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tasteracha · 22 days

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the storm.

a/n: happy (early) birthday to my shining star xian @forlix i love you so much i ache with it. i love this universe you've created and i love your characters and your beautiful, beautiful mc that i'm so happy you've let me play with.

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, pretty tame for me tbh! many big emotions. wc 2.7k. hurt/comfort sex between two people who love each other.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader, she/her!reader, based off of xian's lovely crying lightning (you can read this as a stand alone but why would you? xian's fic is phenomenal. please read it.)

as beautiful and wonderful and kind and patient hyunjin is, it’s hard to forget sometimes that his general presence is still exceptionally infuriating sometimes. the days of your loneliness, before the two of you had finally come together into one woven cord instead of two strings dancing alongside one another, were all but a distant memory. overriding that was the smell of his skin in the morning, the glint in his eye when he catches yours across the cameras and fans, the warm weight of his hand steady on the small of your back, protective and possessive. all you knew now was the cracking of lightning across a stormy sky, raindrops hitting your face in a welcome intrusion to your mundane day to day.

the all expanse of the storm did its job well of making you forget that sometimes the raindrops were irritating, too.

they came in the form of him opening one eye slowly as you tried to swipe shadow across his lid, upsetting your plan and making you double back once you’ve scolded him; the air moving around you as he walks away from you after teasing you one too many times; the sound of his laugh when he’s behind the camera of someone, making eyes at the lens that should have been reserved for you only. each one was a piercing cold drop of water to your face, piercing as they fall and sliding down to form a puddle at your feet.

it didn’t escape your notice that you weren’t upset at him, really; it wasn’t his fault that you were spiteful. even thinking the word makes you shiver in disgust - this isn’t you. you had never been one to let your feelings affect your actions, you selfishly prided yourself in your ability to compartmentalize, but he had this hold on you that made you experience things you never thought were possible.

he, of course, finds the entire show encompassingly amusing. you could see the mirth in his eyes from across the room when he meets yours, recognize your own expression in them like a mirror and it made your scowl deepen in it’s permanence. you almost wish for the time when he didn’t know of your affection for him; the surety in his step when he makes you frown is maddening, overshadowed by the smugness he holds in knowing he could make you smile with greater ease. let it be known that you didn’t lack in confidence - your spine is stood high, head held with authority and feet planted firmly on the floor. envy wasn’t something that ever crawled up your legs like ivy over an ancient grecian statue. jealousy, even, seemed too harsh a sentence for your current charge. to put it simply, you were annoyed.

he knows this, of course. he knows you, inside and out, and on your best days it’s a rare gift that you treasure, hidden away in the deepest corners of the closet that is your heart. on your worst days it’s utterly terrifying, the feeling of being laid out to shrivel in the sun with no chance of respite. and wasn’t it ironic that the one thing that made you feel this way was the one that cured you too?

it’s with an embarrassing amount of pleasure that you remind yourself that you are the one he goes home with, at the end of the day. you’re cleaning up your station and you hear his laugh in the background, not directed at you but ringing like sweet bells nonetheless. every brush that returns home into your kit, every lip product that gets swiped into a bag, every charcoal pencil is the ticking of time that needs to pass before he is yours again. simply yours, not belonging to the cameras or the managers or the staff whose stare linger on him for longer than they should be allowed to.

you knew where your talents were - in your art, your ability to read people, your creativity and your drive for perfection. these uncharted waters were not in your skillset, but as hyunjin stalks across the room to reunite with you after what seemed like hours, you took a moment to be grateful that it seemed to be in his. putting yourself in someone else’s hands, feeling the level of trust that you had for him, sent a tingle up your spine, but if anyone was going to take care of you it was him; the thought soothes you like a balm, not enough to be permanent but enough to get you by for now.

“missed me that much?” he crowds into your space to press a light kiss to your hairline, expertly moving his body so that no one could see. “i’ve only been shooting for an hour.”

“keep talking and you’ll get shot,” you mutter, ignoring the heat that rises up to your cheeks as you turn from him to gather your things, aching to be home and in his arms and away from prying stares. his heat is still pressed up against your back, standing as close as he could while still letting you move freely. as much as you want to drag him into some secluded hallway and refamiliarise yourself with the taste of his skin, you had to pull out your endless supply of restraint. getting caught with your hand down his pants in a building that you frequented often was not an outcome that you wished to experience, at least not today.

his hand is warm on the small of your back as he walks you out a series of doors and stairs to the parking garage, the sound of your shoes bouncing off of the walls a bit jarring.

“you looked nice today,” you tell him, honest, as he slides into the passenger seat of your car. the worn seats smell like his cologne and his old bracelet hangs from the rearview mirror - god, even your car was reminding you of how much of your life he encompassed - not that you were complaining about that.

“that was all you,” pride drips from his voice and you catch his soft gaze when you turn to look behind you so you could back out of your parking spot.

“i may have helped, but it’s still your face,” you counter, hand busy on the gear shift, as eager as your heart was to finally get home.

“if i didn’t know you, i would have thought you were obsessed with me,” he says, the biting tease dripping off his tongue like citrus. “with the way you were staring at me, back there.”

“i’ll make you walk home,” you tighten your grip on the steering wheel despite the threat being empty. he knows which threads to tug on without unraveling you, playing you with his words like it was muscle memory.

“you’d make me walk?” he gasps theatrically, pressing his palm to his chest and fluttering his eyes at you. “what if i get kidnapped, or mugged? how would you live with yourself?”

“you’re an idiot,” you deadpan, cursing the betraying fondness that rises up in you.

“your idiot,” he grins stupidly, settling his hand on your thigh as he watches the streetlights shine across your face as you drive. his touch is scalding, long fingers pressing into your very nerves and leaving them flayed out.

“yeah, remember that,” you retort, and you hope he thinks you mean the idiot part.

the remainder of the short drive home was spent in comfortable silence, hyunjin tapping away on his phone with his free hand as you speeded down the freeway. when you park you let out a sigh and your keys jangle in melancholy along with you when you take them out of the ignition. hyunjin presses his fingers into your thigh in a final squeeze before he exits the car, long legs carrying him over to your door before you could blink to open it for you.

walking up the stairs to your third story apartment never felt more relaxing, the breath they stole from you a necessary tax to pay to enter the comfort of your own walls.

you pull him to the bedroom as soon as you walk through the front door, dropping your things in the foyer with as much care as you could muster.

it takes you a couple of seconds to push him to sit up against the headboard, a couple more for him to complain about it, and less than that for you to climb into his lap and press a searing kiss to his lips.

he opens himself to you, open mouth curved into a smile as you lick into it. you taste the coffee you had made for him this morning, the croissant he had eaten during a break, the gloss that you had carefully dabbed across his plush lips.

you want him, no one else could have him. how could you feel this much possessiveness over someone you already hold as yours?

his hands circle your waist and his thumbs press into your skin, holding you against him even as you pull away from him. his lips are left glistening red and he looks up at you with a kind of reverence that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.

“slow, angel,” he moves his thumbs in slow circles. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“hyune,” you gasp, going lax against him. you’re far too drained to pretend that your entire body didn’t ache for him. “need you.”

“i know,” he shushes you, trailing his fingers up and down your spine. he loves to tease but he’d never do so at your expense; he must sense that your emotional turmoil is bubbling into the direction of a vortex. “you have me. take what you need, baby.”

the reminder that he was yours, though wholly unneeded, sounds so sweet to your ears. your fingers slide up his chest, twisting into the button at his collar and popping it open with practiced ease. you peel the panels of material off of him to expose his sun-kissed skin, abdominal muscles tensing with how he’s holding back from jerking up into your lap.

“what does my baby want, hmm?” he says, voice catching when your hands slide over his chest and brush over his nipples. he groans when you roll one between your fingers and the sound of it makes your heart soar.

“i want you to shut up and take your pants off,” you back off of him to rid yourself of your own clothes, folding them into a neat little pile at the foot of the bed. he shows no such care for his own, kicking off his pants and boxers throwing them along with his shirt across the room. his hungry eyes stay on you the whole time, shining with excitement as if it was the first time he was witnessing you undress.

you climb back over him as fast as humanly possible, the feeling of his bare skin against yours like an eternal gift. you grind down against him, his rapidly hardening cock sliding between your folds and his head catching against your clit. you’re wet, of course you are; you have been since his hand was on your thigh on the car ride home you moan and duck your head, a little embarrassed by how affected you are by such a simple motion.

he braces himself on his elbow as other hand moves to your hairline, brushing a few strands back behind your ear on it’s path towards cupping the back of your neck. he moves closer, lips so close to yours that you can almost taste them again, but before they meet you’re feeling the earth’s weight shift and your own balance break.

“i want to take care of you,” he explains when you look up at him in a daze, dizzy from how quickly he had flipped you underneath him. “let me?”

“i thought i told you to shut up,” you were breathless but the permission still rang true under your words. you’d let him do whatever he wanted, how could you deny such a sweet request?

he grins something wicked as one of his hands slides down your chest towards your lower belly. his fingers part your folds easily and you feel so exposed even though he wasn’t looking. he decidedly keeps his mouth shut even as whines begin to spill from your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as a familiar burning sensation starts to take over your body.

he alternates between rubbing gentle circles into your clit and teasing his fingers at your entrance, so close to dipping inside but not quite. he ducks his head to mouth at your neck, sucking a constellation of marks into your skin until you’re panting into his hair and shaking apart in your orgasm.

he gives you a moment to recover, waiting patiently until you open your eyes to see his fond smile aimed at you.

“what’s that look for?” the snark is completely absent in your voice post-orgasm, and it almost comes out dreamy.

“i can’t even look at you now?” he breaks his unspoken vow of silence to ask. “i can’t help myself. i have the most gorgeous person walking this earth underneath me, looking at you is the tamest thing i can do to you.”

the blood returns to your cheeks as you take in his words. you don’t respond because you didn’t know how; what could you even say to that? he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves impossibly closer to you, leaning a bit of his weight against you. it’s not too much, just enough that you could feel his chest moving with his breaths. he lines his cock up to your entrance, his hips flush against yours as he slowly pushes in.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding when he enters you fully, every inch settling your frustration as it flows out of you along with the air in your lungs. this feeling was worth all of it, the early mornings and the onlookers and the sharing of him when all you wanted to do was lock him away for you and you alone.

he loves you. he was so in love with you that it poured out of his very being, in his gentle touch and the slide of his lips against yours and the slide of his cock against your walls. each drag of his hips sends burning pleasure up your spine, licking flames against your vertebrae until you can’t move.

you’re so drunk on him that you lose track of time, all of your senses falling away until hyunjin is the only thing you can feel, see, touch. you lose your words, unintelligible syllables trying to shape his name falling from your lips, pressed against the skin of his neck and floating to his ears in a sweet symphony.

it isn’t long before you’re falling apart underneath him, electricity crackling between you as fucks you through your orgasm. he gathers you in his arms as he tumbles over the edge after you, folding himself over you so he can kiss you, and you don’t realize that you were crying until his cheeks come back glistening with salty water.

