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#i will simply acknowledge that i have been gone for a very long time and then also acknowledge that maybe it was for the best
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When I say it is more effective to pray for someone than bludgeon them over the head with you are wrong what I mean is this:
Almost my entire life - perhaps not during my very early childhood, I don't remember; there was a catastrophe when I was twelve that changed everything - my mother has been in rebellion against God, if not full-on apostasy.
I grew up listening to her rail and scream at God, accuse Him. Listened to her say that she knew better than He did. Accuse Him of creating evil and being a cruel God. Just - all sorts of things. I remember perhaps twice that she ever apologized for anything when I was growing up, and one of those was with a caveat. She simply did not believe she was wrong about anything, ever.
Both of my sisters have told her to her face "You are not a Christian" and cut her off entirely. When I say that I am the only person left in the world who will speak with my mother outside of a business setting, I am not exaggerating in the slightest. (Save, perhaps, with the exception of my eldest son, who likes her visits quite a bit.)
I did not bite my tongue at all as a teenager. Since I have been an adult, most of my relationship with my mother has been biting my tongue. She is one of those people whom one wrong word will set off a chain reaction that there's no coming back from. So I stayed beside her and I bit my tongue and I prayed.
I prayed. I commended her into God's hands and acknowledged her glaringly obvious faults to Him and I prayed, I prayed for her. I pray for her now. Constantly, unceasingly, every minute I am awake, supplication for her, worded or wordless.
Y'all.
Another catastrophe has arisen. Any day now, she will be homeless, carless, old and feeble and struggling just to survive. And yet.
Of late, I stopped biting my tongue as much. I started urging her to pray. I know you don't feel like you can, I know you feel dirty, I know you're still in rebellion and feel abandoned. You need to pray. You need to pray. Just start. However. Just start praying. You need to pray.
She started praying. She spent days praying. She started reading her Bible and her devotionals. She told me she spent hours on the floor praying and sobbing until she felt empty.
She's begun filling up again. She's begun admitting culpabilities that I never thought to hear from her: culpabilities that I had long recognized and thought and disapproved of, but knew it would be worthless to say so. She admits them freely and openly. She has gone from permanent vituperation to peace. She has given up sins she has held close since before I was born.
She told me, today, about the devotional: the passage on the Good Shepherd leaving the 99 and going after the 1. And how, when He returned, He bid all His friends come and rejoice with Him.
Oh, I have been rejoicing. I have been rejoicing over her for these past couple weeks.
She is still terrified, and depressed. What is looming is terrible indeed. Neither of us is at all certain that she will survive until this time next year, but if she does not, I will have no fear: I will see her again, one day. I am certain of it.
So when I say it is better to pray for those who are astray than to belabor them with accusative "You are not a Christian", I mean it.
(And personally I think that someone with an unclear understanding of Jesus but who still acknowledges Him as the Way the Truth and the Life, is probably 'closer' to being a 'real Christian' than someone in full rebellion. But maybe that's just me.)
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backjustforberena · 2 days
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I do find it funny how they say that Rhaenys always bends to Corlys will when his ass didn’t even want to join the war and only joined because she basically told him to. It’s a relationship lol. It ebbs and flows. The only time we’ve genuinely seen them disagree in course of action was in ep 7. Idc what anyone says but refusing that marriage proposal when Viserys hurled his dying ass across the sea would’ve been impossible.
So ok, he overruled her on the succession argument ( which I’m sorry technically he can because it’s his house and name) and then he didn’t want to join the war and she was like “nah we’re pulling up lol”. That’s super balanced so like how is she hypocritical?
H answers questions that have been in her inbox for far too long.
IT IS A RELATIONSHIP. IT DOES EBB AND FLOW. IT'S CALLED COMMUNICATION. SHE'S NOT HYPOCRITICAL.
With grace, I can vaguely assume why some people think there is a power imbalance. Just on a surface level. But I also think that those people are not willing or haven't actually considered the scenes and the dynamics that they are watching or the context of when these sorts of remarks are made, either.
Criticisms I've seen have generally gone along the lines of: she didn't want Viserys to marry Laena, but Corlys pushed her, she didn't want Laenor to marry Rhaenyra, Corlys pushed her and she didn't want Lucerys to be the heir, but Corlys overruled her. Very, very basic readings of what happens, with no more depth than that. For me, I can see how not only are those very, very different examples and moments, but they are also not examples of Rhaenys bowing down the whims of her husband. Just because she is not the active participant does not mean she is not a willing participant.
My main frustration with this sort of reading, certainly with the first and second examples that I've listened (the third is an outlier due to Corlys's monopoly on the subject), is that it dumbs down Rhaenys's complexity, cruelty and frustrated ambition. It also takes away her agency and her equality with her husband. I've said before how I view her perspective to not be against either move, but simply more realistic.
She's not going to cheer Laena marrying Viserys but she is going to stand by side with her husband and say that it's the strongest match Viserys can make. She can want that match and that marriage and still be a bit bothered by it. The two can live together and probably do. To her, this is how the world works, especially at that point in her life. So, of course, she's going to be present in that decision and advocating for that course of action.
And again, she's not going to be jumping up and down about Laenor matching with Rhaenyra because there's danger in the match as much as there is achievement. But, nevertheless, she's standing side by side, nodding and giving her agreement. She can still be seduced by the idea of elevating her children and wearing a fabulous frock and sticking it to Viserys, and take some satisfaction in her cousin having to beg. She doesn't actually express a wish to veto the betrothal. She just says that she's worried about the dangers of Rhaenyra's succession.
Her powerlessness against the "system" that she buys into and props up is not the same as her being powerless against her husband. By which I mean that, her acknowledging the negative impact of these political choices is not taking away the fact that she is making them alongside Corlys. He is at the forefront because he has to take the lead as a man. Not because he's having to drag her along with it all. It's a reflection of their reality rather than their relationship, if that makes sense?
In short: in political decisions and in public, Rhaenys plays second fiddle because she's a woman, not because Corlys forces it to be that way. These are deals for Corlys to make as Head of House Velaryon. He is on the front-foot, he is the public political power in their marriage because that's how society works. In other words, it's actually pretty redundant to analyse that because it's just... normal.
What isn't normal is that Rhaenys is side-by-side with him. That he values her opinion. That she speaks. That Corlys and Rhaenys often share looks and silent communication: most notably when it comes to the betrothals of their children. There is real implication that these two have spoken, at length, about these choices and come to a united decision about it. How else can they present such a united front to their adversaries?
We don't see Rhaenys and Corlys speak privately about Laena. We barely see them talk privately about Laenor. And with the succession thing, as you say, it's his name and his house. She has no power to meddle in that succession. She cannot declare the succession for Driftmark on her own. That's not in her gift.
And again, as you say, she yells at him, tells him to get his ass in gear and they go down and declare for Rhaenyra because that is what she wants to do. That is what she thinks is right and so he is doing it for her. It's clear as day when he looks at her and she smiles at him and Rhaenyra thanks her because she's painfully aware that Rhaenys is the one who made it happen.
Rhaenys's just never toiled in "service to men". Has she been affected and degraded by the patriarchy? Yes! Big yes! They took her birthright from her. They made her roleless in a society she should have been running. But she doesn't toil to Corlys. She has never toiled to Corlys. To say so is a degradation to their marriage, quite frankly.
And it's a degradation to the awareness that Rhaenys has of the political structure around her and the agency she exerts and free will surrounding her own mind and choices. She does things that prop up the patriarchy. Yes. All the women do. She definitely does things that, in an ideal world, she wouldn't have to do. But she does that because it suits her own interests at the time. Never because a man told her to. And never to the detriment of herself and her safety and her sanity. It's always her choice. For good or ill.
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simgerale · 1 month
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me after attempting to get back into sims and realizing i had a lot more to do than play the game
#hi everyone#I’m going around hugging you all#okay now that we are gathered here today#i will simply acknowledge that i have been gone for a very long time and then also acknowledge that maybe it was for the best#i relied on sims to be my only creative activity even if i tried to write a book at the same time#and also. i prioritized sims over real life responsibilities. that’s just a deadly combination lol#but I recently noticed I just replaced sims with Netflix. with YouTube. with anything that gave me quick dopamine#literally became addicted in a sense. still am but I’ve been cut cold turkey from most everything#I get off work and go. okay I’ve done the dishes and the laundry……..I could read or write or bake….#I try to write and sometimes i get a good hour#then I read for a few hours and then get tired of it#and I made cookies Tuesday so I’m waiting for those to be gone before baking again#I’m just so pitiful that I feel BORED and don’t know what to do#so I said….. okay what if I do sims for an hour.#I downloaded some new cc Tuesday and tried to play yesterday#y’all ……………….. I can’t find the energy anymore to set up elaborate scenes and pose my sims and plan posts#I said wow… this is boring without my intervention and fake story#I said wow…….. all this for what? for tumblr? yes I created cool things and provided joy. but is that inherintly important compared to my#own joy? my own everyday activities I should be doing?#y’all I do not leave the house unless we got out to eat or shop or travel to our parents#.. I have little desire to. I’m trying to find that desire#but my husband is busy with grad school and work and I don’t want to do anything by myself#I’ve found myself in one heck of a slump#I didn’t want to be human for awhile. just had no desires no interests no ambitions#I was slacking off SO HARD at work. I just had no drive to do well#I’m still working on it. I’m still trying to get caught up. I’m still trying to force myself to move every day.#but I am struggling y’all. and I can tell you that sims… sims isn’t helping rn but I want it to so bad. I want to get back into it#I didn’t mean to disappear on everyone. I got married and then life got busy and then I fell into this hole of nothing#I didn’t even WANT to crawl my way out. but my husband has helped a lot. I feel like such a child!!!!#I reached max tags. 🙃 bye love you all. till next time
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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A Thought™️ that I had last night and shared in the Discord server, that I’m now going to share here more fleshed out.
CW for implied/mentioned dubcon, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship dynamics, objectification, and reader anxiety. Oh and Simon being Mean.
You belong to Johnny — one of his toys, essentially. Like a cock ring or a vibrator but better because you also serve as a little companion pet. Someone that Simon got for Johnny to pour all that overflowing love and tenderness into when he just… can’t handle it. When he starts wanting to hurt Johnny in Very Bad ways past the lines they already walk, only because Johnny wants to dote on him.
So Simon got you as a gift for Johnny.
And he gets to dote on you, chatter to you, soothe you, fuck you. It’s a weird “relationship” you two have. Johnny pouring so much into you while you awkwardly try to reciprocate and tolerate. A bit like a child’s beloved long-suffering pet. Simon lets Johnny drag you everywhere, dress you up, babble on about you. Put in all that attention and energy when Simon is needed (or simply just focused) elsewhere. Johnny’s happy as a peach, Simon gets a bit of a break, and you’re a soft-spined thing that’s stopped crying and whining for the most part so wins all around.
You and Simon’s relationship is nonexistent. Just a matter of logistics. You’re one of Johnny’s toys that Simon got for him, end of. You interact with him only so far as 1, following the rules of captivity; 2, keeping Johnny happy; and 3, being used as a reward or punishment to be given or taken away.
And the two of you are respectively fine with that. You follow Johnny around, speak almost solely to or through him. Are not acknowledged by Simon unless Johnny’s showing you off.
Until Johnny is gone for a Period of Time. A mission, most likely.
While he’s away, you treat it as a sort of vacation and just avoid Simon, don’t even ask when Johnny will be back. Until one day you’re going about your business, kind of bebopping along in your own little world. And almost run directly into Simon.
Blink in surprise, hurriedly skirt around him, pulse skipping. “Excuse me,” you say, soft and melodic (a voice you specifically use to soothe and neutralize) and then pad away quickly.
It flips something in Simon’s brain. Like a cat seeing a bit of interesting movement. Locked on, tail swishing.
You’re just so… shy. Even with Johnny you’ve always been a bit reserved, but with Simon you studiously avoid eye contact with his very person - in a way he can’t even get Johnny to do in the deepest subspace. You’re just this quiet little thing that lives in his house, and it’s like it only just occurs to him.
Simon starts finding ways to hem you in against counters and walls, making you squeeze past in hallways. You try to be so so careful of his Sacred Personal Space because Johnny’s gleeful shared stories (and shown you evidence) about how Simon “handles” touching without permission. You’ve no interest in being on the receiving end of any of that, thank you very much.
But then Simon starts showing up all over the house to watch you like a specimen — you devoid of Johnny. You’re so normal and functional. Snacks and tv shows and novels. Bird watching in the windows. Napping in Johnny’s room. Cooking and cleaning up after yourself.
He starts taking up all the space you just got back. Fills up a room with his presence alone. Squishes you in on the couch until you’re nearly falling over the arm just to maintain that sliver of no-contact.
Gets to the point that he even growls at you when you pass too close, just to hear you squeak and watch you dart off with a mumbled, “sorry!”
“Make us a cup of tea,” he says as your futzing in the kitchen on morning.
You’re so used to being ignored that you don’t respond, mouthing words to some ditzy song stuck in your head. He grunts in annoyance and takes two long strides towards you — not that he needs to, your head snapped up halfway through the first.
“Oop,” you breathe, scrambling away from the counter.
“The hell are you going?” He ask, voice purposefully gruff.
“I, um… I thought… that you needed something…?” you explain, pointing at the cabinets you were just in front of.
“I need a fucking cuppa.”
You blink.
He reminds himself that you’re not trained like Johnny. But that doesn’t mean you’re getting away with anything.
“Do I need to spell it out for you?”
A double blink as you seem to process. “O-oh! Uh, sure. The black cup right?”
You shuffle back to your previous spot and reach into the cabinet, up on your toes because Simon put it a shelf higher than usual. Seem to actually be waiting for a response as you hold the mug up in question. He just stares.
And there goes the nibbling - a nervous habit that tears up your bottom lip. Still, you keep going, filling the kettle and tapping your fingers nervously at the sides as you wait.
“Earl Grey?” you ask.
He grunts. You look a little frustrated about that, if you should take it as a yes. Decide that it is and fish a sachet out while the water’s heating.
While you wait, you try to continue what you were doing before - making yourself a little parfait - but Simon’s stationed himself in such a way that you can’t get to the cutting boards without asking him to move. And you really, really want some of the fresh fruit he bought yesterday.
“Um…” you start.
He crosses his arms, seems to loom without ever taking a step closer. You fidget, fingers twisting in the long sleeves of your jumper.
“I need — could… could you…?” You’re flushing brighter and brighter, eyes darting all over so fast he’s surprised you’re not dizzy. “Could I get by… um, into that cupboard… please?”
He takes a single half step to the side. Your eyes actually get a bit shiny as you blink, confusion and anxiety welling up. But you keep it together enough to awkwardly angle yourself, get the cabinet open just a sliver, and maneuver a cutting board out.
Simon realizes you’re holding your breath the entire time, until you’re once again a safe distance away. He snorts softly as you pluck a tiny paring knife from the block and get to work on cutting up your assortment of fruits.
“Who the hell said you could have a knife?” he demands.
You pause, give him a truly baffled look. “Um… no one said I couldn’t? I just, uh, use them sometimes. Johnny’s taught me tricks. Or-or tried to anyway…”
It’s the most he’s ever heard you speak. Your tone catches between appeasement and genuine confusion. You finish cutting a strawberry into cubes, then send him a worried glance.
“Am I… not supposed to…?”
Because you know that it doesn’t matter how things normally are. What matters is how Simon wants things to be.
“Put that down.”
You do. He strides towards you and as always, you’re quick to make way. He takes up the knife to finish paring and jerks his head at the the stove.
“Tea’s almost done. Take care of it.”
You jump as the kettle starts to whistle, murmur a quick “oh, shoot!” as you hurry to finish making his tea. By the time you’re done, he’d cut all the fruit and stolen a handful as a toll for his “help”.
Hasn’t actually put any of the fruit in your waiting yogurt, though. And the dishes are still there on the counter, along with detritus of unwanted bits like strawberry tops.
He takes a sip — made just the way he likes.
“Next time, dont make me repeat myself,” he barks.
You jump nearly a mile, blueberries rolling across the counter.
“Y-you repeated yourself?” You ask, hurrying to catch the berries before they hit the ground.
“About the tea,” he explains impatiently.
You blink for a second. “Oh! I thought you were on the phone. Sorry.”
He grunts. And doesn’t leave. After a moment, the pressure of his stare seems to get to you.
“Was… there anything else…?” you wonder.
“I’d tell you if there was,” he replies, flat.
You swallow, press your lips together, then continue with your task, shoulders a little tenser than before. When your parfait is finished (and dishes are in the machine) you escape to the dining table to eat in peace. He gives you two solitary bites before he’s at the corner next to you, and your spoon clinks against the bowl in surprise.
Well.
Isn’t this a fun game?
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ronwestbreeze · 2 months
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you're gonna go far | 10
pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. word count: 3.9k
read on AO3
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You eventually decided to forget your body for now and leave it to Norm to take care of it. All you were focusing on was burying yourself further into work.
Which included going back to tending to your garden by planting and replanting a few seeds and veggies. Then there was checking up on the baby who was bound to be due soon, you’d spend the last few hours of the day with her until eventually, you forced yourself to sleep in the Avatar Compound.
That was your schedule throughout the next couple of days. Along with that, you took on more work to distract yourself such as restocking more link shacks and taking care of the land along with the other avatars. It was one of the many deals the humans made with the People in exchange for letting them stay instead of going into exile. It kept you busy whenever you didn’t need to tend to your garden. Any free time that you happened to have would’ve been filled up with something else to keep you busy.
The only peace you got was at the end of the day when you were in the tank room.
“I’m sorry I’ve been gone, little one.” You said to her the first night you returned to Hell’s Gate. “I was unfortunately a bit distracted. But now I’m here and I’m never leaving you that long again. That is, until you’re born of course.”
There was a subtle shift in the stomach, bringing you a slight sense of comfort that she still remembered your voice. You didn’t know why it was comforting though. You wouldn’t be the one to hold her in the end. You probably wouldn’t be able to see her much once she was with her rightful parents…
Stop—stop.
Then there was foraging.
You enjoyed wandering around the forest to both discover new things and become well acquainted with the familiar routes. Going to your mother’s grave, finding the shack you had been trapped in, and even venturing further out just to see what was out there. Things you’ve missed.
It would’ve been nice if there was some comfort to all of it. But it made you forget. Made you think less. That was enough for now.
Until you eventually had to return to the clan’s base for Mo’at’s checkups. And not wanting to anger the Tsahik, you went anyway despite your reservations about it. All you could do was pray you didn’t run into Jake during the short visit.
So when you saw Tsu’tey with his brother inside her hut, you were strangely relieved which quickly made your stomach churn at the very thought.
His brother, Arvok, noticed you first as Mo’at was working on his abdomen. Surprisingly, he offered a white yet tired smile your way, “Ah, my savior the dreamwalker! I thought I was dreaming before.”
He ended up sitting up a bit as he spoke but Mo’at forced him to lie back down, “Hold still.”
“No need to thank me. It was nothing.” You mumbled, face impenetrably impassive.
“Nothing?! I heard you died because you saved me. How is that nothing?” Arvok sat up a little again only for his head to be forced back down by an irritated Tsahik.
You tried not to acknowledge the younger male’s words. Tsu’tey watched you for a beat before nudging Arvok’s shoulder gently, “Mawey, tsmukan.”
Not bothering to try and understand what he had said, you muttered again, this time sternly, “As I said, it was nothing—frankly, you should be more worried about yourself and the person who stabbed you.” Finding the new topic, you quickly steered the conversation in that direction. “By the way, who injured you in the first place—”
“That is none of your concern,” Tsu’tey said simply with his face somewhat screwed into his usual scowl.
You nodded expectantly, “Yeah, I thought so.”
Arvok then nudged his arm, hissing at him in  Na’vi. Tsu’tey didn’t appear happy but spoke again, “It is clan business. Something that you should not concern yourself with. You have been too involved enough as it is.”
“Ha!” Mo’at huffed earning a glare from the Olo’eyktan. She did not offer more and continued tending to Arvok.
“Well,” You frowned, clenching and unclenching your hands. By then you realized you were still standing while the other three were much closer to the ground. “I did get poisoned by this clan business but you’re right. I suppose it is none of my concern.”
At this, Mo’at finally stood and scowled at the two of you—more specifically Tsu’tey, “If this is how your interactions will be during this time, then I must ask you to leave and come back when you are ready to speak with her correctly.” She gestured for Arvok to sit up—albeit slowly—and dismissed him, “You must continue resting. It will be a long while before you can hunt again.”
“Yes, Tsahik.” With a grumble, Arvok slowly pushed to his feet, the wince clear on his youthful features. But he looked better. Better than you had expected someone to have been stabbed to look. Then again, Mo’at must’ve been working on him while you had been unconscious—dead—so he had time to get better.
He held his abdomen gingerly as he walked past you, sending you a quick nod before he finally left. “You!” At that, your attention turned back to Mo’at who was now pointing at the spot Arvok had been, “Sit. Now.”
Obediently you sunk to the floor and allowed Mo’at to start her work on you. Tsu’tey surprisingly didn’t leave and just lingered in the background much to your dismay. But your body wasn’t tense because of his presence. You were constantly glaring at the doorway, waiting for him to show up at that point, waiting with your guard up, waiting for yet another fight with that damned asshole.
“You shouldn’t be putting so much strain on this arm. You should be resting as well, let yourself get adjusted to your new body.” Mo’at instructed sternly as she applied new green mush to your arm.
You winced, both at the subtle sting in your arm and the easy way she mentioned your transference. As if it was another day. You couldn’t tell whether that pissed you off or made you quite relieved that at least someone was making a huge deal out of it. You’d already cried everything out of your system. Now you just wanted to allow yourself to feel numb.
Just until everything came back up again. If it ever would.
In the corner of your eye, Tsu’tey shifted onto the mat further behind you.
Mo’at pressed her hand against your arm, “Have you buried your former body yet?”
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Why are you asking me that now?”
“Some questions will be hard to answer. It is the way of life.” She replied easily as she began unwrapping the bandage on your shoulder. “But it is okay to not be ready. Are you not read, dreamwalker?”
“Sure.” It was all you offered.
You left the body to Norm now. You made him swear not to tell you where he planned on putting it. And you were okay with that.
