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st4rbe0m · 1 month

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PAIRING ▸ Nishimura Riki x fem!reader

SUMMARY ▸"Am I dating Y/N L/N? No thanks, I'd rather choke." Or in which you're clearly using some sort of spell to entice Riki, because why on earth would he suddenly start feeling this way about you?

GENRE ▸one-sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, she fell first but he fell harder, angst (lots of it), slow-ish burn.

WARNINGS ▸ swearing, featuring Eunchae from LeSserafim as your best friend and some additional cameos by other idols, some of dickish behaviour from Riki at the start :(, kissing, mentions of curses, occults knowledge, spells and witchcraft.

WC ▸ 7.1K

A/N ▸ Thank you for the immense support for this on the teaser!! I hope this lives up to your expectations, and I hope you guys enjoy the rest of my work as well :)

PLAYLIST ▸ Voodoo Doll by 5 Seconds of Summer, Kiss Me Kiss Me by 5 Seconds of Summer, Brought the Heat Back by Enhypen, Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction

masterlist

The air is a sweet smelling summer type, the day you first meet Nishimura Riki. He's a scrawny little thing of twig arms and downcast, shy eyes. Having moved to Korea from Japan only barely a month back, the number of words he can say in this newfound land in the foreign language can be counted on one hand. And this poses a problem to him right now, considering how his older sister had already gone off on her own despite their mother's strict orders to stay together at all times. You spot the boy, a sprightly little thing yourself, and the first thing you notice is his eyes. The most gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes. They looked like the black beetles you saw in the spring - lazing on the dark brown tree trunks, absolutely fascinating and captivating.

Nishimura Riki is six years old and scared. He's at a playground with kids his age, but he feels like an alien in his own skin. They're all either playing in groups or duos - but no dice for singles. It's times like this that makes him want to clutch on to the fabric of his mother's dress and be whisked away to safety. A place where he doesn't feel so out of place. His soft, trembling body stills in a bit of surprise as a gentle tap knocks on his shoulder, ever so slightly. Turning around fearful of being picked on, he only comes face to face with a girl. You're looking straight at him with owlish, unblinking eyes that make Riki shiver in your gaze - feeling smaller and smaller than before. He doesn't like how you're looking at him, not in the slightest. "Hi there! I'm Y/N L/N. Are you new here?" You're quite articulate for a kid, he thinks, as if he's not one himself. He's barely managed to string together the meaning of what you said through his broken understanding of the language, but it's the general environment about you that makes him hesitate. His lack of a response doesn't deter you apparently, as suddenly you're latching on to his wrist, trying to pull him to the sand pit, babbling on and on about being his new friend and offering to show him around town. He doesn't know how to get out of your vice-like grip, but he doesn't mind your company either. But it's just all too much. There's too many things going on around him, and you're too loud.

Suddenly, he's wrenching his hand out of yours, a scowl on his youthful features. It's a frown directed right at you like a bullet, but it leaves you unscathed. You still look at him with a complete look of innocence, completely boring into his own eyes. There's something about the way you look at him, and he hates it. He notices the way you hold no precise expression on your face, only a peaceful and serene look coupled with the way one would gaze when they felt curious and fascinated. He decides at that moment, with all the iron resolve of a six year old boy, that he hated this girl. He hated you and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you.

But this was in no way similar to the way you were feeling currently. With the way that inky void in his eyes were pulling you in like a siren song, you decided that you loved Nishimura Riki.

11 years later

"Riki! Riki!". Your chants are loud even amongst the bustling crowd of attendees, all mingling about on the bleachers, eyes trained on the orange basketball as the squeaking sound of shoes against the polished wooden floor accentuated the tension of this cut-throat game. Jersey number 9, tallest on the team and jet black hair that had everyone reeling in his subtle aura, Riki's eyes are piercing as his focus solely stays on two things - the first being how to get past the rival team's defense, and the second being how annoying your cheering was to him.

Their opposing team is not letting them cut through this bottle neck tie easily, and the red timer with its robotic, digital numbers clocking down to the game's end was not really helping either. It was right now, or never. And Riki never let a game get to the tie-breaker, ever. He's quick and sharp witted, and he's got the athletic skill to get past the crowding defense team, and with a crisp swish of the white net hanging on the post, the ball is swiftly sent through the basket. The whistle is loud, but the rest of his teammates are louder, wasting no time in running on the court to aggressively smother their prodigal player in affection and sweat, with Riki glaring away at them in faux irritation, but clearly preening in their pride. This was an important game after all, because it would be the game that would help team captain, Lee Heesung, who was graduating this spring, to choose the next in line to his legacy. And anyone with two eyes, who wasn't even on the team could easily say it belonged to Riki.

Your voice is back, louder again this time, and it has Riki grimacing amongst the celebrations, and Sunoo and Taki, his friends who had descended from the stands themselves, gave each other a knowing look of what was about to occur.

You're singing praises and it has him glowing, regardless of the frown marrying his sharp features. "God, that was so cool! You're so, so tall, it must have been an advantage for sure, but wow I mean that basket? Crazy!"

He's still glaring at you and his teammates have wry smiles on their faces. Your praises quieten down when you, and Riki, notice Lee Heesung walking over to Riki with a championing grin that only means one thing. Ushering Riki away, you just gazed at him at raw adoration as the boy's face lit up with the news Heesung was breaking him.

"By the way dude, are you dating that girl there? Y/N L/N?"

The question has him coughing slightly from the water he was chugging down. Sunoo and Taki are cackling violently at his expression, like Heesung had performed the most blasphemous act in front of him. "Heesung, what the hell dude. I'm not dating her, at all. I'll only date Y/N when pigs start flying."

He looks back to where you stood before, now gone from that spot. You always waited a bit before you left, usually, trying to catch him and make conversation with him, so this was new. A different kind of feeling he wasn't sure he was used to. It was strange, how he felt a bit different from the absence of you.

"Look, oh my god!" Taki cries out, pointing vaguely at the air. "What?" "I just saw a pig fly." “Shut the fuck up man.”

You were a curse sent from hell to torment him, that much was sure. He wasn’t sure what penance he was due to pay in this life for his previous actions that caused you to appear in his life, considering how since that moment on the playground, you’ve done nothing to actually make his life any better. And while he was explaining this very situation to Heesung, who was now sporting an amused grin at the way the normally nonchalant Riki’s mouth seemed to fly a mile a minute, Sunoo interrupted with a gasp at a particularly harsh tease. “She isn’t even doing anything bad you prick! I’d kill to have someone crush on me that long!”

“Oh you can have her then, Sun. I do not want to see her in my life ever again once we’re out of here.” He huffs.

The various examples of the ways you’d managed to make things bad for him seemed to resurface to his mind almost immediately, souring his mood. Like when in middle school, when he bagged the hottest girl of their grade, Choi Ri-ah, to go out with him. It was magical to Riki, that eighth grade relationship - mainly because him being in it meant having you off his back. Your displeasure with his newfound relationship status was not a secret either, no your distaste was very clear, with the way you’d frown when they would walk in the hallways together holding hands, which in eighth grade, was a very big deal. It didn’t help that Ri-ah was also your quote unquote, sworn enemy. The two of you had hated each other's guts since almost preschool, and the sickening punch in the stomach was how she’d managed to be with the only guy you’d ever loved. But Riki didn’t know any of that. And frankly, he didn’t care much about his and Ri-ah’s conversations or dates, where he would nod along as she talked his ears off about getting new earrings or the summer holiday her father was planning, where she was going to get the most outrageous tan. Sure, he liked her. But he liked not hearing your voice constantly bugging him more.

“Dude she didn’t end your relationship with Ri-ah! Ri-ah was already going after another guy from that prep school, she just needed an excuse to end the relationship and made Y/N the scapegoat.” Taki told him exasperatedly, which just fell on deaf ears, because Riki was still convinced that you were the reason for the demise of his juvenile dating plan. Ri-ah had broken up with him seemingly out of the blue, over text, claiming that she felt uncomfortable dating a boy who was so coveted by another girl. And when fourteen year old Riki read that heartbreaking message curled up in his duvet at 10PM on a Tuesday, he just felt a bitter pill of hatred for you. Nothing had changed in the six years since that fateful meeting at the playground, no. You still made Riki shudder.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

“He’s absolutely phenomenal.” You breathe out in a sigh, full of awe as you watch Riki skirt across the court with lightning speed. The dreamy looks and the lovestruck sounds was like routine to Eunchae, who had honestly even given up on rolling her eyes at you, because with the way she’d spent the last 10 years doing the same, she was afraid her eyes would get stuck at the back of the skull due to routine. It was truly a wonder how you hadn’t given up immediately after the first few tries - when he was extremely stubborn in denouncing the “Y/N’s boyfriend” title he’d earned. But you had your justification ready to go - that he never outright rejected you. Sure, he politely declined some invitations, but never a word against your feelings as such. It still raised the question, as to how you could chase a guy around this long. Because to you, the reason was quite fundamental - his eyes were still beautiful, and most importantly, they held no hate. Not an ounce of it, no matter how hard he tried to emulate it, which gave you hope.

Unfortunately hope was a wonderful thing for sure, but also dangerous. It was quite the cycle you’d found yourself stuck in, and you weren’t honestly sure how long you could afford to linger as nothing but a mandatory footnote to him. It was eating away at you. But hope, hope made you hold on.

Only Eunchae knew about the firm decision you’d taken last night. After all, she was your closest friend. And she even held you, as you solemnly promised to yourself, on the eve of the 11th anniversary of the day you first met Riki, to leave him behind forever, if there wasn’t any improvement in his behavior, or general perception of you. It was shocking, and honestly a huge decision. But firm in its promise, that last hook of hope would be gone soon by tomorrow.

