of the tattoos on her body; of her. He must have paid more attention to her than she thought he had. Something about that made it hard to breathe. Bloody hell, she hated how fucking fit he was. She hated how she reacted to his glance, to his attention.

“I can tell,” he said, voice a tinge darker than before.

She was surely about to explode. Blinking a few times, she held her strawberries up, nodding her head to Harry in a silent goodbye, then made her way towards the door.

“Oh, Y/N,” Harry said, making her look over her shoulder at him. “Do you want some Ginger Nuts? I’m having some with my tea-“

“-No thanks. Goodnight.” Y/N walked straight out of the door and to her room, needing to stick her head out her window to cool down in the Regent’s Canal breeze before sitting down in her bed again. How could he be considerate, respectful, smart, pretty, and sexy at the same time? Some otherworldly powers had truly been at work these last few years to make Harry Styles into everything Y/N was attracted to.

She did not even want him as a boyfriend, she never had, there had never been any romantic feelings between them before and there never would be, but he was just so… so… frustrating. In every single sense of the word. He was just… very attractive. Very pleasing to look at. Everything that got to Y/N. And Y/N wanted to scream at Harry for making it so hard to ignore him, and at herself for falling for it.

Wednesday, 29 November 2017

Y/N was originally going to travel home to Nottingham that Friday so she could stay home that weekend. She had not been home since September, and though they only had two weeks of uni left before Christmas break, she wanted to go home this weekend. She missed her parents terribly and wanted to see them so badly, she could simply not wait until Christmas. So, because it was the last Wednesday of the month, Y/N travelled back up to Nottingham.

Every last Wednesday of every month, Davi would invite all of his Brazilian family who had settled in Nottingham after he had, as well as Lottie’s parents, over for feijoada. Brazil has many region-specific dishes, yet the one that best translates into a nationwide dish is the beloved feijoada. The name stems from the word feijão, which is Portuguese for bean, and also the key ingredient of feijoada, which is essentially a bean stew mixed with beef and pork. Though, depending on what region of Brazil you are in, you will find different ingredients added to the feijoada.

In Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais, feijoada is almost always cooked with black beans, while in Bahia, red or brown beans are preferred. In Bahia and Sergipe, they also usually add extra vegetables to the feijoada such as plantain, kale, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and pumpkin. However, in the rest of Brazil, feijoada is simply beans and meat with no additional vegetables. It is served with white rice, shredded kale with bits of fried bacon, crispy pork crackling, and slices of oranges that are meant to aid the digestion of the heavy meal. Which is what Y/N had grown up eating.

Typically, it is served at noon on Wednesdays and Saturdays, as this hearty meal is a thick mixture that will have you full in no time. The only activity Y/N would recommend after it, is bed and a good book. Maybe even a little nap. Their big family often used to eat it during the weekend as it meant more time spent with the family, more time spent chatting and being social, but Davi who worked in a bakery, had often worked Saturday and Sunday afternoons, meaning that it would fit best for the family to keep the tradition of hosting the meal on Wednesdays at Davi and Lottie’s house. Which was why Y/N was on her way home that Wednesday at the end of November.

Closing Vidas Secas by Graciliano Ramos that she had just been reading, Y/N got up from her seat to get off the train. Graciliano Ramos was Y/N’s favourite writer of all time. Though she loved English Literature and especially loved studying it, she always found his works to be better than most. He was the only modernist writer she could stand. São Bernardo was her favourite of his novels. A story about a man who, having been born poor, gets rich using any ruthless means he can and ends up utterly alone. It had stuck with Y/N her entire life. The main character’s ability to love others, his selfishness, and arrogance, make up one of the most complex characters of world literature, in Y/N’s opinion.

In the last chapter of São Bernardo when Paulo Honório reflects on his life alone at night, Y/N found some of the best few pages she had ever read. The closing words ‘I ruined my life stupidly’ express the agony of a man whom Y/N learned to despise throughout the book, but who, thanks to the mastery of the author, leads us with him through his tragic life choices towards self-destruction. Y/N got goosebumps just thinking about it.