You were fine—you were fine—you were fine—
Eventually, after enduring a long silence—which you were quite comfortable with—Mo’at finished and stood. You moved to get up as well but she pressed her hand down on your shoulder and shook her head, “You speak with Olo’eyktan first. Then you leave.”
With that, she stepped out of the hut and you, after great reluctance, looked over your shoulder at Tsu’tey to find him slightly sitting hunched over on the ground, playing with something in his fingers.
You weren’t going to speak first. He wanted to speak with you. You would wait for him.
And eventually he did, “When Mo’at brought up the potential—that you could be our fourth mate—what did you think?”
The question startled you. It was the last thing you ever thought he’d ask. And the fact that it was Tsu’tey himself asking you this and not Neytiri or hell, even Jake.
But you remained on guard anyway, “Do you care?”
At that, he raised his gaze from whatever was in his hands to look at you, “Many people have made their opinions known about the matter. All but you. It’s as if your voice is drowned out by an unforgiving storm. I am asking you, dreamwalker. What do you think of it?”
For a moment you considered your words carefully. The conversation wasn’t adversary so you lowered your defense, only by a little bit. And as you thought about your answer, you realized you hadn’t even had the chance to think about what you truly thought about the idea of being their fourth mate. Neytiri had mentioned them looking for one long ago but you never imagined it would be you. You never imagined—
You never imagined you’d be loved.
And because of that, it was simply never in the cards for you. Even if there were moments where you—
“Why doesn’t it matter anyway?” You glared down at your fingers, watching as your nails dug into your palms. “Can you honestly imagine us as mates? I mean have you thought about it yourself? Can you even imagine Jake and I as mates? After the other night? Tsu’tey, I think the answer’s pretty clear.” You faced him, jaw tight and your voice quiet despite your steeled spine, “I’m too broken. And it would be cruel—I am not cruel and I’m not selfish enough to allow you three to drag yourselves to the bottom because of me. And that’s what I think. It’s quite simple actually—”
“To your human mind, yes.” Tsu’tey shook his head and stood, turning his back to you. He paced for a moment, eyes searching the room until he finally spoke. “But it is about duty. If Eywa has favored you then I must do my job as Olo’eyktan and honor that. If you are our fourth—”
“You don’t know that.”
“You are right, I do not!” He hissed but stopped, almost as if he were restraining himself.
You clenched your hands together again, glaring down at the matted floor. For a moment, the two of you were silent. This had to be the longest conversation you and Tsu’tey had ever had. And of course, it was about something heavy, something complicated, something difficult to even comprehend. Why couldn’t it have been something simple? Why couldn’t things be simple?
“I have failed my people.”
A beat went by and you looked up, wondering if that was all he had to say only to find his gaze on you. Intense and yellow. Unreadable yet uncomfortable to receive, nonetheless.
But his face was gentle as he spoke. His voice was quieter, “And in some ways, I feel I have failed our Great Mother. I feel I have failed my mates. My son. My unborn children. My mother. My brother. My father. Perhaps you do not understand it, dreamwalker, but it is my sworn duty to do what I must for my clan. To be the leader that they deserve. And I am not.” He stepped forward until he was standing in front of you and dropped something into your hands.
It was pretty. A handwoven string of beads and gems, almost too gorgeous to belong to someone like you. You held it limply in your hands, not wanting to touch it any further.
“I am not a good mate.” He continued, now his face unreadable. You weren’t really sure what yours looked like at the moment but you hoped it didn’t convey what you felt at the moment as he spoke.
Utter dread. Shock. And pity.
“If I had proposed to you, I would have thought that I had done right by the Great Mother.”
He said it so simply. Proposed? Tsu’tey? To you? How come he didn’t appear affected when he said these words? Why was it you that was struck frozen by this revelation?
Perhaps he was good at hiding it. Perhaps you were too.
Tsu’tey knelt in front of you and looked down at the string, his face still a mask. “I would take care of you, just as I do with my other mates. I would treat your children as my own, I would be okay with not being in love with you for the sake of duty.” Unconsciously, your fingers wrapped around the string as you took in his words. Very deliberate, very careful, very real. “But you would have said no. And I would be okay with that too. Because I cannot commit to my duty. Because I am a bad Olo’eyktan. And…” The words seemed difficult to spill out from his mouth but he forced it out anyway. “And I am not cruel enough either, dreamwalker.”
For a moment, you did not say a thing. For a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming. For a moment, you wondered if there could be a world where you and Tsu’tey weren’t hostile to each other like now. You wondered if there could be a world where you’d look at him as something more.
Because in the end, you appreciated his honesty. Frankly, that was one of the best things you liked about the Na’vi. They weren’t like humans. They didn’t hold anything back because they didn’t see a reason to.
And it made your next words clear and firm, “Your search for worthiness isn’t on me, Tsu’tey. And a proposal definitely wouldn’t have been able to fix that.” You frowned and glanced down at the string and then back at him, “That wasn’t a proposal, right?”
Tsu’tey stood then, his tail swishing behind him. “I suppose it was. In a way.” He looked at you expectantly, “And your answer, dreamwalker?”
He held a look that told you he already knew your answer. You stood as well and handed him back the beaded string with yet another impassive mask, “No. That is my answer. But you knew that.”
Wordlessly, he took the beads back, his gaze never leaving it. You stood there for a moment, feeling exhausted once more. And again, Tsu’tey allowed himself to appear the same.
Too tired for this world. Too tired to carry on.
You steeled yourself away and stood straighter, “So you agree. This isn’t what Eywa wanted.”
At that, his ears twitched, “We do not know what she wants. It has always been that way. And it will remain so.”
Nodding, you moved past him and toward the entrance, only to stop short. Your brain was muddled, your emotions were tangled, and yet you spoke clearly. “If your deity is as great as you all say she is, then I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to suffer.”
Without waiting for a response, you left. Not daring to look back. Not daring to ponder questions you’ve never thought about until now.
Enough. Enough of all of it.
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“Any day now.” You mumbled, staring bleakly down at the table as Norm was checking the ultrasound. It was weird being several inches taller than him now when in human form he had quite the height over you, “We just have to watch her closely now.”
Norm nodded, “Good, good. That’s great news. I’ll let the parents know. You good staying here for a bit?”
“Always.” You watched over the tank as Norm left the room. Tucking the tablet under your arm, you placed your hand against the class, “Can’t wait to meet you, finally. I wonder if you’re gonna be as quiet when you’re born.”
The silence was suffocating, and So were the tears. They had finally come.
God, you were so angry.
Was this really all you were worth? An obligation? Something so worthless that you needed empty protection? Was that all they saw in you? Was that all you’ll ever be to them?
You sank into a nearby chair, allowing the silent tears to fall.
It wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to be the outsider—the intruder. All you wanted was to save a bunch of trees and now you’re here. A stain. An inconvenience. Blood red on a perfect white canvas.
This baby girl didn’t deserve someone as shattered as you. She deserved the loving parents that claimed her from the beginning. Protected and kept away from your storm.
“I hope this world doesn’t hurt you, little one.” You wiped at your eyes, beaten and bruised already.
Norm eventually came back moments later. You hadn’t gotten up from the chair. He saw your dried tears and cleared his throat, “Jake said he’s already on his way, um,” He appeared careful and gentle as he spoke, “I’ll take over if you need a break.”
“You don’t have to.” Was your attempt at a protest.
But he shook his head adamantly, “No, I will. You’ve—it’s been pretty rough for you. It’s the least I can do for…”
You frowned as he avoided your gaze.
“I could’ve done better—more to save you—”
“Spellman, you're fine,” You shook your head and stood. “I don’t blame you—couldn’t if I wanted to. You’re the only one that has my back here. Well, maybe besides Neytiri.”
“Are you going then?” He asked as you walked passed him.
“Yeah, I’m gonna try to cool off. Maybe go on a walk.”
“You sure? Don’t get another chunk of your skin bitten off again. Or poisoned.”
“Ha-ha.” You responded dryly.
Deciding you wanted fresh air, you left out of Hell’s Gate and went into the forest.
You had marked the places you passed with small white strips in the past, tying them to smaller branches. It allowed you to venture further away from the base this time. And by the time the sun began to set, you found yourself at the waterfall, the same one you were at with Tsu’tey before.
And you stayed there. This time you went toward the waterfalls’ mist surrounding you the closer you got to the waterfall itself. The water moved up toward your waist until you were practically floating above water.
For a while, you stayed like this. Until night came. You stayed like this until your hair stuck to the back of your neck.
Eventually, you passed through the waterfall. Breathing out a long and delicate sigh.
These waters relaxed you. These waters made you forget.
Once you reached the other side of the waterfall, there was a rock large enough for you to hoist yourself on. And sit there. You didn’t know how long you’d stay there and you didn’t care. The world outside of this place didn’t matter to you. For a while, you just wanted to forget. To become stone.
Half alive and half buried in the ground.
That is until the world called for you to come back. Until the world wrapped its grip on you and yanked you back into reality.
Until something whizzed past your face, cutting some of the strands from your unbraided hair.
And now across from you was a spear lodged into the stone. Whoever had thrown it had great strength. Whoever had thrown had meant to kill you.
Instantly, you froze. Heart pounding against your chest, blood rushing to your ears.
“Demon!” AN unfamiliar voice shouted further away—possibly on land away from the waterfall. Quickly, you lowered yourself on the rock. Most of the water from the mountain and mist hid you, so there was a chance that the attacker couldn’t see you. “Come out and I kill you!”
You didn’t move from the rock. From what little you could hear, the voice spoke in Na’vi as if he was giving orders to someone. Which meant this guy wasn’t alone. The many splashes coming toward you only confirmed that.
As quietly as possible, you slid off the rock and toward the spear, yanking it out of the wall with what little strength you had left. A shadow then passed you as you ducked behind the rock just as a figure stepped through the waterfall. He was wearing strange armor and his war paint was different from what you had seen the Omatikaya wear. Which also told you that these warriors that surrounded you were from a different clan. A clan you were sure that weren’t reluctant in having to kill the likes of you for being human.
 The warrior had an arrow pointed and ready. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen you yet.
But before you could take your chance at escape, a quicker shadow to the right dived through the falls, aiming another spear at you.
It was so quick, you hadn’t heard the other warrior coming and barely dodged the sharp end of her spear as you slid off the rock and into the deep waters.
The spear didn’t slow and sunk into the water with you. You swam away from the two, going deeper underwater until you weren’t able to be spotted. You continued swimming away from the small enclave and made it to the other side of the waterfalls.
Praying that the mist continued to cover you up, you came up for air and climbed onto a nearby rock. You still had the discarded spear and gripped it in your hands as you hopped onto another rock—not even stopping when you heard a bunch more splashes and shouts in Na’vi coming toward you.
Once you were sure they were far enough away from you, you continued hopping on the rocks until you finally reached land. But you didn’t run, knowing that it would make too much noise. Instead, you clutched the spear to your chest and slinked into the forest, just as how Neytiri had done it when the two of you would travel through the forest together.
Be one with the forest and all that shit.
God, you couldn’t catch one break. First Jake, then Tsu’tey, and now this? It was like the universe hated you for some reason.
As quickly and as quietly as possible, you put some distance between you and the waterfall. When you got far enough, you ducked behind a thick tree, pressing your back against it while taking in shaky breaths. You kept the spear close to your chest as if it were a shield while praying that you had been quiet enough to escape.
Something sharp pressed against the side of your neck, instantly squashing any hope you had left.
“You are loud, demon.” She spoke in Na’vi. It was one of the only sentences you recognized since Neytiri used to say it to you all the time in the beginning.
You remained still, staring at the warrior in the corner of your eye.
She took the spear from your hands and tossed it to the ground, not lowering hers.
“Where is your clan, sawtute?”
Okay, she spoke a little English. Which meant this clan had lived around humans at some point,.
“I don’t have a clan.” You gritted out shakily, “And I’m not trespassing—”
“Demon! All of you!” She hissed, the tip pressing further into your skin. “I kill you and bring your head back to my clan. The rest of you demons will follow!”
You glanced toward the spear on the ground, trying to figure out how fast you’d have to move to get it and escape.
But you nor the warrior didn’t get a chance to do anything as an arrow flew through the trees and hit the warrior in her shoulder.
She stumbled back, you took the chance and grabbed the spear from the ground.
As the warrior fell to her knees, your savior stood further away behind her. Bow raised with another arrow pointed at her.
You breathed out shakily, “It’s you.”
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(i'm not adding any more people anymore!)
taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0
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screeching-bunny · 1 year
Note
Part 2 on the yandere General hcs
Yandere! General pt.2
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Pt. 1
Yandere! General is a battle-hardened leader with a reputation for being unyielding and fierce. An unapproachable force with a bloodthirsty aura present in his mannerism. So it’s no surprise that he’s out of place in the king’s banquet filled with joyous laughter and people waltzing onto the dance floor.
He feels repulsed by just being there, who cares if the royal family personally invited him, he should have stayed home. There were just too many people with ulterior motives for approaching and it didn’t help that the princess had a crush on him. God how he hated her, she just never seemed to want to leave him alone. She is a selfish little brat who whines all the time and always seems to balance others for her atrocious actions. “Please stay the night with me, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile? I’ve just missed seeing your face, I want to spend more time with you.” Yep, he really wished he stayed at home today.
Deciding that engaging in conversation with the princess was not worth it, he simply just ignored her and made his way outside to the royal garden. There, he sees a figure dancing in the moonlight. The way you moved had him transfixed and in a daze. He silently stares at them and waits for them to finish their performance. This dancer is actually you. Now the question arises, why are you dancing and in the royal garden no less? Well the answer to that question is quite complicated, actually.
Your father is a low leveled noble in the aristocratic society. Who is power hungry and strives to raise their social standing no matter what. Everyone in your family hates you and rarely acknowledges you. The reason for this is because your father cheated on his wife with a lowly maid working in his manor and conceived you. His wife, now your stepmother, was enraged by this and ended up murdering your biological mother. She was, however, never caught or tried. The only reason why she kept you around was because she thought that you would be useful for future purposes. Your family never really paid much attention to you and you have an older half sister who absolutely despises you. She treats you as if you were a dog or some common slave.
Your life was extremely miserable but the only thing that seemed to bring you happiness was dancing. You first learned to dance when you were eight. When one day you decide to sneak out of your father's manor and go visit town. Luckily for you, it was during that time that a festival was being held and you couldn’t take your eyes off of the dancers and secretly copied their moves. It wasn’t until one of them noticed you and asked if you would like to join them. Ever since then, you have been secretly going to town to learn and improve your dancing skills. It’s not like your family even cared that you were gone, heck they didn’t even notice.
Many years have passed and your love and passion for dance is still the same. This tranquility, however, did not last for long because the moment you turned eighteen your parents agreed to sell you off to be engaged to a rich but very old nobleman. No amount of begging and pleading could convince your parents to change their minds. It was always met with the same response of “Don’t you know we need the money? Why are you being so selfish?!?! How else could we raise our social status, don’t you know your sister needs this in order to have a chance with the crowned prince?!?! Just be lucky that you're alive and that we feed you!” You have never been more depressed. You’ve always dreamed of marrying for true love, you didn’t want things to end up this way.
The news of your engagement broke in high society which had helped boost your family's prestige. You had briefly met your soon to be husband and had to force yourself to not cry. After the meeting, your father severely scolded you and it was decided that the next time the two of you would meet, would be on your wedding day. Due to your family’s higher social status you were all invited to the royal banquet that was created to celebrate the country’s tremendous victory in the four year war. You’ve heard rumors about it and how it was mostly won due to the general who easily sunk ten battleships in one day.
The moment that you stepped foot into that room, you immediately felt as if you did not belong. You were so out of place and everything was just so suffocating for you. You had to go outside and take a breath of fresh air. When you made your way outside you noticed a beautiful path filled with followers and decided to follow it. There you saw a beautiful flower garden, none like you’ve ever seen before. Being there just felt so peaceful and relaxing. You couldn’t help but just live the moment and dance in the moonlit sky. During that time, everything just felt so right in the world.
After you finished your performance, someone coughed in order to get your attention. Looking to the right, your heart almost shot due to fear, it was Yandere! General. He starts to compliment your dancing and the way you shined brighter than any of the stars that night. You both chat for a few moments when he just randomly asks out of nowhere, if you wanted to marry him! You honestly could not believe this man, why would you want to marry someone you just met. Without batting an eye you quickly reject the offer and before he could say anything, one of his men went to inform him that the king wanted to speak with him. Clicking his tongue in annoyance he agrees to go and tells you that he’ll be back.
Watching him leave, you swiftly make your way to exit the garden and decide to hide out in one of the restrooms. When Yandere! General gets back and immediately tries to find you but to no avail because you successfully manage to avoid him and leave undetected. This does not deter him because he has been there to find you and orders his men to help his search. By the time that the sun starts to rise he learns almost everything about you. Your age, your family, and your engagement.
That same morning Yandere! General makes his way towards your house and demands for your hand in marriage. Your parents are unsure about what to say, on one hand you being married to the general would bring many benefits but, on the other, they already agreed to you being married to the old nobleman. Your father tells him about your engagement and Yandere! General responds calmly with, “Don't worry, I’ll handle it.” In the afternoon he mails the head of your fiancé to your parents. Welp problem solved, guess you’ll just have to marry him.
Running away in this situation is useless, the only thing that you can do is to just accept your fate. With a heavy heart, you interact with him everyday getting to know your future husband.
There were of course many protests from the upper class of society. How could someone like him marry a person of lower status? It just wasn’t right. These complaints mainly came from the princess who was the most vocal about it. She loved him so much how he could do this to her. She tried to stop the wedding of herself but Yandere! General threatened to kill her. When that didn’t work he told the royal family directly that if she tries to interfere any longer, then he won’t hesitate to rebel against the royal family. After that, all attempts were stopped.
Your wedding day is very grand, there is not one speck of dust to be seen anywhere. Everything seemed so perfect, with the best of items that only money could buy. There, in one of the rooms stood you, putting on your wedding outfit with many maids swarming you like a pack of bees. As you walk to the altar you are greeted with the smiling face of your fiancé. It felt like such a blur to you, that you could hardly even comprehend what was going on. It was as if some sucked all the air out of you.
“Do you take Yandere! General to be your lawful husband?”
“… I do.”
Pt.3
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hello, Dillo! Could I possibly get some headcannons or scenario (whatever you feel like writing) of a very bubbly, sweet, and awkward s/o that just- refuses to acknowledge they like Dally because they believe he'd never in a million years like them back? Like I'm imagining one day they're chilling with Pony and Johnny and they're not being as funny or playful like usual and the boys ask why and they just whisper "I wish I was Dally's type". So could I possibly just have something with Dally's reaction to it all?
if it's too specific or if you just don't feel like it, don't worry! <3
Not Into You
A/N: Hey, hey! This has been a long time coming, and I think it turned out sort of wonky and weird, but I'm kinda happy with it so I hope you are too! Please enjoy!
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“They said what?”
Johnny just shrugs and looks over at Ponyboy, shoving a few more fries in his mouth. The plate in front of him is almost empty already, the small pile of ketchup he’d squirted out almost gone too. Ponyboy shrugs too and takes another sip of his coke. They’re both acting way too calm for what they’ve told Dallas.
“I’m serious,” Dally repeats. “They said that? You’re not kiddin’?”
“Why would we lie about that?” Pony runs his finger around the rim of his glass, pushing the straw around as he goes. “Y/N told us they thought you could never like ‘em back because the two of you are so different.”
Dally chews thoughtfully on his own straw and leans a little farther into the corner of the diner booth. Johnny and Ponyboy look unfazed on the other side of the table, the latter doing his best to steal fries off Johnny’s plate without being caught. It doesn’t work and Johnny sends him a small glare. Ponyboy backs off and takes another drink of his soda.
“You’re bein’ serious, right?” Dallas asks again. “Cause if you’re not, I swear, I’ll kill the both of yous.”
Ponyboy rolls his eyes and Dally has half a mind to reach across the table and smack him upside the head. “We told ya we weren’t, alright? They told us yesterday when we were hangin’ out.”
Sighing, Dally stays in his seat and thinks over what to do next. Stark blue eyes trace the lines of the table and the logo on the side of his drink as he weighs his options and works on making up his mind. When he finally does, he stands up with a smug smirk.
“Where are you headin’, Dal?” Johnny asks. He swats at Ponyboy’s hand without looking away from Dallas when Pony’s fingers stray too close to his fries.
“To find Y/N,” he says simply. “I gotta tell ‘em they were wrong.”
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He finds them in the lot, kicking around a can that has definitely seen better days. They look smaller than usual. Shoulders drawn in, head down as they mutter softly to themselves. Dally starts to jog a little to cross the street and that’s when they look up. Their eyes find his and they seem to shrink a little more.
“H-hey, Dallas,” they stutter. One corner of their mouth quirks up in a smile that’s all too forced. “What have you been-,”
They’re cut off as the New Yorker reaches out for them, one hand landing on their hip, the other cupping the side of their face as he brings them close together, his lips landing on theirs. Y/N makes a surprised noise into the kiss but doesn’t pull away, so Dally counts that as a win and doesn’t let go. He’s pleasantly surprised himself when he feels their hands rise to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair and keeping him in place.
When they finally break up, they’re both smiling and breathing heavily.
Y/N looks a little lost, eyes wide and confused as they stare at Dallas, so he figures he ought to try and fix that. He leans in again and they meet him halfway and then they’re kissing again in the wide-open lot.
“You gonna explain somethin’ to me now?” Dally asks after pulling back. His thumb smooths over their cheek and Y/N leans into the touch faster than Dally thought they would. “Why in the world did you think I wasn’t gonna like you? And why did you tell Johnny and Ponyboy instead of talkin’ to me?”
Blushing, Y/N looks down at the ground but Dally gently nudges their face back up with a finger under their chin. He raises an eyebrow expectantly and the action gets a small laugh out of them.
“I just thought,” they started quietly, “that you wouldn't like me. We’re so different, y’know? I’m not really the kind of person you usually go out with. I figured you wouldn’t be into me.”
Dally rolls his eyes and pulls them into a hug, tucking their head into his shoulder. He rocks gently and squeezes them tight before dropping a kiss on their hair.
“You ever think about how none of the people I go out with ever stick around? You ever think that maybe since we’re so different we’d do well together?”
“I guess not.”
“We’ll maybe you should’ve, ya idiot,” Dallas chides without any anger or annoyance in his tone. “Maybe then I could’ve taken you out earlier.”
