#i wish life was easier for us to navigate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which jungkook doesn’t mind you waking him up— he just wishes it’s not when he’s in the middle of a good dream.

> fluff, suggestive / wc: 3.1k

> warnings: spider in the bathroom, mentions of alcohol, blood, and punches (nothing bad i promise <3) ; allusions to sex and a wet dream

note: welcome to another product of my insomnia, imagination, and real life experiences <3

—

“maybe we should have couple’s new year’s resolutions. it sounds more motivating if i have someone to do it with.” you utter absentmindedly before taking another sip of hot chocolate from your mug, legs crossed on the small couch, staring across the clear sky and the sunday morning life of the city.

the strumming of jungkook’s guitar ceases briefly before his fingers fiddle with the strings again. he looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a peach fluffy floor rug beside a potted bamboo palm.

“something like?”

“hmmm, sleeping early and waking up early?” you shift to look at him innocently, hugging your knees to your chest. “isn’t this nice? we don’t get to hang out in our balcony often.”

his curious expression turns sour, doe eyes squinting to glare at you as if to say you have got to be kidding me. you pout in response, feeling dejected because turns out he’s still not completely over your . . . unconscious mistake from earlier.

the annoying vehicle sounds that his instrument drowned out a while ago blare in your ears again. “how about we promise to stop disrupting each other’s dreams?”

“i don’t like it,” the frown remains painted on your face. “i only wake you up for emergencies!”

he tuts, straightening his crossed legs and leaning his back against the glass sliding door. “baby, an emergency would be a fire or a thief breaking in.”

—

you were kneeling on the floor, outstretched hands occupying your side of the bed. torn between waking jungkook up at 3am or getting the challenge accomplished on your own, you let your face fall on the bed as you pondered your options.

you did have a few round of drinks earlier that night, so it’s no wonder your bladder bothered your usual sleeping patterns. navigating the bedroom using blurry vision and wobbly feet, you hoped that your eyes were just playing tricks when you caught sight of a black creature crawling on the white bathroom wall. maybe it was one of those shapeless floating spots that dim your vision when you stand up too quickly.

however, the instinctive scream that left your mouth after you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes begged to differ. it was short, almost sounded like it got cut off. nevertheless, it was still loud. the door was left swung open, and you were only a step away from the floor mat. and yet, your boyfriend remained ignorant of his surroundings, absorbed in a dream where in he was a friendly and humble meat vendor in a kingdom among the clouds.

unfortunately, you really needed to go to the fucking toilet and there was only one person in this house fearless enough to face the evil barrier surrounding it.

and so, your hand curled around his bicep, and you allowed yourself another second of contemplation, before you gently shook his body awake.

“babe, wake up. please.”

he hummed in question tiredly, slowly stretching out his limbs and rolling over on his back. his eyes remained closed as he scratched at his cheek, sleep lines visible on his skin because his face got squished against the very corner of your pillow when he was sleeping.

“what’s wrong?” his voice came out rough and slurred, yet it was still laced with sweet concern.

“emergency! there’s a spider as big as my hand. in the bathroom. it’s by the trash, beside the toilet.” you explained swiftly in panic as you climbed on the bed, pulling at his arm in desperation. “if i don’t pee in the next three minutes, i’m gonna start crying.”

somehow, it’s easier to ask jungkook for something when he’s tired or sleepy. or both. he didn’t utter a single word as he dragged himself out of the bed. only, his lips formed a wince when his naked feet touched the cold ground.

“jungkook, put the prada boots down!”

he looked down at his hands holding the left foot of the boots he wore yesterday, before looking back at you. “why?” he was like a lost puppy, with his beady eyes and messy hair pointing at different directions.

“who kills a spider using expensive boots? use a slipper!”

“ah!” he exclaimed in realization, neatly placing it back next to its pair. “forgot i’m supposed to kill it.” he muttered to himself with a lazy smile.

“then what were you going to do with that?” you asked in bewilderment, but the question hung suspended in the air. he picked up one of your slippers beside the bathroom door before slipping inside.

and then you heard it, the sound of your thick slipper slapping the cold, tiled wall. you almost sighed in relief, until another thought entered your mind. you still feel uncomfortable with it inside your home, alive or not. when he came out empty-handed, you immediately stopped him from coming back to bed.