“You know he ignored you again, right?” Eunchae points out for the nth time, and like always that doesn’t deter you, as you gaze lovingly upon where the soon-to-be former captain Heesung was talking to Riki about leading the team, a position quite coveted which you were very proud of Riki for acquiring. The pride that swelled in your heart was immense, but the cold words you heard Riki utter were like a small pin-prick on your heart. He was tense from the game, and let’s be honest, you’d always managed to survive the weight of his brash words. But why did this one hurt so much? Were you reaching your breaking point, finally? No wonder you’d tipped and already decided to get over him last night.

Snapping yourself out of these negative emotions, you decided to busy yourself a bit away from the bleachers and Heesung and Riki, focusing on Eunchae as she tried to decide where to grab a snack before you both went off to your own houses.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

The sound of his voice has always been melodious to you. It had a deep timbre and was almost soothing. But right now, you felt anything far from soothed. Your throat was closing up into a lump, and you huffed slightly as you blinked away tears. Eunchae’s eyes were blown wide in shock, and were slowly beginning to narrow in anger. Your movements were almost automatic as your hand reached out to stop Eunchae from storming out from your hiding spots’, the fuming girl looking like she was ready to punch Nishimura across the face immediately. The tears were burning into your lower lash line like furious embarrassment, making you more and more smaller, wishing now more than ever that the ground swallowed you whole. You kept telling yourself over and over again, that this wasn’t the first time you’d heard words of this type uttered against you by him. But it was like a disenchanting spell on you, the way a veil lifted off your eyes. A crack in the rose tinted looking-glass you always stared at him through.

“Y/N”, Eunchae’s voice is a careful whisper, sensing your vulnerability as your best friend. She knew you long enough to tell that those extremely cruel, mean words did more than just a regular rebound on your thick skin. She was cooling down in an attempt to comfort you, rubbing your arm in support. Your lower lip was wobbling, and you felt like someone had slapped you hard across the cheek. You weren’t that annoying to put up with, were you?

Your heart felt stomped on at that point, and you wanted nothing more than to get away. As shocking as it was, you couldn’t stomach being around Riki right now, and hastily grabbing Eunchae and making a beeline towards the exit, your downtrodden expression morphed to anger as your shoulder harshly bumped against Riki’s, who’s expression you couldn’t tell with the way you could only see red. Your decision was ironclad now, if it wasn’t firm already. This was the moment you’d decided to get over Nishimura Riki.

The touch of your shoulder against his was like a static current being passed through his skin, in the most pleasant way possible. Like he craved it. Riki was baffled, and even more so when he realized it was you, and your usually ever-present adoration from him being blatantly missing, even in this short interaction, if it even be called that. He felt a twinge of concern for you, which he suppressed easily. This was the Y/N he was talking about. Any emotion for you rather than disgust? No thank you!

However, it was strange. For the first time in your life, you felt almost nothing for Nishimura Riki. And for the first time in his life, he felt something for you.

It’s been a week since the fateful basketball game. You’ve been through the stages of grief quite quickly, storming through each of them with Eunchae helping you along, although your headstrong need to get better did worry her, that you weren’t actually processing your pain to heal. But to hell with all that. No, you wanted to eviscerate any remaining thought of Riki from your head immediately. The school day seems to be quite regular, with spring break just a mere two weeks away, that had people buzzing with low energy in the hallways, all in the state of deciding their spring break plans. Your spring break plans weren’t anything fancy, or anything at all rather - with the main idea being that you’d while away the time with your best friend, doing all the fun activities you could possibly do. And a break that you were sure would be the final nail in the coffin that contained the corpse of your feelings for Riki, the dark haired boy who up till now kept an iron grip on your heart.

The boy in question, like you, had also spent the previous week raging through some emotions. But in his case, rather he found them very confusing and very out of character. Of course, he wasn’t self actualised enough to work through them, and that led him to create a stubborn mindspace - that you, Y/N L/N were messing with his head by purposely ignoring him. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your presence and the recent lack of. Your voice wasn’t greeting him in the homeroom every morning anymore, and it was a change many had noticed, but not yet commented on. He found this pit in his stomach from the first week, the immediate day after the match, when he saw you sitting in class - head bent, hair falling over your face messily. And for a fleeting second, his hand had to fight off the urge to get up and brush them away. Your eyes looked slightly swollen, with a faint bloodshot look, like you’d spent the night crying rather than sleeping. It made his chest ache and his head spin slightly. What the hell? When the hell did he feel sorry for Y/N L/N? When the hell did he feel anything for Y/N L/N?

That was about three days ago, and that same pit in his stomach has been growing ever since. He, for whatever reason, missed you. Instead of coming face to face with this fact, he turned his back on it, and it was killing him. Pinpricks of pain would shoot through him whenever he noticed you deliberately changing your path on noticing him walk towards your way. God, it’s like he was a hostage to your feelings all these years, and automatically he felt guilty of thinking about you that way. You just liked him right? Why was he even so rude to you?

His behavior, and his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by all of his friends, even the basketball team, who were more than aware of your absence at practice anymore. Whatever you were doing to remove Riki from your life might be working in your favor, but it was ruining him.

His brain felt like someone was swirling its contents around with a spatula, making a mess of his thoughts and his emotions. He hadn’t wasted a moment in spilling his dilemma to Sunoo, and invariably the guys he was closest to on the basketball team - Jake, Sunghoon, Jay and Heesung. The team itself were all in all pretty much aware of how the youngest was going through quite the mind-boggling series of epiphanies (if it could even be called that. Jay liked to refer to it as just a dumbass waking up from his stupidity sleep).

“Dude, I just don’t know anymore. Her not being there is very odd to me? I just can’t get used to it.” Riki sighs, shaking his head as he thumbs around his packet of Cheetos, slumping against the cafeteria wall, while the rest of his group gathered around him like a pack, eagerly listening in. “But isn’t that what you wanted? So there must be something else then? Maybe you didn’t mind her as much as you let on?” Jake inquired, his head tilting like a confused puppy. That had Riki scratching his head again. He saw you this morning by your locker. You were catching up with Eunchae, both of you laughing boldly to whatever Eunchae had just said, and there was a glow on your face as your eyes crinkled in amusement, which made a heartbeat skip in his chest. He was staring longingly at you, and it seemed like you noticed, because your eyes met his in scrutiny - your single glance making him feel like that six year old at the playground again.

When you were in freshman year, you had developed a fascination with reading horror novels and mangas and watching horror movies very frequently. Something about spirits and the occult had interested you very much, and many people around you knew about this hobby of yours. If anyone had any doubts about the intricacies of rituals and possessions, spells and witchcraft, they’d just go to you. Right now, Riki thinks that’s exactly what’s happening to him - you’d used your occult knowledge to put a spell on him. Of course, he knew how ridiculous he sounded. But he felt like he was bound to you, and couldn’t shake off your spell no matter how much he tried. And it was purely on him. This was just all so,so confusing, which he decided not to voice out to his friends until he himself had gotten a grip on what was happening to him. How he kept thinking about your little habits. Day before yesterday, he found himself soaked in sweat and thirsty beyond comparison after practice. Parched and defeated, he stumbled along to the locker room to find his flavored water that one of his teammates usually kept in his locker for him, only to come up empty handed.

“Jake, have you seen my flavored water? I figured you usually put one in my locker.” He asked nonchalantly, only to find Jake, and the rest of the team that entered the room in a state of sly smiles, stifled giggles and shock.

“Dude, we never did any of that. Y/N did that, she’d purchase the fancy water for you and put it in your locker before we came for practice.”

It made him feel different. He was blinking slow, and his brain was sluggish. You did that for him? God, you were so sweet, weren’t you. He already felt a bit sad about not seeing your bright grin that you directed to him in the morning (even though he always dismissed it with ignorance), but this was the cherry on top. You had loved him to death, and now he was a dead man walking without you.

“He looked at you, you know.” Eunchae is careful in her observation, but she knows you noticed too. Your pupils seem narrowed, and your lips are drawn in a tight line as you contemplate that look he gave you. You still couldn’t fight off the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you met his eyes - those gorgeous, beetle-black eyes that had a magnetic pull to them. But within the haze of your flusteredness, you’d managed to catch the slight look of misery in them. He was looking at you like he was an injured puppy, lost without you. But your resolve was stronger. With the utmost focus, you managed to drive away the maddening thoughts of the possibility of him missing you away, and walked away with Eunchae.

Over the weekend, Riki had realized that being away from you was driving him insane. So on Monday, he was pulling his chair close to yours in the classroom, the metallic screech against the wooden flooring making everyone turn their heads to the scene, their eyes widening in shock at what was unfolding in front of their eyes. How on Earth was Nishimura Riki sitting next to Y/N L/N? Your thoughts were also very similar to the rest of your classmates, because what was happening right now? Riki, the boy you’d put your heart dangerously on the line for was right here, sitting next to you. His movements were awkward and he was fiddling with his fingers while casting shy glances towards you, reminding you of the scared six year old version of him you’d met at the playground. There is a faint red crawling up his pale ears, and he clears his throat roughly, before saying “Is it alright if I sit here?”

Your all consuming feelings seemed to come back like a crashing wave on the shore the moment he uttered those words to you, and you just nodded wordlessly, too shocked to say anything.

You look too pretty this morning, and it’s messing with his head. Riki’s beating himself up internally, because this wouldn’t be so difficult if you weren’t so goddamn beautiful for some reason. He nods when you do, and then gets to his work. His proximity feels dizzying to you, and the scent of his cologne makes it harder for you to focus on the work in front of you. He’s biting into his lip hard, to suppress the urge to just hold your hand. The smell of your shampoo, the warmth of your thigh being barely centimeters next to you. You’re both so horribly blind and it is just painful to you both, unbeknownst to each of you.