Y/N looks up at him, wide-eyed and shocked. “You wanna take me out? You’re serious?”
“You don’t wanna go out?”
“No! No, I do, it’s just that- you’re serious, you’re not jokin’?”
Rolling his eyes again, Dally leans in to kiss them again, pausing to talk before he connects his lips with theirs. “I’m gonna take you out. Promise. But right now, I’m just gonna kiss you.”
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stars-and-inkpots · 7 months
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Had an idea for a gale x tav thingy where gales in love with a tough black cat type tav who wont admit their feelings until gale almost gets attacked in battle and she goes crazy, afterwards she almost says “my…” and says Gale but astarion and karlach know exactly what she was going ti say and gales just all heart eyes
I wasn't sure how to go about this and then suddenly, while I was supposed to be writing a project proposal last night, I finally got inspired. Thank you for the request, and I hope I did it justice because this was such a cute idea!
Realisations | Gale x Reader
You tolerate the wizard’s company, you tell yourself. You let him explain countless magical theories to you because there was nothing else to talk about anyways. You didn’t enjoy learning about them, and you surely didn’t think the way Gale’s eyes would light up when he spoke of something that particularly interested him was endearing. Surely not, you tell yourself. You had bigger things to worry about.
Pairing: Gale/Reader
Tags: Canon-typical violence, Blood, Blood and injury, Denial of Feelings, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort (briefly)
Ao3 Link: Realisations
Word Count: 1,225
Gale is determined to stay close to you a good majority of the time. He would ramble, and you would listen to him talk, barely acknowledging him. Yet, despite your apparent disinterest, you never told him to leave you in silence. He figures that you must enjoy his company to some extent, though perhaps it’s more of a hope. He assumes, however, that you do not share the feelings that he has for you. Any attempts at flirting were brushed off; your responses short and curt. Regardless, he is more than content to simply remain beside you, sharing each new thought that comes to mind. 
So you continue walking, expression always indifferent, while Gale recounts the latest book he had been reading the night before. 
You tolerate the wizard’s company, you tell yourself. You let him explain countless magical theories to you because there was nothing else to talk about anyways. You don’t enjoy learning about them, and you surely don’t think the way Gale’s eyes light up when he speaks of something that particularly interests him is endearing. Surely not, you tell yourself. You have bigger things to worry about. 
You catch Astarion’s eyes for a moment, but you don’t notice the amusement in them before he turns back to Karlach and says something to her that you can’t hear. 
At the front of your group, Shadowheart and Lae’zel stop suddenly. Lae’zel raises a hand, motioning for everyone to stop, and you’re immediately alert. Everyone is quiet, and even in the forest you're walking through there is a disconcerting sort of silence. 
You look back at Wyll, and he moves his head slightly, gesturing to your left. When you glance over to where he nodded to, you notice the concealed threat in the bushes. Absolute cultists. 
They must know they’ve been discovered, because the forest path explodes into sound. The cultists swarm your party; and you’re thankful for Lae’zel’s constant vigilance that has ensured the cultists didn’t catch you by surprise. There’s a concerning number of them, and if you didn’t notice them, you’re sure this would have gone far worse very quickly. 
They’re fast; moving in and swiftly separating everyone from each other. They’re smart enough to know you fight better together; and in that same moment you have the sickening realisation that they probably also know exactly where- or rather who- your weak spots are. 
Sure enough, cultists begin to swarm towards Gale and Astarion. Of course, both of them are incredibly skilled, but you know they are far more suited at a longer range. They won’t last long in their current state. 
When you hear Gale cry out in pain, you’re immediately moving towards him. 
Everything is a blur. You can hear your companions shouting over the clashing of metal. A burst of fire erupts somewhere to the right of you, and you aren’t sure whether it's from one of you or the cultists. Your own blade tears through countless cultists with a brutal swing. When you reach Gale, you manage to take out two of the three that are crowding around him, while he finishes off the other, fire erupting from his outstretched hand. You stay close to him, lashing out at any enemies who dare to come near. You can tell he’s trying not to show the pain he’s in while he watches your back as you watch his. 
When all of the cultists are dealt with, you quickly turn to Gale who has taken a moment to sit down. 
“My…” you trail off, snuffing out the word before it has a chance to escape you. “Gale, are you alright?” You say instead, kneeling beside him. You don’t see the way Karlach and Astarion glance at each other, almost exasperated as they watch the two of you interact. 
He’s breathing heavily, clutching his arm close to his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks, surely,” he tries to reassure you or maybe even himself. When you gently take his arm in your hands to assess the wound, he looks up at you, completely enamoured in spite of the blood that covers you. You don’t notice his stares, too preoccupied with making sure he’s okay and calling Shadowheart over for help. 
When she finishes healing Gale, she turns to look at you, but you brush her concerned hand off. 
“The bloods not mine, don’t worry,” you answer, and Gods, Gale should not find that as hot as he does. 
She leaves the two of you to help the others with their own wounds. You help Gale to his feet, but your hands linger on his arm for just a moment longer than you need. There is no reason for this other than you just making sure he has his balance before you let go of him. 
Surely no other reason.  
---
You and your companions only continue on for a little while longer before you decide to set up camp for the night. 
Karlach gives you a look when she leaves to retire for the night, decidedly early you think to yourself, leaving you and Gale alone around the campfire. 
You finally admit to yourself that perhaps there is a reason for the slight nervousness that fills you when the two of you are alone. The realisation comes to you while you stare into the fire and think about the day’s excitements. 
You remember how worried you had been. The moment you heard Gale in pain, and how the only thing you could think of in that moment was protecting him. You didn’t even have to think about it. Perhaps, you consider, that is not the reaction that many would have when they claim to merely ‘tolerate’ someone. And perhaps, you reluctantly admit, you might actually care a great deal for the man. You bring your hands over your face and groan. 
Gods, you really do care about him, so very much. 
Gale rests a hesitant hand on your shoulder. 
“Is everything alright? You can always unburden yourself with me,” he offers, so genuinely caring. 
You look up at him, his eyes shining with firelight. 
“I think I care about you a great deal,” you deadpan. Gale laughs, cheeks dusted slightly pink.  
“Well, I would certainly hope so. I would hate to be a bother while we travel together.” But you can hear how his tone betrays him; that spark of hope that you don’t mean it in such a friendly manner. 
“No, Gale. Like, I really care about you.” You can’t say anything more than that yet, and you hope he understands. It’s taken you this long to realise this alone. You hate talking about your feelings like this- at all even, far more accustomed to keeping them at an arm’s length; like a cat who wants attention but shies away from it at the same time.
Gale smiles. He’s happy to wait for you. 
“I care about you, too,” he answers. 
He shifts a little closer to you, and you let your shoulders rest against each other. You let out a breath, a sigh of relief. 
This is nice, you decide. You don’t feel trapped, you don’t feel cornered. You feel safe and content with him at your side. And though it will take time before you can fully embrace your feelings, you know he’ll still be here when you do. 
Neither of you notice Karlach give a silent whoop of victory on the edge of camp while Astarion begrudgingly hands over a handful of coin to her.
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sleepysnk · 6 months
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there’s some things i really wanted to talk about especially regarding my account and tumblr as a whole, so i decided to finally make this post as a way to sort of vent out my feelings on some things.
i’m not gonna lie, tumblr has become a very different place from what it was. i started creating content 3 years ago and it’s gone through so many changes (much expected). however, i don’t think tumblr has really changed for the better, especially when it comes to content creators. this used to be a really safe space for me to come on and create works for fandoms that i enjoyed, but recently, that safe space hasn’t felt, well, safe anymore. there is constant discourse everywhere on this platform and i’ve found that many people here are just extremely bitter? it’s almost like it’s become a mean girl center and it makes it difficult to interact with others.
obviously, this doesn’t go for everyone. i’m not trying to come at people specifically or cause issues, but i have seen my fair share of problems with people on here and some of it is just completely ridiculous.
next, i’d like to discuss the elephant in the room and that’s the lack of interaction/support to writers. it is just mind blowing to me that we as creators have to BEG our followers to reblog or even send us asks. obviously, some people are new to tumblr and don’t understand it’s algorithm, but there are people on here who just simply chose not to reblog for some reason?? it’s not only discouraging, but it puts less confidence in writers and then we aren’t motivated to create content. i’ve said this before, but there is no reason why a 2k note fic should have only 100 or so reblogs. likes mean nothing on this platform. it’s not Twitter. i genuinely have gotten so tired of repeating myself that i don’t even say it anymore because i know it won’t be acknowledged.
i understand people have lives, i do too, but it isn’t hard to send an ask to a writer about literally anything. i think the last time i had an anon ask was weeks ago and i genuinely get disappointed when i ask for interactions just to receive nothing? no one is obligated to speak with me or send me asks by any means, but a little “hey! how are you?” goes a long way. i probably sound ridiculous, but it’s just how i feel about the matter.
another thing that bothers me is when a writer doesn’t write smut or suggestive content, they hardly get any interaction. i’ve seen it myself before and i’m not sure why people just ignore greatly written fics?? i understand that smut is the main appeal. trust me, i 100% get it, but fluff writers hardly get any attention and some of the best fics i’ve read weren’t even smut related. i’m not saying every person here has to read fluff or angst fics by any means, but it makes me sad that people write these fics to hardly get any interaction because it isn’t smut content. the least y’all can do is reblog it.
to discuss my account, i honestly don’t really feel the most happy here. i don’t have as much motivation as i used to and i have contemplated removing my account, but i have some great fics i’d rather not have be deleted. i might start a new account for a fresh start, but i’m still not 100% on it.
and if you read this till the end, thank you! i probably sound like a whiny baby but i just wanted to express some of my feelings because it’s been weighing on me a lot recently.
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dittanyinbloom · 1 year
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Baby Fever
Ominis Gaunt x Fem!MC. 11 years after the events of fifth year. Could been seen as a final part to Note Taking. But trilogy is so sweet I didn’t want to include smut.
Summary: Anne is struggling after the birth of her child, and Sebastian has too many kids of his own to give Anne the proper care she needs. Sebastian calls on you for help, but your husband Ominis insists on coming along despite his affinity for children. 13.3k long so grab some tea besties.
Warnings: 9.5k of fluff and angst and Ominis healing from childhood trauma and then about 3.5k of smut. Breeding kink but like- it’s sweet I swear. Maybe a bit of cockwarming thrown in there (Sorry, Jesus. I’ll repent later). Minors DNI!
.🍼🌿🍼
Y/N,
I hate to do this while business is booming for you, or should I say blooming? Sorry. I need a bit of humor whenever I can get it. Anne is not doing well since having the baby. She’s been on bed rest and she’s a complete mess. I can imagine you ridiculing me, but I am allowed to say such things. She is my twin after all.
Her husband still isn’t back from that work trip. My wife has been asking around the Ministry for me, but no one knows anything. He wouldn’t have missed the birth of their daughter. And she’s four days old now, the cutest thing, by the way. She's starting to look just like Anne’s baby photos.
Anyway, I’m getting off track here. Sorry if this letter is scattered. I’ve got all four of my kids here with me. Their mother has to work while I’m taking off time to look after Anne. Obviously, someone has to earn money for the abundance of school robes we’ll be paying for in the very near future. They can’t be home alone with the youngest being only one. He’s walking now! Have I told you yet? Well, standing and wobbling. He’s getting there. Gonna be the next Slytherin Quidditch Captain in no time.
All this is to say, I need some help here with Anne. Helping her and taking care of her newborn is a two-person job. My kids make it a three-person job. I’m drowning a bit in diapers and screams and tears. Think everyone here has had a tantrum today alone, including me.
Needing your help desperately, my dear sister-in-law of mine. Don’t let Ominis roll his eyes when you read him that bit. He is my brother, blood be damned.
Sincerely,
Your Most Handsome Brother-in-law
S.S.
P!S! Please for the love of Merlin, bring washcloths. Between everything I’m trying to keep up with laundry and it’s simply impossible.
You glanced over the top of the letter once you were done reading it aloud. Contrary to Sebastian’s predictions, Ominis was not rolling his eyes. In fact, he looked forlorn and pale. Not only was he worried about Anne’s safety considering her poor condition after having the child, but he was no doubt worrying about Anne’s husband who was actually quite a lovely bloke. He fit in just right with Anne and Sebastian, and he very quickly grew on Ominis despite his attempts to keep the jokester at bay. In his eyes, Ominis had enough of that energy with Sebastian and Anne, who had been handling her curse greatly in the last few years and was back to her wild self, until the pregnancy complications that is.
What Ominis refused to acknowledge was that Anne’s husband didn’t have the mischief or malice of Sebastian and Anne. He was just a golden, loveable, arguably dopey guy. His love for Anne was so pure. He bawled multiple times on their wedding day. Being gone for so long during the latter days of Anne’s pregnancy was unlike him. And to miss the birth of his firstborn child, and likely their only considering the complications, was beyond excusable. Not that he would even try to excuse it because he was truly that honest of a man!
And then there was Anne, the most heartbreaking part of the letter. The doctors had her on bed rest seemingly indefinitely. She spent the last two months of her pregnancy in that dreary bedroom. When her husband was forced onto his work trip a week and a half ago, you closed up your magical plant shop and stayed by her side until the baby was born. A girl. She was born healthy with the cutest button nose. You held her for hours after she was born while the healers and Sebastian all huddled around Anne in worry.
Once Anne was safe and resting, Sebastian had tiredly collapsed on the couch next to you. You hadn’t seen him that exhausted since you were teens still in school, causing mayhem that affected yourselves more than others. His wife had been watching over all four of their kids all day so that Sebastian could spend that moment with his twin. You put the baby girl in her uncle’s arms and the two fell right asleep just like that.
It had only been a few days, but you were wanting so desperately to get back to the little girl. And while Sebastian’s kids were a handful, to say the very least, you wanted to see them as well. You had done your fair share of babysitting those mongrels, so they were quite attached to you. Their obsession with you and inclination to always come visit and run up and down the hall of your home was actually welcomed, as crazy as that sounded.
By the time you realized you loved children and wanted some of your own, you were already deeply devoted to Ominis. Because of his past, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about having children of his own. That was fine. Sebastian seemed set on having plenty for everyone.
Ominis stood from his velvet armchair and announced, “I’ll grab the washcloths.”
“Ominis, you do not have to go.”
He had stopped in the middle of the hall to ponder it. His head shook in disapproval. “I’m going to look after Anne. You’ll look after the baby. Sebastian will pack up the Quidditch team and head home so that Anne can rest in a peaceful house. Does that sound like a plan?”
You met him in the hallway and took his hands in yours. Butterfly-soft kisses were left on his knuckles. You spoke firmly and slowly to make your point. “You do not have to go with me to Anne’s. I can take care of both. It’s okay.”
“Don’t insult me,” Ominis insisted with a harsh whisper. “I won’t faint at the sight of a child, and if Anne needs me, I will be by her side. She is my sister.”
You chuckle, lightening the room for a moment, “Oh, so Anne is your sister, but you can’t admit Sebastian is your brother.”
“That’s because Anne is my sister through and through, but Sebastian can’t just claim such a title just because his kids call you Auntie. Such a thing has to be earned! Bestowed upon!”
“Okay, okay,” you giggled and smoothed his shirt across his shoulders to calm him. “You know he only says it at this point because it gets a rise out of you. And perhaps that’s why I bring it up too. You’re cute when you go red.”
“Oh, well thank you for adding to the stress,” Ominis shortly huffed in annoyance then turned to the bathroom to grab your house’s supply of washcloths.
Usually, he went along with your playful tones unless he was really out of sorts. You frown and follow right at his heels into the bathroom. “Sweetheart, we are all stressed. I’m sorry to make light of things in such dark times, but you always say you enjoy my light. I’m only trying to help you feel better.”
“I know. But right now-“ Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can I just be alone for a moment? Why don’t you go pack up those strawberries for Sebastian’s kids? You know we won’t finish them before they go bad if they stay in our kitchen.”
With your head hung low, you trudged to the kitchen and began to ransack your cupboards for potential meals. If things were really as bad as Sebastian made them seem, he likely didn’t have time to cook properly for the kids, Anne, and even himself. A few sandwiches and the berries would make a healthy enough lunch. If Ominis was truly planning to go with you, Sebastian really could head home for a break like Ominis suggested. Sebastian could no doubt figure out dinner for his kids at his own home with the stress of Anne and the newborn off his shoulders.
“I’m sorry for snapping,” that was Ominis leaning against the doorframe to your tiny kitchen. He looked exhausted as though he fought some great battle during his moments of solitude in the bathroom. He hated this side of himself, the one that could be so cruel. With his history and his trauma from his childhood, you didn’t ever fault him for being triggered.
The entire friend group was blissful until Sebastian started having kids with his wife, which was only a year or two into having your adult jobs after graduating from Hogwarts. Ominis had gotten used to them, slightly, but now with Anne having a child, he felt like he couldn’t turn in any direction without feeling an immense guilt.
“That was hardly snapping,” you kept up your light tone. It wasn’t an act. You really weren’t fazed by his behavior. These were stressful times for everyone. “You’ve bitten me before, so I think I got off a bit lucky this time.”
His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. After all these years, you could still fluster him. It was actually one of your favorite pastimes. How much teasing could Ominis handle? You were always itching to find out.
“That- that was one time. And you- you said you liked it,” Ominis straightened from his lean against the doorframe as he stammered on, “And that was different.”
“I did like it,” you reassured him. Memories of that night fluttered back. The sting in your shoulder. The cold from the blood dripping down. Tasting metallic on his lips afterward… “Maybe if you would bite me more, I wouldn’t have to keep pressing your buttons to see which one ignites that side of you.”
Ominis rubbed his face as though he was tired of your antics, but his cheeks turning a deeper shade, nearly all red now, told you all you needed to know. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“Didn’t I just admit to doing it on purpose?”
Ominis could hear the knife come out into the cutting board. He tilted his head. “What have you been up to in here? Thought you were going to grab the strawberries.”
“Sandwiches for everyone. Doubt Sebastian has had time to make lunch yet. I’d rather make them here than amid whatever chaos is happening there.”
Then Ominis was behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder to map out where you were. It glided down to the small of your back and then snakes around the front, his other joining as his body pressed into yours from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder. His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, “Forgive me for taking my stress out on you?”
“You hardly said anything, Ominis. There is nothing to forgive.”
His lips pressed right at the back of your jaw where it met your ear. “Maybe I’m asking in advance for tonight.” Then his mouth opened. His teeth grazed your skin so lightly you thought you imagined it. And then, rather evilly in your opinion, Ominis stepped back and released his hold on you. “Hurry up with those sandwiches. I’m going to handle a few things before the trip, but I’ll be waiting by the fireplace to floo by the time you are done in here.”
Sure enough, your husband was waiting for you patiently at your fireplace after you finished packaging up the lunches. He held out a hand to steady you as you stepped up on the brick, hardly a necessary gesture, but he was being extra sweet with you while he still could.
“I put a closed sign out on the shop,” he sounded almost formal about it.
“Thank you,” you breathed out in gratitude, “I completely forgot.”
“That Alihotsy is getting a bit big for the nursery. It’s extending across the walkway. Startled me for a second.”
“Sorry. Yes. That fellow from Honeydukes is meant to come by sometime this week for it. I’ll have to write him to explain that we are looking after Anne. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if we dropped it by late at night on his doorstep?”
“Maybe tomorrow night. We’ll be too tired after this.”
You chuckled and shook your head. “You always talk me into being lazy with you. Promise you won’t talk me out of it tomorrow too?”
“I would like its leaves out of the walking path, so I promise, tomorrow night we can take it to him. I won’t drag you to bed too early.”
“But I do look forward to ending up in bed with you after.” And with that, you threw down the floo power and were transported to Anne’s bungalow in Feldcroft. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the noise. There was a baby crying, kids screaming, and footsteps pounding around on the hardwood floor.
“I said to get that thing out of here!” That was Sebastian, sounding exasperated.
“I can’t catch it!” His oldest child, who was seven going into eight now, whined back.
“Then chase it out the door! It can’t be in here. It- oh! Y/N. Thank Merlin you’re here. Popped in at an awful time. Sorry for the mess.” Sebastian, while cradling his youngest in his arms, a baby who was about a year old now, kicked a few toys out of the way so you could step off the edge of the fireplace.
“Auntie Y/N!” Three children trapped you with hugs from all around. Then behind you, Ominis popped up in the fireplace and the three were rushing to embrace him as well.
You chuckled and put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to ask, “Seb, why is there a chicken on the couch.”
“It’s on the-?” Sebastian turned and started to wave the brown chicken off of his sister’s couch. “Shoo! Shoo! You are lucky I haven’t cooked you yet!”
You rolled your eyes and pulled out your wand. “Levioso. Accio.” The brown chicken squirmed in your arm, but you held it at your hip and then turned to the three kids with an eyebrow raised. “Who brought a chicken in the house while Auntie Anne isn’t feeling well?”
None of the kids said a word, but the two oldest shoved each other while they all stared at the floor in shame. You sighed and said, “If you go and collect all the toys in the house and put them in the diaper bag, I will give you the surprise I brought.”
The kids lit up. Their guilt long forgotten.
“A surprise?!”
“What is it?”
“Ah, ah, ah. Pick up your toys first.” Then the three of them were off collecting the messing they made and putting it in their youngest sibling’s enchanted diaper bag.
You put the chicken in the backyard and came back to see Sebastian and Ominis having a chat on the couch while the baby while trying to pull itself up on the side to join in. Ominis flinched when the baby grabbed his pant leg. You were quick to dive down and pick the little one up, grunting as you did so.
“My oh my, you have gotten big! What are they feeding you? Rocks?”
“That one’s gonna win the World Cup. I just know it. Gonna be the best Beater there is.” Sebastian played with the baby’s chunky ankles while you held it. It cooed back at him as if it understood and agreed.
You laughed and moved the baby to your hip to then use your free hand to touch Ominis’s shoulder. “You wanna go check on Anne while we set up the picnic for the kids outside?”
Ominis nodded and stood up to leave. He seemed thankful to have an excuse not to join the chaotic lunch plans.
Sebastian smiled wide. “Am I hearing this right? You brought lunch?”
“Just some sandwiches and strawberries. Figured you hadn’t had the time.”