“throw it outside instead. please?”

and again, without a word, he did as you asked. he picked it up using tissue paper, and discarded it in the trash bin near the elevator of your apartment floor. on the other hand, you dashed to the bathroom the second they were gone.

“liar. it was only as big as half of my pinky.” jungkook grumbled as he made himself comfortable on the bed again, burying his face on your chest instead of your pillow this time around. your boyfriend— he tends to treat your body as if it’s softer than cotton.

“it shrank in fear when it saw you approaching.”

your hushed giggles harmonized in the dead of the night, warm bodies tangled underneath the comforter. “i love you. thank you for making it go away.”

the tender kiss of gratitude you granted to his temple made him keen. he stole a second goodnight kiss from your lips before dozing back to sleep, silently praying his dream would have a continuation— he was about to cater a feast in the palace.

—

“a spider in the bathroom is an emergency. it’s an unwelcome visitor! technically, if you think about it, it broke into our house.”

“it’s still not bad enough to be a code red.” jungkook attempts to reason, abandoning his guitar on the ground to crawl to you on his knees. you’re unable to protest as his hands cover yours, guiding the mug to his mouth. the soles of your feet automatically plant themselves on the floor to eliminate the possibility of hitting his face with your knees. “more like a code orange.”

“so we’re going by a coding system now?”

he swallows, and takes another sip of your hot chocolate. “should we? i just came up with it.”

“it sounds cute. and it’s very virgo of you.” you share a grin, as if you weren’t whining to each other about minute ago.

“then i think . . . we should say code blue when we can’t sleep.”

“why blue?”

“mhmm,” he hums, folding his arms over your lap before resting his chin on them, looking up at you with his starry eyes. “usually the reason why we can’t sleep is because we’re feeling blue.”

a breeze blows, causing strands of hair to escape from the black little claw holding back his long black hair. he closes his eyes instinctively, and you tuck them behind his ears so they won’t obstruct his vision again. when he cracks his eyes open, he’s greeted by your smile. kind. warm. golden. contrasting the blue sky behind you, making you the sun in his eyes.

“then what qualifies for a code red?”

the unsurprisingly vivid memories come rushing back to him. “code red is for emergencies like i said. and remember when you woke me up the other night? that also counts.”

—

jungkook sat up on the bed, retreating against the headboard while cautiously eyeing the perilous item held by your right hand. you could’ve sworn that you’ve never seen his round eyes look this big. he looked absolutely adorable. okay, maybe a little terrified, but adorable. with his pretty face bare and puffy from sleep. but for what it’s worth, your fuzzy memories could be betraying you. the culprits of your predicament: hunger and dehydration.

“why is there a butcher’s knife in our bedroom?”

you jutted out your bottom lip sadly, shrugging your left shoulder to focus his attention on the watermelon cradled by your arm. “i’m sorry for waking you up, but i can’t slice it open. i’m still too weak from working out.”

he opened his mouth as he was about to speak, but he closed it again. he carefully pried the knife away from you, climbing off the bed and hiding it behind his back. he started walking to the kitchen and you followed him idly, tightly embracing the heavy watermelon. with alertness, he felt your presence behind him, and he transferred the knife infront.

you refused dinner because you still felt full from the late lunch you had in the afternoon. however, the hunger striked at 2am, leaving you unable to sleep until you satisfy the monster in your tummy. you weren’t in the mood for anything that required to be cooked, you just wanted something easy to eat. the challenge with this fruit, though . . . it’s too damn hard to open.

you arrived at the kitchen, and you left the watermelon over the chopping board to allow jungkook to do his magic. he placed the butcher’s knife back in the wooden knife holder, grabbing the chef’s knife with his tattoed hand.

oh? you can get the job done with a knife that small?

“you looked scary holding that giant knife. this knife is fine, as long as it’s sharp.” you winced at his comment as you watched him flawlessly cut the watermelon in the middle, and then cut each of those halves into halves again.

“baby, did you try cutting it yourself?” he asked when he noticed the scratches on the green skin.

you smiled sheepishly. “maybe. but i gave up after two tries.”

he shook his head with a chuckle, handing you the first slice of watermelon he made. “just let me do it next time, okay?”

“okay. thank you, my love.” you took your first bite, observing him with sheer adoration as he sliced the rest of the watermelon for you.

after finishing your first slice in only five bites, you and jungkook covered the remaining three quarters with plastic wrap and put them inside the fridge.