Nishimura Riki liked you. He really, really liked you. And as he turned his head to see your face, accented by the golden sunlight and eyes sparkling like dewdrops in the early morning, he knew that even if he wanted to run, he couldn't. He was trapped under your spell, and the thought of it made him smile.

The following days are filled with such odd interactions with Riki. He always found an excuse to find you first in classrooms, or walk you to the cafeteria. You suddenly found yourself back at basketball practices again, but this time forcefully dragged to the court by Riki, and an amused Eunchae in tow. He was there to offer you snacks and drinks from the vending machine. He helped you with homework and you helped him with his. Whatever diabolical game he was playing was working wonders on you, because suddenly all you could see behind your closed eyes was his gorgeous face.

The rest of the student body isn’t blind to his newfound affection for you. It’s all they’ve been talking about the entire time. His teammates slap his back in teasing jests while he shoos them all away, all the while that smile never leaving his face.

“There’s no way!” You’re laughing hard, and yours and Riki’s shared giggles are quite audible over the soccer field. You’re both sitting on the grass just after practice, where Riki’s cooling off in the gentle breeze blowing across the grass. He’s telling you about some antics he had put up in class to get away from not turning in assignments, which involved a fake rubber rat and a very scared Calculus teacher. You’re wiping tears from your eyes from the laughter while Riki shakes his head in amusement. The breeze blows a single leaf to land right on top of your head, and it makes you giggle harder.

He shuffles a bit closer to you, arm raising up to remove the leaf from your head. His breath is warm as it fans across your warming cheeks, the narrowed distance between you both not being lost on either of you. His eyes meet yours, and you’re still a goner for them. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in nervousness, yet he makes no attempt to move away. Instead, he feels a bold surge in him. His finger loops around the bow on your school uniform, tugging the ribbon and invariably, you, forward towards him, making the breath in your throat hitch, and your eyes becoming wide as saucers. His eyes dip to your cupid’s bow, and scan over your lips and how they’re parted. Riki spends not a second more pressing his lips to yours, and you’re in heaven.

The walk back to your house is full of shy touches, and the warmth of your hand in his. Riki’s lips are still tingling where yours were just moments ago. He can’t even begin to fathom how he ended up here - from loathing you to wanting to kiss you again. He was addicted to you and wanted more of you. But these things needed to be paced, and Riki wanted it done right. Bidding you goodbye in front of your house, where you left him with another giggle-pressed kiss to his cheek and a warm buzz filling his body, he was absolutely enamored by Y/N L/N.

The next day, he wakes up and it’s a good day. It’s a good day because he’s going to ask you out finally. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, just because of the implausibility of the situation. There was a brightness surrounding the boy all throughout, a contrast to his regular attitude. Sunoo and Taki had been updated already, and he was planning to tell the team, the rest of his friends during practice, after which he would ask you on a date during your regular after-practice hangouts. Except for the life of him he couldn’t find you, at all. It was unfortunate that today was the day of the announcement of the student council election results, for which classes were mostly halted, since the student council was quite a big deal

He’s scanning around to find you amongst the crowd of the assembly where the results were to be announced - only to spot you a bit later. Also, he notices that you’re not alone. You’re grinning (a bit too much for his liking, if he's being honest) at Yang Jungwon, the boy who was the sure-shot winner of the President position. You’re too close to him, and it makes his heart clench. He’s biting his tongue until it almost bleeds. He doesn’t get an opportunity to speak to you, as the event commences. He just decides to wait till later, ignoring the pain in his chest he got from seeing you with another guy.

“The President of this year’s student council is Yang Jungwon.” There’s a smattering of loud applause, and even Riki joins in half-heartedly, still wounded over what he was previously. “The position of Vice President goes to his running mate, Y/N L/N!”.

He’s still in his place, though his heart bursts with pride and joy for you, his eyes drinking in your excited run up to the stage, shaking hands with the Principal of the school. Your face is broken into the biggest smile ever, and your eyes are shining from pure happiness. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t he know you were going for it? Or that Jungwon was your running mate?”

But all in all he’s very, very happy and proud of you, so he squishes down that ugly feeling of jealousy in him, and focuses on how you somehow look directly right at him. Your smile drops a little when you notice he isn’t clapping, a fact Riki himself didn’t realize, too busy staring in awe at you. It takes Eunchae’s loud hollering in the crowd to break you out of your stupor and your return to your regular state.

He’s changing out of his practice clothes, feeling a bit down from the events that actually happened today and how he’d expected it to go. He hadn’t been able to catch a moment alone with you after the ceremony, and four of the older members of the team were missing from practice today too, since Jay was the treasurer of the previous session, he had to oversee the handing over of the duties to the newer batch. Practice, because of that, ended up being him, and the benchwarmers and people he didn’t really know all that well. It was something he had to get used to as the new captain, so he figured this would serve as a good preview. He was talking to another benchwarmer of his grade, Junhee, while changing. Junhee wasn’t necessarily a good person, if Riki was honest. He always hung out with the rash crowd and got into fights because of his crass nature. He placed the small box of chocolates he’s managed to quickly buy for you from a store outside school, a sticky note with your name and a congratulation scrawled on it, down on the metallic bench as he gathered up the rest of his things. This doesn’t escape Junhee’s notice, who smirks lazily as he spots the name on the post-it.

“No way, Nishimura. She did it, huh?”

Riki already doesn’t like the way he refers to you as just someone, and it sets his skin aflame. “Hmm?” he responds half-heartedly, not at all interested in maintaining a conversation with Junhee of all people. “Well, doesn’t it make sense, Nishimura? She’s into that horror shit right? Clearly she’s made a voodoo doll of you and forced you to love her. Manifestation shit, am I right?”

Riki’s blood is boiling as he hears what Junhee is saying, but for some reason he says nothing back. It’s like he’s trapped in this vortex in his mind fueled by the insecurity he felt from seeing you with Jungwon, or how he felt out of the loop about your co-curricular adventure. Staying mum, he just grabbed the chocolate box, and turned around, only to gasp in shock to see you standing right there. Your mouth is twisted downwards in disappointment, and you’re staring at him with absolute loathing in your eyes right now. He rushed forward towards you, ready to explain, and also wanting desperately to punch the snickering Junhee behind him, who was now slinking away from the scene.

It feels like there is a knife in your back and twisting itself in your flesh all over again. There is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating you overwhelmingly. It’s jarring and mind-boggling. So before Riki gets to you, you run.

Eunchae is gathering you up in her arms as your inconsolable state renders you helpless, slumping on the floor of your bedroom, finding it harder to breathe as the sadness keeps washing over you in painful crashes, making you feel weaker and weaker as the time goes.

“Why does he hate me, Eun? He kissed me, didn’t he? So why is he so cruel?”

The six boys in Riki’s room are trying their best with damage control, as they all had rushed over to his house when Riki had texted them in a panic and explained what had gone down. “But why didn’t you defend yourself in front of Junhee in the first place man?”, Taki asks frustratedly, tugging at his hair. Riki frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face while his chest aches. “I kept thinking about her and Jungwon. I treated her terribly before all this, didn’t I? I just kept thinking how she might like Jungwon now.” His eyes are downcast in sadness, and his voice is broken. Pulling up a chair right in front of Riki, Heesung plops down and holds Riki up by the shoulders, squaring him up. “Riki. Go. Go right now and apologize, before you lose her even more.” Riki is crying harder now, and wiping his tears, he breaks and finally tells them. “I don’t think I want to be without her, Heesung. I want her love, no matter if it drives me to my end.”

Riki sees how Eunchae slipped out of your house to walk towards the supermarket, no doubt to get you both some consolation food. He takes this moment to approach your front door, knocking furiously in nervousness and apprehension. It’s now or never.

You open the door, assuming it’s Eunchae who left something behind before she left, so seeing Riki - messy hair, lips bitten to the extreme and bloodshot eyes standing on your front porch knocked the wind out of your lungs. Ready to slam the door on his face, his long hand stops you from doing so, pleading “Y/N please, please just listen to me. It wasn’t how it happened. I didn’t agree with Junhee at all. I like you, Y/N L/N, like it’s breathing. Being away from you makes me lose my mind, and I know I haven’t been the best to you in the past. But please, Y/N. I need you to give me a chance. I need you.”

There’s warm tears flowing down your face, and even in this state Riki thinks you’re beautiful. The porch light shines on your face and you look angelic. He hopes it showed in your mercy as well.

“Why didn’t you disagree?” you sniffle, sweater paws raising up to wipe away some of the tears on your face. The dejected tone with which you ask him makes him feel a deep tug in his heart, aching and sad. “I felt. Jealous. And angry, that Jungwon was so close to you, and that you hadn’t told me about being his running mate. And I know that doesn’t excuse my actions. I just felt, I don’t know. Out of the loop.”

“I wanted to surprise you with the vice president's news.” You mumbled, head down. Riki hesitantly moved toward you, and slowly patting your head, he said “I was surprised, baby, and so, so proud of you. I felt so proud of my girl up there.” He says hoarsely, hoping that his sincerity is as evident as much as he feels it.

The breath gets knocked out as he groans through his mouth with the impact of your crushing hug. You have your face burrow into his chest, crying softly but also laughing slightly, wetting his shirt. He doesn’t spare a moment to wrap his arms around you tightly, fearing that letting go would mean that he’d lose you again. He sniffs in the soothing and familiar scent of your shampoo and mumbles into your hair, “I don’t know what spell you’ve casted on me, Y/N L/N. But I want to be under it forever.”