With an exasperated sigh, Sebastian leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “You thought right. It’s been… a lot. The baby is sleeping now, I mean, the other baby, the newborn, Anne’s baby.” Sebastian paused for a second then whispered, “That’s still so crazy for me to say. I’m so happy for her.”
“You and your cousin are going to be the best of friends!” You told the one-year-old on your hip. So close in age. How fun! They’ll only be a year apart at Hogwarts. Bet they’ll get into even more trouble than we did.”
Sebastian covered his face and groaned. “Merlin, don’t say that. They already make me crazy as it is. Can’t imagine how I’d handle them being as wild as us.”
“Sebastian, there was a chicken on the couch when I got here. You may want to mentally prepare yourself for all sorts of Hogwarts shenanigans.”
Meanwhile, Ominis was knocking on Anne’s bedroom door and waiting to hear her voice before letting himself in. Sebastian’s kids were still being rather loud, but the decibel levels had greatly depleted. Ominis shut the door gently, but firmly, hoping to trap out any further noise. Their little feet could still be heard scampering about the echoey wooden floors as they searched for their abundance of toys to put away.
“Thought you two must have arrived,” Anne sounded exhausted. Ominis’s heart immediately ripped in two. He hadn’t heard her voice so raspy since they were teens. Anne had mostly healed from her curse. At around the ten-year mark, she decided she wanted to try for a child. She and her husband were happy and head over heels in love. They just wanted one child to share the love with. The risk was great with Anne’s past, but she didn’t want some retched curse to stop her from living her life the way she dreamed.
“And it was a good thing we did. Sebastian’s kids were terrorizing your home.”
Anne laughed at that, though it was quiet and airy. “They are just playing, Ominis. That’s why kids do. Not a dull day around here lately, that’s for sure.”
“Still, I’m sure you could rest better if it was quiet.” Ominis took a step to the right, meaning to meet her at her bedside.
“Wait-,” Anne croaked out, causing Ominis to freeze. “The bassinet is on this side. Come around to the other.”
Oh, right. Ominis swallowed thickly. He had forgotten about Anne’s baby for a moment. The room was so peaceful. It was hard to believe a child was in here with them. “Right, sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, Min,” Anne reassured as Ominis walked around to the other side of the bed. “Just didn’t want to bump into it and wake her. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” Which was Anne’s way of gently warning him that the baby was probably going to cry for food soon that way he didn’t panic when he heard it.
Ominis cautiously sat on the side of Anne’s bed and asked, “Anything I can get for you? I’m here to look out for you, and Y/N is going to look out for the baby once she feeds Sebastian and the kids and sends them home.”
“Honestly, I was dying of boredom before you came in. Just you being here is enough.” Anne placed her hand over Ominis’s and squeezed. “And how is my Y/N doing? How’s the shop coming along?”
There was a thankful sigh of relief from Ominis’s lips at the subject change. He could talk about you and the shop for hours. “We’re loving it. She put me to work though with all the upkeep. I’m regretting cutting back my hours at the Ministry. At least they didn’t make me sweep.”
Anne’s soft chuckle sounded much closer to her normal self this time. Ominis let some of the tension in his shoulders release from knowing Anne wasn’t feeling too much pain at the moment.
“You know, they would take you back full-time in a heartbeat if you offered.”
“No, no,” Ominis quickly backtracked with a smile, “No, trust me, being at the shop is a walk in the park in comparison to the Ministry’s paperwork. The half of my week there is like a vacation. Besides, it’s right next door to the house. No travel sickness. And the greenhouse smells lovely. Much better to work in than those dingy offices.”
“Hey now, don’t talk bad on those dingy offices. I can’t wait to get back to them in a few weeks. I’ve already planned on how to reorganize mine. Bit of spring cleaning.”
Whatever was going on with Anne, Ominis had assumed it was to do with the curse. Hearing her so confidently say she would be back to work soon made Ominis tilt his head in confusion. Was she being her stubborn self, or were things not as bad as Sebastian’s letter made it seem. It was always hard to tell with the twins. Anne played everything off as fine, but Sebastian acted like Anne’s paper cuts were life-threatening.
“Planning to get back there so soon? Well, don’t strain yourself. The office will still be just as meek and dusty no matter how long you wait.”
“Suppose so. Might be nice to spend some extra time just with her.” Ominis couldn’t see it, of course, but he knew Anne was referring to the baby in the bassinet on the other side of the bed.
There was a soft knock on the door, and with Anne’s approval, you cracked the door open just enough to peek your head in. “Up for a few visitors? The kids want to say goodbye one by one. I’m including Sebastian in that category too, of course.”
“Hey!” Could slightly be heard from the hallway.
Then, one at a time, you allowed the kids to give their Auntie Anne a kiss goodbye. Lastly, Sebastian went in with his youngest in his arms. Anne chuckled at the red stains on the baby’s hands and shirt from the strawberries. She could picture how it probably mashed the berry in its hand before shoving it in its mouth and likely missing its mouth entirely so that the strawberry ended up mostly on the ground. Her heart tinged a bit. She wished she could have joined them for lunch and not been forced to stay in her tiny bedroom.
“Get some rest,” Sebastian mumbled as he kissed her forehead.
“You too,” Anne replied. “Thank you for looking out for me these past couple of days, but go home and relax. Ominis and Y/N will take good care of us here.”
Then Ominis felt a hand on his shoulder. By the way it lightly massaged him, he instantly knew it was his wife. She leaned in close to whisper to him, “I’m going to walk Seb and the kids home to make sure none of them wander off. They’re a bit ornery today. Will you be okay without me?”
A pang of guilt stabbed him in the stomach. Ominis hated that he was the one you were worried about leaving while Anne was quite literally bedridden. It was embarrassing that you felt as though you needed to check in with him before taking a quick walk just a few houses down to Sebastian’s place. His…affinity to kids was bad, he knew that, he knew that you knew that and that’s why you were being overly protective. Still, it hurt his ego just a bit.
“Take your time. We’ll be okay here,” Ominis whispered back, trying his best not to sound short. If there was any uneasiness in his tone, he knew you would drop everything to comfort him. That couldn’t happen now. Sebastian might have needed your help walking the kids back, but Ominis knew that it was partially an excuse on your part to spend more time with them. He didn’t want to take that from you.
The baby, well, Anne’s baby was sleeping anyway. Sebastian’s was blowing raspberries while Anne was cooing a goodbye to it.
He waited until he heard the front door close to admit to Anne, “You asked how she’s doing… I don’t think she’s happy.”
“With the store?” There was a hint of terror in her voice as if Anne feared it was something worse.
After a moment of silence, Ominis shook his head no. “I can tell she wants more. She grew up in a big family and then Hogwarts was always just as loud and chaotic. At first, I think she appreciated the peace and quiet after we got our house, but lately… Lately, I wake up in the middle of the night and she’s gone. She goes and falls asleep by the gramophone in the living room as if she needs the noise for comfort.”
A gentle hand touched his shoulder as Anne said, “Oh, Ominis…”
“I think she would be happier if she were with someone that could provide what she wanted, but she’d never admit that.”
“No, she wouldn’t. I know you can’t see the way she looks at you, but you’re her world. Don’t ever even suggest such a thing to her. It would shatter her. She is happy with you, just you. We’ve talked about it before, she and I. She is content with being an aunt to Sebastian’s kids, and now my girl. Please don’t worry over this in the slightest.”
Anne’s comfort eased his pain, but the guilt of it all still weighed him down. They chatted for a while about Sebastian’s wife and her exciting job until you made it back to the house. You leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and listened to the two old friends talk for a while before interrupting, “Do you want to have a bath while I change your sheets for you, Anne?”
“Is that your way of saying I smell?”
“Your hair is a bit of a mess,” you joked as you walked up to her side of the bed and gently moved the bassinet so that you could help Anne up.
At the sound of shuffling and Anne wincing, Ominis offered, “Do you want me to-“
“It’s alright,” you said, suspiciously quick. “Us girls have got this. I’ll just set Anne up in the bath. Do you want to start removing the blankets?”
Ominis stood from the bed and started to remove the covers at your request, albeit a bit reluctantly due to his confusion and frustration. Why didn’t you let him carry Anne to the bathroom? It wasn’t like the intimacy mattered. He couldn’t see.
Wordlessly, he carried the laundry to the back porch and then felt through the linen closet for another set. The two of you met back in Anne’s room at the same time. You kissed his cheek and took the fitted sheet from him to start unfolding it. That was the only covering you managed to get on before the baby stirred in the bassinet. It started to cry out, loud and demanding. Ominis flinched and clutched the blanket he was holding while you scooped the baby up in your arms.
“Oh, that sounds like a hungry cry,” Your voice was soft and unfazed by the cries. “Come on. To the kitchen, we go. I’m going to show your Uncle Omi how to make a bottle for you.”
Ominis tensed at that. “Why? I thought we agreed that I take care of Anne and you take care of…her.”
“If we really are going to be here the next few days helping out, you might as well learn.” You didn’t say anything more as you headed to the kitchen. It was up to Ominis whether or not he followed.
And follow he did with a heavy sigh. Anne’s kitchen was far more spacious than your own. He still hadn’t mapped out where everything was since it all seemed to spread apart. There was even room under the south-facing window for a breakfast nook area that had the perfect view of Feldcroft. You stared out at it wistfully. Down the way a bit, you could make out Sebastian’s two oldest digging away in their front yard. They had told you on the walk back that they had been trying to dig to the center of the earth. You had laughed and told them they would need a pretty long ladder, but you didn’t discourage their determination.
“Do you want to hold her while I grab the-“
“Just tell me where it is,” Ominis insisted, sounding a bit exasperated. His heated tone made you giggle. When you first met him, he used to always be on edge like this. There was a cold exterior about him that was snappy and sarcastic. In his defense, Sebastian was putting him through a lot at the time with his unforgiving plight to find a cure for Anne. But you didn’t mind it then just like you didn’t mind it now. Ominis was complicated, and that’s what drew you in.
“A step forward and to your left. Should be a cylinder tin on the second shelf of the cupboard.” Your direction was easy to understand and deeply appreciated.
Sometimes at work with the Ministry, Ominis would ask something like, “Which one?” Only for his coworker to inevitably reply something stupid like, “The green one.” He never had to prod you for more information. If only he could bring you everywhere to direct him like this. Though, maybe not while you held a crying baby in your arms.
“I’m putting an empty bottle right beside the tin here. But first, we need to set up the kettle.”
“Are we making tea for Anne?” This he was familiar with even in Anne’s kitchen. Ominis made quick work of taking the kettle from the stove and filling it in the sink.
“Just heating up the water a bit. Not too hot. I’ll show you how to check the temperature after we’re done. While that’s heating, you can measure the power. There should already be a scooper in the tin. Two scoops should be plenty. She’s still so tiny.” You took a moment to admire the baby girl in your arms. She really was the spitting image of Anne.
While you rocked her to soothe her cries, Ominis poured two scoops of the formula into the bottle and tried not to grimace at the sour smell of it. Now he understood why babies smelled the way they did. It was a mix of this awful powdered milk and the starchiness of baby powder. Very off-putting and unpleasant.
“Water should be warm enough now. I’ll tell you when to stop pouring. Go slow,” you directed. You stopped him just at just a quarter full and reached to touch the bottle to feel how hot the water was. “Just a splash of cold water and that should be perfect.” Ominis brought the bottle to the sink and literally just let the smallest splash into it. You giggled and prompted, “Okay, maybe two splashes.”
Next, you handed him a clean top for the bottle which he took a moment to stir on straight then asked, “Are we done here?” in a very bored tone.
You smiled as you shook your head and clicked your tongue. “Always so impatient, my love. The powder needs to be mixed in. You’ll have to shake the bottle and-“ Ominis started shaking the bottle immediately, wanting to get this over with. Formula sprayed out of the nipple and got on the kitchen floor, Ominis’s hair, and your face. He froze, realizing his mistake.
Your laughter was so intense that you doubled over, clutching the baby to your chest so that you wouldn’t drop her during your fit. Ominis was blushing, but the sound of your laughter made him smile sheepishly.
“I am an idiot,” he proclaimed.
“Yes, yes your are. You have to cover the tip of the nipple.”
“Excuse me?” Ominis sounded almost offended. You laughed harder, not being able to take much more of this.
“That’s what the rubber part of the top of the bottle is called! It’s not like I came up with it!” After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you reached over and placed Ominis’s finger over the tip of the bottle. “Okay, now you can shake it without making it rain indoors.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled shyly.
“I love you,” you answered.
Once the formula was mixed up, it was time to test the temperature. “This part is simple. Hold out your wrist,” you told him. When he did, you guided his hand that was holding the bottle to dab the slightest bit of formula on his inner wrist. “Do you feel that?”
A flash of uncertainty washed over his features. “Yes, but how do I know if it’s right?”
You held out your wrist, lighting bumping it to his so he knew where you were. “Let me feel and I’ll tell you.”
The fingers of his free hand drifted across the palm of your open one, acting as if he wasn’t sure where your wrist was. You had a smug smile knowing it was all for show. You had made your movements very clear. He only wanted to touch your hand, but you weren’t about to call him out on that. The bottle dipped to let a drip fall on your wrist. It was like warm. Not too cold that the powder didn’t mix in properly, and not too hot that it would hurt the baby.
“This is perfect. You want to test it on your wrist again so you can remember this temperature for next time?”
He snorted and insisted there wouldn’t be a next time, but he tested the formula on his wrist once more and looked rather deep in thought as if trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed his cheek and thanked him while taking the bottle. A weight lifted off Ominis’s shoulders when the baby stopped crying in your arms. He let out a heavy sigh.
“Glad that’s over.”
“Well, get used to it because it’ll probably happen every four hours or so.”
That statement did not spark joy for Ominis, but you hadn’t been trying to. It was the truth. This was the reality of helping out Anne right now: a crying newborn.
“Let’s go check on Anne in the bath.” Now that was a statement Ominis didn’t mind. You followed him down the hallway and stood at his side while he knocked on the bathroom door.
“How are you doing, Annie?” He asked in a soft tone.
“Just fine, Min! I’ll be getting out soon. How’s the baby?”
“Ominis made her a bottle!” You cut in proudly.
Anne paused a moment then asked, “‘S it poisoned?”
Ominis rolled his eyes while you responded, “No! I watched him like a hawk. I promise! He did great!”
Anne’s laughter echoed in the bathroom. “Well, then thank you, Ominis!”
In the living room, you nestled in on the couch, using the armrest to support your elbow. Holding the baby in the kitchen that whole time had made you ache. She wasn’t heavy either, maybe six pounds at the most. You couldn’t fathom how Sebastian held his youngest all day. That baby was huge!
“Anything I can get you?” Ominis was hovering over you from behind the couch. His hand was resting on the back of it and his fingers were reaching up to brush your shoulder. It was clear he wanted to touch you, but you were holding a baby and that terrified him.
“Maybe turn on a bit of music? There’s a very fancy-looking phonograph sitting in the far corner on your left. It’s begging to be played.”
Your wish seemed to be his command. Ominis brought out his wand and used his sensing charm before pointing it precisely at the phonograph. The needle reset itself on the record and began to play a beautiful sonata. It started out with a feathery light piano that was quickly joined by a set of strings. You weren’t well versed enough in muggle music to know if it was a violin or cello, but its tender tones took the lead of the song while the piano supported the beat and background. There was just a hint of a wind instrument harmonizing with the main melody of the strings. It wasn’t prominent enough to tell if it was a flute, or perhaps a panpipe…
“Come sit by me,” you requested dreamily.
With the music and the airy sound of your voice, Ominis was lost in the moment. He kissed the top of your head then walked around the front of the couch to be next to you. The string instrument started to swell. His hand rested on your knee as he sat down and immediately inched higher and higher until his forearm bumped your elbow and he briefly wondered why your elbow was sticking out like that.
Reality came hurtling back like a bludger. His hand jolted off you as if your skin burned him. He had forgotten about the baby being fed in your arms.
Ominis hoped you hadn’t even noticed his slip up, that you were too lost in feeding the child. With the way you were talking to it, Ominis felt as though he was in the clear. You were commenting on how the baby’s hand was curling around your ring finger. It seemed to like the smooth texture of your wedding band.
“You trying to steal my ring, little one? Four days old and your mommy has already trained you to be her little niffler? Well, I’m very sorry. You can’t have my wedding ring. I love it too much. You can have your own if you choose to get married one day.”
“Anna and Sebastian are probably competing to see who can have the most mischievous child,” Ominis said mostly to himself since he assumed you were lost in your own little world.
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” you joked in return. “And you can put your hand on my thigh if you would like. It is not going to offend the baby.”
Sometimes he hated how in tune you were with him. Ominis put a hand back just below your knee and squeezed to show his annoyance with you, a move he often did to fluster you and keep your teasing mouth quiet.
The move was not working out in his favor while you were holding the baby, however. You gossiped to her, “Oh, Uncle Ominis is mad at me for some reason. I’m in such big trouble. He’s got the grumpy pout. I think he’s feeling a bit bashful that I called him out, what do you think?”
A loud thud sounded from the bathroom. Ominis was standing in a flash. You dropped the bottle beside you on the couch to grab him by the shirt, insisting, “You take the baby! I’ll go get her!”
A look of annoyance washed over Ominis's face and he defied your request, “Are you insane? Just let me-“
“She’s going to want it to be me, not you.”
For the first time since your school days, he bitterly reminded you, “I’m blind! It’s not like I’ll see anything!”
You were standing now, matching his volume. “She’ll just want a woman there that understands-“
“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have! She’s a sister to me, I understand her perfectly! She-“
“She’s still bleeding,” you whispered through your teeth, “You know, down there. That’s why she’s been on bed rest. They had to give her muggle stitches.”
Ominis paled and swallowed quickly. He had assumed Anne was hurting from the curse. The last thing on his mind was average birthing complications. “Oh.”
“Sit down on the couch and put your elbow on the armrest,” you insisted in a very angry tone that you only ever used on Sebastian when he was stepping out of line, which was very, very rare these days. Hearing you so angry sent a shiver down Ominis’s spine. He sat, but panic was bubbling to his surface when he realized why you told him to put his elbow on the armrest.
“My love, please, I’m sorry, I can’t- Don’t make me-“
“It’s a newborn, Ominis! She isn’t going to remember this moment! You can’t possibly do anything wrong. Just feed her the rest of the bottle!” Your screaming made Ominis snap his mouth shut.
You leaned down and put the baby, who was now crying from her bottle being ripped from her and all the commotion, into his arms with a gentleness that shocked Ominis. How you went from screaming at him to carefully making sure the baby’s head was supported on his arm just right, he would never know. The bottle was picked up from where it had rolled to the other side of the couch and put firmly in Ominis’s hand with a bit more fire to your placement this time around.
“Feed her. She can’t cry if there is a bottle in her mouth. Relax your shoulders. I’ll only be gone a minute.”
Then your footsteps were fading. Ominis couldn’t stop his entire body from shaking. The baby was still crying, and although the only other sound in the house was the soft piano and strings coming from the phonograph, Ominis was overwhelmed to the point of shock. The baby weighed in his arms, but not nearly as much as he expected it to. He had held Sebastian’s firstborn twice: once when it was a month old and then one other time when it had just started crawling. Sebastian’s baby was never as feather-light as the dainty little thing crying in his arms now. It didn’t even stretch across Ominis’s chest. Tiny little feet were kicking his right arm that had been white-knuckling the bottle. They were covered in fuzzy knit socks that felt soft and plush against his arm with each weak kick.
The baby seemed to kick some sense into Ominis because he realized it would stop crying if he would just hurry up and give it the bottle. At first, he tried placing it in the baby’s flailing hands, but it wouldn’t take it from him. Was holding a bottle not something babies could do for themselves? He was pretty sure Sebastian was able to hand his youngest a bottle and walk away. Why didn’t this one know what to do?!
Ominis was ready to give up, but he didn’t know how to move the baby properly or where to put it even if he had the nerve. The couch? Would it roll off? The floor? Surely that wasn’t appropriate.
“Fine! Fine,” Ominis grumbled. He set the bottle between his legs and then hesitantly touched the baby's chest and glided up to feel where its mouth was. The thing was so tiny, and even though Ominis was holding it, he still expected it to take longer to find its mouth. But before he could pull away, the baby sucked his pointer finger in and bit down. It might have not had any teeth, but its gums were still brutal!
“Ow!” Ominis hissed and yanked his finger away from the little gremlin. He shook his hand with a dramatic flair to lessen the hurt. The baby went right back to crying. “That was uncalled for.”
Finally, Ominis was able to get the bottle in the baby’s mouth. There was an annoying squeak from it sucking on the rubber, but other than that the living room had turned back to its peaceful state. The record on the phonograph was playing a more upbeat tune. All was well.
Meanwhile, you had sprinted into the bathroom panicked and breathing heavily. Anne was lying on her back near the sink, about a meter from the tub.
“Anne!” You gasped and hurried over to her.
“Oh, hey,” Anne laughed lightly, not acting injured in the slightest. “How was your domestic disagreement? I have never heard you two argue like that. It was quite entertaining.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Mostly just embarrassed. I slipped while I was brushing my teeth. Wasn’t even walking or anything, just tumbled over for no reason. Held onto the sink though, so it wasn’t too bad.”
“You need help up?”
“Yeah. My hip is pretty sore, as if it wasn’t bad enough down there already,” Anne always kept a light tone to not worry others. You understood the sentiment. She didn’t want to be treated like a child or hovered over. Sebastian used to do that to her constantly, he had gotten a lot calmer over the years, but Anne hadn’t learned to get rid of her coping mechanisms yet.
“Let me dry the floor then I’ll help you up. Looks like a hurricane happened in here. Were you playing with the bath bubbles?” You joked to put her at ease.
She sighed gratefully for your calm nature. “Maybe. It had been a while since I’ve had a bubble bath. Might have got a bit carried away.”
You dramatically dragged a towel along the floor at the edge of the tub and asked, “A bit?”
It took some patience, but you managed to get Anne to her bed. There was still only the fitted sheet in place, so you added the bedding around her and made a point to tuck her in so tight that she couldn’t even wiggle. She shoved your hands away, laughing at your antics. The two of you chatted for a bit about your new plant shop and whether or not you missed working at the Ministry.