“want me to cook?”

you shook your head without a word. you were too busy devouring another slice of watermelon, seated on the countertop.

“kimchi fried rice?”

“i’m fine. just go back to sleep, babe.” you hummed softly, wrapping an arm around him when he came in for a hug.

“okay,” he nosed at your neck, getting a whiff of your night-time moisturizer. “i was having a fun dream. we were on a vacation and we found out our hotel bathroom could travel us through time and space.”

“that sounds cool. i ruined it though, didn’t i?” needless to say, you felt guilty. you wanted to stroke his hair and lull him back to the sleep that you interrupted, but your hands were sticky from the juice dripping from your fruit.

“oh, you did.” he replied with a chuckle, lightly slapping your thigh before squeezing it. “but that’s better than waking up to find you bleeding all over the kitchen.”

—

“red because watermelon?”

“the blood, baby. the blood!”

you grimace, feeling offended. you’d argue that you aren’t as dangerous as he thinks, but unfortunately, today is not the day for that. you will not win.

“alright. so, code blue for when we’re feeling blue. code orange for fearsome threats. code red for life-threatening situations.”

he nods along as you list them down, his lips naturally pouting in concentration. “that sums it up. we can add more when we think of other scenarios.”

and it’s still silence for a while. you finish the rest of your hot chocolate, and jungkook is fixed on a weird position, randomly deciding to take a nap on your lap. it reminds you of bam, when he rests his chin on your knee while you pet him, and he just stays there until he almost falls asleep.

“don’t your knees hurt down there, love? sleep here instead.” you try to coax him into moving to the couch, concerned about his knees. also, the air from his nostrils is tickling your sensitive skin.

“it feels comfortable.” he answers with his eyes still closed, embracing your thighs tighter. “just don’t slap me again because that hurt.”

—

jungkook wasn’t quite sure what woke him up exactly. was it your loud gasp or the stinging pain that was blossoming on his cheek? when he cracked his eyes half-open, he saw you covering your mouth with your hand. your eyes were painted with horror, forehead creased in apparent distress.

“baby, what happened?” he croaked out, completely innocent and it killed you. out of curiosity, he touched his warm cheek.

before you, he only grew up living with brothers. adding this to the fact that he’s been training in boxing for years, the pain of a punch is very much dull to him at this point. oh, that slap? it felt more painful than any punch he’s ever received.

“i slapped you.” you squeaked out, mind disoriented and body numb from the shock of jolting awake to find out that you- “i didn’t mean to! it wasn’t on purpose! i’m sorry!”

jungkook stayed frozen, still unable to fully process the series of events that transpired, even after you just bolted out of the room screaming out an apology. too tired to go to the mirror, he used his phone camera to take a look at his cheek. to no surprise, his delicate skin has turned red. no wonder it fucking stings.

it was already 7:12 in the morning, and the sun is shining bright. he didn’t feel like going back to sleep anymore. he sat up when you came back with an ice pack, which you gingerly held to the affected area.

“you slapped me? did i do something bad in your dream?” he quizzed, eerily nonchalant, hand curling around your wrist to guide the ice pack to where he was hurting.

“i’m really sorry.” you sniffled, tearing up with guilt, and at the thought of how fucking ridiculous this was. “it wasn’t you . . . there was a thief who tried to snatch my bag and i- uhm, you know- i got angry and scared and i slapped his hand away. then i suddenly woke up and for a split second i thought i was still . . . dreaming.”

“so you slapped the thief again?”

you bowed your head in shame. “yes.”

“and you thought i was the thief?”

you nodded, slowly curling up into a ball to hide yourself from him. “it was so blurry. and he was wearing all black, too . . . does it hurt a lot?”

“not a lot.” he pressed a kiss on the top of your head to ease the tension, and his hand slid up to hold yours. “i’m not really mad about that but- i was having a really good dream, you know?”

“i ruined it again, didn’t i? i’m sorry.” you cried out, throwing your arms around him, face buried on his neck because you didn’t have it in yourself to meet his eyes yet. but still, you wanted him close.

one arm securely held the ice pack to his cheek, the other covered his eyes as soft laughter racked his body, still heavy from sleep. “don’t cry, baby. want to make breakfast together?”