Stepping off the train with her small bag and book under her arm, Y/N walked straight for the train station exit. She recognised her mother’s brown hair in a bun at the top of her head, a pair of colourful flare trousers on along with a white buffer jacket. Lottie jumped up and down at the sight of Y/N and ran for her daughter, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace.

“My baby,” she said, kissing Y/N’s cheeks and forehead. “Oh, my Y/N.”

Y/N hugged her mother back, burying her face in her mother’s neck. She did not care that she could hear Vidas Secas fall into the tiled floor or that her bag would get dirty where it lay, all she cared about was her mother’s embrace and the smell of home around her. She was fluent in two languages, yet Y/N could not find a word that could quite capture how happy she was to be home just now.

“Okay, my dove,” Lotte said, taking Y/N’s bag off the floor. Y/N bent down and picked up her book, bringing it to her chest. “Let’s go home.”

The two of them walked out to the car park, and Lottie quickly started driving them in the direction of Y/N’s childhood home. The familiar ride and the familiar city outside the car windows made her relax, sinking far into the seat until she felt enveloped in safeness and contentment. It didn’t take them long to reach the semi-detached brick house, all their family members’ cars parked out front and visible in the windows overlooking the street. Y/N took her own bag this time, and her mother led the way up the stairs to the house so she could open the door for her.

There was no time for Y/N to go upstairs with her bag and book, because she was bombarded with hugs and kisses the second she stepped inside. Her grandfather, avô, her grandmother, avó, her papai’s two sisters and her aunties, tia Gilma and tia Lara, their husbands and her uncles, tio Jaren and uncle Finnley – who was British and had met Lara after she moved here -, and her seven cousins, or primos. They all came rushing to her, with her British grandmother and grandfather grinning and waiting for her to be done hugging and kissing everyone. Being with them and smelling feijoada everywhere, made Y/N almost tear up. Blimey, ever since moving away to University, she had become so incredibly sappy.

“Amorinzho!” came like a scream from the kitchen. Davi came out into the foyer with his apron still on and the biggest grin on his face. He threw his arms around Y/N. “Eu tenho saudade de você.”

She had missed him, too. So much. She felt safer, more at ease, almost more herself now that she was reunited with her parents close.

So, she told him that as she whispered, “Eu também senti sua falta,” back. Her papai hugged her a little tighter at that, grinning at her with tears in his eyes as he squeezed her shoulders.

“Y/N!” avó shouted from where she now sat in the living room, her grey hair in a long braid down her back and a big knitted cardigan wrapped tightly around her small frame. “Venha comer!”

“I’ll come eat in a second,” Y/N said. “I just need to put my bag in my room.”

“I’ll do that for you, my sausage,” Y/N’s grandfather said, stroking her cheek before he bent down and brought the bag with him up the stairs to her room. Since her mother had been an only child, her parents, Y/N’s grandparents, had always been very caring and constantly present as Y/N and Marcela had been their only grandchildren. Not that her avós had not been present, because they really had, her entire family had, but her grandparents’ life had no meaning if it were not for Lottie, Y/N and Marcela.

Y/N walked past all her family and to the kitchen where her papai stood making her a plate of feijoada. He handed it to her and she smiled at him before helping herself to some rice. Just then, Lottie walked into the kitchen as well, hugging Y/N from behind before she walked over to make her daughter something to drink. Silence stretched out in the kitchen as conversation started back up again in the living room, everyone talking about everything and nothing, in English and Portuguese. But, something that was unusual for her parents, they did not say a single thing. Though this might not be unusual for some, it was extremely unusual for someone who came from a generally very talkative family.

“Charlotte,” Davi said, looking over at Lottie. “We should…”

“Not yet.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder at her parents. “What?”

“We should tell her.”

“She just got home, Davi,” Lottie reasoned. “We can tell her later. Let her enjoy her feijoada.”

“No, what’s going on?” Y/N asked again, turning her body to face them now.

“No, amorinzha,” Davi said, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “Your mother is right; we can talk about it later. It’s not appropriate to do it now.”

“What’s going on? What’re you talking about?” Y/N looked at her papai, then at her mum, both of them sharing a look with one another that Y/N did not understand. Over the years, she had become a master at deciphering what her parents were discussing when they shared looks, though she never managed to quite understand the proper subject of discussion, she could detect the mood. She understood this was more of a serious matter.