“god, i love you,” and to this day it still feels like a heavy declaration, the words never diminishing their weight despite the number of times they’ve fallen off of his tongue. “you are everything to me.”

“hyunjin,” is all you can say, but you know he reads between the curved letters of his name. i love you too, you mean the world to me, what would i be without you.

he cares for you like the cracked piece of porcelain that you are, light fingertips tracing along the tear tracks on your cheeks that move to turn you on your side so you could smush yourself into his chest. your hand rests right above his heart, and if you looked close enough you could see the static sparks of electricity that connect the two of you together.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #straykidsland #stray kids imagines #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you

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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 days

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separate lines

words: 600 (+ three images)

warnings: entire fic is through phone calls/text messages, parental death (ward), established relationship, kinda protective rafe but its cute he just misses his girl, includes pictures of "readers" face/body, kind of illusions to sex (like barely!), overall pretty fluffy

“rafey!” you squeal as you answer your phone seconds after it rings. “how's it going?”

“well, everything is still standing.” rafe huffs out. you can practically hear the stress in his voice.

“that's good, baby. i miss you a lot.” sure, he just left this morning to drive back to the outer banks, but that doesn't change the fact that you miss him anytime he's away from you.

“god, i miss you too. if rose didn't need me here id still be-

“i know.” you cut rafe off. “you're back for three days with your family. it'll be fine and then we will be back together.”

you know being back in the outer banks is stressful for rafe after everything that happened. the mess with barry, the pogues, and then all culminating in his dad dying. when you decided to go a couple hours away to college, you still thought you'd have to persuade your boyfriend to come with you, to leave the only life he's ever known, but he jumped at the chance.

you live in a luxury townhouse right near downtown. you're even able to walk to most of your classes, of course with rafe by your side.

“you're right.” rafe hums. “we are figuring out the will stuff tomorrow morning.”

“i wish i could be there for you. text or call if you need anything.” you have classes tomorrow, but you'd drop anything if rafe really needed you.

“yeah just… text me updates, please? even if you just do the laundry or something. it helps to know.”

“of course i will.” you smile, hearing some commotion in the background. “and rafey? give wheezie a hug for me.”

“is that y/n?” you hear her voice in the background, then the fumbling of the phone being handed off.

“y/n!” wheezie squeals.

“wheezie, my girl!”

“how are you getting to class?” rafe asks, looking into the room where proceedings are about to start, going over his fathers will and who gets what. he knows most of it will go to rose, most likely the house and the real estate company. he doesn't really care. he has a new life now, one with you.

“amber is gonna drive me and pick me up. and no, her boyfriend will not be there.” you giggle, knowing even though amber and her boyfriend steven have been together since third grade, rafe would still worry with him around.

“and you're going to poli sci and then your geology lab, right?” rafe has your schedule memorized, but he likes to hear your confirmation anyways.

“yup!” you nod, even though rafe can't see you. “im excited for todays lab, actually. it's not rock identification, which you know i suck at.”

rafe let's out a soft laugh, having sat and listened to your complaining about rocks for hours already this semester.

“rafe, it's starting soon.” rose says, her words being picked up by you, otherwise rafe probably would have just ignored her in favor of keeping talking.

“alright, baby. hope it all goes well and doesn't take too long. i love you.” you coo into the phone.

“love you more.”

“home tomorrow.” rafe whispers softly, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the house. he's exhausted, so they must be too. it was a long day with lots of legal jargon, but everything got divided up about how he expected it to.

most to rose, then the additional savings divided up evenly between him, sarah, and wheezie.

“im glad.” you whisper back, matching his tone even though you're home alone. “i ordered a cute pair of pajamas to wear to help me sleep. you know how much i struggle without you.”

“your insomnia cure.” rafe smiles, remembering what you called him after you first started sharing a bed, able to easily relax into him and fall into a true deep sleep.

“mhm.” you hum out, letting out a yawn. “do you mind staying on the call until i fall asleep?”

“baby, ill stay on all night.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

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hello mods!! ive just read a fic called ''curve of old bones'' and ''snow angel'' i believe it was called and was wondering what fic you can recommend me to read that follows the themes of fake dating/ enemies to friends to lover/ pining whilst fucking sorta thing???

Hey, we have tags for everything you're asking for! #fake/pretend relationship, #enemies to lovers, #enemies to friends to lovers, #pining while fucking. As pining while fucking only has two posts, here are some more to add...

Curses foiled again by hapax (E)

To be blunt: in order to return to tip-top condition, Aziraphale was going to have to get laid. And the angel had spent almost six thousand years of his existence among humans assiduously avoiding anything of the sort. Aziraphale turns to his hereditary enemy for assistance with a particularly pesky curse. After all, it’s not like a demon has any feelings that might be involved.

Ambrosia by pilatesandpinot (E)

Those damn aphrodisiacs. They chatted as they soaked in the water, Crowley ate from a platter of fruit, hoping the sugar from them would somehow cure his sudden lightheadedness, as the blood in his head was probably pumping down to his groin, and get rid of the heated feeling in his abdomen, while Aziraphale lathered her arms and shoulders with oil. When she moved down to her breasts and tummy, she leaned back a bit, slowly and carefully cupping herself and making a small little hum sound as she rubbed her belly. Crowley had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning, watching the glisten of the angel’s skin, the warm glow she seemed to be emitting, her lush and curvy body sitting comfortably in the water. He was indeed fucked. ------------------------------ Aziraphale and Crowley have oysters at Petronius's, and soon learn while visiting the bath house afterwards why oysters are one of Aphrodite's favorite foods.

May My Teaching Drop as the Rain by Dee_Morris (E)

Several people on Twitter have commented that there isn't enough Ineffable Tutors content out there, and I have to agree. The book doesn't go into very much detail about what Cortese and Harrison get up to in the years they spend educating young Warlock, and as a fic writer there's nothing as much fun as a blank space to play in. I expect that the stories in this series will more or less stand alone, but I'll add notes and recaps where I think it's necessary. These will mostly be light-hearted horny adventures with little to no angst. Tags may change or be added as I write more stories.

Out There by snae_b (E)

Small town paper, small town news, and Aziraphale always gets stuck with the shit stories. Strange lights in the desert? Aziraphale might as well be writing about el Chupacabra. Again. At least his source is cute, even if he is a little out there.

The Arrangement by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley are set up on a blind date as a joke by their respective housemates. They decide to get their own back and call everybody's bluff by *gasp* fake dating!

Craving by DawnOfTomorrow (E)

“You want me to pay for it.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” His assistant said, entirely unimpressed by the fact that he could fire her. “You said-” “I said that it would probably be a good idea for you to get some, and if you can’t be bothered to do it the normal way, that there are professional options. And then I said that if you’d like, I could recommend someone.” --- He called the fucking number. He didn’t know why – okay, he did, he was an idiot, tipsy, lonely, and horny – but he called the damn number. --- Even just looking at the blonde’s profile, he felt a twinge in his gut. Blonde curls indeed – over features that revealed the other man’s age, light eyes, and a cute, upturned nose. Slim lips, currently curved in a smile for the bartender. Crowley studied the rest of him too – a bit of chub, not enough to be fat, but definitely dad-bod territory. He sighed softly, wondering what sort of witch Anathema was, because she had been spot on about this guy being his type. He didn’t even need to see the large hands or plush thighs to make up his mind – this… this could work.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #pining while fucking #human au #mod d

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lilveeblog · 5 months

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late night phone calls

back with another little!reader and cg!willifer because it cures me

everyone also loved the last one !

reminder that requests are open, pls send them to my inbox :)) love you all lots

it was late at night and you couldn’t sleep. you had come out of your headspace earlier in the day and had settled yourself down for bed. now, Will was fast asleep in his own bed and you felt guilty. he’d been busy with work recently so you didn’t want to disturb his sleep. JJ was out of town working a case.

you sat on the front porch, looking up at the night sky. it was chilly, but you weren’t shivering. you had your mama’s big coat on. it smelt like her and it wrapped around you so tightly. you missed her a lot when she was away, more than you’d ever admit. some days were harder than others.

what you loved most about your relationship with JJ was she was your caregiver and best friend all in one. that was how it all started, you were best friends and she knew about the regression. when she met Will and realised they were both infertile, they lost all hope until you regressed around the pair for the first time. ever since then, you’d been their little baby. their angel. but no matter what, when not in your headspace, you were still JJ’s best friend and she didn’t see you any less.

sighing, you sent her a text. it was a small ‘hey’, mainly just to start up a conversation. you wanted her badly, big or little. almost immediately, your phone began ringing. it was a facetime request and you smiled, picking up.

“hello you,” she cooed down the phone.

“hi,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. yes, she was your best friend but you were tired and just the sound of your caregivers voice wanted to make you slip.

“what you doing up? isn’t it like 3am?” she asked. she didn’t use her mama voice, seeing you weren’t regressed which you appreciated. you both knew that being small now, when outside and alone, wouldn’t help things.

“Will is fast asleep and i was awake watching a movie for a while then just needed some fresh air. how’s the case?”

“it’s okay. everyone’s resting now.”

you carried on the small talk until a big yawn escaped your small body. your entire body stretched out, feeling the exhaustion of the day come over you.

“why don’t you head inside?” jj said softly. you nodded, that was a good idea. “don’t forget to lock the door.”

you headed inside and slipped off her coat. you saw her smile widely as she realised it was hers. you blushed and hurried up the stairs to your bedroom.

“you in your pjs?” she asked, her mama voice was coming out more now and you needed it.

“no yet,” you whispered down the phone.

“get them on then love. have you brushed your teeth?”

JJ talked you through your nighttime routine at 3am and you sighed, feeling the regression really take over you. you slid to the bathroom floor after you’d had a wee, done your teeth and washed your face.

“go crawl into bed my little love,” JJ whispered, tired herself.

“mama,” you whined.

“go crawl into dada’s bed then baby,” she chuckled - reading your mind. you smiled and nodded. you wanted cuddles with your dada.

you pushed open his bedroom door and turned the camera round so your mama could see his drooling face. she giggled.

“get under the covers carefully love, don’t wake him up.”

“what bout cuddles ma?” you grumbled.

“cuddle him carefully, he’ll probably snuggle up to you in your sleep princess.” she was getting more tired now. with the darkness around you both, sleep was inevitable.

“mama!” you groaned loudly as you tried to get comfortable.

“hey hey, you’re okay,” she murmured. “shuffle around, deep breaths. mama’s here.”

just hearing her voice settled you and you soon got comfy.

“close them eyes little one,” your mama said. you did so and then felt your dada’s strong arms pull you close to him.

“i’ve got her jay,” dada said into the phone.

“thank you baby, you give each other extra big cuddles for me.” she was on the brink of sleep herself. you rolled over and curled into your dada.