—

that is how you and jungkook ended up at the balcony this morning, too tired to function and too awake to sleep. fortunately for him, the sugar worked well as a sedative. it didn’t for you, but you’re content with just sitting here. apparently, you’re more harmful in your sleep.

you sigh deeply, stroking his soft and smooth cheek with the back of your fingers. the redness is almost gone, thanks to the ice pack. “i’m sorry. i’ll try my best to never do it again.” you regretfully apologize for the nth time.

“you know, it’s not like i would ever steal from you, but that really taught me a lesson.”

“you don’t have to steal. i’ll give you whatever you want.”

and with that, jungkook’s spirit awakens. for a person who loves getting spoiled, those are some of the most dangerous words you can say. but he already got everything he could ever want or need, and he couldn’t care less about the tangible.

“no need to steal kisses?”

kisses. of course. his mind is always somewhere near the thought of kisses, almost as if it’s the house across the street.

“mhmm, no need. you can just come get one yourself whenever you want to.”

you should’ve thought of this form of persuasion earlier. he started feeling a little grumpy while cooking the eggs because he realized this was the second time you ruined a good dream of his in the past three days.

“give me one then. you haven’t kissed the pain away yet.” he cracks one eye open, waiting for it expectantly. you give him his well-deserved kiss on the cheek, lips curving into a small yet happy smile because what kind of superhero shit did you do in your past life to deserve the best boyfriend on earth in this one?

and then he’s climbing over you while holding your face between his hands, peppering you with an endless amount of kisses dipped in love and chocolate.

“jungkook!” you squeal with a laugh as you fall on your back. the empty mug slips away from your hand. it rolls on the floor, and you hear it bump into jungkook’s guitar before making a full stop.

“people can see us here. you know that, right? they might get the wrong idea.” you stifle a gasp when his lips reach the expanse of your neck. your restless hands grasp at the sleeves of his oversized shirt, supposedly to push him away, but why are you holding on so tightly?

“want to make that idea come to life in the bedroom?”

and in spite of your system getting clouded by his intimate affection, your suspicion begins to arise. “what was that good dream about again?”

damn, you’re smart.

he pushes up his weight against the cushion, and his dimpled naughty grin comes into view. the strands of hair you tucked behind his ears stubbornly escape to frame his handsome face.

“i’ll tell you about it in the bedroom too.”

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk @bxbyyyjocelyn @zkdlllin @koostarcandy @tswisal1 @fragmentof-indifference @laylasbunbunny @jjk-jeongirl @cherishoshi @taexidriver @luaspersona @yn-lifeu + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

3K notes · View notes

aphroditelovesu · 7 months

Text

.navigation

✿.｡Welcome to my blog! My name is Larissa, but feel free to call me Lari or Lady L, which is how you know me. I'm Brazilian 🇧🇷 and I was born on October 15th. English is not my first language. My pronouns are she/her and I am bisexual 💖💜💙. I am Libra ♎️ and INTP.

⤷♡. If you want to support my work or to just tip me, can you buy me a coffee? ☕️

⤷✿.Here I've gathered all my series, masterlists and some additional things to make them easier to find. Enjoy my blog, dear reader.

⤷♡.+ disclaimer: some of my works may have nsfw content in addition to the yandere genre. if you are sensitive to these topics, I recommend not reading.

⤷♡.+ genre: yandere/dark!au.

⤷♡.+ Requests are OPEN. Asks and concepts are open.

⤷♡.+ character ai: aphroditelovesu.

⤷♡.+ Rules and Fandoms List;

⤷♡.+ Emoji Prompt List + Prompts List;

⤷♡.+ Wips; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6; 7; 8;

⤷♡.+ Commissions;

‘‘Love you so bad, love you so bad, mold a pretty lie for you.’‘ ˚˖੭ Fake Love, BTS.

⤷♡.+ BTS; 💜

⤷♡.+ BLACKPINK; 🖤

⤷♡.+ ITZY; 🧡

⤷♡.+ Stray Kids; 💙

➷ EXO: Yandere Baekhyun (Romantic), Yandere Suho (Romantic).

➷ TWICE: Imagine as Classmates.