“Tell me,” Y/N said, feeling her heart begin to beat a little harder, a little faster, the more time went by without any of them saying anything.

“Fine,” Lottie sighed. “Put your plate down first.”

Y/N did so reluctantly, not taking her eyes off of her parents. If it was serious enough for her mother to want her to put her food down so she would not drop her plate, then Y/N was on the fence if she even wanted to know what was going on or if she wanted to live in blissful ignorance of it.

“Your pai and I have decided to sell the cabin.”

Y/N’s heart stopped beating. Her body felt numb, the chatter in the living room deceased to exist as she just looked at her mother, and then at her papai. Her mum, and then pai. Suddenly, as if slapped with a brick, Y/N’s brain roared to life and her body came as hot as coal. She looked at her mother who had been the one to speak, her mouth falling open and shutting again as she continued to process what she had just been told.

“You’re… you’re going to sell the cabin?” Y/N asked them, just to be completely sure that what she heard was correct.

“Yes,” Davi answered.

“You’re selling the cabin?” She could not believe it.

“Y/N-“

“-You’re selling our Newport cabin? The one in Wales?” she asked again, her voice rising now. They did not have any other cabins, but Y/N just had to know she was not mistaken. They couldn’t… They couldn’t just…

“Y/N, we never go there anymore,” Lottie reasoned. “We want to spend the money we use on the cabin on something else, we don’t know what yet.”

“So, you’re just going to sell the cabin where your daughter was murdered?” Y/N asked, voice filled with so much rage she barely recognised herself when she spoke. “Where Marcela was most likely stabbed? You’re selling that cabin?”

“We’re never there because she was… she was killed…” Davi cleared his throat. “Spending time inside that cabin when we know what happened inside it, does not feel right.”

“No, selling it isn’t right,” Y/N said. “What if there’s more evidence inside? What if there’s somewhere they haven’t looked?”

“Baby, they have cleaned out the cabin and there’s nowhere they haven’t looked. There’s nothing more they can investigate,” Lottie explained. “We don’t want to own that cabin anymore.”

“Kit murdered Marcela in there,” Y/N said. “Her murderous ex-boyfriend is running around somewhere because no one investigated that cabin thoroughly enough.”

“Selling it doesn’t mean they are going to stop investigating Marcela’s case, amorzinho,” Davi pointed out.

“We don’t… We still don’t know if Kit did it,” Lottie mumbled. “It was most likely him, but there could have been someone else who killed Marcela, Y/N.”

“Marcela’s body hasn’t been found, there’s no trace of Kit’s blood or remains on that property. That murderer is on the loose, something inside that cabin can tell us he killed her, I am sure of it.”

“Y/N, Kit hasn’t been seen since the murder either. Maybe he was killed, too,” Lottie said.

“Mum, Kit was a rubbish person, why are you sticking up for him?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face.

“We decided, Y/N,” Davi mumbled, rubbing his daughter’s back. “It’s happening.”

That was all Y/N needed to hear. She took her plate in one hand and the glass with water her mother had made her in another, and she walked straight past everyone in the living room and up to her room. She felt like a child stomping past everyone like that, but she just needed to be with her thoughts. There was absolutely no way they were selling that cabin. Not that cabin. Y/N was sure there was evidence in there somewhere, the police and the investigators had just not looked thoroughly enough. That was all. And if they had done a shite job, well… that just meant Y/N had to do it for them. She had to go to that cabin and look for herself once and for all. After all, who else would? It did not seem like anyone cared anymore.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 21th March, 9PM GMT!

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keijislove · 3 years

Text

Entranced: Ron Weasley X Reader

"I played like a sack of dragon dung," said Ron in a hollow voice when

the changing room door had swung shut behind Ginny.

You had just had Quidditch practice and you, being one of the best Chasers, tried your best not to tell Ron that you’d given him the easiest serves of all

"No, you didn't," you said firmly.

"You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves." Harry added.

You both kept up a relentless flow of encouragement all the way back to the castle, and by the time you reached the second floor, Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. When Harry pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, however, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.