The sunlight, Riki thinks, just manages to make you so beautiful that it makes Riki speechless every single time. A lot has changed since the playground and the years after that. And a lot more changed within the last year too. You and Riki are midway through your senior year now. He was sad when he had to bid farewell to the older members of the basketball team, who were practically like brothers to him now. You continued your duties as vice president, though the shared activities you had with Jungwon, still a sore spot for Riki, made him pout adorably, which you always kissed away with a laugh. Riki was the basketball captain now, which added new responsibilities to his shoulder, which he carried excellently. The evidence of which was the recent basketball game that he’d just won with the team. The pep rally, and most of the team was still loitering around the court (Junhee was out. It was one of the first things Riki did as captain, in fact). Riki had sneaked you out to that fateful soccer field where you both had first kissed, and a beautiful sense of deja vu hit him as he looked at you in wonder - how you’d managed to put up with all of him was still a mystery to the boy. But, when you looked to meet his eyes - those dazzling, black eyes that glittered under the setting sun, you both realized - you were both enchanted by each other.

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fraugwinska · 3 months

Text

Minors DNI - 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - 4,6k words Attention: Mentions of fictional Witchcraft and Voodoo (I know this is a very sensitive topic, which is why I threaded very vaguely and lightly. I mean absolutely NO disrespect to either of those spiritualities)

Master of Puppets

You paced nervously through your room. The clock ticked the safe seconds away, the seconds Alastor where wasn't here. The seconds where Alastor didn't know.

He liked you, of course. At least enough to experiment with you, that much you could say with confidence. He had shown interest in the little witch inventor that joined the hotel, sharing the same proficiency in magic as himself. Although, unlike him, you had been an eclectic witch in your lifetime, and used more traditional western magic, whereas Alastor wasn't familiar with that, relying fully on voodoo practices he learned from the women of his family. So, you taught him and he taught you, and over the shared hours of lessons, discussions and practices, things got more and more... handsy. Until one day even the last gap between you was closed, and before both of you knew it you were sharing a bed more often than a book on sigils or rituals.

It was a mutual thing. You were insanely attracted to him, and he liked you well enough to indulge in activities he'd normally frown upon. Which made you feel special - It didn't soothe the nerves though, as you fumbled around with the little objects in the black carved box, making sure everything was perfect, before hastily slamming it shut when you heard knocks on the door.

"Yes?" you said, as if you hadn't been expecting him, as if your heart wasn't trying to leap out of your chest.

"Darling, it's me! May I come in?" you heard him say, and the door opening before you could answer. "I hope I'm not too early."

You turned around, giving him a shy smile after glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're right on time, as always."

"Punctuality is one of the only virtues I try uphold." He took a few steps towards you. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."

"Do I? It's... Nothing. I just have... I'm excited for something to show to you."

"Really?" He was intrigued, leaning in a little. "Well, now I'm curious. Is it the skinning spell you've been working on? I might have some test subjects in mind, if you are already finished."

You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beating painfully in your chest. "Not quite. I made something new, though."

"Oh?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "What is it?"

You fidgeted, not knowing how to start, how to ease him into it. He was a man that didn't appreciate if one beat around the bush, so better to rip the band-aid off in one violent, leap-of-faith-kind of way. You went to the black box, fingers trembling as you lifted the golden hatch, and before you could change your mind and call the whole thing off you scooped the small voodoo dolls out and held them out to him.

"I made these. For you... Us."

He was taken aback for a moment, not saying anything as he stared at the two little cloth figures, then down at you. They were intricately made replicas of you both, you had spent hours and hours sewing them, even going so far as to design and make identical outfits for them. He took both of them out of your hands, turning them slowly in his own, examining them with a frighteningly unreadable look.

"So you solely tried your hands on my profession I see. Why?" his eyes were boring into you, the smile on his face tight and tense, and you had to fight yourself not to stutter.

"I-I figured..." You swallowed hard. "I thought it could help us to... to be closer. More connected, in a way. And I thought you would like to... try this."

He blinked slowly, and the grin he wore stretched a bit further, the static getting louder in your ears. You were starting to think he didn't like it. You were starting to regret this.

"It is an unusual gift." His voice was calm, laced with a hint of curiosity, but you still couldn't relax. "Quite a surprise, too."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, and he chuckled softly.

"I don't know, darling. That depends on how it will be used." He holds up your miniature, his brows raised expectantly. "Tell me how it works."

"Uh... Well, it's more of a mix between your and my magic. T-they have some of my spells sewn into them, and then I enchanted them on your altar. All that's left to do is to tie a hair around the neck of it and offer a drop of blood, and... we will be able to feel anything that's done to the doll."

"Feel?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes gleaming with dark excitement.

"Anything." Your throat was dry, the words almost catching there.

"That sounds positively delightful."

Your heart did a flip in your chest as his voice lowered into a purr, his eyes fixed on the tiny you, the static rising around him. He was captivated, but also suspicious, and that didn't make your anxiety lessen one bit. More so as he found the red stain on your dolls chest and the shimmer of a hair around its neck. Your version of a peace offering.

"It seems this little thing is already prepared and ready to use, isn't it, dearest?" he hummed, looking at you, the smile stretching wide and showing his sharp teeth.

"Yes... if you wanted to... see how it worked first. To decide whether you want to give it a try."

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver. There was no humor in it, but sheer anticipation. Hunger. "Well then. Better not waste such a generous opportunity."

He sat his own replica down on the nightstand next to your bed, and settled down on the mattress, patting the spot next to him for you to join. You did, sitting as stiff as a board, your eyes trained on him as he looked down at your little doll. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before running his fingers across the doll's body, and you gasped.

All your hard work evidently payed off - The touch felt eerily real. Warm, like the heat of his hands was spreading all over you, a soft caress up the middle of your stomach, a tickle around your waist. His fingertips traveled upward, pressing softly against your chest, and your breath stocked in your lungs.

"You've really outdone yourself with this one darling. So receptive..." Alastor's smile widened into a full grin, and the fact that he didn't need to touch your skin to see the blush creeping across your cheeks was one detail he seemed to particularly enjoy. The rough feeling of his claws grating against you was replaced with the hot touch of phantom lips, pressing gently against your neck as he pulled the small shirt collar aside, his tongue licking across the doll's shoulder.

The sensation almost felt out of place in comparison, making you fall onto your back with a gasp, into the soft covers of your bed, unable to maintain any sort of composure. Instead of feather light touches, his mouth felt way heavier on your skin than it should. Warm, wet... As he scraped his teeth along the little doll's neck, a low moan slipped between your lips.

"And what attention to details. It's almost a shame to ruin your hard work, but oh well."

His eyes stayed on you as he hooked a fingertip under the dolls garments, cutting it clean off of it, and even though yours stayed fully intact - what you were feeling was a whole different story. Your eyes betrayed you: Even fully clothed you felt the cool air of your room on your skin, you felt exposed, bare and utterly vulnerable. It made your skin break out in goosebumps and your lips part in an unstifled sound of arousal.

"Gorgeous, darling... Absolutely wonderful. A truly masterful piece of magic." The tone of his voice was tingling all over you, a mixture of warm affection and dark cravings. You had never been one to enjoy being praised by a man, but it made you close your eyes and squirm with absolute and desperate need when it came from Alastor. Mouth already open to say something, the words died in your throat, replaced by a high whine when you felt a wet sensation traveling over your stomach down to the inside of your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, finding Alastor's again, his irises practically glowing and locked on you as he ran his tongue all the way across the small body. Teasing. Playing. He narrowed his eyes and traced every curve with the same meticulous patience you knew him for, the sensation sending shocks of excitement and adrenaline through you as it circled the dolls skin, drawing closer and closer to the most intimate parts, until there was nowhere else to trail, nowhere else for it to run to. He stopped, leaving you flushed and panting and shattered next to him on the bed.

"My, my, sweetheart..." he cooed, poking the little doll in his hands into it's side with the softest touch, making you jerk into his side. "At this rate, this seems more like a gift for you than for me."

The blush on your face deepened and you averted your eyes. "...You're probably not wrong."

"No, I'd say I am absolutely right," he chuckled, shifting closer and tracing a hand up your body and to your throat in a smooth motion, and your body arched into the touch with the ease of a moth to flame. For a moment, he didn't move, resting his claws wrapped around your neck, his fingertips heavy on your skin. He seemed to weight his options, deciding on how to proceed. Finally, he leaned into you, bringing his lips closer to yours and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I'll trust you to rectify this circumstance then."

Your eyes widened when he stood up, gently placing your doll down and switching its place with his own. You sat up, watching how he carefully plucked a hair from his head, wrapping it tightly around the neck of his miniature alter ego. It looked almost sinfully elegant and downright seductive, how his long fingers tied it tightly, before he turned back to you, his grin splitting his face in half. There was something in his expression you haven't seen before - hesitancy. It was only a second, but you still held your breath as it passed, and he chuckled as he bit his lip, dark, almost black blood dripping onto the chest of the doll in his hands.

"A rare occasion for me to spill blood. I hope you'll make it worth it."

You swallowed heavily and he grinned, reaching for your hand and gently putting the doll on your palm, giving you a stern, commanding look. "My turn."

You nodded as he settled himself on your bed, now stretching himself fully on the mattress. Lifting your other hand you carefully laid one finger on top of his dolls' throat, before drawing your fingers across and down, over its chest and its sides, making his form shiver and his ears twitch. As you undid the small coat and shirt, dragging your nail gently over the dolls abdomen, Alastor gave a resounding, pleased sigh. You stared at him in wonder of your own work, silently asking yourself if your touches on the fabric in your hands felt as intensified as his did on yours before.