⤷♡.+ Greek Mythology; ⚡

⤷♡.+ Egyptian Mythology; 𓂀

⤷♡.+ Historical Characters; 📜

➷ The Lost Queen | Yandere!Alexander the Great ❝You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn't understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren't safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won't let you go so easily.❞ The Lost Queen Series Masterlist

⤷♡.+ The Vampire Diaries + The Originals; 🧛

⤷♡.+ House of the Dragon; ��

⤷♡.+ Game of Thrones; ❄️

⤷♡.+ The Sandman; ⌛

⤷♡.+ Outlander; 🗿

⤷♡.+ Wednesday; 🎻

⤷♡.+ Brooklyn Nine-Nine; 👮‍♂️

⤷♡.+ Bridgerton; 🐝

⤷♡.+ Shadow and Bone; ☠️

⤷♡.+ Outer Banks; 💰

⤷♡.+ K-Dramas; ❤️

⤷♡.+ Reign; 👑

⤷♡.+ The Tudors; 🗡️

⤷♡.+ Hannibal; 🍽

➷ The Bloody Viscount | Yandere!Anthony Bridgerton ❝You had fallen in love with Viscount Bridgerton and he had fallen in love with you. The marriage seemed perfect, but then why did Anthony Bridgerton always come home late and bloodstained?❞ Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; ➷ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon | Yandere!ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT ❝You have always been an avid reader and your greatest passion was delving into the pages of "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin. You knew every character, every twist and every detail of the Seven Kingdoms as if they were part of your own life. But what you never imagined is that an unexpected encounter with a mysterious antique book seller would change your life forever.❞ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon Masterlist

⤷♡.+ Percy Jackson; 🌊

⤷♡.+ Harry Potter; 🔮

⤷♡.+ A Court of Thorns and Roses; 🌹

⤷♡.+ A Song of Ice and Fire; 🔥

‘‘We were born to be alone but why we still looking for love?’‘ ˚˖੭ Lovesick Girls, BLACKPINK.

⤷♡.+ Attack on Titan; ⚔️

⤷♡.+ Naruto; 🍥

⤷♡.+ Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir; 🐞

⤷♡.+ One Piece; 👒

⤷♡.+ How To Train Your Dragon; 🐲

⤷♡.+ Death Note; 📓

‘‘Don’t you know that you’re toxic?’’ ˚˖੭ Toxic, Britney Spears.

⤷♡.+ Marvel; ۞

‘‘I wish you would love me again, no, I don't want nobody else.’’ ˚˖੭ Love Me Again, V.

⤷♡.+ Love Letters; 💕

⤷♡.+ Love Letters II; 💕

⤷♡.+ Kinktober 2023; 🎃

➷ A Black Rose | Yandere!Ian Daerier ❝A cruel and narcissistic reaper falls in love with the woman he was supposed to take the life of.❞ Oneshot;

#navigation #masterpost #masterlist #masterlists #rules #fandoms list #prompts #emoji prompt #prompt list #yandere au #love letters #wips #yandere #dark au #📌 pinned post

370 notes · View notes

pochipop · 5 months

Text

＃FNAF MOVIE !! ♡ — IT'LL BE ALRIGHT (MIKE SCHMIDT X READER).

#. synopsis! — mike is used to walking on eggshells, just waiting for another tragedy, and you really don’t want to be just another person who's let him down.

#. characters! — mike schmidt .

#. warnings! — vague references to past traumatic events (canon compliant) , references to a verbal argument .

#. word count! — 1.8k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

Mike is used to people leaving. They come and they go like stray cats who've found someone better to nab food off of, —leaving him with more ghosts in his life than he'd care to admit. At least these ones are metaphorical and melodramatic, though. His saving grace has been the fact that he chooses wisely who to introduce Abby to, just in case. She's been through enough, and she's so young that the absence of anyone would be duly noted. Not that it isn't when it comes to himself, it's just. . . He's learned how to live with loss. Maybe not effectively, but he does it, and for right now, that's probably as good as it's getting.

He's got more pressing matters to attend to. He always does. That's what he argued about with you, —what he fought tooth and nail to defend, even when you backed off. At the end of it, he knew he'd gone too far for no real reason. He wasn't arguing with you at that point, he was arguing with all the people that have left him starved for their affections and their care. The words he said to you were so far beyond your scope that it was almost pathetic to think about all the bullshit he unloaded on you like it was somehow your job to fix it, even when he knew it wasn't. So really, it's no wonder he's adding you to that list of people who've walked away.

For once, he truly deserved it.

And now he's got to explain this to Abby. Because she likes you almost as much as he does, —almost being the operative word there. Mike sucks at a lot of things, and showing you he cares tends to be one of them, but he loves in his own ways. . . And now, he fears he'll have to do it from afar.