In the living room, the light squeaking of the bottle stopped. Ominis frowned in confusion. He could feel that there was still a bit of liquid sloshing around in the glass. Would the baby start crying again? Why had it stopped eating? Fearing the worst, he set the bottle down on the couch beside him and then leaned his ear in close to make sure the baby was still breathing. He placed his hand over its chest to feel the rise and fall. The tip of his middle finger touched its chin and the bottom of his hand was over its stomach. How could something be so small?
The baby’s hands latched onto his, one grabbing his thumb and the other his pinky, holding Ominis against its chest. Ominis blushed at the contact. The hands were soft and oh, so tiny. It could hardly clasp his thumb properly. Its breathing started to slow. The record on the phonograph came to an end, leaving a soft scratching sound to fill the room.
“Alright then,” his voice was but a whisper so that he wouldn’t disrupt the tranquil atmosphere of the room. Having his hand cradled like that made his heart clench tightly and painfully. The baby’s little cotton clothes were slightly wet around its neck from the formula, but other than that, Ominis didn’t mind that his hand was trapped.
His own breathing started to slow for the first time since arriving at Anne’s place.
A few moments later, you had been sent by Anne to collect her child. She wanted to snuggle with the baby while they both had a nap. The fiasco in the bathroom had worn her out.
The last thing you expected to see was a soft smile on Ominis’s lips while he seemed to be resting. The baby was pulled in close to his chest and was clutching into Ominis’s hand. They both looked fast asleep. The sight filled you with warmth. Your eyes softened, and you nearly wanted to shed a tear. Instead of disrupting them right away, you turned off the phonograph that had been playing nothing and washed the unfinished bottle in the kitchen sink.
When it came time to finally collect the baby from Ominis, you felt slightly guilty for dragging it out for so long. He just looked so precious holding a child. It was doing things to you, making you yearn for things you had sworn off thinking about.
With the utmost care, you reached to scoop the baby out of Ominis’s arms. His left arm tightened around the child, drawing her closer to his chest.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
That was…odd. Was he talking in his sleep? You couldn’t recall Ominis ever doing such a thing.
“It’s just me, love. I’ve come to relieve you from your babysitting duties. Sorry it took me so long.”
You tried going in for the exchange again, but Ominis insisted, “Just another moment, please. Just one moment.” His voice was breaking. It was clear now he hadn’t been sleeping at all to begin with because a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. It had been quite some time since you had seen Ominis in such a fragile state. When he would open up about his family and his childhood, sometimes he would get quiet like this. In those times, he had held onto you like you were driftwood in an ocean of terror he was drowning in. The way he was cradling the baby so close to his chest now meant he was anchoring to her at this moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to take her from him, even if the baby’s young mother was wanting to see her.
The only thing you could do was sit beside him on the couch. Your head rested on his shoulder and your hand rubbed in soft patterns across his arm. A few moments later, you had to tell him, “Anne sent me to collect the baby.”
Ominis nodded and softly said, “We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer then. You can- you can take her now.”
There was a tense static in the room. The last thing you wanted to do was end this moment. Even with Sebastian’s for at born, Ominis had never asked to hold them, let alone hold them longer the few times he had been forced to.
“Why don’t you just carry her to the bedroom for me, hm?”
That was not what Ominis wanted to hear. His eyes widened with fear. “I can’t I- I don’t know how to.”
“It’ll be alright,” you were already adjusting his left arm so that he was providing better support underneath her as you spoke, “Just support her bum here. You can use your other arm too if you’re unsure. Just bring that one to cover here and- There. Now you’ve got a very good hold on her. After you get up from the couch just put it right back there where I showed you. I’ll lead you to the bedroom. Come along, now.”
Before he had time to come up with an excuse, you were dragging him up from the couch and guiding him to Anne’s room. Usually, he hated being guided places unless the situation was dire or he was in a big crowd. Sometimes people at work would try and guide from around the building. He took a bit of offense to it. If he ever needed a guide, he could just use his wand!
But now he was holding this tiny little thing in his arms, and it was alive and depending on him not to trip or bump into something. Without fighting it, Ominis let you hold his elbow and guide him across Anne’s house to the master bedroom. You had him sit in an armchair in the corner of the room as you joked with Anne, “You said, ‘Bring the baby’, and I wasn’t sure which one so naturally… I brought both.”
“You two look good like that. With her,” Anne commented as you put your hand on Ominis’s shoulder.
You were thankful Ominis couldn’t see your flush or the warning look you gave Anne. Around Ominis, you tried your hardest to avoid the topic of starting a family of your own. Your mother mentioned it every time the two of you visited her. She wanted grandkids. Usually, Anne and Sebastian were safe to converse with because they knew Ominis as well as you did. A comment like that almost felt out of character for Anne, especially since she was so protective of Ominis.
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ominis replied smoothly.
“Have you burped her yet?”
“Have I what?”
You laughed and patted Ominis on the shoulder. “That can get messy. Why don’t we let Anne do that, hm?”
“I can do it,” he offered quickly. “Just tell me how, and I can do it.”
You draped a towel over his shoulder and directed him to lay the baby against it. It didn’t take long to burp her. Ominis winced at the wet gurgling by his ear and the pungent, sour smell of the formula coming back tenfold. You giggled at his reaction and seemed to be cleaning up the baby’s face so that Ominis could go back to snuggling her.
“I’m glad you two are getting along. I’d hoped you would. After all, she’s named after you.”
A beat of silence dragged by before Ominis was able to ask, “What?”
“My little Minnie. Cute, don’t you think?” Anne smiled softly. “You were always there for me when Sebastian and I had our falling out. I appreciate you and I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me.”
“Minnie is such a sweet name,” you commented once you realized Ominis was too stunned to respond. “Perfect for this sweet little girl.”
A couple of hours went by while you and Anne chatted. Ominis didn’t move from the armchair with Minnie and never once complained about his arm going numb from holding her.
Went you stood up so go start something for dinner, an Apparation crack sounded from outside. All three of you were alert and tense, wondering who it could be. You brought out your wand and headed to the front door, but it burst open before you had the chance to get there.
“Anne?!” The desperate cry of her husband called through the house. His heavy footsteps sprinted for the bedroom. Blood and scrapes littered his face and his hair and clothes were in disarray and even looked a bit singed. “Are you alright?” He raced to embrace her.
“You’ll have to give her up now, my love,” you whispered in Ominis’s ear while Anne and her husband reunited.
With a heavy sigh, Ominis stood from the armchair and approached the side of the bed Anne’s husband was standing on. He tearfully took Minnie from Ominis then looked at Anne in disbelief.
“She looks just like you.”
Sebastian’s wife was standing in the entryway, looking just as disheveled as Anne’s husband. While you and Ominis left the bedroom to give the new family some privacy, Sebastian’s wife explained, “There was a dragon attack that led to a cave-in. He was trapped for nearly a week.”
“Lucky you were able to find him. You’re amazing, honestly. Are you okay? Do you need anything? The both of you look like you got in a fistfight with the dragon!” You told her.
“Nearly did! Its tail swung at me at one point. It’s been an eventful day. All that’s on my mind is getting home to the kids and Sebastian.”
“We’ll be heading home as well, I think. Stay safe.”
With her gone, you cleaned up a few things around Anne’s house. Ominis tagged along on your cleaning spree, but he was nearly silent while doing so. You worried today might have been too much for him, but you would decide you would wait to check on him until after getting him to the comfort of your own home.
“You can floo first, Ominis! I’ll be right behind you. I’m just going to throw this blanket in the laundry bin.”
He was gone in a smokey, green flash. As promised, you traveled just a moment later. You hardly had a second to focus on the blur of your living room before a pair of hands were haphazardly dragging you forward until a rather demanding set of lips landed over yours. In his defense, Ominis had warned you earlier that day that he would be taking his stress out on you.
“What a lovely welcome home,” you comment when he pulls away, thinking it would end there.
His voice was a bit raspy in your ear, “Tell me what you’ve been wanting, and I’ll give it to you.” And although the sound of his voice was arousing, you could tell he wasn’t talking about anything sexual. There was a pointed annoyance in his tone. The unspoken dream you’ve been trying to keep to yourself secret all these years seemed to be weighing down on the both of you.
“Ominis, I don’t expect that of you. Is this because of what Anne said about us looking good with a baby? She was only teasing, Ominis. You know I would never ask that if you.”
Lips started to trail down your neck, tasting you. Between kisses, Ominis was whispering, “So good to me. Trying to hide her desires. It’s okay. I want it too.”
“What do you mean?” You managed out between gasps. His hands were exploring every inch of your body as if he didn’t already have you memorized. It took all of your willpower to restrain yourself and pull away from him because he seemed as though he was going to continue on without clarifying if you weren’t going to make him.
He groaned as if he was the one losing out on pleasure by you pulling away. “Want it too. Wanna give you a baby,” he whined softly. The words shocked you enough that your hold weakened. Ominis took the opportunity to lean back in, but you put your hands on his shoulders to hold him at bay.
“I think you caught an illness while at Anne’s,” you say in a worried tone. The back of your fingers pressed to his forehead. “Yup, just as I suspected. You have a bad case of baby fever. I think a good night's rest will be just the cure.”
Rolling his eyes at your antics, Ominis insisted, “I’ve thought about this before, and I know you want one. I don’t need sight to know how you feel about Sebastian’s kids. You are always coming up with excuses to be with them longer. It’s okay. I’m not going to be angry if you admit it. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. I’m happy with you. I don’t need anything more. I would never ask for anything more.”
Ominis rested his forehead against yours. “I know you would never dare to ask. That’s why I’m offering.”
“And you’ll regret offering such things in the morning,” you reminded him.
“No, I won’t.”
“I know holding Minnie was overwhelming for you, but don’t let those new emotions cloud your judgment. You’ve never wanted kids before this. Just think for a moment and-“
“I have thought about it, many times. Maybe I’ve been apprehensive to the idea, but that was before. I thought it wasn’t possible for me to connect with children, that I wouldn’t be able to care for them the way a parent should. I thought I’d be cold and distant like my parents, so I didn’t want to bring a child into this world for them to feel alone and unwanted. But now, with her, I was able to care, to- to…”
“To love?” you offered
“Please say you believe me,” he sounded so lost and broken.
Your hands cupped his cheeks as you wiped away his tears of frustration. “I believe you. I never doubted that you wouldn’t be able to love our child if we had one. I just assumed you didn’t dare to let yourself try because of your parents. I love you, Ominis. Of course I want to have your children. I want them to be just as stubborn, but just as caring as you. I want them to have your sarcastic wit but also your devoted loyalty. It’s something I’ve thought about endlessly, so don’t think I’m turning you down when I ask for you to think on it just a while longer. Let the emotions from today come back down. I’ll make us dinner, we’ll go to bed. Then, whenever you are ready to talk about this, we will.”
Ominis managed to look disappointed but grateful at the same time. “I’ll think on it.”
And think on it he did, or simmer was a closer description. While you were in the kitchen, he pretended to read with his wand. There was a moment of uncertainty when he thought about how holding Minnie had made him feel. Would he be able to connect like that with his own child? But then again, how could he not? His own child would be half you, and he loved every part of you, even the side of you that thought you knew what was best for him by making him sit with his thoughts.
After a while, you brought him a cup of tea and kissed his temple. Ominis mumbled a thank you and continued to pretend to read. He could tell by the way you lingered in the doorway as you left the living room that you had used the tea as an excuse to check in on him. Instead of clueing you into his thoughts, he remained aloof and sipped his tea without showing any emotion positive or negative. The last thing he wanted was to hear you ramble about how he wasn’t in the right headspace to know what he truly wanted.
What he wanted was to be buried deep in you as he came. He wanted to, for once, not ruin his adrenaline rush by pulling out at the last second. He wanted you to have his child. He wanted a family with you, and he didn’t want to waste another second before starting it. This was something he should have done years ago.
“Dinner is ready,” you announced. There was a tremor in your voice as though you were nervous to speak to him. You spent the last thirty minutes hiding in the kitchen and wondering if he was cross with you since he hardly spoke at all when you brought him tea.
“It smells lovely in here.” Ominis played along with you, pretending not to notice your slip-up.
“Thank you. What were you reading?”
“A book that Sebastian’s wife recommended about keeping dragons.”
“That sounds intriguing.”
“It is.”
And that was all you got out of him. Ominis finished his food before you then disappeared to the kitchen to do the dishes while you sat in silence at the dining table. The wine wasn’t strong enough to keep your mind from worrying. How long would things be like this? Usually, Ominis was easy to get through to, so your arguments never lasted long. Would this remain an unspoken thing in your marriage for years to come? Forever?
You tiptoed into the kitchen with your empty plate. Ominis had done most of the dishes except for a single pan and the plate and fork in your hands. Even though you were trying to be as quiet as a mouse, Ominis held his open hand out in your direction and said, “Your plate.”
Reluctantly, you handed him the dirty dish. “Thank you for cleaning.”
“You cooked, so I cleaned. No reason to thank me. It’s only fair.”
“You’re right,” you whispered quietly.
Ominis raised his brow. “What? No comeback? No telling me how wrong I am for not accepting your gratitude? No making me think about it before I decide I want to do the dishes?”
“So you are mad at me!” You said it like it was an accusation. “I knew it. You’re being ridiculous! I’m only asking you to think on this before you decide!”
“You think I haven’t thought about it? Nearly ten years of marriage and you don’t think I fantasize about what it would feel like to hold you while my child is growing inside you?” He dried his hands on a dishrag and then leaned against the counter, looking exasperated. His volume hadn’t matched yours yet. He was holding back.
“You don’t have to do this just because it’s something I want!”
“Just because I’m scared doesn’t mean I don’t want it too!” His yell seemed to echo in the tiny kitchen.
After a second of trying to remind yourself how to breathe, you felt horrible for letting it escalate so far. Hearing Ominis was scared just made you want to comfort him. You spoke softly, “Ominis-“
“No, don’t do that. Don’t pity me and try to comfort me. Don’t use that as an excuse for us not to do this. Either you want us to have a child, or you don’t. I need you to be fully in on this as well. I’ll need you to show me how to make a bottle a few more times, how to change a diaper, and how to hold them properly. I need you to be patient with me, but I don’t want you to pity me. Is that understood?”
“I understand.” His words started to sink in. He seemed satisfied with your agreeability and turned back to the sink to finish the last two dishes. When the water cut off, you were still frozen in the center of your kitchen and trying to figure out if this was all real or a fever dream.
Ominis was humming a melody that had been playing earlier on Anne’s phonograph as he put away the pan he cleaned last. When he passed you by, a hand reached out to touch you. It dragged across your stomach to your hip and squeezed.
“If you are feeling against the idea any sort of way, now might be your last chance to speak up,” he warned, “I won’t be able to hold back tonight with this on my mind.”
“Don’t hold back-“ Was all he needed to hear before you were backed up against the kitchen counter with his lips how and heavy on yours. His approach was usually far more gentle. The two of you could kiss for hours before he’d even cop a feel. Now his hands were unbuttoning your clothes at your waistline and tugging the fabric down with haste.
This is what you’ve been dreaming of. Only a handful of times had Ominis ever devoured you in such a way. Things were more heated when the two of you were younger, exploring each other, and having uncontrollable urges. Since marriage, Ominis had calmed in that sense. You lived together, so he had the ability to take his time and appreciate every inch of you. It was always about bringing you pleasure as many times as the night would allow. Tonight was a stark contrast to those gentle touches.
Before you knew it, he had your panties around your ankles and was telling you to sit on the counter that he had just cleaned. You hopped up as told, but your position still didn’t have his approval. His fingers hooked under your knees and yanked so that your ass slid across the counter until it was nearly hanging off the edge. He smirked at the feeling of your heated core bumping into his dress pants.
“Right there. Stay right there on the edge for me.” And then he was sinking to his knees. His hands held your inner thighs to keep you from trying to close them, not that you would have.
His mouth was everywhere except the one place you wanted it so desperately. Your clit ached for attention. It seemed like Ominis would be taking his sweet time with you after all. This was usually welcomed attention, but tonight, you wanted him inside you more than anything. You didn’t even need to finish yourself as long as he spilled inside of you.
But even though your mind didn’t need an orgasm, that didn’t mean your body wasn’t craving it. Your hips bucked slightly when his nose nearly brushed against your clit. His hands held you down on the counter as he chuckled. The vibration of his laugh made you quiver.
“Don’t fall off the counter, now. Twisting your ankle won’t get you out of taking my cock. I’d just lay you on the bed and elevate your foot with pillows before filling you up.”
“Ominis,” your voice came out like you were scolding him. He’s spoken dirty before, but never quite like that.
“Just today you admitted in this very kitchen that you push my buttons on purpose to get me to snap and bite you, yet I’m the one being told off. And for what? Making sure my wife’s hypothetical, hurt ankle would be taken care of before I give her the child she so desperately wants?”
“I- oh-,” You lost your train of thought as his lips brushed against your clit before taking it in his mouth and sucking. The feeling was too much after waiting for so long. You squirmed again, this time to get away. The feeling in the pit of your stomach always felt better releasing when things had been slow and steady. Now, you could feel the tension building alarmingly fast.
Ominis took your hips trying to move as a sign of your eagerness. His tongue lapped up your wetness that had started to seep out. Then, it dipped inside of you and his nose rubbed against your clit. Your hands were gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself from flying off.
Now you were saying his name like a prayer. Your breathy pleas were quite the opposite from how you had just scolded him a few moments ago. Hearing you pant and mumble his name made him smirk. You could feel the corner of his mouth rise slightly against you. That action was enough to send you over the edge, almost literally if Ominis hadn’t been holding you in place on the counter. He kept his tongue in place to feel you pulse around it, though he was careful not to overstimulate you and ruin your high. Only when the pulsations slowed to nearly an end did he pull back and stand up.
“Such a good girl for me. Coming on my tongue and sounding so sweet.” He kissed you with the taste of your juices still on his tongue. You hadn’t even dared to let go of the counter while Ominis got to work unbuttoning his own pants. “Was gonna wait to have you in the bedroom, but I don’t think I can.” And then, he was lined up at your entrance and pushing in.
His movements were slow as he took you in an all consuming kiss to distract you from the stretch. Normally, you could handle whatever Ominis threw at you. This time, you were sitting nearly upright because of how close Ominis held your for the kiss. The position made it hard to take him fully, at least in an enjoyable way. You tried leaning back, and while that did help things start to feel pleasurable, your hand had landed in a stick of butter. The plate clanked against the counter. You immediately cursed under your breath.
Ominis, having heard the plate, had the audacity to laugh at your demise. He pulled out and scolded you, “You aren’t making a mess of my clean kitchen, are you?”
“It seems like you’ll have to wait until we get to the bedroom after all, and now I’ve got to wash my hand as well!”
His hands didn’t leave you the entire time you stood at the sink to try and scrub away the slimy mess on your hand. Even while walking down the hallway his hands were at work taking off your shirt and throwing it who knows where. Needless to say, you were both naked by the time you made it to the bedroom.
Vibrations ran down your neck from his voice mumbling while his lips were against your skin. “Lay on the bed.”
You had expected his hands to be all over you again the moment your back landed on the mattress. Instead, Ominis felt around for the pillows at the head of the bed. He tapped your hip. “Lift up.”
It was hard to deny his odd request because of how deeply you loved when he got a bit bossy like this. You lifted your bum so that he could slide a few pillows under you. The gesture seemed sweet, but entirely unnecessary. You’d been married for nearly nine years now, it wasn’t like you were delicate in the bedroom.
“You’re very sweet, my love, but I don’t need this to be comfortable. You won’t break me.”
Ominis stilled. His hand rested on your thigh. It looked as though he was debating something. “It’s not… for your comfort.”
“Then why are you- oh.” You swallowed your words when it set in. Your hips were high in the air like this. Gravity would make the mess Ominis was about to make stay inside you instead of seeping out.
“But are you comfortable like this?” Ominis ran his hand from your hip to your breast. His hand squeezing around you was faint and soft, more akin to a tender caress instead of anything overtly sexual.
“Yes,” you earnestly answered.
“You might have to stay like this for quite some time,” Ominis leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “Can you handle that?”
You nodded, then felt stupid before replying verbally, “I’m comfortable like this. I can stay as long as you think it’s necessary for it to… set in.”
His hand moved from your breast to lay over your heartbeat for a moment. A satisfied smirk spread across his lips. “Your heart is racing.”
“I might be a bit excited.”
“Oh yeah?” Both his hands smoothed down your body until they rested on your hips. He got on his knees between your legs. “Is that what people are calling it these days?” His thumb messily rubbed over your clit then dipped down between your folds to feel the sticky arousal that had been leaking out of you since the kitchen. There wasn’t much of a rhythm to his movements because he was just wetting his hand so that he could lubricate himself, but still, his hand touching you there in any capacity made your breathing pick up.
You were mumbling his name all desperate and breathy. Ominis chuckled at how needy you sounded. Giving you what you were begging for, he lined himself up, which caused you to whimper even more because his tip dragged across your clit a few times before he found your entrance. As he started to sink in, you sighed in relief. This angle was much better than sitting on the counter. With surprising ease, he nearly bottomed out. There was just a pinch of tightness that made him still for a moment.
His lips were leaving tender kisses across your chest and neck while he let you adjust to the feeling. You were mumbling into his neck for him to move, to take you. Your neediness made him want to give in to those desires, but Ominis wanted to memorize everything about this moment. The smell of sweat and sex in the air was absolutely vile, but incredibly mouthwatering all the same. He could go deeper than he ever had before at this angle, but that area felt tight around his tip. Ominis pulled out slightly and thrust back in slowly, being careful not to go too far and hurt you.
“More,” you were begging, nearly crying in the crook of his shoulder.
Not being able to deny you a second longer, Ominis started to thrust his hips. It wasn’t shallow, but he still wouldn’t let himself go further than the two of you were used to. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails lightly skimmed across his shoulders. He shivered and his hips stuttered unevenly, accidentally driving deeper into you. Immediately, Ominis pulled back and whispered an apology in your ear, but you held tighter onto him.
“Again, do it again.”
A tentative hand brushed the hair off your forehead so Ominis could kiss it. He pushed in deeper, but deliberately slow so he could listen for any signs of discomfort. His thumb found your clit again, hoping to give you a bit of pleasure to combat the fullness. The second his thumb grazed over you, your walls convulsed around his cock and your body shook erratically.
Ominis felt his own waves of pleasure building. On instinct, he tried to pull out to finish on your stomach. Your thighs wrapped around his waist to hold him in place.