“night mama i loves wo,” you muttered down the phone softly.

“goodnight angel, i love you so much.”

“goodnight my love, i love you.” Will said to her too.

“goodnight baby. i love you too.”

the three of you fell asleep together. although your mama was at the other side of the country, it still felt so comforting hearing her soft breaths at the other end of the phone. you could see strands of her blonde hair in the soft light too and you couldn’t wait to have it tangled around your fingers again. you snuggled closer to your dada in your sleep, clinging to him and he held you tighter.

you loved your little family more than anything.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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howdy there! was wondering if you could do a mewtwo!reader that manages to wound up in paldea after escaping team rocket back in kanto as they experimented on the poor reader for GOD knows how long and they eventually encouter our beloved trio (nemona, arven & penny) and are put on EXTREMELY high alert because the reader is still convinced that everyone is out for them but the trio manage to calm the genetic psychic pokemon's savage nature and at least allow them to rest up and let their wounds heal? (bonus points if the reader trusts em enough to allow to be captured but thats entirely up to you)

At some point, you realized that no place in Kanto was safe anymore...as Team Rocket was searching for you far and wide.

All just for the chance to recapture you and subject you to even more cruel experiments.

You've dealt with them since the moment you were born, those damned scientists determined to push past the limits of your powers to further their own agenda.

How many more scars must they leave on your body? How much more of your psychic energy will be drained until they're satisfied??

You've had enough.

The only thing left to do was leave the safety of Cerulean Cave..but of course, the organization wasn't about to let you walk out without a fight.

They anticipated your escape, cornering you with their strongest bug, dark, and ghost types.

The lead grunt even illegally manufactured a master ball, hoping to catch you without fail.

Yet you unleashed your fury in the form of a massive psychic wave, not only destroying that, but also causing every Pokémon and human to collapse. Then you made your escape as the cave began crumbling.

You didn't care if they made it out alive or not....this world was better off without human scum like them.

And their Pokémon? They were nothing but traitors to their kind.

Eventually, you arrived in Paldea and took shelter near some ruins, your psychic energy spent from teleporting all the way here and your wounds not fully healing yet-

"Dios mio!! Is that a Mewtwo????"

Aaaaand you're on high alert once again, barely able to get a moment's rest.

You could see three young human trainers approaching, two in what looked like school uniforms and the other with a hoodie and some kind of Eevee on her back.

Despite your exhaustion, you refused to let them see you in such a vulnerable state, staring them down as your eyes glowed with what little psychic energy you had left.

All humans were out to get you. If not a scientist who wanted to experiment on you...it would be a trainer who wanted to show you off like some trophy--either way, both wanted to use you as a weapon.

"I will only ask you once...leave me alone, or I will destroy you all." You warn.

Nemona confused on who's speaking at first, but quickly realizes it's you and tries to calm you down.

However, your focus shifts to Arven's Mabosstiff and you try attacking him....yet you're barely able to lift him off the ground before your strength wanes once again, dropping him.

Arven's furious, ready to go over and punch you (like Ash Ketchum in the first movie), but while he's held back by the two girls...you wondered why he reacted that way.

"How curious...you'd rather throw yourself in front of your own Pokémon instead of sending him after me? Why is that, Arven?"

"B-Because the last time I made him fight a powerful Pokémon I never met before, he was...he...." He doesn't finish, but you understood.

And in that moment, your eyes opened a little bit more, finally gaining some clarity as you gaze at his companion.

"Your Mabosstiff was mortally wounded in the past, but he was cured...and neither of you wish to live through that pain again."

"Wha....how did you know?"

"He told me." You gestured to the dark type with a small smile, hearing his woof of agreement. "I see he is your best friend, not some tool. Perhaps I was wrong to think all humans are selfish monsters.."

"I mean, we did save Paldea's ecosystem from being wrecked!" Nemona added cheerfully.

"It's true," Penny nodded. "But look, uh...Mewtwo..we're not your enemy. Obviously you're still hurt. You don't have to keep fighting like this. We can help you out, but..only if you let us."

You'd tell her you can manage, but the fact you couldn't even stand back up without great pain proved her point.

So in the end, you allow the trio to heal you with some potions and give you the chance to rest, reassuring you that Team Rocket can't follow you here.

You refused to be taken to any Pokémon Center as to not be seen by too many humans.

However, you'll stick around the three whenever they venture out into Paldea, teleporting into their dorms sometimes just to see what they're up to, protecting them from harm, etc.

Nemona hoped to capture you, though she respects your wishes to live freely. It's what you deserve after all you've been through.

#i love this concept to bits so tyyyyy #clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon reader #mewtwo #pokemon arven #pokemon nemona #pokemon penny #headcanons

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darkbluekies · 11 months

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Hi blue! I hope you've been feeling well! If you don't mind, would you give us a sneak peek of what you're currently working on? I'm looking forward to whatever it is 💖💕

🥀

Here are some that I've started :)

Let's hope I'll finish them

The hedwig diaries: "I want to kill"

Dear diary, I want to kill and you have to believe it's more than just selfish reasons. I don't know what else to do. I respect everyone, why can't they respect me? Why does no one think that my relationship is serious? I love Y/N more than anything else in this entire world! Am I the only one seeing that? Certainly not, right?

Someone tried to approach them today in the cafeteria. I could see in an instant that he had no good intentions. I've tried to get Y/N to ditch the grotesque cafeteria food, but they won't hear me out … I can't for the life of me understand why. I've told them that I can get my chef to make lunchboxes for us both, but they squirm when I'm trying. I think it's because of what others will think. Y/N wants to blend in and not stand out. Being with me only complicates that. They told me once that if they would start eating food from my house, they'd stand out even more — people might even think they're a gold digger, that they're using me. I know Y/N, I know they're not. Why do they have to care what others think so badly?

Deja vu [Dr Kry x female reader]

He copies the telephone number from the page into his phone. His hands are trembling. He can’t believe that he’s going to speak with you again! Dr Kry walks out into the corridor and dials. He holds the phone to his ear, swallowing.

“Hello?”

Your sweet voice is enough to cause his legs to shake. He suddenly feels like a schoolboy again. Oh, how he hates it.

“Y/N …”, he whispers out when remembering how to speak.

Silence.

“Why are you calling me?” you ask harshly. “How did you get my number?!”

“Your son came into my office and-”

“Oh my God! Don’t touch him, please! Kry, please, he’s innocent.”

Hearing you plead like that again gives him the confidence back.

“Don’t freak out now”, he says. “I’m not going to hurt him. Better yet, I’ll cure him … but I won’t let him go unless you come here. Alone. And if you tell anyone I’ll cause an … accident. You’re familiar with those, aren't you?”

“You fucking madman, Kry!”

He smiles.

“So you’ll come?” he asks excitedly. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes then. I’ll be waiting.”

In our own world [king Edmund x female reader]

"Who were you talking to?" Edmund asks without looking up from his desk. "Fuck all of these papers make me insane!"

"It was the queen, your majesty", the guard answers.

Edmund snaps his head up, his heart skipping a beat. You've finally come to him?

"What did she want?" he asks quickly.

"She just wanted to speak with you", the guard answers. "Nothing more. She said that it could wait so I sent her away. I know how you said that you didn't want to be disturbed-"

"You fucking idiot! That rule implies for everyone but her. Go get her."

"Yes, your highness."

The guard runs out of the room, sensing that he's upset king. Edmund sighs frustratedly, shaking his head.

He returns with you by hid side just a minute later. Carefully, he walks out and shuts the door behind him. Edmund smiles fondly as he sees you.

"I heard you wanted to talk to me", he says softly.

"It was nothing important", you say.

"Yes, it was. Come here."

He pats his lap. You walk over to him slowly and sit down on his thigh. Edmund smiles and wraps his arm around your waist securely.

The balance of a youngster (might change the title) [Silas x reader]

You hide the bloody, crying boy behind you.

“How fucking low are you?!” you shout, unable to control your feelings. “That’s a child for fucks sake!”

You might not be able to stand up for yourself in his Hell house, but you can’t watch them hurt a little kid.

“Lower. Your. Voice.”

Too late. They freeze with their eyes stuck on Silas coming out behind them. You look at him over your shoulder, growing cold. You’ve disturbed his work.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Silas mutters. “I’m trying to work.” He caresses your shoulder protectively. “Baby, are you alright?”

“I’m okay”, you say. “But these men are hurting this little boy.”

He stands between you and the men. You grab the little boy and turn around to walk back inside.

“Boss, that little shit tried to grab my gun and run”, one of the men sighs.

“I don’t fucking care, alright?” Silas hisses and glances towards the back door to make sure you didn’t hear. “How stupid can you be to do this outside where people can hear? Especially Y/N! How many times have I told you to watch what you’re doing?!”

“We didn’t know they were allowed to walk freely around the house”, the other man says. “Honestly. We thought they were either locked in the basement or bedroom.”

Silas sighs heavily. “Idiots.”

Scaring me [Jerry x reader]

Carefully, she lifts your fingers to her plump lips and kisses it softly.

You look at the cabbage.

"Don't think about it", Jerry tells you. "You're not going to continue. This was a stupid idea. Why did I ever think it was okay for you to use a knife? I trust you too much. Fuck sake. You hurt yourself. Get out of the kitchen."

"It's just a little cut …", you say. "I wanted to make something special for you. I had it all planned …"

She cups your cheeks between her hands.

"I know, baby", she says comfortingly. "And I'm very grateful that you wanted to do something for me, but what kind of girlfriend am I if I let you get hurt, hm? My number one priority is to protect you."

"I know, but …"

"I'll continue this. Go sit down in the living room. People like you shouldn't be allowed into kitchens."

I'm planning to make a oneshot where you escape Hedwig too, but I haven't started it yet!!<33

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #yandere stories #yandere teaser #yandere female #yandere doctor #yandere king #🥀 anon

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scarfacemarston · 2 months

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Omggggg can we get some sadie x reader action please? Thank you so much🙏🙏

Sure! Here is one of the few other examples I have of me writing Sadie, (Some are NSFW)if you're interested. I don't receive requests for her often, so I'm hoping I did okay.

You're aware that Jake will always be Sadie's number 1 love in her life, but as long as you can accept that, you're already on the road to a healthy relationship.

You approached her as a friend first. Not as someone to coddle or look at her with pity, and Sadie appreciated that immensely. Sometimes, the two of you would sit silently, listen to the birds sing, or enjoy watching the streams nearby. This is something that the two of you would openly seek later on in the relationship - sometimes with better or worse results. The bogs of Lemoyne were not exactly date-worthy, but you enjoyed the flower fields, the rolling hills, and the mountainside. Sadie was always on the lookout for new locations to show you. It was always a great way to leave camp and spend some alone time.

Sadie actually likes mystery novels and has a bad habit of trying to guess the ending the entire time, or worse, she'll sneak a peak at the end of the book and smile smugly as you were surprised by every twist in the book.