You covered your mouth to supress a giggle as Harry’s features set into a scowl of the deepest loathing.

Ron, looking fairly affronted as well, spoke first.

"Oi!"

Dean and Ginny broke apart and looked around. "What?" said Ginny.

"I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!"

"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in!" said Ginny.

Dean was looking embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return.

"Er . . . c'mon, Ginny," said Dean, "let's go back to the common room. ..."

"You go!" said Ginny. "I want a word with my dear brother!" Dean left, looking as though he was not sorry to depart the scene.

"Right," said Ginny, tossing her long red hair out of her face and glaring at Ron, "let's get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Ron --"

"Yeah, it is!" said Ron, just as angrily. "D' you think I want people saying my sister's a --"

"A what?" shouted Ginny, drawing her wand. "A what, exactly?"

"He doesn't mean anything, Ginny --" you coaxingly began.

"Oh yes he does!" she said, flaring up at you. "Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Auntie Muriel --"

"Shut your mouth!" bellowed Ron, bypassing red and turning maroon.

"No, I will not!" yelled Ginny, beside herself. "I've seen you with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it's pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"

Ron had pulled out his wand too; Harry stepped swiftly between them.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public --!"

Ginny screamed with derisive laughter, trying to push Harry out of the way. “Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?" You –"

A streak of orange light flew under Harrys left arm and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed Ron up against the wall.

"Don't be stupid --"

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "Hermione snogged Viktor Krum! Heck, even Y/N’s nogged Cedric probably once, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"

“Hey, you’ve got no business talking to him like that!” you were very red in the face indeed.

“Oh, save it.” Ginny snarled, “You’re just embarrassed I told Ron you snogged Cedric.”

“I didn’t snog him-”

“I’m sorry Y/N, as much of a great friend and elder-sister vibes you have given me... he needs to know.”

And with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.

"C'mon," said Harry, as the sound of Filch's shuffling feet reached their ears.

They hurried up the stairs and along a seventh-floor corridor. "Oi, out of the way!" Ron barked at a small girl who jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toadspawn.

You hardly noticed the sound of shattering glass; you felt disoriented, dizzy; being struck by a lightning bolt must be something like this. You saw Ron ripping open the tapestry curtain and drawing his wand on Harry, shouting things like "betrayal of trust" . . . "supposed to be my friend" . . .

"Did you really snog Diggory?" Ron asked abruptly, as you approached the Fat Lady.

You turned around, “Excuse me?”

"Dilligrout," Ron said darkly to the Fat Lady, and they climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.

“I hardly think that’s any of your business, Ronald.” You coldly said.

“Oh, please.” The redhead sneered before trudging upstairs to his dormitory.

--------

Ron had been awful to you since the past few days. He’d try his best to ignore you and even slip in a few snarky comments about you, something which was very un-Ron-like.

You had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behaviour that you had not come down to breakfast with him and Harry since, instead choosing to go with Hermione.

She had initially questioned you, but a few snaps and choked sobs later, she left it and just consolingly rubbed your back as you silently thanked her every night.

She paused on her way up the table.

"How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head.

"I dont know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket.

“Thanks.” You gave a weary smile. You felt really bad ignoring Harry, but your pride had gotten on the way tremendously.

“She doesn’t need it.” Ron whispered loud enough for you to hear, “I ‘spose Diggory had already said that a hundred times.”

You were about to open your mouth, but someone interrupted.

"Nearly time.” said Harry blithely.

"Fishy, isn't it?" he said in an undertone to Ron. "Malfoy not playing?"

------------

You, Ron and Harry were the last two in the changing room. You were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined. "I want a word with you, Harry." She took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, its illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry.

"You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" said Hermione shrilly. "You spiked Ron’s juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"

"No, I didn't," said Harry, turning back to face them both.

"Yes, you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!"

"I didn't put it in!" said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He looked at Ron. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."

He pocketed the potion again.

"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Ron said, astounded. "But the weather's good. . . and Vaisey couldn't play. ... I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?"

Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice. "You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione! Y/N’s bad enough as it is, I don’t need you making my life miserable as well."