“Please, come inside me. I want to make you a daddy.”
Your words made the tips of his ears go red. But now that he wasn’t so lost in the moment, he remembered the whole point of the evening, why he had made you rest your hips on a pile of pillows, and why he was able to reach this deep inside you in the first place.
“Stop me if it hurts,” was all the warning Ominis could give before his hips started to rut against you, hitting as deep as his length would allow with every feverish thrust. His pelvis was hitting your clit each time, Turning you right back into a moaning mess beneath him.
“There, right there.”
His breath was hot and heavy on your neck, “Gonna fill you up with my seed, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you just like this twice a day with your hips all high and willing to take me until we find out it worked. And then, I’m going to keep coming in you every night after to celebrate. I’ll fill you up so good, that we won’t know if it’s my come or my child growing in you that’s making you bigger.”
Talking dirty wasn’t new for Ominis, but it was rarely obscene and never, ever like this. That with how deep and fast he was fucking you made you speechless, breathless, thoughtless. You couldn’t even see straight, so you just held onto him for dear life and panted, but no breath was deep enough to fill your lungs or call you down. The tension in your entire body builds to the point that your leg was cramping. You wrapped it around Omni’s leg just to ease the pressure, but Ominis saw that as you wanting him to go harder.
So he did. His hips snapped into you hysterically. You cried out in ecstasy as another orgasm hit you like a train.
His hips faltered and he groaned as he came while your walls relentlessly milked his cock. You couldn’t stop writhing beneath him. Feeling his warm spurts of come paint your walls and add pressure made your intense waves of pleasure drag out. Ominis was on his elbows and panting, his lips right above yours. You already couldn’t breathe, but you pulled him down for a kiss regardless.
“I love you,” he gasped as he pulled away from the kiss. “Was that okay? Are you hurting? Should I get you a-“
Ominis had started to move, but your arms wrapped tighter around him and your walls clenched around his length. “Don’t move yet. Stay. Just stay.”
Seeming to understand and reciprocate your need to be close, Ominis rested on an elbow and then used his other hand to caress your body as if you were made of glass. “I’m not going anywhere, love.”
The two of you laid like that for a while just playing with each other’s hair and whispering sweet nothings. Soon, Ominis started to get hard again inside of you. He slyly shifted his hips, but his excuse of getting more comfortable didn’t work on you.
“Ominis,” you whined in an exhausted tone. How was he ready to go again!?
His kisses on your neck paused while he laughed against your skin. “Well, I did say twice a day until we’re certain, didn’t I?”
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Note
Earthspark Frenzy, Ravage, and Laserbeak start to notice that Soundwave (Aka their dad) becoming a bit more…’friendly’ with their human ally (*wink wink*). One morning, after Soundwave and the human had gone away on an ‘mission’ and and just returned to their little base in the early hours of the morning when they though the cassettes would still be in recharge, but they thought wrong. Frenzy decides to be a little shit and asks, “So~ does that mean we can except a little brother or sister sometime soon?”
I wheezed out loud at this one and then started thinking about it and now I want to write this and a whole host of other Earthspark fics invoicing human/bot babies. Thank you very much for this anon, I've been waiting for a reason Hehehehehehe...
(Headcanon Note; I fully imagine bots can knock up humans with lil bot babies that grow into full size Cybertronians. Partly because I like the idea of the Allspark creating a species that can reproduce universally as some kind of all-life-is-connected thing, and also because I just prefer alien to human babies.)
Apologies for the tangent, now on with the story! I hope you enjoy, and if you like my writing style you can always commission me!
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"Wassup?"
Hearing Frenzy's voice surprised you out of your light doze, and you snapped your head up to find the three Minis up and awake in the tiny "kitchen" you'd all set up in the main area of the bunker. Soundwave acknowledged his Cassetes with a nod, just as tired as you were after the mission that had dragged into the early morning hours. Seated atop his shoulders, you did the same, waving and trying not to yawn as you rubbed the sleep from your tired eyes.
"Morning, everyone..." you greeted as warmly as you could, grumbling stomach reminding you why you hadn't asked to head straight for the bedroom to pass out. Soundwave raised a cupped servo for you to crawl into, his sharp claws curling protectively about your tiny form as he dropped to one knee and set you down. You were too tired to care how your hand lingered on his after grabbing on for support, and found yourself smiling up at him in a bit of a daze.
"I will initiate recharge. Join me after your rations." he said simply, utilizing a much broader vocabulary for you as he often did. Frenzy made a sound like a cough, and in the corner of your eye you saw her quickly put down a cup of energon to clear her vents. Soundwave left at that, and you set about pouring yourself a bowl of cereal for some much needed breakfast before bed. Just thinking of curling up in your little spot in the crook of his arm had you struggling to keep your eyes open...
"Back so late you're early, huh Y/N?" Frenzy asked after you'd fetched what you needed, briefly confusing your tired brain before you put her words together. Sitting down at the little salvaged table, you sat opposite the three and tried to stir up enough neurons to be conversational.
"You could say that. The mission took a bit longer than we planned, but we got what we needed." you explained, trying to stay conscious long enough to pour milk over your cereal.
"We weren't too worried. The two of ya have been spending a lot of quality time together of late, we were sure you were using the night well." Laserbeak added, bobbing his helm in confirmation. There seemed to be the faintest hint of a grin on his beak, but you didn't look too deeply into the expression, even as Frenzy snorted at his words. It was quite normal for them to be amused by their own antics, so you were hardly suspicious, and didn't even notice Ravage observing you in silence.
"Guess you can't wait to get back the berth." Frenzy continued, smirking over her glass as you shoveled cereal into your mouth. Not reading into any of their questions, you nodded, thinking of how Soundwave would probably be recharging by the time you joined him. It would feel incredible to just sink in with your blankets and pillows and sleep next to his warm frame. "You two must love sharing that thing."
"Yeah, no point in wasting space." you agreed as you got to the milk at the bottom, thinking purely in literal terms thanks to sleep deprivation. A single glance would have allowed you to see that Frenzy was biting her lip to keep her giggles in check while Laserbeak did much the same, all while Ravage tried to pretend he wasn't affiliated with either of them, but you merely continued talking without a thought. "It's at such a premium down here, we're practically on top of each other half the time."
This time you recognized the sound Frenzy made as a barely restrained chuckle, but when you looked up for clarification, it was Laserbeak that spoke.
"For you and Soundwave, it's way more than half." he said with a snicker. Though their double meaning was so obvious you should have caught on straight away, all you had the capacity to do was tilt your head over your cereal, the wheels of your brain doing their best to try and figure out why these bots were acting so strange.
"What?" you pressed, your direct question coming just as Ravage swatted his tail at the avian bot.
"Nothing." Laserbeak replied with mock innocence after ignoring the hit, grin never once leaving his beak.
"He's just goofing around." Frenzy said to calm your concerns, waving off the other mini in a good natured tease. Figuring they were all just involved in a game, you shrugged and brought the bowl to your lips to finish, getting about halfway through the sweetened milk before the cassette broke the silence.
"But for real, when can we expect a little brother or sister?"
You half choked on the milk and sprayed the rest over the table, eyes bulging as you finally understood everything that had been implied up to that point.
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shadowbriar · 1 year
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George Weasley - Loved and Lost You
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Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader Word Count : 4.8k  Warning : Mention of food. One foul language. Synopsis : Fake dating gone wrong when she realises that her silly idea to help the Hufflepuff boy costs her her bestfriend. Notes : I had no idea how to end this, definitely not my best ending to date but I hope you can still enjoy it. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
“What would I do without you, truly?”
She shrugs, passing the redhead his quidditch robe, “I don’t know, actually. Probably died a long time ago.”
The boy grins, receiving the said item thankfully.
The sun was beaming, steady wind blowing that lovely morning as the Gryffindors began to crowd the quidditch field. It was another typical practice but for as long as she could remember, she has always been a constant audience of the activity. She wasn’t sure if it was purely caused by her admiration of the said sport or was there any other hidden meaning she tries so hard to bury inside her chest, but if Voldemort himself is not outside of her doorstep and threatening her with the cruciatus curse, best believe she would come and cheer for her favourite Wealeys.
Yes, Weasleys.
Though it was obvious for everyone else that she has always been more fond of one of the twins, she would always argue that they both are her best friends and that she loves them equally. Sure she has been more open with one of them, spent more time on his bed and shared more of her heartfelt stories with him, but that doesn’t mean that she has any special feelings for him. They simply connect better, like the way honey fits best with tea instead of sugar.
“Say, do you have any plans after this?” He asked, putting on his robe in the process “I was wondering if you’d like to do that Charms essay together?”
“By together you mean by copying mine?”
He grins sheepishly, “You know me best.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that before.” She says as she rolls her eyes “Meet you here after?”
“Sound.”
He ruffled her hair, the very dear habit he does whenever they’re going to part ways, before he jogs lightly to the field.
She finds herself walking to the bleacher, finding a spot next to Hermione who was trying to bite down her smile, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, don’t ‘nothing’ me, Hermione. I know something’s running wild in your precious witty brain.”
“It’s just that,” The younger Gryffindor vents, turning to her “You and George look so cute together. Whatever is stopping you two from dating? Everyone could see the heart eyes you’ve been exchanging with each other.”
She rolls her eyes, “There’s no heart eyes between us. Don’t make up words, Hermione, you know how rumours go wild in this school.”
“Oh, but there totally is!” She argues, feeling rather curbed over her emotions “George has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you and vice versa. You both are neck deep in love with each other yet refuse to acknowledge it. Merlin, you both are denying it for no reason, really!”
She turns her head to watch the game, not entertaining the younger girl any longer.
Hermione wasn’t the first to question their friendship. In fact she’s one of the least vocal about it, compared to Ginny and Harry would blurt out the questions right in front of the younger twin, making the atmosphere to be awkward for the next 2 minutes to come. It would be a lie if she never pondered about the underlying truth beneath the curious accusations their friends made, but being best friends with the Twins was all she’s known for since she first stepped in Hogwarts. She’s been the honorary third twin, so Fred called, and their close relationship has always been something of her identity. There really isn’t anything more than that.
They were all just making things up, she was sure. There’s no heart eyes, no soft gazes and George definitely doesn’t like her that way. If he does, she would’ve known about it because who else could read him like an open book? Right?
—-
Her attempt on keeping her giggles in was evidently failing as George continued to nudge her under the table. Troubles in Potion is always the worst and she wouldn’t want to get any of them detention from Snivellus, but what exactly can you expect from sitting next to one of the Twins? It would be a cold day in hell if they don’t try to tickle or at the very least make silly comments about the Professor throughout the lesson.
And as if on cue, George was pulled up from his seat abruptly, arm being yanked away by the foul Professor, “Switch your seat with Diggory. Now.”
The joy on both their faces turn into horror in the blink of an eye. George nods silently, packing his belongings. She shot an apologetic smile at him, watching him as he shuffled away from their table. Diggory, who looks surprised that his name was being called, is now walking to their table, his unfinished essays disorganised in his hands.
“Hi.”
She smiles, nodding, “Hello, Diggory.”
She glances at George, making sure that the boy wasn’t much affected by Snape’s wrest, though she knew that it would require much more than the Professor’s assault to frighten the boy. Hell, she wasn’t even sure there would ever be anything George Weasley is afraid of. That boy has always been confident and undaunted no matter how severe the circumstances he was in. Yet she still couldn’t stop herself from checking in on him. It has become an unconscious habit she picked up over the years.
George wiggles his eyebrows at her, showing his unphased state as he takes a seat. She rolled her eyes. Of course he’s still being his jesterself.
She turns her head back to her paper, only to notice Diggory’s eyes glued to a few tables in front of them. She follows his direction, raising her brows as she realises that he was watching Patricia Stimpson intently. She looks back at Diggory who still hasn’t blinked from the last she saw him.
“Is there something on Stimpson’s face that I didn’t notice?” She asks aloud, making the boy snap out of his thought “Is it only noticeable from your side of the table?”
“No, there’s nothing on her face.” He answers, cheeks turning rosy “I was just spacing out.”
She squints her eyes, noting the nervous shift of his gesture, “Are my eyes deceiving me or are you blushing right now, Diggory.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh, Merlin!” She exclaims quietly, grinning at the secret she’s just learned “You fancy Stimpson, don’t you!”
“I said, shut up.”
She nudges the boy, teasing the poor Hufflepuff who’s now trying to bury his head under his arm, hiding his face that is as red as a tomato. In no time the two strangers become close. Funny how one fortuitous action could bring the two close in no time. It was as if they’ve been friends for years.
And the sight wasn’t left unnoticed by a pair of jealous eyes.
George chews on his lower lip with anxiety. He’s never seen her grow close with someone as fast as this, not even with Lee who has been their fourth wheel for years. What is it about Diggory that seems to be such a magnet for girls? Was it his pretty face? His humour perhaps? Surely he couldn’t have better jokes than the prankster of the castle.
The redhead’s bubble of thought burst as a crumpled paper hit his head. He turned to the direction where it came, seeing his twin who’s gesturing him to open it. With a huff, he opens the parchment paper and his frown grows even more sour.
‘Losers Weepers.’
—-
She throws her head to the back as she laughs her heart out, giving George light punches to the arms. The Gryffindor table was full of familiar faces. It has been a while since the whole squad was present. With the different year they’re in, different classes they’re taking, and evidently different teenage troubles they’re facing, spending breakfast together seems like an impossible task to do. Now that everyone’s present, she couldn’t find a reason to leave the table early.
But one.
“Hey, you.” A voice calls, greeting her with a smile as she turns to face him “Ready to go?”
“Of course!”
George’s brows were furrowed, disapproving her who’s now standing from her seat, “Where are you going?”
“Oh, Cedric and I are planning to do our Potion essays early.” She explains hastily “Also, George, you wouldn’t mind switching partners with him, would you? I kinda need his help with the upcoming assignments.”
The boy blinks, completely taken aback at the wave of information and requests she’s throwing at him.
“Brilliant!” She exclaims, taking his silence as approval “Let’s go, Ced.”
The whole table was left appalled, watching as she walked away with the Hufflepuff boy. Ginny and Hermione were audibly gasping when she linked her arms with him and he ruffles her hair, skipping out of the Great Hall happily. The sight was so peculiar they would’ve preferred seeing Dumbledore wearing a bikini than to witness the situation for the second time. The things she was doing, linking arms, laughing, and getting all jumpy was a sight they would see with George, not Cedric.
Since when were the two close?
“What’s just happened?” Harry broke the silence, blinking his eyes “What’s she doing with Cedric Diggory?”
“Didn’t you hear? They’re going to do their Potions essay.” Fred comments mockingly, knowing that his twin isn’t capable of making up for an answer “I didn’t even know we have Potions essay.”
The younger twin stabs on his innocent sausage as if trying to butcher it to its death. His eyes were vacant, feeling a silly pool of knots forming inside his stomach. To know that she prefers to do Potions essay than to spend time with her literal family at Hogwarts shows exactly where Cedric is positioned in her priority list.
Disappointed would be the most understated word he’s feeling at the moment. She has never been that close to anyone but him. He had always been the one she would drop the world for yet now he could sense that the seat was filled with others. He knew that something was going on. There’s no chance in the seven hells that they simply want to do their Potions essay early. Since when does she care about Snivellus’ classes anyway? Yet the realisation only further stomps him, making him drown deeper into the pits of anguish.
“I’m sure they’re just friends, like we all are.” Hermione comments, noticing the dejected look on George’s face “There’s nothing really to be worried about, George.”
He chuckles bitterly, not looking up to see the girl, “Why would I be worried?”
The table went quiet. They all could see the sorrow bleeding out of his skin. It was common knowledge to the pack that he’s madly in love with her. In contrast to her blatant denial whenever their relationship was being questioned, George chose the more vague path of simply smiling and clinging his arms around her shoulders, showing a sign of approval but not really. As if he was waiting for her to stop denying it so he could finally shed the mask he’s been wearing all these years.
Yet it seems like he wouldn’t ever get the chance to take it off now.
“George-”
“I’ll see you guys at the field.”
The boy shoots a weak smile to the group, standing up as he picks up his satchel and exits the Great Hall. The group stares at each other, feeling the mutual sorry for the heartbroken boy. Everyone could see the quidditch robe left unconsciously on the table and yet, for the very first time, she wouldn’t be the one giving it to him later.
—-
“There’s Stimpson.” She whispered to Cedric before faking a laugh, glancing at the girl who’s just entered the Great Hall “Quick, put your hand around my waist.”
“Is that really necessary?” He comments but still does the gesture “Could she even see my hand under these giant tables?”
“Stop, Ced, you’re hurting my stomach!”
The boy chuckles, watching her fake laughter with glee, “You’re entirely something else, you know?”
She grins as she takes a bite of her toast.
The plan was in motion. The two of them have done more public display of their intimacy, indicating that a romantic affair is happening between the two without telling anyone the truth behind such actions. Cedric found the idea to be ridiculous initially, but now seeing Stimpson to be taking silent glances and frowning lightly at the sight of them together, he came to the realisation that not only is she a great actress, she’s one hell of a genius too.
Yet he couldn’t help but to notice that the green emotions were radiated not only from Stimpson but from one of the Weasley twins too. If anything, the younger twin seems to be in a different level of jealousy that everytime he looks in his direction, he would find the Gryffindor’s eyes to be throwing him daggers.
“You know,” Cedric starts, clearing his throat “As much as I’m grateful for you for this stunt, are you sure it is fine for you to be fake dating me?”
“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because something tells me that one of the Weasley twins is despising it.”
She frowns, turning to see the Gryffindor table where the twins usually sit. Her eyes met George’s for a brief second before he looked away, joining the conversation Lee and Fred was having. She notices from afar the light hue of grey underneath his eyes and how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, no wrinkles around it as he laughs.
Guilt starts to creep inside her. When was the last time she truly looked at him? He looks awful, despite still looking as charming as ever. She could tell that something was bothering him and she feels terrible for not knowing what caused it. She used to know everything about him like the back of her hand. How long has she been gone, really?
“Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two?” Cedric asks, breaking her train of thought “I really don’t want to be the cause of your ruined relationship.”
“What, no. Nothing’s going on between us. We’re just friends.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.” He argues with a shrug “I mean I’ve seen you two around. Even a blind man could tell that something’s going on between you two. Do you not reciprocate his feelings, is that it?”
“What feelings?”
Cedric stares at her with disbelief, a teasing smile tugged on his lips, “You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I'm joking?”
“He fancies you!” He exclaims with a nudge “Come on, surely you’re not that daft to see it.”
“George doesn’t fancy me.” She comments, looking away from the Hufflepuff boy to hide her blush “Why does everyone keep telling me that.”
“Maybe because that’s the truth.”
She glares at him before looking back down to her breakfast.
Her thoughts were running wild. Being told that George was in love with her by their group of friends has always been something of an ordinary. She never thought much of it as she figured it was just one of those friendly teasing you make within your group of friends. But now hearing it from Cedric who was the literal definition of an outsider makes her ponder if such words ever actually hold some meaning. Is it really that obvious for others that he hoards feelings for her?
“Look, all I’m saying is this fake dating goes both ways.” Cedric continues “On my end I get to make Stimpson jealous and it seems like it’s working so far. On yours, I think that it’s making one of the twins jealous. What I’m questioning is, are you up for such a consequence? Are you ready if he somehow changes his demeanour around you because of our fake relationship?”
She frowns, “George wouldn’t change just because we’re dating, fake or not.”
“Are you sure? Because it looks like he’s ready to hex me to death.”
“Positive.” She rolls her eyes at him “In fact, I’ll come over to their table now and show you that his actions would remain the same.”
“Bet you 10 galleons he wouldn’t.”
She shows a disapproving expression before standing from her seat, planting a small kiss to Cedric’s cheek before walking away from the Hufflepuff table. For some reason she could feel her heart beating faster, unsure if she’s more afraid to prove her words wrong or true. Neither of the outcomes seem to be pleasing for her. If George really has feelings for her then she wouldn’t know how she could live her life knowing that she’s hurt him with the fake dating. Yet if he doesn’t, why does she feel like she would crash and fall from the bitter truth?
“Morning, Gentlemen.” She greets the table “Saved a seat for me?”
“Aren’t you already secured one with the Hufflepuffs?”
Her smile dilutes, George’s cold tone poisoning her, “I’m still a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, well maybe there’s another spot open down the right.” George continues, still not looking up to her “You can join Ron and his group of friends.”
“There’s a spot right next to you, George.”
The boy picks up his satchel, placing it in the mentioned space, “Full. Sorry.”
She blinks at his callous gesture. It’s hard to believe that such words came out of his lips, the very one person who has always showered her with affection and warmth. She could see the same appalled expression shown on Fred and Lee’s faces, who didn’t expect George to be this bitter at her. Sure they know that he’s been struggling with the new sight of the couple, but never in a million years have they expected to see George being this hard to her.
“I see.” She replies, forcing a smile now “Well, I’ll see you guys at the field then.”
“Don’t even bother coming if you’re going to be with the enemy.”
“What’s got your wand in a knot, George?!” She bursts “Why are you suddenly so cruel to me?”
“Me? Cruel?” The boy questions, this time looking up to see her with angered eyes “I’m not the one tossing their friends away for some pretty boy she’s only befriended with for weeks!”
“Toss away? I didn’t come to one of your quidditch practices and you think that I’m tossing you away?” She questions, chuckling bitterly “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that being friends with you meant that I couldn’t date someone I like.”
George smirks, “At least you got that part right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You really think that Diggory likes you?” He asks, this time standing up to tower her “You really think that someone like him would ever like someone as bland like you? You’re dense if you think that he ever likes you back.”
She let out a shuddering breath, tears starting to prick on her eyes from his harsh words. George seems to realise the weight of his words too as he blinks, facial features turning softer yet still showing the much bottled anger he’s erupting. He opens his mouth before closing it again, unable to make up words to follow his last.
“Fuck off, George.” She says with a cold tone, glaring at the boy.
Fighting her tears, she walks back to the Hufflepuff table with a broken heart. The possibility that George likes her has certainly been crossed out. The words he uttered are not the ones you said to someone you like, let alone someone you love. His words were only the reflection of his jealousy and bitterness that she’s now found someone who could appreciate her as much as he does. Well, did, as she swore not to ever befriend the red head again.