With a spark of nervous excitement you followed a whim of insanity, a quick glance confirming Alastor had his eyes closed. He had never before allowed you to touch his ears - now, their artificial counterparts were at your fingertips, and with a racing heart, you drew a stroke from the base of his ear right across its entire length, all the way until the fine point. A loud, drawn-out groan filled the room and your cheeks burnt crimson when his back arched and his hands twitched towards you, the knuckles white as he clenched them into fists, a tremor going through his shoulders. The groan ended in a long whine, the eyes snapping open and locking right into yours, and your breath hitched as you saw the smoldering embers. His grin grew tighter, strained, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach drop, your whole body feeling exposed and naked despite still being fully dressed.

"Testy little thing. Always going for most dangerous experiments..." He shook his head as he exhaled slowly, his breath ragged and labored and in the soft illumination of your bedside lamp his neck was dusted a light pink. You marveled for a second, mesmerized. That was, until his tone dropped an octave, making your body snap back to attention, your nipples hardening painfully beneath your clothes. "How about another then, darling. You do that again..." His shadow tendrils shot out from nowhere, wrapping around your waist and thighs and lifting you over his face as you yelped and almost let the doll slip from your hands, the hem of your skirt pushed aside and heated core right above his watering mouth. "...while I do this."

With no time left for a reply, you felt your flimsy panties flicked aside and your body lowered onto his waiting tongue, all thought replaced by a sudden wave of blinding ecstasy. There was something truly addicting about the heat and hunger of his lips, the way they locked around your clit and sucked you down in the best form of torturous pain like life depended on it, his nails digging into your hips with force, while your brain was practically erasing every input but the burning sensation below. The doll in your hands, pressed to your heaving chest, was long forgotten as your head fell back and each swipe of his cursed appendix sent a shockwave through your spine. You groaned, you whimpered, and Alastor could taste the waves of delicious agony on his tongue. When he withdrew, the loss of his wet heat and the chill of the cool air against your slick folds made you almost break out in tears.

"Focus, dearest, on the task I gave you. Or do I have to repeat myself?"

The growl in his voice snapped you out of it and made you take a shaky breath before you finally composed yourself. Your fingers trembled as they grazed the tips of the dolls ears again, your movements almost trance like as your whole body yearned for it to return onto his lips. Alastor's brows furrowed, lips pursed for a second as you drew a slow, sensual line up the miniatures length, stopping and softly kneading at the pointed tip.

"Good girl." he murmured, voice breathy, and for a second you could have sworn you saw his eye twitch, though his grin stayed firmly plastered onto his face. His words sent an instantaneous warmth pooling in your lower stomach, and your chest fluttered as you tried to swallow down the intense elation that shot through your veins at those words - the same words Alastor used when you mastered one of his magical exercises, and although the praise was always flattering, in this context it felt downright lewd and utterly divine to be called that. When your hand lowered a bit, massaging the base of the dolls ears, Alastor's noises became low growls and deep purrs around the wet skin his lips devoured. The black vines on your waist and legs tightened their grip as well, pushing you deeper down onto his mouth.

You hadn't even registered what happened, but with a snap your top was ripped in the front, the clasp of your bra followed, and the familiar humming sound of his static made you squeal in surprise when his voice was suddenly much louder, his tongue shoved into you as far as he could go and his shadows ripping your clothes off at lightning speed. With both hands stroking, massaging and pulling the dolls ears now, the pure pleasure hitting you was almost too much, but as much as your hands ached for the real thing, to run your nails over the red fluff and trace the soft curves and edges of the dark antlers growing on the sides of his head, all you could do was imagine, with all your fingers on the dolls soft material instead and moving furiously up and down its head, to do exactly the same thing.

Alastor growled underneath you, the sound deep and rumbling, sending vibrations through your trembling thighs and against your sensitive skin, and it sounded so much more desperate and disoriented than you had ever heard from him before. Had you been looking down, had you been able to see anything beyond the mind-shattering pleasure, the wide blown pupils and the unfocused gaze in the glowing red irises, you might have wondered why that was - Alastor's control was slipping, and his smile finally was showing that.

In an instant your body was turned and placed on your back, your limbs shaking in the grip of his shadows and body utterly at the mercy of the tall red man leaning over you and undoing his bow tie with the rapidity and precision of a professional magician. His hair had gotten a little ruffled in the process, and his red shirt hung open and wrinkled against his skin.

"A compelling exercise indeed, my dear." he spoke, the rasp in his tone and the ragged breath accentuating his words. With a swift movement his jacket joined the shirt and harness that already had been thrown onto the floor somewhere, and then the shadows were back and prodding against the soaked cloth, the only thing left around your hips. They snuck into every slit they could find, exposing more and more of you, while their owner's gaze hungrily devoured every bit of exposed skin. The stretchable fabric made for easy work, but you had the distinct feeling they wouldn't have needed it at all as the shadows literally dissolved every thread they encountered. Alastor reached for your replica again, seemingly collecting himself and catching his breath.

"You are quite talented, and it'll be a joy to discover what other marvels your mind can come up with." His claw dragged down over the dolls' hips, one set of real, the other set of simulated hands following it a millisecond after, right along your bare and barer sides, sending waves of anticipation down the inside of your thighs. In an instant, two very corporeal, long fingers were back between your folds, knuckle deep into your seeping core, and Alastor chuckled lowly at your surprised whine, the smug and devious purr rumbling in his chest as he took note of every twitch your body made to the tune of his strokes. "But I think it's about time to return the favor though, don't you agree?"

Still stroking that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, the hand that held your puppet glowed in bright green, and in between your moans and pants your wide eyes can't tear themselves from the strange symbols that appear around it, swirling and sparkling. You've seen Alastor perform magic countless of times, have watched and marveled at every spell he cast and his flair for the dramatic was only matched by the elegance of his every motion. But this? This was something else. The nonchalance with which his fingers pumped in and out of you, working meticulously, tactically, teasing you and working you into a mess with such a proficiency while he traced symbols with his free hand and the script, the raw power of it, the surge you could feel radiating from him, all that and his unflinching composure drove you mad with both desire and fascination.

The light and the symbols faded, and in his hands - the puppet, similar yet not quite. It felt off, almost lifelike, the fabric more skin-like, and with a gasp, you saw..

"Let me now see, if my own little contribution can be counted as an improvement, my little witch."

If someone asked you later on what had actually happened, you couldn't have said a single word - it was too salacious, too outrageous, too much outside of what you had ever expected from Alastor. How could you ever recount the way he pulled his throbbing cock out with his free hand - thick, dripping with precum and inhumanly beautiful. How his fingers were guiding your tiny copy to align with its tip, while he never left your eyes, smile almost manic.

He made holes. And seconds later, when he slowly pushed the doll onto his length, with his fingers still buried deep inside you, you knew that they worked. Oh, and how they worked.

"Oh m-my... god..."

It was heaven and hell. Bliss and torture, the feeling abhorrently delicious. The magical connection allowed every ridge, vein and vibration of his cock to transfer perfectly through the dolls body to you, making you shudder and keen at the intensity, the sheer tightness, and simultaneously Alastor groaned - a broken, rugged sound, loud enough to make you glance up with misty eyes from your debauched position. Your insides clenched hard around his fingers and the ghost of his cock, your toes curling as you whimpered, a picture perfect representation of how utterly sinful he looked with his dark lashes resting on his red cheeks, eyes shut and the mouth agape as his chest was rising and falling, breaths coming hard and labored.

He noticed your raptured gaze, looking down at you through hooded eyes, his smile positively obscene.

"Mh, I like the way you pray on me instead of one of your silly deities, darling. But you can call me Alastor."

And oh, how it felt, when his hand closed tightly around the little voodoo doll that was stuffed so full of him. You arched your back and writhed against the firm hold the tentacles had on you, pressing your knees against the pillows as he pulled his drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face to lick them clean. He groaned at the taste, closing his eyes and making an effort to concentrate, his control crumbling in tiny pebbles around you, and his hips started to snap, sheathing the miniature you further on his cock, thrusting in increasingly fast paced movements. A string of whimpers escaped you, his name spilling throughout them like a mantra, as you were unable to do much more but twitch, shake and tremble as his ministrations came faster, harder, and Alastor let his head fall back, baring his neck and swallowing.

"You're so-" He groaned, squeezing your dolls body, forcing it closer against him and sliding it off and back on at an excruciatingly slow pace, your moans climbing and escalating with every inch that moved through the magic veil and in and around your sopping center. "-goddamn perfect, perfectly made for me." Your body didn't know how to react anymore, you stuttered incoherently, everything full with his praise, with this cock that wasn't there but was, the heat that shouldn't have been possible to fill you but did. You felt every bit of skin and fur and sweat and the realization only dawned on you when it was already too late: That you were about to come harder than you ever did, and that Alastor was losing his mind just from watching your reactions to his assault on your doll.

"S-So tight and needy. What a perfect... little... toy you are." If they were meant for you below him or the doll in his hands - you didn't know. But the panted words and almost dirty, explicit praise spilled from his lips in a flurry, every syllable seemed strangely calculated, aimed like a dart straight into you and tearing down all defenses as your pussy twitched helplessly around the sensation of being stretched and fucked open on the image of his cock. When he chuckled and sank your doll to the base, grinding your little figure against him so the head of his cock poked and prodded you where it had never reached before, you all but screamed his name as you came, and your pathetic cries pulled a harsh string of groans and grunts out of the demon towering over you, his breathless cursing and rambled obscenities underlined by the vicious snaps of his hips as he used your simulacrum like a glorified sex toy. His nails pierced the outer layer of the doll as your walls constricted and contracted around the thick nothing as he finished you and himself off into the realm of oblivion.