You inhaled sharply as Harry guiltily sent you what looked like a consoling stare. You shook your head, trying your best not to scream at Ron.

"I never said you couldn't -- Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!" said Hermione.

But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.

"Er," said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire like this, "shall. . . shall we go up to the party, then?"

"You go!" said Hermione, blinking back tears. "I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done. . . ."

And she stormed out of the changing room too.

Which left you and Harry.

You refused to look at him and when he cleared his throat, you wanted to run, screaming.

“Y/N.” he began, “Is there... something I don’t know about?”

“Like what?”

“Like what the hell is going on between you and Ron?”

Harry instantly regretted saying this, as your lip trembled and you glared at him straight in the eye before coldly snapping, “If you haven’t noticed... Ronald has a problem of not knowing the fine line between being upset with someone and being nasty to them. I’m surprised how his broomstick can fly with that fat head on it.

When you arrived, the Gryffindor celebration party, which as in full swing. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted your appearance, and he was soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating you. What with trying to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the large group of girls that encircled Harry, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids, it was some time before you could escape.

As you moved, you walked straight into Ginny, Arnold the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.

"Looking for Ron?" she asked, smirking. "He's over there, the filthy hypocrite.”

You looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.

"It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?" said Ginny dispassionately. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Y/N."

She patted you on the arm; you felt as if you had forgotten how to breathe, trying not to choke on your spit too severely from the amount of effort it took you not to cry.

You quickly turned away from Ron, who did not look like he would be surfacing soon, and darted out the door out of sight.

---------

"Y/N?" Harry’s voice called five minutes later.

He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. You were sitting on the teacher's desk, next to Hermione, who had a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah . . . they're -- er -- really good. ..." said Harry. “Listen, Y/N...”

He had no idea what to say to you. He was just wondering whether there was any chance that you had not noticed Ron, that you had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when you said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, "Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations."

"Er . . . does he?" said Harry.

"Don't pretend you didn't see him," said Hermione. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was -- ?"

The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.

"Oh," he said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry, you and Hermione.

"Oops!" said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door swung shut behind her. There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron in disapproval and anger, who refused to look at her and the H/C girl, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, "Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!"

Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.

"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone."

She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.

"Oppugno!" came a shriek from the doorway.

You spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach, and you were not sorry for him in the least.

"Gerremoffme!" he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and pulled you along, before you disappeared through it, choking on a sob.

----------

'Want one?” said Ron thickly, holding out a box of Chocolate Cauldrons.

It was his birthday, and no matter how angry you were, you dropped by to say an awkward hello.

“Suit yourself,” said Ron, stuffing a second Cauldron into his mouth as he slid out of bed to get dressed. 'Come on Harry. If you don't hurry up, you'll have to Apparate on an empty-stomach ... might make it easier, I suppose ..."

Ron looked thoughtfully at the box of Chocolate Cauldrons, then shrugged and helped himself to a third.

Harry tapped the map with his wand, muttered, 'Mischief managed,”

'Ready?' he said to Ron.

“Excuse me.” You quietly said to make them aware of your presence, “We’re going to be late.”

You and Harry were halfway to the dormitory door when you realised that Ron had not moved, but was leaning on his bedpost, staring out of the rain-washed window with a strangely un-focused look on his face.

'Ron? Breakfast.'

“I'm not hungry,”

You stared ai him. “I thought you just said -?”

“-Well, all right, I'll come down with you,' sighed Ron, 'but I don't want to eat.'

You scrutinised him suspiciously.

'You've just eaten half a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, haven't you?'

'It's not that,' Ron sighed again. 'You ... you wouldn't understand.'

'Fair enough,' said Harry, albeit puzzled, as he turned to open the door.

'Harry!' said Ron suddenly.

'What?'

'Harry, I can't stand it!'

'You can't stand what?' asked Harry; you were now starting to feel definitely alarmed. Ron was rather pale and looked as though he was about to be sick.

'I can't stop thinking about her!' said Ron hoarsely.

You gaped at him. You had not expected this and were not sure you wanted to hear it. ‘Friends’ you might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender 'Lav- Lav', you would have to put your foot down.