She would NEVER admit it, but she enjoys the occasional romance novel. She never considered herself a romantic person, and she never will. Still, she would be lying to herself if some books didn't remind her of her relationship with Jake…………or the occasional Sapphic "friend" novel reminding her of you. She may or may not borrowed an idea or two from the books to try out on you. Think Cassandra from Dragon Age.

She loves jerky of any type. She used to dry and cure the meat, testing out various mixtures with the different animals that were hunted. She'll buy as much as possible, but it still pales compared to the jerky she's made. She does not understand why people don't appreciate jerky more. It is certainly not a boring food. Modern Au Sadie has a hatred for Whole Foods, but especially finds their jerky selection pretentious.

She's not a particularly religious woman, but she has prayed before for your safety when she felt like there was nothing else that could be done. She hated the helplessness, and at least praying was something, even if it wasn't necessarily meaningful to her.

Favorite fruit is blueberries. She's always loved popping them in her mouth in between picking them from the bushes. Jake used to bake pies with them. She'd be overjoyed if you baked for the two of you………….but she can try if you ask nicely enough.

Loves her harmonica. She is constantly asked to play "Clementine". Usually, it's Jack that asks for it, but she'll play for you……..but prefers you pick a different song.

She will come up with any excuse for you to share her horse. "Your horse looks tired," "You look tired," "My horse is already tacked," "Bob is faster,." "Bob spooks less."

Has a weakness for hats. She is very economical, but if she sees a good hat, she won't hesitate to loot it and dust it off. She has at least four different hats…..so far. It makes it easy for you to pick out a gift for her.

#rdr 2 #sadie adler #red dead redemption 2 #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler x female reader #van der linde gang

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wheels-of-despair · 6 months

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Enough | A Make Up Story | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: Could Be Worse Words: 2.5k

"Had a nice reunion with Jade, did ya?"

He might as well have punched you in the gut. You lean back against your car, still halfway in a ditch, seeing them all over again. You exhale shakily and try to think of a witty response, but your thoughts are too scattered to provide one.

He steps closer and leans on your car next to you; not touching, but close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him in the cool night air. You stare off into the distance together, trying to collect yourselves as you watch the moonlight illuminate the blades of grass swaying in the breeze.

"I'm sorry," he says. "That was unkind. The girl… the other girl… she came here to be with me. Or so I thought."

You angle your head toward him, not quite facing him, and see the glimmer of a tear slipping down his cheek.

"Been together for three fuckin' years. Here a week, and Jade steals her away like it's nothing." He rubs his face angrily with his sleeve.

"She has that effect on people," you tell him sympathetically. "Just… consumes your entire fucking life. Don't even think she knows what she's doing."

Tom swipes at his cheeks again.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I don't care."

"I think you do."

"How would you know?" he snaps. You swallow, and proceed gently.

"I know what it's like to love someone who doesn't love you back."

You sigh together and stand in silence, not sure what to do next. This is the worst night of your fucking life. Heart broken, car broken, alone with some random crying guy in the middle of nowhere. Where do you go from here?

"How fuckin' dumb are we?" His bitter laugh comes as a welcome sound, breaking up the deafening silence of the night.

"Could be worse," you smile.

"How?" he challenges.

"I could've run over your stupid ass."

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess that would've been worse. For you, at least."

You lean over and knock him gently with your shoulder, and he loses his balance and stumbles.

"Are you drunk?"

"Maybe," he says cheekily, having turned around to steady himself with his palms on the cool metal of your crooked car. You roll your eyes, even though it's too dark for him to see.

"Well… I'd offer you a ride into town, but I don't think this fucker's coming out by herself." You give the door a smack.

"I'll get the work truck and pull you out in the morning."

"And until then?"

He tilts his head back toward the place you were both running from. Absolutely not.

"I'll sleep in the car."

"No, you won't."

"Don't tell me what to do, Drunk Guy Who Walks in the Middle of the Road."

"We're not going anywhere near them, Girl Who Almost Ran Me Over. There's an unlocked van near the entrance that hasn't been stripped yet. People just left today. We can crash in there tonight, nobody'll even know."

You stay silent.

"I'd offer you your pick of caravans, princess, but I don't have my keys." He pauses. "It's gonna get cold out here tonight. Lots of wild animals out here, too." As if on cue, something screeches in such an unsettling way, your hair stands on end.

"Fine," you grumble. You open your car door and lean in to grab your bag of necessities… and the groceries too. Jade may have lost her chance, but at least somebody would benefit from your signature hangover cure in the morning.

"What's this?" Tom asks when you shove the grocery bag in his hands.

"You'll thank me later," is the only explanation you offer. You really don't feel like having to explain how ready and willing you were to take care of the woman who'd just stolen Tom's girlfriend from him.

You lock your car - which is far enough in the ditch to not block the road - and turn back toward the caravan park. It's not until you begin walking that you realize how drunk Tom is. He didn't slur his words or get giggly or emotional like Jade did when she was hammered, but he was dragging his feet and stumbling. When he trips over nothing for the third time, you sling your bag across your body and slide yourself under his arm.

"Don't get any ideas, Drunk Boy, you're making me sick with all this weaving you're doing." You point ahead. "Ready to try a straight line?"

"Piss off," he mumbles, but there's no anger in his voice. You grin and guide him forward.

He has to stop and get his bearings when you reach the caravans closest to the main road, but eventually finds the one he's searching for. He opens the door and gestures for you to enter. You step inside the dark room and stop, not knowing where the light switch is or what might be waiting for you to trip over. Tom crashes into you with a grunt a second later, then turns on the light.

It hadn't been scrubbed yet, but it wasn't in bad shape.

Tom sets the groceries on the table and stands there awkwardly. You have to give him credit; as uncoordinated as he was, he never dropped it.

"There's sandwich stuff in there," you tell him, pointing to the bag. "Make yourself something to eat, I'm going to change the sheets."

"Not hungry. I'll do it."

"You're gonna want something to soak up all the booze you've got sloshing around in there," you gesture to his stomach with a smirk. It rumbles helpfully to illustrate your point.

"Spares are in the top of the closet," he says, dropping into a chair at the table and starting to pull out the food you'd bought for Jade. You turn to hide your smile. You strip the sheets and put on clean ones, then return to the tiny kitchen.

Tom's made you a sandwich. It's sitting on a paper napkin across from where he's destroying his own. You step past him to look through the cabinets, and find a stack of paper cups. Those will do. You pour two cups of the weird pop Jade likes and slide one toward Tom, taking your seat across from him.

He takes a sip. "The fuck is this?"

"Something Jade likes," you shrug.

"She has horrible taste," he blanches, then takes another bite of his sandwich. He looks up to see your pointed stare.

"…in drinks," he says through a full mouth.

"Nice save," you admonish sarcastically before taking a sip from your own cup. "Good god, is this made from goat urine?"

Tom snorts, causing him to choke on his sandwich. You get up to slap him on the back and dislodge the hunk of bread, and when he recovers, you take your cups to the sink and pour the god-awful liquid down the drain. You rinse and fill them with water, then return to your seat.

"First you try to run me over," he takes a gulp from his cup, "then you try to poison me. What's next? You gonna drown me in the sea?"

"Only if you survive the fall when I push you down the dunes," you wink, taking another bite of your sandwich.

He grins and shoves the last bit of food in his mouth, then begins cleaning up his side of the table. He even sticks your perishables in the tiny fridge for you. No sense in spoiled food and broken hearts, you suppose.

"You take the bed, I'll sleep on the sofa." He'd waited 'til you'd just taken a bite so you couldn't protest. Without waiting for a response, Tom walks into the living room and flops down on the tiny sofa under the window. He yelps, flails, and falls back onto the floor.

You jump up and flick the living room light on. Tom lifts the front of his jumper to his nose, sniffs, then breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh thank fuck, it's only beer. Thought I'd just laid face-down in someone's piss."

You snort and cover your mouth with your hand, body shaking with silent giggles.

"Oh, you think this is funny, do you?"

"No," you lie. Tom glares and picks himself up off the floor, peeling his now-wet jacket off. He hangs it on a wall hook, then turns back to stare at the sofa, looking for a dry spot big enough to lie in.

"C'mon," you tilt your head toward the bedroom. "I solemnly swear not to spoon you."

"You're sure?"

"Unless you really want me to?"

"No, I mean…" You know what he meant.

"After all we've been through? I think we can survive one night together."

#writings of despair #tom grant is enough #tom grant #tom grant x you #tom grant x reader #WARNING: You have not seen the last of the last only-one-bed trope. You're welcome.

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uwabbittuwabbit · 5 months

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in my head these r what miyazaki ghibli pairings map onto what motogp ships:

-rosquez are obviously howl and sophie, which i go more into depth into here. its also important that sophie and howl get into the fight about howl's hair, because sophie ultimately does go back, puts on her business face etc. i think the timeline would work out like, they get into that big argument whatever its about but marc goes back, vale tries to make up for it with the ring and beautifying marc's clothes and eventually the house in the mountains but during that time its like their relationship is completely frozen even though they're living in the same house...marc considers moving out to live with alex etc. just becomes older with his withdrawal because of the curse. And then vale moves the castle to marc's old home. sophie is also like very much obligated to her family as the oldest daughter (which is why she stays in the hat shop) which is very marc! he wants to make his people happy...Also don't tell me fuck ass bob vale DOESN'T scream young howl to you. say it to my face. u can't.

-enea/casey are san and ashitaka from princess mononoke. just imagine the "im going to cut ur throat/ur beautiful" scene with them...i dont think casey necessarily gets cured from the illness that he gets from the corrupted forest god it just becomes part of him, so its no longer killing him after the forest god's head is returned but still ails him. hes from a super far secret civilization and cant go back after being banished (kind of like how u can't fade into obscurity after rising to fame). rides an antelope looking thing and is so so noble. enea is feral and living with the wolves. hates humans. but when this stranger comes and gets shot in his name he can't help but feel something other than that hatred he has felt all of his life. chews casey's food for him and delivers it mouth to mouth when he's too weak to eat...the same mouth that spat out the poisoned blood around the mother wolf's bullet wound. etc.