Everything went white for a moment and when your senses returned, Alastor was carefully cradling you into his arms, the little replica sitting next to his own on your bedside table, their heads almost tenderly leaning on each other. He was gently raking his claws through your damp, disheveled hair, placing little kisses down the back of your neck and on the thin skin behind your ears as he mumbled silent praises against your skin. He kissed along your jaw, gentle as anything, a soft thumb grazing along your lips, cheeks and your temple as he traced the lines of your features until he found the pulse on your neck. The cold touch of his lips was a nice contrast to the hot breath, and you moaned softly at his affectionate gesture.

"It's never a disappointment with you, love, quite the contrary." He hummed, scraping his sharp teeth almost teasingly along the crook of your neck before kissing it, covering your skin with static electricity. "What a marvelous surprise you prepared for me, my dear, truly magical." His lips pressed into yours in a rare kiss, and you leaned back into his naked embrace and smiled, the giddy feeling of accomplishment spreading in your belly and mixing in beautifully with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"I'm glad... you liked it."

"Oh, that is hardly the phrase I would use," Alastor chuckled as he pulled back, making you blush as his red iris glowed dangerously. "But you, my dear, will have a little work to do, seeing as I'm positively spoiled after this gift. You have no idea of the things I'm thinking about, all the possibilities of what we can accomplish if we put both our minds – and magic - to it."

Alastor pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing his chin and cheeks across your scalp and shoulders, coating you with a generous amount of his scent as if to mark you before pulling the blankets up and covering the two of you as his arms locked around you possessively, letting you settle against his chest as he hummed a melody you didn't know. But you knew him well enough to know that it was a clear sign of him being absolutely pleased and content.

You smiled, his good mood infectious, and as you glanced to the two dolls that sat together like a matching pair, stripped of their clothes and as close together as you and the real demon were now under the sheets, it made you feel like the cat that ate the canary. The cat had been fed by Alastor, sure. But he had also had his fill and then some, and really... that was all that mattered to you.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #quickfic #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #magical fucking

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year

Note

My sucess story

Trigger Warning: Abusive, homophobia, mentions of suicide

Hey there, Maya! I just had to take a moment and express my appreciation for all the fantastic posts you put out. I can now confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that shifting is real, manifesting is real, and so is the void. Our desires and ambitions aren't in vain.

I've been part of the shifting community since 2020 when it exploded on TikTok. It might not matter much, but as a gay man, I rarely saw other guys in the community (though Reddit and Amino have a more diverse crowd). I've always felt more comfortable in women-centric spaces because they tend to be less judgmental.

I never saw success stories from guys, especially the kind I wanted to see - like waking up in a new world, not just manifesting money or a girlfriend (or boyfriend in my case >.<). I've always been spiritual and interested in witchcraft, voodoo, deities, and now manifesting and shifting. But it felt like nothing would let me shift.

Growing up with homophobic and physically abusive parents, struggling with poverty, depression, homelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and more, I began to feel like you could only manifest and shift if your life was okay. I didn't have the luxury of time or safety to practice methods, constantly dealing with noise, verbal abuse, or physical violence.

Then, I read this post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/14v4lw3/how_to_shift_the_next_time_you_go_to_sleep/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

It led me to your Tumblr because OP used some of your old posts and talked about the concept of the void. All searched lead to tumblr. A couple of months ago (2.5 ish) after one of the worst days of my life, I went to bed sobbing, trying to block out the noise around me, praying and crying for anything - death, shifting, a new identity...

Everything around me started to fade - it was as if I was being engulfed by a white, serene blanket of nothingness. It was completely silent, and I couldn't see or feel anything. The only thing that seemed to persist was my awareness.

Now, I've read about the void before, but mostly in the context of it being a black, empty space. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I experienced was indeed the void or something altogether different. The concept still baffles me a bit, but I'm learning and growing through these experiences.

Regardless of where I was, my heart was set on reaching my dr.I kept praying and hoping, to wake up in my DR.

I woke up in my Twitch streamer DR! I found myself in a completely unfamiliar yet perfect place. My room was equipped with a high-end PC, top-notch gaming gear, and quaint decor items. Milo, my dog, was there too. I was sharing a mansion in LA with my boyfriend and four other streamers. The house was beyond my imagination, and streaming here was a dream come true. As night fell, my friends and I explored the vibrant LA nightlife, creating lasting memories.

After a week, i can’t lie I almost forgot I had shifted here. Then, I set an intention to shift back into this reality but where I had moved out, lived with my best friend and their supportive parents, mastered shifting and manifesting, had my desired looks, and money came easily to me. And it worked!

Since then, I've been living my best boujee gay life, and I shift all the time. I even created a waiting room where I'm immortal and use it whenever I need a break. I wish I could offer better advice, but like everyone says, there isn't a key to shifting. It's different for everyone. But you can and will shift. You can manifest your dream life. You can and deserve to be happy

Oh my god, I'm so happy for you, love 💕💕. I also completely related to what you felt. I know it can seem like your circumstances are holding you back, but believe me when I say this - that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's that same resilience, and your ability to persist despite the odds, that paved the way to your dream life. There’s nothing, I mean nothing that can stop you. Not wavering, crying, or doubt. Nothing. If you want it, it’s yours.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #reality shifting #shiftblr #void success

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theia-mania-comics · 1 year

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Queen of the Dead 171

I have used pieces from several different ancient binding-curses for Hekate's curse.

"Voodoo dolls", or kolossoi, were already thriving in the early archaic period, prior to the development of binding-curse tablets, to which they were closely related in use and deposition, at the end of it. Indeed they had no doubt been in use before literacy returned to Greece. [...] Dolls were made of a wide range of materials: lead, bronze and clay ones survive, in addition to these, wax, wool, and dough ones are mentioned in the literary sources."

Magic, Witchcraft, and Ghosts in the Greek and Roman Worlds by Daniel Ogden

#queen of the dead #demeter #hekate

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uncannyoceanz · 6 months

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day 6.draw one of the Crp clowns/jesters! + Headcanons! (Candy Pop)

He is 7’2

Loves eating candy.

Will have psychotic sugar rushes sometimes and then pass tf out.

Yk he has that man spread ass sit bro💀💀

Honestly really childish

Long ass tongue…

Ayo what can that tongue do 🤨😏

Def likes Jason in that way.

Bisexual…AND BIPOLAR!!!!

ADHD.

Likes to annoy, scare, and piss people off for fun.

Careless, reckless, ruthless and sadistic.

Masochist?

Prankster + jokester

Kind of narcissistic / over confident.

Kinda hard to offend/anger.

Doesn’t like people seeing him in his night terror form.

100% horny 80% of the time.

He doesn’t really care about gender. If he can fuck he will fuck.

Whore. absolute fucking slut. Cock slut. Loves pussy. Loves cock. Sluttiest thot in this motherfucking bitch. Cunty thotty slutty whore.💀💀💀💀💀 (I can’t take myself seriously bro)

Doesn’t wear make-up. That’s legit js his face.

Sharp ahh teeth like boy-

Waaaaayyyyy too over protective of his sister, Candy Cane.

One of the best bff’s you could ever have, Nathan is Lucky.

Ofc his bestie is Nathan, it’s literally Canon!!!!<3

Kinda gets jealous easily? Mostly when he doesn’t get attention or gets attention absolutely stolen from him.

Loves to be the center of attention

He uses black magic, dark magic, demonic magic, voodoo, witchcraft, whatever cursed/dark magic you can think of, he does it or has done it.

List of things he loves: #3. Jason. #2. His sister. #1. His hair!!!!

He loves his hair more than anything, a bitch even think about touching his hair he will backhand them so motherfucking hard they forget how to speak.

He doesn’t really like judge angels. Why? Because most things related to a fucking angel, he hates. He has never really met her though so….He just always judges a book by its cover honestly.

Him and LJ fight a lot, but they can get along together sometimes.

His father figure? Oh hell yeah, y’all know it’s Papa Grande. Fuck slenderman, ain’t nobody like that old bitch.

Upside down crosses everywhere. <3

He likes bright colors.

Jason will have this man in a corset sometimes like holy shit???!

He’s a mini fashionista and also Jason’s model/inspiration sometimes.

Coming in contact (touch) with some holy objects or angels will cause him 3rd degree burns😘🩷 and he just doesn’t really like holy water, but it won’t burn him.

Bibles and some holy shit makes him weaker, but in a more painful way. Which usually makes this man screech in pain<3333 I’m such a sadist 🥰😇

He doesn’t like angels or people in most religions

He likes to play dress up/other games with sally, sometimes LJ and Jason will join too!

Whenever playing Alice in wonderland with Sally, he’s the Cheshire Cat.

He’s a top obvi!!!

he can enter and exit through mirrors as he pleases.

He can teleport

He/They/it

Likes to hang around the pasta kids because they lure in unsuspecting worried adults (aka free prey for Candy ;))

Candy, Pop, Poppy, Night, Poppyseed, C.pop, whore, Hatsune Miku, Raspberry fairy demon, Hatsune Miku demon jester, fairy princess jester demon, Slut, bestie, clown, raspberry, creepy blue clown bitch, night terror, night terrors, cluster demon, the collector, emperor of the dark, dark emperor, the dark omen, demon from the abyss, abyss demon.

He can steal other people’s powers, supernatural strength and speed, he can jump high, adapt to his environment quickly, really good sharp senses, enhanced visuality, and can phase through walls (ghosting)

Manipulation, teleportation, dark architect, power gifting, mind control, mastermind, nightmare manipulation, shapeshifting, magic (mentioned b4), levitation, invisibility, soul absorption

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polkadotjohnson · 1 month

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☠️ Dastdeaths (spoilers) ⚰️

5. Shortcake (2012) - Mark (voodoo/witchcraft)

...Can't tell if The Baker puts some of him in the cake too, so it probably doesn't also count as cannibalism.