She takes the seat next to Cedric, sniffling slightly, “Kiss me.”
“What?” He questions, looking worried at her teary eyes “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Just kiss me, Ced.”
And so the boy leans in, kissing her gently on the lips. For the first time the couple finally shows intimate gestures, something more than holding hands or hugs, something that further proves that the two are indeed in a romantic relationship. The stunt was witnessed by the eyes of the Great Hall. Some were gasping in awe, some raised their brows in confusion, and two were staring at the couple with a sinking heart. One having a worse anguish than the other.
—-
She chews on her lower lip, trying to focus on the words Cedric was telling but his first sentence rang in her head like a broken record. Stimpson has finally asked him for a study date, meaning that she’s finally taken interest in him. The objective of the fake dating is achieved, there really isn’t any reason left for them to keep the act.
She should be happy that Cedric could finally get the girl he’s always been pining for, yet a bigger part of her wished that Stimpson would approach Cedric a bit later. Perhaps a few weeks from now when things between her and George were already settled. When he’s finally come to her and apologise for the hurtful words he spat on her that day. She knew that there was no way that Cedric would ever like her, it’s not like she cared about it anyway, but did he really think that she was bland? That she wasn’t worth Cedric or any guy’s time? Is she really that unattractive?
“Hey, you okay?” Cedric asks, looking worried at her now “You seem off today.”
“I’m fine.” She says with a smile, taking a sip of her butterbeer “So we should end this act, then.”
He nods lightly, “I suppose.”
“Why don’t you sound happy about it?”
“Because I know things between you and one of the Weasley twins is yet to be resolved.” He explains, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze “I’m very sorry that with my uprising, comes your downfall with him.”
“Don’t be silly, it wasn’t your fault.” She rolls her eyes, smiling “We’ll figure something out. He’ll come around.”
No, she wasn’t sure that he'd come around. It has been weeks since their dreadful fight and George has made every effort to avoid her. She hardly ever saw him, not even at the Great Hall or the Common Room. It was as if he was a ghost that used to reside inside her brain, now gone into thin air as some beautiful myth she’s to tell to others.
But at the same time, George was there. He was still in their classes, still at quidditch practices, and every other activity that they used to do together. The fact that he hasn’t made any effort to fix their friendship hurts her. She didn’t realise that the foolish idea she proposed to Cedric would lead to such a devastating outcome.
And she too didn’t expect that their fight would make her realise that she’s in love with her own best friend.
Perhaps she was denying everyone’s question about their relationship because she was scared that the affection only flows one way. George has never approved nor denied the accusation thrown at him about them anyway and he certainly never made any effort to advance with his feelings should he ever have any in the first place. It was hard for her to tell if what others say was true about them and she didn’t want to have high hopes over something that he himself hasn’t approved of.
But now that the fight’s happened, how he blatantly says that she was bland, she knew that the words others say were mere lies. George had never liked her that way. She has always been a friend to him, nothing more. The affection he’s shown to her was nothing more than platonic and it broke her heart.
“So should we end it here? Right now?” She asks, taking a deep breath “The sooner we break up, the sooner you can woo Stimpson. Might want to be fast before she loses interest.”
Cedric smiles, nodding and standing up to give her a hug, “Thank you, and I hope you can reconcile your friendship with Weasley.”
She nods, waving goodbye to him who’s now walking out of the inn.
She let out a sigh, feeling pathetic to herself now at the corner of the Three Broomsticks. She’s lost George and now she lost Cedric too. Just how worse can her life be now?
Yet as if she’s spoken too fast, she saw her group of friends entering the inn. Fred waves at her, followed by Lee who calls for her name. George was standing not far behind them, seemingly not ready to meet her yet still follows the other two.
“Hello, stranger.” Fred greets, walking to her table “Long time no see. Where’s pretty boy?”
“Freddie,” She replies with a smile “Gone, we broke up.”
Fred’s smile fades, frowning, “I’m sorry, Love, I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, it just happened, actually.” She answers nonchalantly, turning to George this time “Supposedly you're happy now, aren’t you George?”
The boy didn’t say a word, only staring at her with an apologetic expression.
“You know what, I have to go.” She says, not wanting to spend any more minutes with his presence “I’ll see you guys around.”
And so she takes her purse and walks away from the table. She exits the inn in a hurry, not wanting to be followed by any of them. Her chest was tight and head loud. So many things running inside her mind and every one of it revolves around one particular ginger.
How could she face him now? How could she face him after their fight? He was being a jerk that day and now that they’ve broken up, it would only further feed his ego. Being right about their short lived fake relationship would be something George would wear like a badge of honour. She couldn’t care less about him being right, what bothers her is the fact that not only was he right but that she’s also the loser who hoped that her best friend was actually in love with her too.
Why couldn’t George be jealous the way Stimpson did? Why does he have to be jealous for a whole different reason? Why couldn’t he like her?
“Love, wait!”
She fastened her pace as she heard his voice calling from behind. No, she’s not ready to talk to him. Her head is still fuzzy from all the questions and self blame. Meeting him would only lead to another argument and she’s unsure if her quivering heart could survive another turbulence.
“Wait,” George says as he catches her arm, making her stop on her track “Please, I just wanted to talk.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk, George.” She says, still not looking at him “You’ve made your point and you’re right, no need to rub it on my face.”
“No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. What I wanted to say is-”
“Look, I’m tired, alright? It’s been a long day and I really want to get back to my room.”
“I know, this would be fast, I promise-”
“Not now, George.”
She turns her body, ready to walk away before he grabs her wrist again and turns her.
“What?!”
Before she could complain further from his persistent action, she finds herself being kissed on the lips. She could feel how tense George’s body was, in contrast to how gentle his kiss was. His eyes were tightly shut, as if afraid to see her rejection from the abrupt action. The grip on her wrist loosen, giving her the chance to pull away and shove him off if she would want to.
George lets out a nervous sigh when he pulls away. He could see her appalled expression when he opened his eyes, his blood running cold from the possible outcome of his hasty action. Would she hate him even worse now?
“I’m sorry.” He gathers, voice barely above whisper “I- I don’t know what came into me. I just-”
She didn’t let him finish his words. She pulled him for another kiss, this time showing him how to properly kiss a girl. She pulls him close, eliminating any distance between them that seems to be growing further apart lately, He hesitantly rests his hands on her waist, showing more meaning and confidence to his action. Both of their hearts were beating wild, adrenaline pumping through their vessels as they prayed that the other party wouldn’t regret this once they breath for some air.
“We have so much to talk about.” George says in between the kisses “How is this happening?”
“Less talking,” She answers short “More kissing.”
George grins through the kisses. He now has his hands cupping her cheeks gently, giving her his most possible soft caresses. Merlin knows how much he waited and prayed for this to happen. The second guessing and self doubt now has dissipated, melting away with every peck they share. At last the denial has come to a close. Both acknowledging and embracing their long hoarded feelings for each other with glee. What was once loved and lost, have now returned, giving them the chance to properly show their devotion this time.
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eagerbby · 2 years
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𝖇𝖔𝖔? 2 - 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 | 𝖊𝖒
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pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader
synopsis| What was supposed to be a prank, payback, turns into so much more.
an| I wanna thank you for the incredible amount of love I got on part 1, it truly means the world to me and as part one just reached 10k today, I'm celebrating by giving you all the much requested part 2! I wrote/edited and am posting this all in one day so I apologize for any grammar or tense mistakes
warnings| 3k, masturbating (f), oral (f), protected sex, mentions of abuse (but no actual abuse), mentions of a deceased parent, teeth rotting fluff, virgin! Eddie, 18+ only
part one
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Eddie wastes not a moment after Hellfire, cleaning up in record time and bounding to his van once he was done. The drive through the darkened streets is quiet, no radio blaring heavy metal jams out his open windows. Even his van, that on any normal day sounded ready to break down, idles softly at the stop light. Eddie is anxious with anticipation, fingers gripping the tattered leather of his steering wheel tightly as he breathes deeply in and out in an effort to cure the nausea riddling his stomach.
He knows you’re waiting for him, probably sitting on his bed reading whatever book you are currently deep into, bare legs crossed at the ankle and propped on the thin wall of his bedroom. The image has his heart pounding loudly in his hollow chest, picking up speed as the van flies down Cornwallis, slowing only slightly as he takes the right on Kerley next, the trailer park coming into view amongst the dusky sky.  
As he pulls to a stop in front of his trailer, he can see the only light coming from his room. You’re here, just like you said you’d be, and something blooms in his chest akin to desperation as he climbs out the van and walks the short distance up his rickety stairs, the cold bite of the metal door knob isn’t enough to clear the haze in his brain as he enters the darkness of the trailer.
Quiet, it consumes him as he stands next to the door, shrugging off his vest jacket combo and toeing off his shoes, his chocolate brown button eyes locked onto the orange glow casting from his cracked bedroom door. If you hear him come in, you don’t acknowledge him, and it makes Eddie wonder if you’re asleep.
He thinks if you are, there's no way he’s gonna wake you up, no matter how long he’s waited for this very moment. He’ll simply crawl in next to you, hold you close to him, and rest his eyes. It’d be enough to satisfy the suffocating need to have you for himself. If only for a little while.
But as he creeps up to the door, peeking in through the crack, he can see that you definitely aren’t asleep. No. Eddie could drop dead at the sight before him.
“E-Eddie.”
You’re stark naked laying atop his bed, which you appear to have made in the time he’s been gone, head tossed back into his pillow as one hand roams the soft expanse of your skin and the other glides through the wet folds between your shivering thighs.
It’s quite a sight to behold, a sight Eddie has only dreamed of before, and his mouth falls slack jawed as you moan his name again, fingertips pulling at a pebbled nipple.
Eddie’s painfully hard already, reaching down to adjust himself before he pushes the door open, hinges creaking. Your head lolls to the side, eyes meeting him in an instant, and the look you give him knocks the air completely out of his chest.
He had this whole thing planned in his head, but the moment your eyes meet his, his plan vanishes into the thick air of his room. Instead he closes the space between you both and falls to his knees at the side of his bed, his hands hanging in the air next to your bare form unsure of what he can and can’t touch.
“Missed you.” You whimper, fingertips brushing your nipple as you go to stroke his cheek. Eddie leans into your touch, reaching a hand out, his hot skin pressed to your cool stomach. He watches the way your body reacts to his touch, how you grind your hips up into the palm of your hand and whine again, head thrown back once more into the pillow.
“‘S not enough, Eds. Please, I need more.” You’re pouting, wet bottom lip jutting from your bitten lips and Eddie can’t help but to kiss it. Follow the tilt of your head, meeting him with a ferocious hunger, your free hand gripping the hairs at the back of his neck in a tight grip.
When he pulls away a string of saliva follows like a translucent tether between you two. “Tell me what you need, baby.” His voice bleeds softly through the room and it makes you whimper. You guide his hand to your core with your slick covered fingers that tremble as he takes their place, rubbing hard gentle circles over your swollen clit.
“Is this okay?” He asks, completely unsure of himself, and you nod fiercely as you guide his lips back to yours. You don’t kiss him, just hover his lips over your own, breathe in each other's gasps and moans. It is so intimate, so unlike what Eddie had been expecting from this rendezvous, but something Eddie has craved from the moment you sat next to him at the lunch table and offered him the other half to your chicken sandwich and a kind smile.
Eddie waits for you to nod, whisper a hushed yeah, so good, before he’s crawling onto the bed with you. He settles himself next to your side, his fingertips slipping around you wet hole with gentle ease, collecting what he can of your slick before he bumps his way back up to your clit, rubbing tight circles at such a pace that you thighs tighten around his forearm, trembling in a way that makes him coo softly at you.
“Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” The compliment has you keening, lifting into his touch, clawing at the back of his Hellfire shirt. “Love you so much, you gotta know that.”
Before you can even respond, can even process the way his words make your heart bloom, his touch vanishes. Leaves your body cold, hands searching blindly for him, before you squint your eyes open.
He’s down between your thighs now, spreading them open so delicately, kissing at your ankle bone, up the smoothness of your calf, across your skinned knee, down the silkiness of your thigh. When his tongue treks an upwards path through your puffy folds, you moan in unison. Your taste is rapture on his tongue, his brown eyes rolling back into his head as he dives deeper, burying himself into you, plush lips sucking hotly at your bundle of nerves. His fingers burn against the skin of your thighs, clutching them open like his life depends on it. Like if you were to cut him off from your divine taste he’d surely implode.
“Oh my God, Eddie.” You're on the verge of tears, breast heaving, thighs spasming, hands grasping pathetically at his mussed brown curls as that white hot coil inside you bursts like a dying star, exploding supernovas behind your eyelids with titanic force. You arch, carrying your back away from the bed as a gasp rushes up your throat so hard and fast you choke, breath stuck tight and so painful it allows your tears to spill over.
Eddie licks you through your release, soft laps of his tongue as you collapse back into his bed, shaking and whimpering at every touch, every suckle from his lips. He’s resisting the urge to grind against the mattress, hips aching to rut, to find any source of friction available, but he doesn’t want to come in his jeans. He wants to come inside you.  
Eddie trails his lips across your hip bone when you’ve finally had enough, hypnotized by the glimmer of your tears falling across your beautiful face, slithering up your wrecked body to nudge his nose into your hot cheek.
“Taste so good.” He kisses the corner of your lip, humming proudly to himself when you turn into him, following his lips with an expression of pure bliss. “Wanted to do that for so long.” He tells you honestly, peering up at you as he rests his chin against your still pounding heart.
“I can tell.” You huff out a laugh as you try to gain your sense back, throat achy and raw, body tingling with electricity. His touch is delicate as he wipes your tears away, touches you like you’re some fragile thing he’s scared he might break. “I- that was incredible, Eddie.”
“Good,” He muses, settling on his knees between your thighs, he grabs his shirt at the base, pulls it up slowly like he’s teasing, exposing his alabaster skin to you. You reach out without thinking, following the slightly defined lines of his stomach, drawing your finger across black ink itched into the skin on his ribs. Wayne, in dark cursive, an homage to the uncle who was more a father than his biological one had ever been.
“Pretty.” You whisper out, smiling up at him as he tosses his shirt across the room.
“Don’t think guys are supposed to be pretty, sweetheart.” He quips, lips pulled into a little smirk that makes your stomach flutter like always.
“You are, Eddie.” You say it so simply, like it’s a complete no brainer, but to Eddie it’s earth shattering. Makes his smile falter as your words wrap tight around his heart, forces him to stop, to stare down at you with his big brown bambi eyes that you love so much.
You sit, feeling the shift in the air, feeling like maybe you said the wrong thing, but then he smiles at you so brightly it's blinding. He meets you halfway, presses his forehead against yours, closes his eyes.
“Eddie, are you okay?” You ask gently, brushing his hair out of his face to place your palm against his stubbled cheek. He nods into you, brushes his nose against yours before he’s capturing your lips in a slow kiss.
It’s tantalizing, the gentle push and pull of molded lips, wet pants, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip. Eddie doesn’t look the type - the soft and sensual type that is- his usual rough shield he’d built long ago to protect himself from the cruelty life had cursed him with guarding that hopeless romantic that lived deep in his chest. Eddie struggled to believe in things like love long ago, back when he was a gangly little boy listening to his mother cry herself to sleep next to him after another of his fathers devastating verbal attacks. As only a child, he saw the vacant stare his mother held when his father would chastise her for the littlest things, clench his tiny little fists as his father called his abuse love. The curse that was the Munson name scared any and all prospective love offers away.
”Don’t talk to that Munson boy, He’s bad news.”
“No good kid. Nothing but trouble just like his daddy.”
“Freak. Devil worshiper. Drug dealer. Criminal.”  
Eddie was fine with being alone. Saw no use in wearing his heart on his sleeve just for it to be stomped on by some girl that could never care about him.
But then you sauntered into his life with a pep in your step and a smile reserved just for him. He couldn’t believe you were talking to him that first day, watching with bated breath and unsure eyes as you stole his pretzels and questioned him about what he was scribbling into his campaign notebook. He thought it was a fluke, a one off experience, until there you were the next day offering him half your lunch and questioning his love for Dio. Then the next, and the next after that, until it was such a routine that he couldn’t remember a time where you weren’t by his side.
It didn’t take him long to fall for you, head over heels, walls crumbling to ash at his feet every time you smiled or laughed or hugged him in a way only his mother had. You weren’t scared of what people thought of you being friends with the town freak, standing up to anybody that dared to speak ill of him. You were everything to him, his heart and his soul, and he thanked his mother every day he woke up, staring up at the ceiling as if he could see her face against the white stucco tile, for sending you to him.
His saving grace.
“I love you.” His voice is broken as he says it, eyes watering. Shame washes over him like waves, the words feeling like poison on his lips. If you didn’t feel the same; he’d be ruined.
“God, I love you, Eddie. So much, so much.” You’re kissing down the thick cords of his neck, smiling as he shutters out a breath, wraps you up in his arms as you kneel before each other on his bed. “Want you so bad, Eddie. Please. Please.”
You wait for him to nod against your shoulder, hiding in the curve of your neck, before you reach between your bodies to undo his belt. It clinks softly as you pull it from his belt loops, tossing it to the floor before you start working nimble fingers to the button of his pants, fumbling briefly with the zipper.
You’re yanking his pants down when he stops you, cupping your face in his strong hands, gazing down at you tenderly.
“I’ve never… I’ve never done this.” His admission rings through the air, making you tremble deep in your tummy. I’ve never done this. Which means, you’ll be his first. It pleases you more than it should. “Are you sure you still wanna? I won’t be mad if you don’t.”
He’s so unsure of himself at the moment, nothing like the man he’d imagined in his head earlier when he left for Hellfire. In fact nothing about this was what he imagined and in a way it makes it entirely better. He doesn’t want his first time with you to be some fast, wild, fuck that goes nowhere. Doesn't want to sit next to you tomorrow afternoon at lunch and pretend that the moment you shared didn’t rewrite his entire image of you. The love of his life. He knows you’re both just seniors, adults but still kids, still have your whole lives in front of you. But he also knows, you’re it for him.
“I want this, Eddie. I want you.” It’s all you can think to say and you punctuate it with a heavy kiss, sighing into the deliciousness of it. “Need you bad, baby.”
That's all it takes, baby slithers off the tip of your tongue and carries like the most beautiful song into Eddie’s ears. He pushes you back gently, watches as you collapse into his pillow with a giggle, your eyes wide and glossy. You felt it too, he didn’t need to be a genius to see it, not when your love for him was written all over your dazzling face. You have bewitched him, spellbound by such a simple pet name.
He wastes little time pulling the rest of his clothes from himself, leaving the bed only to grab a condom from his dresser drawer. He blushes when he turns back towards you and catches your eyes raking his body, an insatiable heat digging into your core like talons, dripping wetness at the sight of him naked alone.
He’s long and thick, a fat vein leading from his pretty blushing tip to his base framed by a dark bush. You’ve seen plenty of dicks before -okay, maybe like three- but none of them have looked as pretty as Eddie’s. It has your mouth watering, has you making grabby hands at him until he’s laughing, finding his way back to the bed.
“Needy girl.” He titters, tearing open the gray wrapper with pearly teeth, yet his hands are visibly shaking as he slides it down his hard length, groaning inwardly at the most friction he’s gotten since he walked in and found you.
You spread your legs wide for him as he adjusts and finds the most comfortable position between your legs. He lets out a quiet whimper as he slots himself against you, hoping like hell you can’t hear it, one hand resting on your hip as the other drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds. You keen at the sensation, tilting your hips into his strokes in hopes he’ll catch on the place you really need him.
“So needy for me.” His voice is hush, breath hot against your chest as he looks down at where your two bodies meet.
“Don’t tease me, Eddie. Been wanting you too long.” You guide his face up with gentle fingers, offer him a soft smile, but your eyes are nearly black, the color blown away by the dark expanse of your pupils. He thinks it’s crazy how rabid it makes him feel, your pupils but an obsidian pool so deep and welcoming he could drown in them.
“How long, baby?” He needs to hear the answer before this goes any further, needs to hear how he hasn't been alone in this brutal yearning.
“So long, baby, before I even knew you. Used to- used to think about you at night, i-imagine what you’d feel like, what you’d taste like. W-why do you think I sought you out, Eddie? I needed you.” You’re gasping after every word, shuddering at the pleasure that shoots through you with every heavy glide over your clit. It’s all consuming, better than your fingers and your toys. You could cum from this alone, you’re sure of it.
But Eddie has other plans as he lines himself up to your hole, whispering softly into your ear -”My little perv.”- before he’s pushing in agonizingly slow.
He’s biting his lip as he focuses on not coming the second he enters you, so tight and wet and weeping for him. He buckles forwards onto his elbows half way in, your tight and sudden clenching knocking the air from his lungs. The feeling of you wrapped around him is nothing like his hand, in fact he’s sure that nothing in this world can compare to the way you feel around him.  
He’s struggling to keep his composure as he bottoms out inside you, burying his face into the side of your head as he whimpers and whines at the next level intensity of it all. A new, completely overwhelming feeling, that has him almost drooling into your hair as he moans into your ear as you grip his ass and beg him to move.
“Oh my god, y/n.” You smooth your hand down his bare back, soothing his fiery skin as he pulls all the way out till just his tip remains inside you, bottoming back out with a shaky thrust and even shakier breath. “F-fucking heaven.” He says as he screws his eyes shut, thankful you can’t see the pathetic expression on his face.
But it’s not enough for you, you don’t want him hiding himself, so you pull him up by the back of his head, kiss him sloppily once before saying, “Look at me, Eddie. I wanna see you.”
Eddie scoffs, shakes his head, eyes still tightly shut. “‘Mgonna cum if I look at you.”
“It’s okay, baby, I want you to come. Wanna hear you and see you as you cum inside me.”
“Oh fucking hell.” His thrust picks up at your words, eyes springing open to find yours as he fucks into you harder, less sloppy than before.
His hair blankets around your face, shields you from the room, leaves you in this private little bubble that's all you and him and wet hot pants, eyes locked in an rhapsodic gaze that neither of you can or want to pull away from. The coil inside you tightens tenfold as his fingers find your bundle of nerves, rubbing harshly against them as he keeps his even thrusts.
He’s the first to speak.
“Can’t go back to b-before.” He pleads openly, “Not now, not after this.”