-cele/bezz r sosuke and ponyo, but they also have the potential to be kiki(bezz) and tombo(cele) and sheeta(cele) and pazu(bezz)...to me cele is sosuke, the weird kid who lives in the house on a hill (alone), signals ships at night just to talk to somebody and flies maritime flags. likes to fix stuff, has a tiny little dinky car. works as a daycare science teacher taking the kids on trips to catch bugs and frogs but also helps out at the nursing home next door, fixing the wheelchairs of the residents and like taking them out for fresh air while the kids tag along. thats summer though and in the winter he helps out at the dock and on fishing boats. he would love you if you were a worm, in short. bezz's misadventures get him stuck in a jar (he could cry he's so embarrassed) but cele finds him when testing his newest like little motorized toy boat prototype he wants to show the kids and bezz IMMEDIATELY falls in love, it's crazy. you bet he licked the blood off of cele's gashed finger just like that. is absolutely INDULGING in the attention he gets when cele brings him in for Show And Tell/Storytime and explains in his pondering voice how he found bezz. gets sloshed on that forbidden magic juice right after getting plopped back home and runs on giant fucking waves as cele commutes home to impress him. all cele feels is like, mild concern like damn do i have to detour home? i would have known if there was some major meteorological event coming my way. when the curly haired stranger with an earnest smile shows up at his home and engulfs him in a hug, he meets it with the same bewilderment but because bezz feels familiar. consequentially is not very impressed or surprised about bezz being a fish loool. i was just picturing the thumbnail of this video the entire time i wrote this and that's literally their whole vibe. that's bezz in cele's tub right there. this post is getting away from me more than it already is so ill like do a quick preface of the other premises...bezz is a witch and his familiar is rubik...flies away to a big city and meets cele with his homemade flying contraptions...gets tattoed for the first time by some random artist in the woods...becomes depressed...can't fly anymore...cele is the last member of a royal family and falls from the sky after being held on an airship, with bezz as the one to catch him...bezz has always wanted adventure because his father was one of the few people to have ever seen the fabled castle in the sky...wants to take his chances with cele...cele's billowing curls and tragic eyes...all bezz wants to do is make him happy...all cele wants is to go home.

-luca/pecco as haku and chihiro from spirited away. their whole vibe is childhood friends that grew apart and then rekindled imo. when they meet in the spirit world luca introduces himself as maro and to pecco he seems familiar; you how it was on a playground when you were young and you knew everything about someone except for their name? so maro it is, and he takes pecco's hand when he cries about his roommates (pecco's in college and ended up in an abandoned places exploration group with them) being turned into pigs and is panicking about not being able to go home and is generally a mess and tells him to get up from where he's been curled up into a ball and run with him to the bathhouse where he gets a job and becomes just pecco, no francesco because his name gets taken away. life is pretty tough for pecco at first and he's very lonely while luca is away doing missions for the boss, which is most of the time. hes also very insecure and fears luca leaving him because he's not good enough. but he puts his head down and slowly earns respect from his peers. starts standing up for himself and becoming more confident, and eventually has his standout moment for completely cleansing a polluted spirit. luca (a river spirit) fell in love with pecco when he fell into him and wasn't able to swim. even though that was very much an embarrassing moment what made it worse were pecco's flailing attempts to keep his head above water, but that was what endeared him to luca. it was his stupidly stubborn will to keep his nose to the grindstone even when it filled his mouth with water and got him nowhere. that is how a river thinks, and luca could never forget pecco's lanky straggling form as he struggled up the banks of the river, wretched and alive but triumphant for doing so.

#sorry this is super fucking long...#but if you have any thoughts leave them on the post! there are definitely ships that i have missed #(namely pedronzo i cannot figure out their vibe)#but yea :)#rosquez #casey/enea #bezz/cele #pecco/luca #i should start tagging rpf lol #rpf #look away if u dont enjoy!#motogp #eternalectics

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badboyzbingobrunch · 2 years

Text

Gorgeous (part 1) 18+

Hawthorne Michael Langdon x Fem witch reader

( enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary:

After the announcement that a warlock will be completing the 7 wonders, both the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, and Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies try to put up an appearance of peace between the rival schools. This new chapter of peace between witches and warlocks has a potential to pave the way for the future of magic, but when Hawthorne’s “Wonder boy” is found out to be a cheat by (y/n) she fights to make him reveal himself.

****************************************************** “Alright, Ladies. Load up on the buses” Ms. Myrtle was instructing all of the students of Robichaux’s to our respective buses. The boys school had agreed to host us out of a good faith arrangement while one of their own would be performing the 7 wonders. A male completing the 7 wonders would be a sight to behold. There has never been a warlock in history who could complete 4 of the 7 wonders let alone all of them.

It was an excruciating bus ride from Louisiana to California but, after our arrival, we were greeted by every boy attending Hawthorne’s. I looked around to each of their faces. Any one of these boys could be him. It was actually pretty exciting to experience history in the making. Robichaux students were grouped into 3s and escorted to our rooms for the next two weeks. I was grouped with Amber and Elena. I was pretty new to the academy, so anyone else was grouped with would be a stranger. They seemed nice though. Each room had a large bathroom with a tub and shower. Eager to wash the bus off, my roommates and I piled into the bathroom and began washing up. “Do you think he’s cute?” Amber was washing her ginger hair in the sink as she asked Elena who was fully submerged in the tub. Elena shrugged. “A lot of them are cute.” I was in the shower letting the hot water cure the ache in my tired bones. Personally more interested in how powerful this “wonder boy” was than if he were cute. We were asked to wear the feminine version of Hawthorne’s school uniform which was a complex uniform consisting of a button up shirt, satin vest, tie, blazer, knee length skirt, stockings and Mary Janes in all black except for the long sleeve button up shirt which was white. We were expected to wear this uniform every day during our attendance here. Were we expected to participate in lessons? I suddenly felt nervous about this venture. What if I embarrassed myself in front of these strangers? My nerves kept sleep at bay. Looking at the clock it was 5 am, and I heaved a defeated sigh before putting on the uniform and pulling my hair into a neat style. Maybe the library would be a good place to practice my spells before breakfast. The entire school was silent, as everyone slept peacefully. The underground school was a true work of art, looking much more suited for a museum instead of a school. As I approached the library I could hear faint cursing from the other side of the door. I reached for the door knob just as a tall blonde boy ran out and slammed against me. The force was so intense that I fell back hard onto my bottom. He stood with his feet firmly planted on the ground and sneered in my direction. “Watch where you are going.” He spoke calmly with a cold indifference as he rolled his eyes and took elegant strides away from me. “You ran into me, jerk!” I called after him in vain as he disappeared down the hallway. Such a punk! It doesn’t matter how neatly groomed he may be. He is still a thug. A dark haired boy equally well groomed exited the library next and extended a hand to help me up. “William Banks. It’s a pleasure to meet such a lovely witch so early in the morning.” I accepted his hand with a grateful smile. “(Y/n) (L/n). It’s a pleasure to be met by a gentleman after a run in with a thug. What was his problem anyway?” William shrugged. “Something about his dad not answering him. He must be dead or something because he keeps casting summoning circles. Langdon is a weird guy, but way powerful.” My heart ached at the thought of the boy desperately trying to contact his dead father, and suddenly his rudeness was easily forgivable. “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll see you around?” William nodded eagerly. “Absolutely you will.”

Michael POV:

I just can’t understand why he isn’t answering me? Am I supposed to complete the 7 wonders on my own? Am I supposed to be proving myself to him? “Mr. Langdon! Perhaps you misunderstood the rule that ALL students were to be in attendance of their respective classes at 7 sharp. Maybe you thought you didn’t need to learn more from us now that you are our resident GOLDENCHILD, but I assure you that you do.” Mr. Chablis stood over the couch that I was resting my eyes on. I stood as respectfully as I could as I looked down at his smaller frame. “Forgive me, sir. I was up all night practicing for my performance of the 7 wonders. I rested my eyes for only a moment, but time got away from me.” I gave a small apologetic smile hoping to successfully charm him into staying out of my business. “Right! Well drink this, it’ll put some PEP back into your step.” He handed me a black mug filled with a camel colored liquid. I scrunched my nose as I tried to decipher what he was giving me. “What is it?” “Coffee!” Mr. Chablis then preceded to laugh at his own joke. A joke I was obviously not privy to because I was unaware of what was supposed to be funny about giving a boy a cup of coffee? Was I the joke. Was my reaction what was funny to him? I shook the thoughts from my head and brought the warm porcelain to my lips. The liquid burned my tongue and esophagus. But I only focused on the flavor. My mouth would heal in about a 3 seconds, but I liked the creamy flavor of this drink. It was a curious blend of bitter and sweet. Mr. Chablis was right. It did put some “pep” in my step. My first class was transfiguration which was Mr. Chablis‘ class. Obviously he is the only instructor who cares if I am late. I arrived in the middle of the girl’s academy instructor teaching how to change the color of roses. “Thank you, for joining us. Just take a flower and sit anywhere. We haven’t started yet, so you are just in time.” Mr. Chablis extended a bucket filled with white roses towards me. I took one with a nod of appreciation to my instructor. The girl who got in my way last night was sitting in a corner all alone. Why was she outside the library so early anyway? The witches came all this way just to see me perform the 7 wonders. Maybe she came to see me. I may as well have a little fun with them while they are here for me, right? I strutted towards her and sat on the floor of the library. My knee gently grazed her thigh as I sat. I expected some sort of reaction of excitement, but she only gave me a small nod acknowledging my presence before turning her attention towards her instructor. Playing hard to get huh? That’s okay, I like cat and mouse. I redirected my attention to the instructor who was twirling her own white rose in her hand. “Today we are going to be changing the color of these roses. It can be any color you like but it must be one solid color. Do not focus too hard on the change or it may change many times, and do not focus to little or the rose will not change at all. Roses are stubborn like that.” She examined her rose and continued. “Try to imagine the rose shifting in your mind and encourage the rose to change.” She extended the rose for everyone to see and smiled as it shifted from white to a deep red. “Now you try.” The girl beside you focused deeply on her rose. Quicker than anyone else’s it shifted to a warm yellow. I looked at the white rose in my hand. It was the color of innocence and purity. I imagined it becoming tainted with my energy. The petals turned to a deep red before shifting quickly to black before the petals fell and turned to ash as they hit the ground. There were several cheers from my schoolmates who were struggling to change the color of their own roses. “Ms. Benson, He didn’t follow instructions.” It was a girl’s voice from beside me. I leaned in to whisper into her ear playfully. “Tattle tale.” Her ears and cheeks began turning red from my small action. Cute. The instructor came towards us and smiled softly.

“No, you did the task right. You only put too much into it. Remember that the flower is stubborn but also precious. Think about something precious to you, something that you wouldn’t want to hurt with your magic and try again.”

She handed me a new rose and just like before it turned deep red, then black, then the petals fell and turned to ash when they hit the floor. I cracked my neck in frustration and tried again with the same result. Why couldn’t I do this? My vision began to blur and I felt the familiar drip of blood from my nose. I was wasting too much energy on this. Suddenly, the rose in my hand burst into flames resulting in shocked gasps from the others in the room. Not beside me though, I felt a friendly hand soothing the tension on my shoulder. “It’s okay, you don’t have anything to prove.” That’s where she is wrong. I was fading into my subconscious, but her one stupid fucking comment grounded me into reality. I grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled her up so that she was eye level with me. “You don’t fucking know me.” In one swift motion I released her and stood. I then wiped my nose on my jacket sleeve and left the library.