He sort of wishes Abby was the kind of kid he could bribe with ice cream for breakfast to break bad news to. It'd be easier to scoop her some off-brand Neopolitan and tell her she'd never see you again if that would help soften the blow. But it won't, and he knows that. He knows her too well to even try.

Still, he finds himself putting chocolate chips in her pancakes that morning in spite of himself.

When he places the plate in front of her, she narrows her eyes, as if to ask him what he's done so wrong. . . Asking what he's offering silent apologies for in the form of sweet pockets stolen away inside her favorite breakfast food. He opens the fridge in search of orange juice just to avoid her gaze.

Before she can even take a bite, he opens his mouth.

"Listen, Abby—"

She looks up at him with those big, doe eyes, and he probably would have cut himself off anyway if not for the knock on the front door. Mike mumbles for her to hold that thought, then goes to check who's outside.

And there you stand a little awkwardly on his doorstep, a brand new bottle of orange juice in your hand. Once again, it's like you've read his mind, and he's as sick of it as he is thankful for it, especially right now. Still, he can't turn you away.

"Morning," you say, almost hesitantly. "I brought juice. . ."

He tries to think of something to say, but hears the quick pitter-patter of Abby's feet fastly approaching. She calls your name so happily, and you smile at her.

"Good morning to you too," you laugh, returning the hug she gives you with no hesitation.

Mike just stares, as if he can't believe you're even here right now. If you're just here to grab the items of yours strewn about his house, he feels like the least you could have done was wait until Abby was asleep or something.

"Can I have some?" Abby asks, pointing to the orange juice in your hand.

"Yeah, that's what it's for," you smile, handing the bottle to her.

She scurries off to the kitchen to pour herself a glass.

"Mike," you say softly now that she's out of earshot, "can we—"

"I'll get your stuff together," he cuts you off.

Your jaw slacks.

"What?" Is the only thing you can manage to muster up in response.

"You could've done this at a different time," he snaps, trying to keep quiet so Abby doesn't hear. "It's gonna be ten times harder on her now for me to explain why you're not coming back."

You stare at him, trying not to cry. Out of all the things you expected to happen this morning, such a drastic change of heart on his part wasn't one of them.

"You. . . You're breaking up with me?" You question.

He pauses, a lot of the frustration dissipating from his features, replaced by genuine confusion.

"Didn't you already break up with me?" He asks.

Your brows knit together quizzically.

"No? What are you even talking about, I never said I wanted to break up with you," you point out.

Sure, you didn’t say it. But most of the others had never said it either. It was like flipping a lightswitch. One minute they were there, and the next they weren’t. That's why he'd gotten so good at keeping his relationships at a distance, and he'd taken the biggest leap of faith in introducing you to his sister.

"Yesterday evening?" He says, but it sounds more like a question.

"We had an argument," you acknowledge. "It was stupid, and you hurt my feelings. I'm sure I hurt yours too. That doesn't mean I want us to be over."

Mike stares at you like he's not sure what to say, because he isn't. He's not used to someone caring enough to fight for him, and for what festers between himself and someone else. He's learned to let go before the thread pulls too tight, —before it wraps around his throat and slices through every defense he's built up for the sake of protecting himself, his heart, and the little girl that depends on him.

"Mike," you say softly, almost cautiously. "I care about you. One bad night doesn't change that. . . Not for me."

God, it was stupid. It was so stupid. You weren't even mad at him specifically, and you're fairly certain he wasn't really angry with you in particular either. Long days on both your parts collided like a warm front to a cold one, and the things both of you said in the wake of it were uttered through venom and gritted teeth. Sweeping generalizations, a lot of rolling eyes, some tears that were more about frustration than they were anything else. . . But you still loved him at the end of it, even as you found yourself walking home alone.

In fact, that walk was particularly sobering. The crisp chill of the autumn evening was enough to convince you that you'd rather be back at his place where he keeps an extra toothbrush for you in the bathroom and emptied out a drawer just so you could have a place to store some clothes. The sleep you got in the night that followed was shallow at best, restless enough to leave faint bags beneath your eyes by morning, and you were determined to make up any excuse in the book just to swing by.

So you went out and got some orange juice, knowing there wasn't any left in the fridge, and you stood outside his door for a while, working yourself up just to knock. You thought about all the things you'd need to apologize for, and you were ready to push aside your ego if it meant Mike could understand just how much you care, even when you're upset.