'Why does that stop you having breakfast?' Harry asked, trying to inject a note of common sense into the proceedings.

'I don't think she knows I exist,' said Ron with a desperate gesture.

'She definitely knows you exist,' you said angrily. 'She keeps snogging you, doesn't she?'

Ron blinked.

'Who are you talking about?'

Who are you talking about?' said you and Harry together, with an increasing sense that all

reason had dropped out of the conversation.

'Romilda Vane,' said Ron softly, and his whole face seemed to illuminate as he said it, as though hit by a ray of purest sunlight. You stared at each other for almost a whole minute, before Harry said, 'This is a joke, right? You're joking.'

Think ... Harry, I think I love her,' said Ron in a strangled voice.

'OK,' you said, walking up to Ron to get a better look at the glazed eyes and the pallid complexion, 'OK ... say that again with a straight face.'

'I love her,' repeated Ron breathlessly. 'Have you seen her hair, it's all black and shiny and silky ... and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her -'

'This is really funny and everything,' said Harry impatiently, 'but joke's over, all right? Drop it.'

He turned to leave; he had got two steps towards the door when a crashing blow hit him on the right ear. Staggering, he looked round. Ron's fist was drawn right back, his face was contorted with rage; he was about to strike again.

Harry reacted instinctively; his wand was out of his pocket and the incantation sprang to mind without conscious thought: Levicorpus!

Ron yelled as his heel was wrenched upwards once more; he dangled helplessly, upside-down, his robes hanging off him.

'What was that for?' you bellowed.

'He insulted her! He said it was a joke!' shouted Ron, who was slowly turning purple in the face as all the blood rushed to his head.

'This is insane!' said Harry. 'What's got into -?'

And then he saw the box lying open on Ron's bed and the truth hit him with the force of a stampeding troll.

'Where did you get those Chocolate Cauldrons?'

'They were a birthday present!' shouted Ron, revolving slowly in midair as he struggled to get free. ‘I offered you one, didn't I?'

'You just picked them up off the floor, didn't you?'

'They'd fallen off my bed, all right? Let me go!'

'They didn't fall off your bed, you prat, don't you understand? They were mine, I chucked them out of my trunk when I was looking for the map. They're the Chocolate Cauldrons Romilda gave me before Christmas and they're all spiked with love potion!'

You gave an outraged cry at this information.

But only one word of this seemed to have registered with Ron.

‘Romilda?' he repeated. 'Did you say Romilda? Harry - do you know her? Can you introduce me?'

Harry stared at the dangling Ron, whose face now looked tremendously hopeful, and fought a strong desire to laugh... Y/N thought that he would deserve another punching if he permitted Ron to declare undying love for Romilda Vane.

'Yeah, I'll introduce you,' said Harry, thinking fast. 'I'm going to let you down now, OK?'

He sent Ron crashing back to the floor (his ear did hurt quite a lot), but

Ron simply bounded to his feet again, grinning.

'She'll be in Slughorn's office.’ said Harry confidently, leading the way to the door.

'Why will she be in there?' asked Ron anxiously, hurrying to keep up.

'Oh, she has extra Potions lessons with him,' you said, inventing wildly.

'Maybe I could ask if I can have them with her?' said Ron eagerly.

'Great idea,' said Harry. Lavender was waiting beside the portrait hole, a complication both you and Harry had not foreseen.

'You're late, Won-Won!' she pouted. 'I've got you a birth-day-'

'Leave me alone,' said Ron impatiently, 'Harry's going to introduce me to Romilda Vane.'

And without another word to her, he pushed his way out of the portrait hole. Harry tried to make an apologetic face to Lavender, but it might have turned out simply amused, because she looked more offended than ever as the Fat Lady swung shut behind them.

You had been slightly worried that Slughorn might be at breakfast, but he answered his office door at the first knock, wearing a green velvet dressing-gown and matching nightcap and looking rather bleary-eyed.

'Harry, Y/N.' he mumbled. 'This is very early for a call ... I generally sleep late on a Saturday ..."