******************************************************

I adjusted my uniform as he left. “Damn…Wonder boy is touchy.” One of the girls from Robichaux’s spoke. Her name is Coco. I didn’t know her personally but when we took lessons together she seemed nice. “Are you okay, (y/n)? That was a real dick move.” I nodded as Coco tried to comfort me. I felt overwhelmed and dizzy. Suddenly my vision began to blur and I fell to the floor. The last thing I saw was Ms. Benson’s face as she cleared space for me to breathe.

I woke up in a small infirmary with Ms. Benson placing a cold wet rag onto my forehead. She gasped and called the attention to someone else in the room. “Cordelia! She’s awake.” The face of my supreme came into view and she elegantly took a seat at the foot of my recovery bed. “Are you alright, (y/n)?” I nodded slowly as I sat up in the bed. my muscles ached as I moved. I must have been laying in one spot for a long time. “I need you to be very honest with me. Did Michael do this to you?” Her voice was grave. I enthusiastically shook my head. “No! I just fainted. He yelled at me, but he didn’t do anything. I didn’t sleep last night and I’ve been practicing so much. I think I am just exhausted and fainted..” Cordelia nodded in understanding and began petting my head in a motherly display of affection. “Why do you ask? Is he in trouble?” Cordelia and Ms Benson looked to each other silently before Ms benson answered. “He has been banned from performing the 7 wonders because of what we thought he did to you.” I sprung up so quickly that my head flooded and fell back onto the pillow. “You have to tell him he can perform them again! How long have I been asleep?” Ms. Benson patted my forehead with the cold rag and nodded. “You have only been asleep a couple of days. It was a temporary ban until you woke to tell us what happened.”

I rose slowly this time. “I have to tell him I’m sorry…” Cordelia and Ms. Benson helped me up. “Would you rather one of us did it?” Cordelia offered gently. I shook my head now able to stand on my own two feet. I need to know where he is.-“ “- I can show you to his room.” William Banks was standing in the doorway. With a small bouquet of yellow roses in his hand.

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon #hawthorne Michael #Michael Langdon imagine #michael langdon x you #michael Langdon x witch #BadBoy #slowburn #enemies to lovers #michael Langdon au

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years

Text

perfect tragedy | daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader

Description: After the death of your husband, you are summoned back to court. Your father proclaims your sons as his heirs, much to the dismay of your uncle, Prince Daemon.

But one way or another, he's going to get the throne.

(TW: misogyny and mentions of sex)

Y/N was always motherly – she was warm and flowery, a sharp contrast to Kingslanding indeed. Her husband, Lord Stark died a few months ago and now she's been summoned to her father's courts.

Growing up, she had dreams of Ice and Fire – and sometimes she wondered if it was about her sons. She only wanted to protect them – to keep them away from the merciless acts of this world.

But alas, now she's been summoned to court. There was no doubt in her that her father would use her as a pawn once more. A mere weapon to cure his nightmares.

She stood there – unmoving, graceful and calm. Her oldest Jahaerys standing beside her and her youngest; Rickon who was sleeping in his mother's arms. The eyes of King Viserys courts were now fixed upon her – fixed upon her heirs.

"Your grace" she greets as her father smiles upon her. She was always the favorite – his golden child, the one who could do no wrong in his eyes. But her father was a fool – and she'd rather be safe than powerful.

King Viserys stands up and takes a step towards his daughter. "I summon all of you today, to proclaim my heir" he announces as Y/N holds her breath. Inside of her mind, she pleaded for her to not be chosen – for her sons to live a life free of deceit.

She glances at Queen Alicent and his son Aegon, then to her sister Rhaenyra. Both of them would be better heirs – for both of them were as green as summer grass, for no wise man would ever be King willingly.

King Viserys pauses as Daemon stands behind Y/N. He holds her shoulders and she gasps in surprise, "Uncle" she replies while turning to look behind her. He smirks and motions for her to look at her father.

"Do you suppose that you have a chance in becoming his heir?" he whispers in her ear as she chuckles bitterly. "Well, more chances that you have" she spat as he rolls his eyes.

Y/N – the ever bitter dragon. She always believed that everyone was there to betray her – she was right of course, but he'd rather prefer her naive like her father.

She turns her head back to her father, as he opens his mouth to speak. "Princess Y/N Targaryen, my daughter, I proclaim you my heir" he announces as the entire court erupts into whispers.

They were talking about her, no doubt. They believed that a woman shouldn't have the right to rule. She turns her head towards Princess Rhaenys – they had a chance once, but they denied it.

Whose to say they won't deny her too?

Everyone turns to look at her as Daemon pushes her forward. She reluctantly walks towards the steps of her father's throne as all of the liege lords kneeled before her.

Lies – her mind told her. Rhaenys told her that the men of this realm would rather put the world to torch rather than letting a woman lead – much less a Stark son.

–––

It was the dead of night, the birds chirped and the clatter of the kitchen rang through the halls. Daemon knocks on Y/N's door.

Knock knock.

And she opens it reluctantly – her gaze faltering when she meets her uncle's eyes. "Uncle" she greets as he places his foot in the space between the door – stopping her from closing it.

"It is late – you shouldn't be here." she tells him as he bites back a smirk. Y/N wasn't stupid – she knew that a woman shouldn't be alone with a man at this hour. "I believe the courteous thing to do – would be to invite me in" he snarks as she rolls her eyes.

She pauses – thinking about letting him in. It wasn't like the people would whisper, right? He was just her uncle – well at least in their eyes. "Alright," she agrees as she opens the door wider.

He takes a step inside – inhaling the scent of her room. It smelt like lavender and lilies. She places a goblet of wine on her table as he sits down, "Why are you here anyways?" she questions, pouring herself a a cup.

"I wanted to talk to you. I know you have your doubts," he explains as he raises both of his feet and settles it atop the wooden table. "And I assume that you wish to have your way – do you expect me to beg my father to make you his heir? Or is that far too delusional?" she responds as he rolls his eyes.

She was more than capable of being Queen. She was fair and gentle, but she was not kind. "When we were in Valyria – the women ruled our family. Not until we came here, and now the mere thought of you sitting in the Iron Throne puts these lords at end" he states.

"Will they refuse to kneel when I burn them?" she answers coldly as he sighs. It was true – Daemon was ambitious, cruel and unjust, but he could never betray his brother – or his niece. For he loved them, with all his heart.

He stands up and she raises her eyebrows.

He takes a step towards her, wrapping his pale hands on her back and resting his head on her shoulders. "Uncle" she mutters as he quickly shushes her. "Didn't you miss me?" he whispers as she shudders lightly.

"Did you miss my cock?" he adds as he places a kiss on her neck. She bites her lip, "Fuck" she curses as he laughs. They had an affair a few years back – before marrying The Wolf, before everything happened.

He was beautiful, she couldn't deny it. He was the only one there for her. She turns around and kisses him. His lips tasted like ale, but she could care less.

He wraps his arms around her, his fingers trailing towards her breast.

–––

King Viserys slaps his table loudly as he treads towards his brother, grabbing him by the collar and hitting him hard. Daemon takes a step back as Viserys' wrath doubled. "Does your ambition know no bounds?" he screams at his brother while Y/N stands behind her father, gently rubbing her swollen stomach.

"And you!" he turns towards his heir as her gaze falters. "You were raised in Kingslanding for a reason! Have you no tack!" he yells at her while she looks away.

"He loves me father – and I him. He's loved me long before you made me your heir," she argues as Viserys' eyes darkened. "I should just disinherit you, as I have done to your uncle. But I know that he is just using you – and I will not allow you to be his victim" he spat, taking off his gloves and walking towards Y/N.

She rolls her eyes, "He wishes for the throne – he is using you, Y/N. And I will not agree for any form of marriage between you both!" he announces as she takes a step in his direction.

"And let me mother bastards? Believe it of not father, the child I am carrying is the blood of your blood. Would you deny them that right?" she reasons as Viserys glares at the both of them.

Prince Daemon clears he throat, "Wed her to me. And I'll marry her in the ways of the dragon" he suggests as King Viserys inhaled sharply.

He didn't have a choice. His daughter – his Y/N would indeed be safer with her uncle. "Fine, it's not like any of you listen to me!" he argues as Daemon takes Y/N's hand, grasping it lightly – comforting her with his touch.

----

masterlist

A/N: working on a lot of requests right now ... planning on doing more tho

#Daemon Targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen

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wedonthaveawhile · 4 months

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The Serpents Hold // Chapter Eighteen

A reimagining of the 'In the Shadow of' storyline with more focus on Ominis and his family.

When Sebastian turns to dark magic to cure his sister, Nova and Ominis find themselves reluctantly thrust into a partnership to aid him. Amid the disapproval of Ominis' family, Nova wrestles with her growing feelings for him and also with the nagging suspicion that Ominis knows more about Anne's condition than he's letting on.

AO3 // Masterlist

Tomorrow, 8 o’clock, The Brasserie Royale.

Nova shoved Ominis' invitation back into her pinafore pocket as heavy footfalls thundered through the chaos of wailing outpatients.

The head of the ward barged around the corner into the apothecary storeroom, the force of her entrance accompanied by a sharp scream as if Nova had just sprouted from the ground. "Oh, you're back! Why are you moping in here?"

Nova shot a pointed look at the assortment of cauldrons rattling on their supports, the dense bubbles bursting with trapped steam. "We have a family in the waiting room with blast-ended skrewt burns, and we're out of ointment."

"I see. Well, don't startle me like that, I have an icky heart." The high-ranking healer nearly dunked her subordinate face-first into a scorching cauldron as she shouldered past. "I'm going to assume your trial didn't go well?"

“It went very well, actually.”

"Oh! Well, tell your face. I would have expected more merriment, it must be a relief to know you're not heading on a one-way trip to Azkaban."

Nova's brow furrowed in confusion, her hand navigating past the burly woman to grab the pipettes. "That was never an option. It... it wasn't my murder trial. Did you think it was my murder trial?”

Sceptical eyes raked over Nova from head to toe. "It wasn't?"

"No! Why would you hire me if you thought I was on trial for murder?!"

"We’re desperate, sweetie." She admitted, cramming a generous amount of dittany into her overflowing pocket. "I did find it odd, given your friendship with the Gaunt brother."

The Gaunt’s had become the hotbed of St Mungo's gossip mill when Ominis’ father had commandeered a private room on the fourth floor. Despite her efforts to keep a low profile, it didn't take long for a meddlesome colleague to unearth Nova’s connection to the high-profile murder trial.

"He's not my friend," Nova declared icily, even labelling him as an 'acquaintance' seemed overly generous at this point.

“Really? He dropped by just last week and seemed very interested in what you were up to.”

Nova's grip clenched in alarm, the dropper responding with an impromptu spurt of mallowsweet oil. The viscous, crimson goo eagerly absorbed the unintended addition, tainting the entire batch.

Oblivious to Nova's escalating emergency, the healer persisted, “You should have exploited that connection when you had a chance. Maybe you wouldn't be stuck here at two in the morning if you had thrown him a smile every now and then."