“I know, Eds. I know.” You can barely speak, wound so tight you feel like you're gonna combust underneath him.
“Wanna be yours. Please, let me be yours.” He sounds near tears from the delirious pleasure coursing through his body, any other time he’d be filled with shame, but you’re safe. You’re his person.
You push the hair from his face, hold him tenderly in your grasp, thumb tugging at his bottom lip as you earnestly tell him, “You’ve always been mine, Eddie. I’ve always been yours.”
He crashes his lips to yours, craving your mouth as he cums deep inside you, whining prettily into the smoldering kiss. You follow after, nails indenting into the curve of his shoulders as you cum, air knocked from your lungs, toes curling against his bed sheets. Your scream is muffled by his hot mouth, hips carrying you through it till he’s whining from the oversensitivity.
You gasp at the sudden loss as Eddie pulls out and collapses against your chest, ear pressed to your thundering heart beat. Your bodies shake together in the come down, his lower half deflating into the mattress as you stroke his hair, tucking the crazy strands behind his ear and out of his mouth.
He wraps his arms around your back as he lays on you, nuzzles his nose into your soft skin, humming in satisfaction.
“Was it okay?” He asks after a couple minutes of silence, kissing against your ribcage.
“Incredible. I-” You huff out a laugh, smooth your thumb down his cheekbone. “I’ve never cum so hard before.”    
He wants to thrust his fist into the air, so proud that even on his first time he’s made you cum better than anyone before him, but instead he holds you tighter, basking in the glow.
“Wanna do that again?” You ask cheekily, smiling down at him with a devilish look. “I wanna try those handcuffs.”
He rolls off you with a laugh, titling his head up at you with a faux, and deeply exaggerated, look of disapproval.
“Damn, baby. Can a guy get a minute to regain his breath? I’m not some sorta machine, you needy thing.”
You giggle at him, curl your body against his, slap fat wet kisses at his bare chest as he continues to jokingly chastise you.
“I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.”    
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hanichani · 4 months
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Pairing: han x gn!reader, han x lee know, slight lee know x gn!reader
Genre: fluff, suggestive
Summary: being besties with hanji apparently entails a lot more than just friendship
Warnings: complicated relationships i guess?, boy on boy action/relationship is mentioned but nothing explicit
Word count: 827, I really dk how to write long fics smh
a/n: I've been so inactive oh my god but oh well. merry christmas to anyone who celebrates <3 here's a little hannie/minsung drabble. hope you liiiike it!
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best friend hannie who's not really your best friend.
8:34pm ji: SOS
8:34pm ji: HELP ME
8:36pm ji: HELLO EARTH TO Y/N I NEED U
8:39pm ji: cmon i neeeeeeed u
8:40pm y/nn: r u dying
8:40pm y/nn: if not then leave me alone, im busy
8:41pm ji: but min is busy too >:(
8:41pm ji: and i am dying actually
8:43pm y/nn: no ur just a fucking horndog
8:43pm y/nn: text one of ur other hookups
8:44pm ji: but no one does it like you :(((
8:44pm y/nn: ur full of shit
8:45pm ji: u love it ;)))
8:47pm y/nn: ugh
8:47pm ji: soooo?
8:50pm y/nn: omw
you sigh, feeling annoyed but whenever he says, you’re always there to help him and you don’t even mind being one of the many because you know that jisung is a whore and nothing is going to change that. besides, you’re best friends, he’ll always put you above meaningless hookups (if he’s not too horny and thinking with his dick). the only person he won’t put you above is minho, let’s face it, he’s head over heels and simply too scared to have a proper conversation with him about it. but also, you think he’s scared that if they made it official, he would have to stop getting physical with you which is a close second to minho and he does not want to risk that.
you don’t mind it. to be honest, the thought of the two attractive men being together does something to you. and even when they’re not doing anything sexual, they make your heart swell. they could be cuddling on the couch when you come over and all you can do is scream on the inside because they look so soft and adorable together. holding each other close, their fingers intertwined while minho teases jisung by letting go of his hand every now and then and then both of them staring at their fingers brushing against each other in slow motion when they connect them again. they should get married. safe to say you’re their number one shipper.
so maybe that’s why it’s so natural for you and jisung to fuck around. you love him and he loves you but you both know it’s strictly platonic, right? jisung could be giving you head and muttering about how minho held his hand in public the other day and how that’s definitely a good sign to which you can only respond with loud sighs and nods of acknowledgment that jisung can’t see anyways.
another time, you could be riding jisung, discussing the outcomes of jisung actually confessing to minho. it’s just a casual conversation between friends…while they’re fucking.
and you're not bothered by it because minho is a very attractive man so thinking about him during sex only gets you going more.
sometimes it spirals into jisung talking about how you should definitely try having a threesome and that’s where the lines blur for you because no way would jisung ever let you do anything with minho. he’s way too possessive over the man and it makes you think that jisung has to have some sort of feelings for you to even think about that. but that thought is gone the next time you’re hanging out at his dorm and he charges in, holding the hand of an unknown girl, heading straight into his bedroom.
so yea, best friend jisung who strangers think you’re dating because they don’t know you two that well (they also think he’s dating minho which leads to them thinking the three of you are a poly couple).
best friend jisung who starts making out with you just because he’s had a long day and wants to take his mind off of it. best friend jisung who slides his hands under your tshirt on the daily “because he’s cold”… while he’s just horny. best friend jisung who plays matchmaker, trying to hook you up with his members only to fuck you senseless later that evening.
best friend jisung who coos at you whenever you get sleepy in his arms and thinks he could eat you up right then and there. best friend jisung who kisses you awake after a night spent together, peppering kisses all over your face.
best friend jisung who thinks about what it would be like if you joined him and minho in bed. best friend jisung who has thought about what it would be like to call both you and minho his. best friend jisung who has the exact same relationship with minho as he does with you. and best friend jisung who does not know how to confess to either of you so he plays it off as having platonic relationships with both you and minho while gushing to min about you and vice versa. best friend jisung who is in love with both of his best friends and does not know what the fuck to do.
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sunbloomdew · 8 months
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i can't stop thinking about the constant mentions of fall and summer in regard to baxter and mc, in the dlc.
i find the emphasis put on the seasons very interesting. unlike other potential love interests - cove and derek - baxter is not from the sunny state of california, but a town in oregon, surrounded by forests and mountains. in fact, baxter is the only character from the cast of olba that is not associated with summer, but with autumn instead, so it makes perfect sense to draw attention to that dissimilarity.
following that fact, just by acknowledging it we can see how different baxter is from other characters from sunset bird at his core. and since most of his time is spent with mc, that means the focus will be drawn to how different are these two specifically.
on a side note, this might be a complete overreach, but i consider it interesting how baxter uses the phrase 'suitor for a season' to describe himself in step 3. the use of the word 'season' in my opinion drives home the idea that their time together will inevitably come to an end, just like summer will end eventually, and there is simply no other outcome for this relationship.
when we consider the seasons theme even more, a thing that stood out to me is that summer and fall aren't opposites, like i'd say summer and winter are. they are next to each other (like california and oregon) and in some ways they intertwine. still they are different enough, to be regarded as separate seasons.
just like baxter and mc, no matter how alike, feel so different from each other, and they are aware of that.
i really love the monologue in the sightseeing moment, that mc has about them and baxter being different in that way.
"More and more, you felt as though Sunset Bird formed a vital part of your emotional core. Happiness to you was the sound of waves on the shore, the feeling of warm sand between your toes. [...] Maybe you'd forever be seeing the world through sea glass. But Baxter was another person entirely. For him, perhaps the world was monochrome, or maybe it was golden, but with color of leaves instead of sand. Talking with him made it impossible to ignore just how different your lives had been up until now. How separate your worlds were. All up until that moment, when he showed up on your street. Now your lives were intertwined, however briefly, the forests and the seafoam commingling. Though you knew his love was in the trees and the fall air, you couldn't help but feel happy that he'd wandered his way down to the shore. To you."
i find it so beautiful. everytime i read it i get a little choked up, you know? in my opinion, the summer/fall parallel is the perfect way to portray their relationship. the brainrot gets so intense every time i remember about this,,,
the same seasons theme returns in step 4 when the two reunite. to be precise, it comes back during mc's internal monologue preceding a confession. i was unable to recall if it appears somewhere else in the dialogue as well, but if you happen to find some more, feel free to reblog with this post!
"He tore himself away from you like an autumn storm bringing down a sapling/He fell away from you as naturally as a leaf fluttered off its branch in the fall. There was no holding on to your suitor for a season. Yet the affection you'd nurtured never died out. It had gone dormant for a long winter, ready to burst back to life if the cold passed. Seasons were meant to come and go, but there was no guarantee summer would come again for you and him."
(i'm pretty sure the dialogue here changes based on how you decided the break up went, cause i found two versions of the same confession monologue. still, both of them have a comparison to autumn!)
seasons can be used in art with a lot of different symbolism and meanings behind them. the cycle of the seasons is usually used to portray the passage of time, how the nature but also people change.
in this part of the monologue we see the usage of changing of the seasons to show how despite the time that passed ('winter'), mc still had feelings for baxter, that were ready to return ('spring'). the words "seasons were meant to come and go" bring our attention to how wrong things were between the two, to have something inevitable like the seasons cycle stop.
each season on its own also has its own meanings, and can be used to enhance certain themes or emotions in the text.
in case of baxter and mc, summer is the season in which they met time and time again. not only did their relationship start during summer but it developed in that season as well. as such, for them summer is inextricably a time of growth for their relationship.
outside of their relationship, individually their characters' are connected to summer and fall respectively. as mc referred to it, their emotional cores were influenced by their hometowns - one a summer tourist spot and the other a picturesque autumn town.
to bring back one more thing from mc's monologue in step 3, they wonder if baxter sees the world in gold, but in the colour of the leaves and not sand. well, i noticed, how when they make up after the wedding, the whole place is bathed in gold. you could view it as the summer gold and autumn gold merging together, as those two finally reconcile. or you could see it as a summer gold, as this season is important for their relationship. i like both options.
aside from that monologue, there are several instances of baxter's appearance being compared to things associated with autumn or nature, like descriptions of his eyes as "brown rich like the earth" (i love this one sm it lives in my head rent free) and "oak brown eyes". i think it's a great characterization to have baxter be a 'woodsy person', despite most of us (me for sure) thinking he would be a 'city boy' kind of character at first glance.
i think the reason there is such strong focus on the fact that mc and baxter embody different seasons, is to make the differences between them even more pronounced. when they ultimately reunite and overcome their struggles to mend their bonds, it's even more impressive to witness.
either way, i cannot stop thinking of summer/fall parallel and how genius i think it is. the vibes! the emotional turmoil!! the art potential!!! it's incredible. especially if you try to implement it more into your mc, which is what i'm trying to do.
i'll leave you with this screenshot, that is kinda making my stomach go funny, because of the whole summer/fall parring thing,, i am so unwell in the best of ways
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because like if you think about it way too deeply which i of course had, he's saying that summer/fall combination is beautiful, like he's not saying anything besides that BUT when you remember that mc is summer and baxter is fall, then you know?????
i hope you had fun reading this spontanous post! i've been thinking about the summer/fall thing since my first playthrough, so i'm happy to finally gush about it <3
i should not be here, it's 4am and i'm leaving in three hours,,, my time management skills never fail me. toodle-oo~
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teabutmakeitazure · 1 year
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Devil's Advocate
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>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader
>Word count: 2.4k
>Warnings: anxiety, bastardly smug Chrollo
>a/n: I actually had to Google what a telephone looks like lol
An unattended telephone and overflowing temptation. Is that lady luck smiling down on you or the man who holds the key to your peace and freedom?
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The quiet rumbling of the moving car makes up for the lack of conversation. On the driver's seat sits Chrollo, hands on the steering wheel, while you try your best to not succumb to the midnight silence's lullaby. Your head once again falls against the window, and you flinch awake, sitting upright.
Chrollo briefly glances at you, eyes once again on the road in front of him. When your eyes close for the umpteenth time and head slowly falls onto the window, Chrollo smiles to himself. This time, you don't flinch awake and continue sleeping.
However, a few minutes later, your eyes snap open and you readjust yourself in your seat. A chuckle manages to escape the man next to you, so you direct your sleepy glare to him. The half-hearted glower is acknowledged when he stops at a red light in spite of the empty road and faces you.
The playful smile on his face and your sleep-filled anger makes the situation seem almost ludicrous. Had it not been for Chrollo finding your hostility cute, you would've succeeded long ago in making him listen to you.
"You should get some rest," he requests, amused smile turning into a softer one. "There's still a bit of a ride to the hotel, so there's ample time to take a nap."
"How very thoughtful of you."
He shrugs. "I'm simply asking you to let yourself rest."
The traffic light turns green and the car starts moving again. You, on the other hand, get comfortable by resting your head in the position that is least probable to let your poor skull bang against the glass window. Had there not been loud static on the radio, you would've put on some music to fill the silence instead of having to listen to Chrollo quietly hum to himself with a smile.
The low rumbling of the moving car and quiet hums from the driver seat's occupant slowly soothe your mind into slumber. Your breathing relaxes, body going lax, and Chrollo finds himself slowing the car to be able to turn and look at you every few minutes. On the next red traffic light, he fixes your poor posture with a sigh, mind already replaying your complaints of neck pain.
-
As if a switch has been flipped, you, much to Chrollo's misfortune, wake up right at the moment the car is parked in the hotel's parking lot. The unfortunate man's lips press into a thin line as he watches you rub your eyes and stretch in the space you have available. He finds his luck to be absolutely unbelievable to have such a travesty occur.
You, on the other hand, find your situation to be bothersome rather than unfortunate. Your neck hurts and your entire body is more fatigued than it was before the sleep. Thankfully, Chrollo doesn't find the circumstance fit for conversation and wordlessly exits the car, opening the door for you before you even put your hand on the handle.
A pleased smile is on his face when you get out. The expression remains as he guides you towards the entrance, but the curve of his lips widens when you ask about the luggage.
"I'll get it later. You, my dear, desperately need a bed."
With that, he easily whisks you away to a room on a floor whose number you didn't bother to look at, only satisfied with finally laying on a bed. Hardly minutes after he oh so lovingly tucked you in after gently manoeuvring you to a side so that you don't make him end up sleeping on the couch by starfishing, you see the beginnings of sunlight filter through the curtains.
It's day already. Just how long did the car ride take? Wasn't it dark when you were heading to the lobby?
It doesn't matter. You're here now, on a bed no less. If you could just…
Wait.
The phone.
The hotel room has a telephone!
And Chrollo… he left immediately after tucking you in. Plus, he's gone for the luggage. That ought to take at least ten minutes right?
Slowly, you creep out of bed. If the telephone in here works as it rightfully should, you may be able to contact the authorities! As soon as your feet touch the carpeted floor, your thought process ceases function, body completely running on autopilot as any trace of sleep vanishes.
Adrenaline rushes through your blood, heart beating against your chest as you gingerly tiptoe and exit the bedroom. All the curtains in the main room are drawn, and your eyes utilise the scarce light filtering through the curtains to start the search for the telephone.
A deafening silence hangs in the air, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that you’re too suspiciously lucky.
One step forward.
The carpet under your feet overwhelms your senses, the friction from it doing a lot more than to just ground you. Your eyes spot what looks like a telephone underneath the mirror on the wall. It temptingly sits on a table in the corner of the main room. Like a siren’s song, it calls to you and you hesitantly heed, taking another step forward.
Under your feet, the carpet brushes against your soles. Another step, and your heart starts thumping in your ears.
Fingers twitch when you’re a few feet away from the device. Eyes locked onto it like predator and prey, you take another daunting step forward.
An unsettled and shaky exhale leaves your lips when you pause in your pursuit. This is too good to be true. The telephone is hardly three feet away from you, and its wires are all intact. The green light signalling that it works is blinking at you while you blink back, but you’re frozen, utterly in disbelief at your luck.
Tilting your head, you crane your neck to see if Chrollo’s shoes are by the door but they aren’t. He really isn’t here yet. Now’s your chance!
Swiftly your feet pad over to the table. You don’t bother so much as to glance at your reflection, already aware of how your tired face will stare back at you. Grabbing the phone, you start recalling emergency services’ numbers.
They’re different for every region right? But some places share the same codes. Nevermind. You’ll just have to try every single one that you know.
Shakily, your finger aims for the dial pad while the phone stays pressed against your ear. As though reaching for an open flame, your finger warily presses 1. Your head whips to look behind you, then to the left and then right but no one's there other than the sound of your own breathing.
An imaginary timer suddenly starts ticking in your head, and you immediately go with pressing the other two digits. The phone slowly starts dialling and you press the phone closer to your ear.
An automated message plays, informing you of the incorrect number. Hastily, you try a different code, pressing the phone to your ear just to hear the same message again.
The timer in your head ticks faster, and you find your heart beating impossibly fast. Tenacity pushes you forward to try again only to fail a third time.
A different code pops into your mind and you scramble to dial it. Pressing the phone to your ear, you breathe a sigh of relief when it dials for longer than it did before.
One buzz.
Then two.
A bead of sweat rolls down your temple, a third buzz making you realise just how time has slowed down for you.
A fourth buzz and you find yourself holding your breath.
By the time you exhale, the phone goes silent. Did no one pick up? But if no one did, a sound signifying the unsuccessful call would have played, so why is it beeping?
When you reach for the dial pad again, you freeze when you see a finger pressing down on the red button.
Body acting against your will, your eyes follow the finger to the hand and consequently to the man standing a step behind you. The sunlight that manages to peek through the gaps hits his back, giving his body an ominous glow.
The expression on his face is nowhere near decipherable, but you know very well that your own is one of absolute horror.
When his finger retreats, you start counting your regrets.
A heavy silence settles between you two. Neither party says anything, the only conversation being between your wildly beating heart and mind screaming at you to start apologising.
His head turns to you, but your mind fails to register any expression on it. You're face to face with a blank canvas, but your mind soon clears up enough to make out his expression.
Blank.
There's no disappointment in his eyes, no anger, no annoyance, nothing. You remain unable to make out any emotion on his face despite the assiduity you practise. He remains standing there as still as a statue, watching you, observing you.
If his gaze held physical weight, you would have been crushed under its sheer intensity.
Minutes pass and you remain frozen standing there, subject to his all consuming eyes. The phone slowly slips from your hand and falls to the floor with a dull clink but your hand remains suspended mid air. When the sound echoes in your mind, you feel that your chest is violently heaving for air.
He continues to stare at you unblinking, and you remain rendered unable to look away.
A firm grip on your hand and he finally moves, breaking the overwhelming eye contact but bringing you with him as you scramble behind him to follow. The door to the bedroom closes quietly after he gently moves you to sit on the edge of the bed.
It's when the lock clicks into place that dread seeps into your being, deep inside your bones. Chrollo sits opposite to you on a chair, face resting on his hands as he continues to stare at you.
You feel like an outsider in your body. No matter how much you may scream at yourself to just say something, repudiate your betrayal or at least move, you don't. You're frozen. Each and every single muscle in your body is on high alert, fight or flight response active.
Chrollo's grey eyes bore into yours, but unlike in the main room, his face is completely visible thanks to it now being day on the other side of the curtains. As your mind clears up, you assiduously go over every feature of his.
The tattoo on his forehead is on full display, but the hair near his face seems a little damp. He's even changed into different clothes - his usual sleepwear. You're still unable to identify any emotion on his face, but you do understand this.
He's observing you, watching your anxiety and how you deal with it.
Seconds pass and your mind clears up with every single one. You gain more and more clarity and you eventually conclude that he's waiting for you to break the silence.
His eyebrows briefly raise when a look of understanding flashes across your face. Despite your transgression, you refuse to let him win. You're aware that either way you will be punished, and now that your anxiety has settled down a bit, you're willing to embrace whatever it is because there is no way out.
Chrollo holds the key to your peace and freedom but still prefers to bring the complete opposite in your life.
Honestly, seeing how you're wide awake, you can't believe that you've hardly slept a few hours in the last 24.
The staring continues but you stay firm in your stance. You attentively watch how Chrollo's lashes delicately flutter against his under eyes when he blinks, grey eyes playing the role of bottomless pits.
His lips part to speak, but he stops himself before a sound can be made. Next, his brows slightly furrow, eyes not breaking away from yours, and he tries again.
"Before we discuss your actions, I want to make this clear. Any sort of capitulation or imploring from your side will only make this situation worse for you. Choose carefully how you respond to me."
That had sufficed to cause you to start nervously fidgeting with your hands.
"What was going on in your head when you rose from bed and headed for the telephone?"
The way he's looking at you is giving you goosebumps. There's no hint of affection in his demeanour anymore. It's almost foreign.
"Well?"
Swallowing nervously, you gather the courage to reply. "I'm not sure. I just wanted to-"
"Concrete answers." Chrollo crosses his arms as an indifferent look stares at you. "I know you, [Name]. You're not a stupid girl. Give me concrete answers. I am not in the mood for your prevarication."
Alright… well he's mad. That's not good.
"I… I thought I would be able to contact the authorities."
He scoffs, an uncharacteristic reaction. "And then? I thought you were smarter. You've had a glimpse of Skill Hunter, yet you still believe measly policemen are of help."
"..."
"Your mind rationalised that normal people with guns or a little authoritative power can compete with a Nen user? Do you perhaps need a refresher?"
"No! No. Please. I'm… I was dumb. I admit my stupidity."
Chrollo leans forward, eyeing you as though studying a painting. His eyes travel across your entire body, and his hand settles on holding your face. If you hadn't known Chrollo, you would miss the way his grip on you seems to be strained as though he's holding himself back.
"You're absolutely foolish," he says. "This is exactly why you need me. You're too naive, too unsophisticated. Your simple-mindedness will be your downfall and of those you care for."
Wait-
"You're very fortunate, [Name]. I was planning on taking you to see the sunset the day after tomorrow, so I'm willing to forgive and forget if you grant me a favour."
You immediately grab his wrist, pleading eyes submitting to him. When his other hand also cups your cheek, he cradles your face in his hands. Thumb caressing your cheekbones, you continue looking at him imploringly, silently telling him that you're ready to appease him so long as he doesn't elaborate on the downfall of those you care about.
A smile stretches on Chrollo's lips at your silent begging. "Quid pro quo, darling. I sincerely hope you remember that you are responsible for the situation you are about to be in."
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