'Professor, I'm really sorry to disturb you,' said Harry as quietly as possible, while Ron stood on tiptoe, attempting to see past Slughorn into his room, 'but my friend Ron's swallowed a love potion by mistake. You couldn't make him an antidote, could you? I'd take him to Madam Pomfrey, but we're not supposed to have anything from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and, you know ... awkward questions ...'

‘I’d have thought you could have whipped him up a remedy, Harry, an expert potioneer like you?' asked Slughorn.

'Er,' said Harry, somewhat distracted by the fact that Ron was now elbowing him in the ribs in an attempt to force his way into the room, and Y/N held him firmly back, 'well, I've never mixed an antidote for a love potion, sir, and by the time I get it right Ron might've done something serious -'

Helpfully, Ron chose this moment to moan, 'I can't see her. Harry - is he hiding her?'

'Was this potion within date?' asked Slughorn, now eyeing Ron with professional interest. 'They can strengthen, you know, the longer they're kept.'

That would explain a lot,' panted Harry, now positively wrestling with Ron to keep him from knocking Slughorn over.

'It's his birthday, Professor,' you added imploringly.

'Oh, all right, come in, then, come in,' said Slughorn, relenting. 'I've got the necessary here in my bag, it's not a difficult antidote ...'

Ron burst through the door into Slughorn's overheated, crowded study, tripped over a tasselled footstool, regained his balance by seizing Harry around the neck and muttered, 'She didn't see that, did she?'

'She's not here yet,' said Harry, watching Slughorn opening his potion kit and adding a few pinches of this and that to a small crystal bottle.

That's good,' said Ron fervently. 'How do I look?'

'Very handsome,' said Slughorn smoothly.

‘It can never be me, can it?’ you asked quietly so only Harry could hear, ‘Even when it’s a mistake...’

‘You have no idea.’ Harry whispered back, patting your hand slightly, handing Ron a glass of clear liquid. 'Now drink that up, it's a tonic for the nerves, keep you calm when she arrives, you know,'

'Brilliant,' said Ron eagerly, and he gulped the antidote down noisily.

Harry, you and Slughorn watched him. For a moment, Ron beamed at you. Then, very slowly, his grin sagged and vanished, to be replaced by an expression of utmost horror.

'Back to normal, then?' said Harry, grinning. Slughorn chuckled. Thanks a lot, Professor.'

'Don't mention it, m'boy, don't mention it,' said Slughorn, as Ron collapsed into a nearby armchair, looking devastated. 'Pick-me-up, that's what he needs,' Slughorn continued, now-bustling over to a table loaded with drinks. 'I've got Butter-beer, I've got wine, I've got one last bottle of this oak-matured mead ... hmm ... meant to give that to Dumbledore for Christmas ... ah well ...' he shrugged '... he can't miss what he's never had! Why don't we open it now and celebrate Mr Weasley's birthday? Nothing like a fine spirit to chase away the pangs of disappointed love ...'

He chortled again and you and Harry joined in.

There you are, then,' said Slughorn, handing Harry, Y/N and Ron a glass of mead each, before raising his own. 'Well, a very happy birthday, Ralph -'

'- Ron -' you whispered.

But Ron, who did not appear to be listening to the toast, had already thrown the mead into his mouth and swallowed it.

There was one second, hardly more than a heartbeat, in which Harry knew there was something terribly wrong and Slughorn, it seemed, did not. '- and may you have many more -

'Ron!' you yelled.

Ron had dropped his glass; he half-rose from his chair and then crumpled, his extremities jerking uncontrollably. Foam was dribbling from his mouth and his eyes were bulging from their sockets.

'Professor!' you bellowed. 'Do something!'

But Slughorn seemed paralysed by shock. Ron twitched and choked: his skin was turning blue.

'What - but -' spluttered Slughorn.

‘HARRY, THE STONE!’ you yelled, frightened at the spasming body in front of you.

Harry leapt over a low table and sprinted towards Slughorn's open potion kit, pulling out jars and pouches, while the terrible sound of Ron's gargling breath filled the room. Then he found it - the shrivelled kidney-like stone Slughorn had taken from him in Potions.

He hurtled back to Ron's side, wrenched open his jaw and thrust the bezoar into his mouth. Ron gave a great shudder; a rattling gasp and his body became limp and still.