6. Mermaid (2012) - ??? (probably Mark again, as in... EVE's mark hahaha) (uhh... dragged to Atlantis? Down where it's wetter??)

Or... who knows, maybe she turns him into a Triton? Wait, no, that is from Galaktikon. Merman? This one is kinda inconclusive too tbh, I'm just including it because he vanishes at the end.

7. Cora (2013) - Vincent (stake through the heart)

Nothing a little blood and some Latin chanting can't fix 😡

8. Prisoners (2013) - Bob Taylor (self-inflicted gunshot)

I just realized he says "There's no time. It's okay." 😭😭😭 I want to destroy Loki.

Special mention: After Thought (2013) - Brandon Ames (???)

He's dead and alive. I don't know. This film is a bigger mystery than... Johnson.

#david dastmalchian #dastdeaths #shortcake #mermaid #cora #prisoners #after thought #spoilers #loki and cora ur top on my shitlist

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oscconfessions · 3 months

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Has anyone dabbled in the concept of object voodoo dolls . Lik e how would that work,, like what if someone tried making a doll of a glass object and they just . Shatter it

I don't know what I'm talking bout but I thivk this could be rlly cool plot concept someone should do (bats eyelashes)

The concept you have is a rather whitewashed interpretation! I think the thing you are looking for is a Poppet (even then, do plenty of research for the character you are trying to create).

PLEASE be careful and take caution in using this concept. Either that or dont use it at all. I am white however so I can't speak for POC. Though I will mention I got most if not all of my information from my friends who are POC.

Those in the comments who harass this anon will be have their comments deleted. I trust anon isn't meaning to be racist. I think they are just misinformed. So Anon, I know you mean well!!

For more information on voodoo and its history, please read below. This was written by my friend who is a POC and actually educated me on the concept as well!!

"voodoo dolls have no link to actual voodoo/vodou, and the origins of this link to the demonization of afro-caribbean spiritual practices, which voodoo/vodou is! past popular media has incorrectly connected this religion to a practice that actually has european witchcraft origin."

-🗄️

#not a confession #racism cw

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 3 months

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s2 episode 15 thoughts

i'm back! i was got halfway through the episode yesterday when a storm knocked the power and the internet off so i was sadly unable to finish the ep OR post my thoughts :( but i finished it now!!!

so this episode was about "voodoo" and you have maybe been able to tell from my previous posts, but i love studying religions and belief systems. so honestly i was pretty frightened this episode was going to be all "ahhh look how scary this belief we don't understand is!" and like. haitian vodou has been one of THE biggest victims of this line of thinking. so i was pleased that the real villain of the episode was a white man abusing his power.

and yes, they did make vodou seem ~spooky~ but: i'm pleased the bad guy was a real bad dude and not a caricature of what americans think a scary evil priest would look like.

so let's jump in!

we start the episode with hearing a baby crying. which is never a good way to begin, as far as i am concerned. just not for me.

it's a wife and a husband and this husband seems evil. he snaps at his wife and from his first line i was torn between "this man is genuinely an abusive monster" or "this man is being brainwashed" and thankfully it was the brainwashing route

he screams at his wife and child until the both cry and then he sees his breakfast turn to worms.

worms for breakfast... might sound wild to you, but for a bird, that's just an ordinary day.

he then gets in his car and crashes into a tree and we see some sort of sign on the tree he crashes into....... and this is the SECOND fellow that has died working at this refugee camp....

roadtrip with our agents to north carolina!!!!

(i made a post when i was like halfway through s1 about all the roadtrips these 2 go on and how they allowed them to get to know each other, and a few people were like "um they take planes?", but my POINT ON THE BONDING STANDS and also here is evidence of a REAL road trip)

they step out and both of their trench coats are billowing in the wind. a beautiful sight.

we're learning about what has been going on at this refugee camp they are visiting, where the soldiers have been dropping like flies... they mention that there was a riot recently, and a little boy killed, and i'm thinking, maybe that kind of trauma can lead a person to crash a car or harm themselves? i realize i sound like scully as i type that!!! a real skeptic!!! but it seems plausible.

they visit the home of the new widow and she's like "well that symbol on the tree was ALSO there when the first guy died... and get this... it was on this shell my baby found!" which led to my (joking) theory that it was the baby that was doing the killing... baby witchcraft is likely super effective, compounded by their innocence to create a super critical hit... alas, this theory had no backing

but evil babies aside, she's really freaked out because her late husband's friend grew up in new orleans and says that this is the type of voodoo he saw down there, so... interesting

they go into the refugee camp to ask around, and someone grabs scully, when a boy intervenes and tells the dude who grabbed her to get lost in french and i was SO proud because i knew what he was saying... like yeah i guess my duolingo IS paying off...

(all he said was "vas-tu" but hey! i was still proud)

the child then tries to smooth talk them into buying a good luck charm and mulder buys it which had me LAUGHING... like truly he sees a child and he will support them financially.

(i thought perhaps that the good luck charm would open up and be the symbol we earlier associated with destruction and make them a target but i was wrong!!! it just was a genuine ward against evil. thank u little boy named chester)

one of the military men says that "voodoo caused a riot" and as far as riot causes go i think that is not in the top 10 most common... i'm willing to guess that perhaps it is the awful treatment people in a refugee camp receive... but sure. blame a belief system! (/s)

scully goes to look at the body of the first man that died and JUMPSCARE! his body has been replaced in the morgue with some kind of dog? it looked like a hyena to me, which raised the question: where do you source a hyena in north carolina? no answers were provided

our agents visit the man who is blamed for starting the riot- who is named bauvais, what a wonderful name that is- and he says that the symbol they found was that of the loco-miroir, a crossroads between two worlds that shows the true self. so i'm thinking, perhaps if that is the case, these men that died were being tormented because of the awful things they did to the refugees?

he also describes the dog creature in the morgue as "a warning" which hm. i mean. could be.

scully is doing some driving now, which i noted because it was unusual, and she almost hits someone! (is this why she doesn't normally drive?)

i jest, of course, because who is in the road but... the dude who we earlier saw crash into a tree? the dude whose wife and baby we visited who were mourning his loss? this man? so... he isn't dead?? this part of my notes had many question marks

i guess i assumed that they... you know... had triple checked that he was really dead...

they check his blood and there is some poison in there that scully says is in pufferfish, which are eaten in japan, and i'm like queen i love you so bad, i love that you can look at a chemical and know what fish it comes from, and where in the world they eat that fish....... truly my most beloved

it appears that this man who is newly back from the dead/never dead at all was in a zombie-like state. and mulder is going on about how there are rumors of haitian zombies- which i had heard before, but don't recall anything about- and he is basically being a Nerd

(they're both nerds. i love people who know random Stuff. it's actually a one-way ticket to my heart. no lie!)

((but as for the accuracy of their belief system, i have a feeling it is truly more complex than just the western notion of zombies- i never got to dive into african and diaspora religions in class, so fact-checking this episode is an excellent excuse for me to jump down a rabbit hole))

okay so new proposed theory: take the pufferfish poison... fake a death... but why?

they visit the graveyard to go and find the body of the first man who passed away- but a fellow who watches the graveyard notes that the body snatchers got there first. THE BODY SNATCHERS? did we skip a few centuries back? he says "the voodoo types are buying" which. um. okay.

he ends this by calling the theft of remains "uncool" and for sure. i'd have to agree with that assessment.

but in the distance we see the little boy from earlier- chester- digging about! could HE be the body snatcher? well, mulder is gonna find out!

they chase him down only to find he has a bag of a ton of frogs LMAOOO they had to get those paid frog actors from the last episode in again somehow

so they bring this child- who i think has sadly lost all of his frogs at this point- back to get some food, and this is where i lost all power and was forced to wait a whole day to learned what happened next!

but i picked up here today. this episode was giving me flashbacks to the episode eve from s1. because these two are gonna find a youth and get them a meal. and i appreciate that about them.

anyway, he says he just sneaks out and back into the camp somehow. chester says he sells frogs to bauvais. we love a little guy who is always hustling.

he ate all of his food and mulder gives him more money to go get some more and it is soooo funny to me how mulder interacts with children. it's actually deeply sweet. he is gonna make some random kid on his case smile no matter what.

(oh man. this is the type of guy who is gonna be all "come on, sport, let's go toss the ball around", huh? if he weren't too busy going about chasing aliens and almost dying, i'd say that man would make a decent father)

scully's still in logic mode, saying maybe it was the frogs who made the poison. and yeah, some frogs do in fact make poison, but i'm not sure if north carolina is where you're gonna find em. but i guess there are evil creatures in the south like pythons and black widows so we can't rule it out?

mulder leaves scully in charge of watching chester while he go sees who has been following him. a very perceptive guy. sometimes.

oh!!! it's a fellow we've seen before!! he's a private, and he was friends with the deceased, and he was the one who told the now widow about the voodoo rituals he grew up with. and he refuses to talk with chester around so they have him wait in the car

now, we have dealt with evil children on this show before, but this little dude is not giving evil vibes to me. i find him endearing. which perhaps is what the writers WANT me to think... but no. turns out he was just a nice little dude lmao.

so the private who grew up in louisiana and is now stalking the agents explains that bauvais promised the colonel who is watching over the camp that his men would drop one by one unless they are returned to haiti. he also mentioned that colonel increased "the beatings"

HUH????? he increased them? as in there were some going on before, and now there are more????

scully asks why no one has filed a complaint, and he says "none of us feel good about it, ma'am, but we don't join the marines to feel good" okay but that isn't an answer... like you know that isn't an answer... right??

he's going on about a woman back home dying before her wedding night and the doctors finding snakes in her stomach and scully is like well that sounds fake as hell. and he counters with NUH-UH IT WAS MY FIANCE. ooooh scully was gagged. like what do you even say to that. (zuko voice) "that's rough, buddy"

NOOOO chester broke free from the car.... this is always a risk when leaving children to their own devices. it does make him seem more suspicious, and i was ROOTING for him!!! mulder chases him down because remember, mulder is a track star

and then i think, is this the scene where he sees a cat that has crossed my dash before? yes, it is! a meowing is heard as soon as i wrote those words in my notes. so my hypothesis is that the boy turned into the cat. because he said he gets in and out of the camp as he pleases! and what creature could do that with greater ease than a cat?