"I don't see how that would matter, he wouldn’t have seen it," Nova spat back. "Besides, he was never one to smile."

"Well, he was nothing but smiles with me." The older witch spun on her heels, biting her lower lip with a girlish giggle, "If I were thirty years younger, I’d be swinging from that pole like a circus monkey. His fiancé is a very lucky woman."

She left Nova alone with the curdled potion, its contents boiling over much like her simmering anger.

She could lower her head when co-workers fawned over Ominis, she could push aside the looming threat of his father on the floor above. The single catalyst for her stoic facade to crumble was any mention of the fucking fiancé.

I’m not going.

She yanked the invitation from her pocket and flung it into the flames, watching as it twisted and charred into smouldering ash.

Fuck him.

Of course, Ominis was ready and waiting when she arrived.

She had stopped trying to rationalise why she chose to meet with him and subject herself to this inevitable suffering.

With tightly braided hair, a dress retrieved from the neglected corner of her wardrobe, and a lengthy trek into central London—there was no attributing it to a momentary lapse of judgment.

She pushed through a flock of polished haircuts crammed into three-piece suits trading mediocre tips on the stock market.

Why am I here? Just go home, you don’t have to have the last word every damn time…

A firm tap on her shoulder roused her goosebumps, accompanied by a refined voice that slithered unpleasantly into her ears.

"You're early."

Fascination collided with a growing sense of unease as she subjected Ominis to a critical inspection instead of offering a greeting.

He was the same Gaunt poster boy she'd seen attend the trial, his black ensemble adorned with delicate touches of emerald. His family crest, a pompous imitation of their Hogwarts house emblem taunted her from his signet ring.

"Shouldn't be an issue," he dismissed any need for a response, perhaps aware she had no intention of dignifying him with one. He took the lead, striding a few steps ahead toward the restaurant and she despised herself for begrudgingly trailing behind.

The waitstaff piloted them through the assembly of circular tables draped in pristine, white linen.

Nova scrutinised patrons in the dim light, each immersed in the traditional act of pouring wine from opulent bottles and wielding their cutlery rather than relying on magic to carve into their premium cuts of meat.

Muggles?

"Ma'am?" The waiter stood poised with her chair pulled out. Muttering an apology, she took her seat while he attended to Ominis, mentioning he would fetch his preferred wine, something undoubtedly extortionate.

They were left alone. The inevitable, tense silence slotted between them and she eyed him curiously. The flickering candlelight of the centrepiece accentuated the razor-sharp edges of his features, underscoring the parallels between the Gaunt who broke her heart and the one that haunted her nightmares.

"There’s no need to be nervous."

"I'm not," Nova replied far too quickly, the clinking of the glassware contradicting her words as her leg jiggled restlessly beneath the table. "Why are we here?"

"Well, seeing as we both hold significant roles in Sebastian's life, I thought we ought to discuss his rehabilitation—"

"No, no," she interrupted his spiel with an impatient rap of her knuckles against the table. "I mean, why are we here. Considering your tendencies, why would a muggle restaurant be where your family hold meetings?"

"Tendencies," he scoffed, clearly deriving amusement from her attitude. "What do you know of my tendencies?"

“Enough.”

He arched an eyebrow as he inclined on his forearms, "Considering the nature of our conversation, do you think anyone in this room would flinch if we delved into topics such as the Ministry, Azkaban, or my alleged tendencies?"

"Muggles aren’t as obtuse as you think they are. If you're a regular here, they'll draw conclusions."

“What my father does in those situations is none of my concern.”

His words struck a nerve, her hands furiously wrung the starched fabric of the tablecloth.

The night their relationship shifted from begrudging allies to friends, she’d confided in him about her father. With her chest wracking from the after-effects of the cruciatus curse, she’d laid bare the story of the muggle consigned to an asylum by the Ministry out of fear he would compromise their world.

It took Ominis a moment to process his words—a fleeting flash of remorse crossing his features before the familiar Gaunt indifference took over. "On the subject of fathers, my condolences for the loss of yours. I sent flowers."

"I got lots of flowers, yours didn’t stand out.”

She’d received two — Three if she were to count the synthetic cactus with a ‘Property of the juvenile detention unit – Do not remove.’ sticker slapped on the bottom, courtesy of Sebastian. Aside from that, there was a bouquet of handpicked wildflowers from Poppy and an ornate emerald vase overflowing with white lilies, no note.

"Speaking of fathers, I hear yours is in bad shape?"

Ominis didn't appear offended by the absence of tact – in the grand scheme of things, it might have bothered her if he had. "Have you seen him?"

"No, I've been assigned to the creature-induced injuries ward for my first year."

In what might have been a misguided attempt to appear nonchalant, he started inspecting the uniformity of his utensils with his fingertips, "When he was admitted to St Mungo’s, I made certain you'd be kept far away from his ward."

Nova's eyes bore into him with abject fury as he toppled his superfluous origami napkin, releasing it with a forceful flap across his lap.

"Are you trying to tell me you've been interfering in my life?"

"I wouldn't label it as interference. Rather, I've been… keeping watch over you and Sebastian."

“So, stalking.”

"You're being intentionally dramatic," he accused, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Nova weighed up the ethical implications of booting over a blind man's chair. It was a familiar impulse, Ominis always did have an uncanny talent for making her blood boil, ever since that night she had hurled Sebastian's accursed manuscript at his head. Why should tonight be different?

"What if I wanted to be assigned to the fourth floor?! You would have undermined my entire career path. How do you have such an inflated sense of self-importance, I don't need you meddling–"

Her berating screeched to a halt as a wine bottle slid into her peripheral vision, wielded by an apprehensive waiter who knew damn well he was interrupting something.

"Are we ready to proceed with orders?"

The possibility of salvaging her dismal evening with alcohol was ripped out from under her feet as he poured an outrageously small quantity into their glasses.

She shifted her focus to the pretentious drivel scattered across the menu.

Are you kidding me? What the fuck is spatchcock poussin?

"I'll have whatever he's having," she sighed, allowing the leather-bound menu to slip from her hands and smack the table in a gesture of defeat.

Ominis took charge of placing their orders while Nova retrieved the wine their host had left in an ice bucket, filling her glass to a more acceptable level. She considered topping up Ominis', but he began swirling it by the stem as if conjuring a wine whirlpool served any purpose.

"If you shove your nose in there, I'm out of here."

"If you can't appreciate a fine wine, maybe you should leave anyway."

Nova let out an involuntarily laugh at the familiar contempt before she could catch herself, the sound prompting the corners of Ominis' lips to twitch upwards as he raised his drink to them.

"I'm glad you chose to come,” he said resisting the urge to inhale the aroma of his beverage, opting instead for a microscopic sip—a choice she found equally distressing. “I didn't expect you would."

"I didn't want to," Nova admitted, "but I have questions. Questions Sebastian is refusing to answer. So, here I am."

Ominis raised an eyebrow, emitting a low hum of intrigue as he gestured for her to elaborate.

"Are you aware how Sebastian reacted when you sent us those false statements last year?"

"The statements that absolved my brother to pacify my father?” he remarked with a thoughtful click of his tongue. "I can't imagine he took it well."

"He was furious. He said he should've killed you too. I wasted months trying to make him see you were just trying to keep him out of Azkaban, but he didn't care – he was determined to wipe out your family or die trying."

"Well, your persuasion worked wonders, he performed remarkably well during the trial."

"I didn't persuade him," she clenched the stem of her glass, straining to contain her irritation at his attempt to cut off the conversation. "I visit one day, and he's acting like it's all his idea – ready to sweep Anne's murder under the rug and absolve the two men responsible. When I left, I checked the visitor log and guess whose name I found?"

Tracing the contours of his jawline with his fingers, Nova noticed a faint trembling in them as he spoke, " We both know it wasn't the most thought-out plan. I didn't have much time to prepare, as you might recall. The short window we had, well, we got a bit sidetracked.”

The blood in her cheeks ignited as he dredged up the subject of their night together. She assumed the topic would be off-limits, unless he intentionally trying to provoke a reaction? It wouldn’t be a far cry from the strategy he’d used on Minister Spavin – throw her off-kilter to sabotage the line of questioning.

"Ominis Gaunt," she spat the words like they burnt her tongue. "That was the name in the guest book. How did you convince him?"

“I said no more than you.”

“Bullshit.”

"Sebastian and I have been friends for years. He trusts me."

"He doesn't love you more than he loved Anne. After that day, he changed. Improved. He started putting real effort into his rehabilitation, I want to know how you made that happen.”

"I'm persuasive," he stated flatly, dragging out his words as he sipped at his wine. "I only paid a visit because the court date was postponed. He was almost eighteen, I was convincing the warden to halt his transfer to an adult detention centre."

"And then your father pushed back the court date again. He was using it against you, wasn't he? Keeping Sebastian on tenterhooks to keep you in check?"

"You're throwing around a lot of baseless accusations."

"And as if all that wasn't suspicious enough, your father conveniently falls ill before the trial, presenting you with the perfect opportunity to spearhead the entire proceedings."

"We hold my father in our thoughts.” His words felt brittle, as if it were a sentiment he was growing tired of repeating.

Nova dropped her face into her palms, fingernails dragging streaks of red across her temples. "Are you telling me it's a coincidence?"

"I'm telling you the timing is truly unfortunate."

The dream of dispelling the darkness that Sebastian had confined her in withered away.

“I’m sorry,” Ominis’ words were hollow and useless, an imitation of what she’d wanted to hear, “I hope you understand that any information I've withheld is for your protection."

"Just tell me why you dragged me here so I can get the hell out.”

Punctual as ever, their waiter speared through the simmering hostility with two steaming plates of the most mouth-watering food she’d ever seen. Despite the pompous menu tag of Châteaubriand Pommes Allumettes, it was clearly steak and chips. Nova's mood flipped on a dime, praying Ominis would drag out his point so she could relish every mouthful.

"Where are you residing at the moment?" he asked, polishing the gleaming edge of his steak knife with the napkin draped across his lap.

Unburdened by formalities, Nova closed her eyes in sheer bliss as she bit the crispiest chip in half. "You sent me flowers, you know where I live."

Ominis scraped his fork across the plate, pinpointing and cutting a piece of steak. He prolonged his chews, granting himself the time to meticulously select his words. "I assume you'll be purposefully misconstruing everything I say..." he eventually began.

Nova squared her shoulders, poised to interpret whatever he was about to say in the most unfavourable way possible.

"When Sebastian’s trial is dismissed and the charges dropped, I hear he'll be moving in with you,” he said, tapping the tip of his fork against his plate. "It’s a rather... modest home."

She didn't need to fake her outrage, it unfolded naturally.

"Go fuck yourself, why does the size of my house concern you in the slightest?"

"You’re an apprentice healer, correct? I recently had a conversation with your superior regarding your salary, it's going to be challenging to support both of you."