-----------

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” you asked Madame Pomfrey for about the hundredth time.

“Yes dear, he’s fine,” she consolingly told you.

“Quick thinking on your part, Harry and Y/N. Using a bezoar.” Dumbledore informed you.

“I agree, Potter and L/N’s actions were heroic! Only, why were they necessary?” Professor McGonagall questioned.

As they moved onto a conversation about a plot, you moved Ron’s flaming red hair out of his face, gently stroking his arm. The thought of someone wanting to poison him was too gruesome.

“Where is he? Where is my Won-Won? Has he been asking for me?” a high-pitched voice suddenly asked as you groaned.

“You.” Lavender spat, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” you angrily shot back.

“I happen to be his girlfriend!” Lavender said in a dignified voice.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, “I happen to be his... best friend!”

“Friend.” Lavender scoffed, “Don’t make me laugh. You haven’t spoken in weeks! I suppose you want to patch up with him now that he’s all... interesting!”

“Interesting?!” you shrilly cried, “He’s poisoned, you daft dimbo!”

Ron chose that moment to groan in his sleep, muttering to himself unconsciously.

“Ah.” Lavender said triumphantly, “See? He senses my presence.”

“Ugh.” Ron groaned, still sleeping, “Uhh.... Y/N... Y/N/N...”

Your eyes grew wide as Lavender stifled a sob, running out of the room.

The professors stared after her.

“Oh, to be young.” Professor Dumbledore sighed, “And to feel love’s keen sting. I think we ought to leave, Mr. Weasley is well tended to by Miss L/N.”

“About time.” Ginny whispered as she and Harry shared a smirk, sending heat to your cheeks.

“Oh, shut up.” You huffed, still blushing madly as you stroked Ron’s hand.

-----

Ron had been released from the hospital wing, and was once again seated in the common room with you, Harry and Hermione at late night. The room was deserted.

“I’m leaving, Crookshanks is probably hungry,” Hermione announced, getting up.

The silence was deafening.

“So,” Harry said in an obvious attempt to make conversation, though you could practically feel the smirk in his voice, “Aren’t you curious, Ron? About how we drove Lavender away?”

“Not really.” Ron shrugged, “As long as she’s gone, it’s fine by me.”

The truth was, Ron was very much aware of what had caused the girl to run away from the hospital wing a week ago.

“Right.” Harry was smirking worse than ever, “Y/N. Say, why have you been avoiding Ron for so long?”

“Hmm?” you squeaked. Seeing no possible way out of this, you sighed, “He was being a git.”

“Aren’t I always being a git to you?” Ron teased, causing you to roll your eyes.

“And say, Ron. Why have you been so keen to get rid of Lavender?” Harry asked again.

“She was annoying me.” Ron whined, “All she did was snog me. My lips got chapped! Look!”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Harry grimaced in disgust, “But that can’t be all, can it? Is there someone else? Or are you ready to shag whoever asks you first?”

“Excuse me?” Ron’s ears had turned scarlet, “Of course not! So, what if there was someone else?”

“You like someone?” you asked, trying to make the agony in your voice less obvious.

Ron, who noticed it anyway, felt a small glimmer of hope inside his body, “Uhm, yeah. I do.”

“And who might that be?” you struggled to keep your voice even; it was already two octaves higher than usual.

Taking a deep breath and considering that this could prove to be a disaster, Ron told the truth.

“You. I fancy you.”

“WHAT?” you asked, “Did I hear that right?!”

“I said I fancy you!” Ron yelled in embarrassment and pain, scared that you would burst out laughing.

“Oh,” you said thickly, “Oh, Ron! I... I fancy you too.”

“What?” it was Ron’s turn to ask, “Say that again?”

“I fancy you too.” You clarified, cheeks burning.

Ron leaned into the distance between you and you could feel his breath on your face. Gaze flickering to your lips, he ran his thumb over them before closing the distance between you.

The kiss started out sweet and loving, but soon turned angry and passionate as your lips collided multiple times.

“Um, guys?” Harry asked, reminding you that he was still there, “I got the point, you can stop now.”

Ignoring him, you and Ron continued.

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