(by the end of this episode, my theory is challenged. but it's still nice to imagine)

the colonel is being a man baby... who is shocked? it sure isn't me!!! he's furious to hear about the body being gone, and says "what kind of barbaric religion would desecrate a grave?" to which i gesture vaguely to all cases of a body being moved after being buried, which we usually understand as the work of individuals and not place the blame on entire belief systems... but i got the subtext. he's a bigot.

scully asks him about the beating allegations and he says no way, if anyone is being beaten its actually my men. and then they leave him to eat his breakfast. they clearly do not believe what he had to say

at this point i had flashbacks to the first breakfast scene we saw, and thought that it was going to turn into bugs- but it didn't! instead his food started BLEEDING. gross

so they're going back in the car to go to the motel and scully turns the key and something cuts her hand?!? it looked at first like barbed wire, but then we see it's some kind of thorny branch. conspicuously placed in their vehicle!

"let me see that", says mulder, to whom she replies "oh it's nothing", and he looks visibly annoyed at not being allowed to investigate her little hand cut. let him doctor you sometimes, scully, he needs to feel useful. also you're gonna get blood on the wheel!!!!

at this point i'm freaking out, because what kind of plant was that?! what if it's poison? what if it's the poison that is also in pufferfish and frogs and makes you see stuff?

they speed off and we see... their car had the mark beneath it!!! the mark from earlier which is associated with destruction!!!!!!

cutscene to the colonel beating bauvais. no one is shocked. but it is still a sad sight. he's asking him how he does the magic.

mulder opens the door to his room and a ten of diamonds falls out. he seems to know what this means, even though i do not, and goes to route 10, where he meets...?

DEEP THROAT 2.0?? in north carolina??? mulder says he thought their last meeting would have been their final- remember, when he told mulder to stop chasing down the people involved with scully's kidnapping, and then shot a guy right in front of him, then came back to say the bad guys were gonna search his house- remember that? seemed pretty final to me as well. but clearly not

he says that their search is faltering, and that in 24 hours everyone but the military will be denied access to the camp. mulder is pissed, and is asking why the refugees are being held up, and why are they being beaten, and he says that "those people are innocent civilians, some people in congress might have a problem with that". deep throat 2.0 points out that by the time congress makes an investigation committee, their tracks will be covered, which rings true. but damn, mulder believing- or wanting to believe- that the government will helps people says so much about his character.

so basically deep throat 2.0 shows up to antagonize him for not being on the right track and then leaves. much like deep throat 1.0.

we see scully back at the motel, and her hand is covered in spots and blood, and i wrote a "NOOOOOOO" in my notes because i was distressed!!!!

she knocks on what she thinks is mulder's door- it's door 7, i thought he was in 10?- and the door is unlocked, so she just walks in. but she hears water running, like a shower/bath, so she just talks to mulder through the door LMAOOOO i thought that was so sweet. very married behavior. talking to the husband (platonic or romantic or a secret third thing) while he showers. the private they spoke to went AWOL! isn't that interesting, mulder?

mulder...? there's bloody water pouring in beneath the door?

she busts it open, probably thinking the worst, and it's the louisiana private from before laying dead in the bathtub while water runs. which is definitely not a great thing, but at least it wasn't mulder dying in there. who, conveniently, makes an entrance, holding our first zombie man at gunpoint!!! and zombie man was holding a dagger!!! things are not looking good for him!!!

they take him in for questioning but honestly i was still worried about her hand at this point. like is anyone gonna tend to it.

we learn that... BAUVAIS IS DEAD? allegedly at his own hand. but given that we saw the colonel beating him... let's just say i do not believe it

scully's grasping her forehead, and mulder is asking what's wrong, and she's saying "i'm fine, it's just a headache", and here i made a note to psychoanalyze the fact that the doctor is unwilling to doctor herself. and i WILL have lots to say on that at a later date.

so the newly-dead-in-the-bathtub private gave his friend's wife something to give to the agents if anything happened to him. and they open it up, and it's a photo of the colonel WITH bauvais. so clearly they knew each other. but how? it really isn't answered tbh

they sneak into his office. nice. and they find CHICKEN FEET in his drawers, on top of papers from the dead privates, who had filed complaints against him. so they DID try to make things right and not just blindly follow orders like the one dude implied!

and then mulder opens a chest, and he holds up some dog tags...

but freeze! a soldier tries to stop them. he only gives up when they show that the dog tags belong to the dead privates, and that the BONES of the very first man are sitting in the chest. BONES??? i did not see that one coming. he KEPT THEM??? and he tried to play it off like someone else did it??? oh colonel you are a sick and twisted individual

and now the colonel is back at bauvais' grave, digging it up, chanting haitian creole and holding a knife. um. not great.

the agents roll up to the scene and scully is hiding her face. "what is it, scully?" he asks; she deflects with an "i'm alright". he astutely responds with a "you don't look alright", at which point i am cheering because YEAHHHH WHUMP NATION. HERE WE ARE!!!! MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!

(i mean, it's bad timing, with a wild colonel they need to go catch, but still. when you get a trope you like, you hold it dear. she tells him to go get the colonel and she'll stay in the car)

i thought that perhaps she was hiding her face because she was seeing things, and then she starts... coughing up blood?? and i'm horrified and wondering if this is real or another trick of the poison, and then her hand starts pouring water and a whole dude comes out of it, at which case i realize we are in hallucination town

and back in the graveyard, the colonel is speaking creole in a demon voice, and he moves his hand and mulder is like... stabbed?? or something??? maybe not with a knife but like psychically? he's down for the count

back to scully cam, the man who had emerged from her hand is speaking in a demon creole as well, so she grabs the good luck charm from chester and BAM! everything clears. shoutout to chester for being a real one. i noted that i knew he was a cat, and just as i typed that, a black kitty showed up on top of the car!!!!!!!!

so, now free from the clutches of evil, she runs out to get mulder, who has been lying in the graveyard.

and the FIRST THING this man says is "you're okay?"

AHHHHHH (inconsolable screaming for a really long time)

mulder, who was laying in a graveyard face down with either a real or a psychic stab wound, and after having witnessed some demon fuckery- immediately his mind goes to making sure that she was okay. oh that terrible, terrible need to protect kicking in, as natural and as undeniable to him as breathing. these two are so intertwined it's sickening. aughhhh i am tearing up typing this. what have they turned me into....

so it appears colonel wharton has been killed by the spirit of bauvais, at least according to what the viewer sees and also mulder's report, so cosmic revenge has been served. scully didn't see all this go down, however, so she just sees him in his coffin and is like ???? but again mulder was face down in the dirt so. she's probably thinking, well, who knows what actually happened

but, direct action worked: the refugees are now being repatriated! the agents ask to see the list of people who are returning and are confused because chester isn't on there. and the soldier says, oh right, that poor boy, he died in the riot a while back

HUH??????? he wasn't really there the whole time? he was a benevolent spirit who ate the french fries they bought him and maybe appeared as a cat???

i love that for him. and i'm also deeply sad to learn that he was dead the whole time. but i'm happy that he is getting to spend the afterlife hustling people and digging for frogs.

(of course, that is, if you believe the mulder sort of theory..... now, if you're scully, you're probably thinking, huh, weird that little boy lied about his name... but then again, after her paranormal nurse experience, i'm not sure she's entirely convinced that positive spirits aren't out and about. there has to be a tiiiiny part of her that holds out hope, even if it's scary)

so, the episode ends with the guy who earlier proclaimed body snatching uncool burying the colonel. and we see that- surprise- he wasn't actually dead! he was somehow also put into a zombie-like state, and is screaming as he is buried alive. ah, justice has been delivered.

overall, i liked this episode! the approach towards handling haitian vodou could definitely have been better and less exoticised, but frankly i was expecting a lot worse. i thought it was an interesting premise, i liked little chester, and there are some ambiguities- like, how did the colonel know bauvais? what put them in the zombie state? was it poison from the thorns that caused the hallucinations? if so, why would the good luck charm clear it? but they were ambiguous enough to just leave me feeling curious, rather than entirely stumped like the last episode did. because i'm still trying to put the pieces in place with that one. i was really thinking it over in the shower today.

anyway, loved their interactions this episode- loved worried mulder, loved trying to play it cool and strong scully, loved her thinking it was his room and waltzing in and reporting while he showered, loved freshly stabbed man asking if she was okay, loved mulder meeting another child and saying i'm gonna make this kid smile, loved him looking pissed when she wouldn't show him the cut on her hand, loved a corrupt military official being buried alive. a lot to enjoy here.

#felt good to be reunited with the blorbos after our forced separation #i want to watch another episode but it takes me longer to type up the notes than it does to watch so not enough time tonight #(pounding on the table) let him play doctor sometimes he needs to feel useful #yes i know you don't want him to “protect” you scully but a leopard cannot change its spots. that man is gonna do what he does.#and i am going to jump into a rabbit hole of research on haitian vodou now to see what it got right and wrong #maybe i can try and find some resources in french to practice! but like baby french. i'm not that good after all.#juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

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