She slammed her cutlery into the porcelain dish, the resulting clatter earning disdainful tuts from the sophisticated patrons neighbouring them.

A smile was all it took to manipulate my sorry excuse of a boss...

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm in the process of liquidating my father's assets. We were well-off before he died, I'll have more than enough to support both of us until Sebastian gets back on his feet."

"How long do you think it'll take? Everyone knows his name, finding employment will be a challenge."

"You settled his court case, but you can't pay off a shopkeeper to hire him?"

"He's not your burden to bear," Ominis said, gently laying down his cutlery beside his platter so he could address her earnestly. "What happened to him isn't your fault. It's mine, and I want to shoulder my share of the responsibility."

He retrieved a document from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table. The flickering candlelight accentuated the embossed Gringotts stamp, a significant sum was inscribed beneath in Ominis' distinctive, elegant handwriting.

Panic flared up Nova’s spine, "No... I don't want this."

"It's yours—Compensation for all you've endured. I want you to use it to build a life for yourself and Sebastian."

The pleading look in his pallid eyes plucked at her heartstrings, trigging an instinctive rise in her guard against the swelling tide of emotions.

"Ominis, I appreciate everything you've done, but housing Sebastian isn't about guilt or obligation. We've both lost our families, and I just want to keep him close. I won't stand in the way of his friendship with you, but I don’t want any ties to the Gaunt’s and that includes accepting this."

His hand covered hers as she tried to push the check back across the table. There it was again—the tremor in his fingers shuddering against her own. A vile recognition crawled under her skin. His father had been hospitalized weeks ago. How long and how frequent must he have been subjected the cruciatus curse to still be plagued by its after-effects?

"There will be no repercussions from you accepting this," he assured her. "I made my choice, and not a day goes by where I don't think what the alternative could have been. But you need to understand, I am the Gaunt's, and I'll wield that name to ensure no harm ever comes to you."

"Ominis," she attempted to withdraw her hand from under his, but he held on firmly.

"I’m sorry I left, but everything I wrote in that note was true. If you'd have asked—"

"Ominis," she attempted to sound assertive, but the sob caught in her throat was breaking through, "don't."

"Might I ask how you’re both finding your meal?"

Nova wrenched her hand away from Ominis', her fingers digging into the bridge of her nose at the untimely intrusion.

Her eyes descended to the chaotic scene on her plate—a disconcerting tableau of mangled steak, the blood oozing across it like a morbid river. Her gaze tracked the crimson trail, guiding her eyes to Marvolo's lower limbs obliterated beneath the weight of fallen rocks, his dying eyes locking onto hers as he weakly raised his wand.

AVADA KADAVRA.

Their dishes rattled violently as she jumped at Sebastian’s voice screaming in her mind. The incantation that had spared her life, but condemned his own.

"I think we're done here, thank you.”

Ominis settled the bill before she could gather enough composure to object, not that she’d have been able to cover the cost of her portion.

Leaving the restaurant, conflicting feelings churned within her mind.

I am the Gaunt’s

It was difficult to forget. He was draped in opulent reminders of his affiliation with the family culpable for Anne's murder, and on the verge orchestrating the deaths of both her and Sebastian. His efforts to save her didn’t reshape his identity or alter the person he sat beside as they witnessed the trial unfold.

"Will you allow me to escort you home?"

She considered apparating, but with the presence of Muggles around and her current state of mind, it seemed like a recipe for being torn apart, with giblets scattering across her home, the catacombs, the Room of Requirement... "Yes, please."

He hesitated before gesturing toward the horse-drawn carriage patiently waiting for him. "Any contact we have from today onward will be entirely on your terms, but I want you to understand that my efforts to reintegrate into your life stem from a genuine desire to remain a part of it."

"You've made your bed," she told him stiffly, "lie in it."

Ominis exchanged pleasantries with his driver and provided him with Nova's home address. Anticipating him to take the seat opposite, she begrudgingly accepted his choice to settle in beside her. Secretly relieved that avoiding the sight of his face was one less battle in her fight to maintain self-control

"As I said earlier, there's no need to be nervous.”

“I’m not.”

Ominis’ steady palm pushed down on her knee, halting the rhythmic jiggling that betrayed her unease. His skin was a searing hot brand against hers, even through the fabric of her dress. She whipped towards him, poised to unleash a snippy remark, but her heart skipped a beat when he turned to face her too.

The carriage rattled across the cobbled roads and she couldn't establish whether he was tightening his grip or if it was the vibrations of the journey. All she was certain of was the tension rippling between them was far more oppressive than it had been a heartbeat ago.

Nova slipped her fingers under the knot of his tie and dragged him to her lips before she could stop herself.

The painful reminder that he was a good kisser added insult to the injury of her unsalvageable mistake. She wanted splintered words and jerky movements to crack through his composed demeanour, but he kissed back like pure sin—slow and measured—the bitter tang of wine clinging to her tongue as he swiped his against it.

In a failed attempt to shove his face away, her traitorous hand stopped short of applying any meaningful pressure, instead settling against the warmth of his cheek.

"Look at you,” he muttered as he gripped her jaw, tilting her face back with a victorious grin. “All bark and no bite."

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1d1195 · 1 year

Text

Be My Mistake II

Read the first part here: Be My Mistake

I wasn't going to do a part two but art imitates life and all that. Just something short and quick based on recent events.

“Some tea?” She asked.

Harry’s head was aching. His nose running. The stomachache made his toes hurt. Or maybe it was the body aches that made his toes hurt. It was entirely too hot in the hotel room and way too cold in his bed. “Mm,” he all but groaned.

She smiled weakly at him, ran the back of her hand along his face. It was cool and felt like heaven. Her touch always felt like heaven. “Poor baby,” she whispered softly.

“M’so in love with you,” he murmured. His adorable face was squished against the pillow. “M’so glad you’re here.”

“Me too, baby.”

They were quiet for a few moments. She had put on some soothing instrumental music. It made the room feel like a fireplace had been lit. But Harry thought maybe that was just her presence. “You have t’go,” he mumbled.

“No, Harry. M’here,” she said.

“But s’been two weeks.”

“I know.”

Harry forgot what he was saying. She asked him if he was okay again and he said he was fine enough. She left the room for a few moments. Not because he could see it—he hadn’t opened his eyes in hours. But her presence made the warm room so cold. It made him sad. Even though she was just a room away it felt like when she was back home in the loft.

He heard his mug of tea settle on the nightstand beside his head. “Missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too, baby.”

“M’gonna throw up,” he said softly.

Once settled back in bed she turned the lights off and kept a quiet vigil beside him. One eye was opened blearily making out her figure seated on the chair just three feet from him spread out in the bed. “M’sorry I can’t sleep with you,” he whispered. He had been insistent. Didn’t want to get her sick. Although she swore it would have been worth it.

She smiled at her phone glancing at his sleepy figure. “It’s okay, Harry. Just want you to feel better.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Kitten?”

“What do you need, baby?” She asked alertly. His heart sang. The blood in his veins felt normal. For ten seconds he was totally cured. She was there and she loved him. It would be a while before she was leaving, and she didn’t mind that he was sick. She would take care of him.

His question died on his lips. He couldn’t remember when she was so gentle and sweet to him. Nothing seemed as important as her quiet words. “I uhh…” he cleared his aching throat. “I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

She smirked and nodded. Scooching the chair closer to his bedside, she ran her fingers through his hair. It made him feel so good. There was nothing like her touch. He thought about those months and years without her. The times she told him to stop, and he didn’t listen. When she told him that she couldn’t be with him if he was going to torture himself.

This must have been hard on her. Seeing him sick like this.

But she was glad she was here. If she had left it would have made her feel worse about him sitting here alone and sad that he was sick. Running his hands through his hair, getting tea and medicine, it was important to her to be here and take care of him. He wondered if she was mad about missing work—she wasn’t—because that was the whole arrangement. It was why he was surprised she was staying, even if the delirious part of his brain couldn’t make sense of it. He was just glad she was there.

“Kitten,” he whispered. His therapist told him too that he should take time for himself—he sort of thought they were in it together. Or maybe Harry was just really so oblivious to how he treated his body and didn’t fully understand that this wasn’t normal. But the part of his brain that was still functioning kind of liked being sick. Because it was the only way he was stopping. He would have to remember that at his next session. Having her take care of him like this was also a nice plus. Not that he needed to be sick for her to take care of him—she always did things like get him tea and medicine. She took care of plants and listened to him vent and vent on days he wasn’t sick too.

The homebody she was, she liked that he was sick only for the fact he was resting—she wished he wasn’t sick because it hurt his body and he didn’t need that. She would take all his pain if she could. Harry was too good to his fans and here to be sick. If his brain was working at full capacity, he would have kicked her out so she wouldn’t get sick. He would have felt bad about her missing more work or having to work through a video call. But after coming to see him that first time, nothing mattered to her more than Harry and his well-being. She could do anything she wanted, and she would do anything for him.

“Hmm?” she hummed softly. Her fingers threaded between his limp curls.

“Thanks...fo’ not saying I told y’so.”

She sighed. “Harry.”

“S’exactly what y’said, kitten,” he murmured. “M’body is tired.”

“Harry, I would never say ‘I told you so,’ when you’re sick,” she rolled her eyes.

“I know. S’why you’re the best,” he said drearily.

It was quiet. She was mad he was sick. Overworking his body. Traveling from place to place where he was getting sicker by the day. He thought he could work through it. Letting the fumes of the tour and keeping his fans happy be the medicine he needed. She knew he felt heartbroken by not performing. Rescheduling seemed horrific to him. If he wasn’t so wildly sick, he probably would have cried more about it after alerting all of social media.

He knew she was grateful for his time off. Even if it was just a small week of time. It was more than he had willingly taken in years. He wondered if that’s why she didn’t say anything. This was a blessing to her. But she was kind enough to not say it to him. She knew it broke him to let fans down.

“They’ll understand,” she whispered softly. “When you’re up there and you’re well enough to jump around like a crazy person,” she giggled. It was music. “Hearing your voice will be worth the wait,” she promised. Her voice was a lullaby. He loved her voice so much. Her words were so lovely. She meant them too; as much as she wanted him to take it easy, she really believed they would forgive him. He wished he could kiss her. But he would be really upset if he got her sick and he couldn’t take care of her.

(And when he did get her sick a week later, when she was back home, Harry was sure to fly back for his only four days off of the month. Even though she was insistent he didn’t need to. But he couldn’t leave her by herself if he tried.)

“Kitten?”

“Yes, baby? Did you remember what you were gonna say?” She asked gently. Everything about her was so gentle. It was warm and lovely. Everything about her was perfect. It was so nice to have her, finally.

All his.

“I love you.”

Her heart melted. She loved to hear those words from his lips. She felt so special to have Harry’s affections. When his heart and mind and body were pulled in thousands of directions all the time, she was lucky to be one of them. “I love you,” she said so softly. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

That was truly music to his ears.

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