He swallows, just to give himself something to do while he prolongs his own response, because he's just not sure what to say. Somehow, a part of him is whispering that this would be easier if you just didn't give a fuck. . . If last evening was the end, and he could go back to finding comfort in silence again.

That's how it's always been. Someone leaves, and he copes, and then he files them away with the rest. But here you are, and Mike knows he can't bring himself to put you in with the others.

"Mike, I'm—"

"No, I am," he breathes, reaching forward to pull you into his arms. "I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings, and I'm sorry that I suck at being a boyfriend, but I don't know what I'm doing and all I can tell you is that I'm trying."

He feels the tension meld away from you, and it's then, before you even open your mouth to reply, that he starts to think everything is how it should be.

"You don't suck at it," you answer lightly. "I know you're trying, and that's genuinely all I could ask for, and I'm sorry about yesterday evening. I was in a bad mood, and I took it out on you, and that wasn't right."

"We both took shit out on each other," he corrects, ready and willing to share the blame.

"True enough," you acknowledge with a weary smile, finally pulling away from his embrace.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "When things go wrong, I. . . I've just learned how to slam on the breaks. If I stop things before they feel like they'll suffocate me, I can avoid them. But I love you, and I know I don't want to avoid that."

"This isn't a one way street," you remind him. "Relationships are hard, and sometimes things happen in a way that they shouldn't, but I'm here for you, and I want to be here for you. . . It's not contractual. One bad night doesn't take away all the times you've made me feel like the happiest person on the face of the planet, Mike."

He sniffles a little, then lets out a relieved sigh.

"Are you hungry?" He asks. "I can make you some pancakes. Chocolate chip."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Chocolate chip? Are you apologizing to Abby for something?"

God, a part of him hates that he's so obvious, but another part loves that you know him so well. It makes him feel even stupider for just assuming that you'd be willing to throw in the towel after one rough night.

"No, not really," he shakes his head. (Not anymore, at least.)

Mike glances toward the kitchen, just to make sure Abby's still preoccupied with her breakfast, then steals a quick kiss from your lips.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

You smile.

"Me too."

"And I love you," he adds.

Your smile widens.

"I love you too. Promise."

With that, he pulls you to the kitchen, and you sit down beside Abby at the table. She tells you that when breakfast is done with, she'd like to show you some new drawings she's done, and you nod, telling her you're excited to see them. And you are.

Mike stands at the stovetop, his back to the both of you, not bothering to bite back his grin.

He feels his foot ease off the break.

#fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf movie mike #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt imagine #michael schmidt #micheal schmidt #abby schmidt #abby fnaf #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie x reader #five nights at freddys #reverse comfort #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt reverse comfort

275 notes · View notes

brabblesblog · 20 days

Text

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 10: Yes.

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Once in a while, right in the middle of a (not so) ordinary (un)life, love gives us a fairy tale.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Commissioned from my dear friend Leira Art <3

Astarion’s thigh was starting to get numb. Ban was on her stomach, stretched out beside him, her hands cradling her face. The unfortunate fact that her elbows were digging into his thigh was something she missed entirely.

He’d arranged for a small moonlit dinner in the gardens, just bedding laid over the grass and nothing but the moon and the stars to keep them company. It had seemed like the perfect idea after a long day of trying to broker some sort of arrangement between Shadowheart and the city about the now-abandoned Sharran cloister. Ban had gone to see Shadowheart for this purpose when she’d first come back to Baldur’s Gate; that had been the day the mirror had been delivered. The two had been coordinating in anticipation of today’s meeting ever since.

He sighed and flexed his leg in an attempt to get Ban to notice his discomfort. She shifted along with the muscle, but merely looked at him, smiling.

“You’ll have to move soon, else your poor husband loses his leg,” he remarked.

She lifted from his leg, smirking. “Nonsense. You’re undead. Regardless, bodies don’t work that way; all you’d get is a… spasm, of sorts, which I’m sure you can handle.” She gave him a soft pat on his beleaguered limb, playfully dismissive.

“As enlightening as you think that is, I actually do know what cramps are. Being undead doesn’t save you from that particular torture, as I’m sure you know.”

“Just teasing you,” she said amiably, lying down to rest her head on his thigh instead.

He looked down at her, admiring the way her hair fanned out in a halo around her head.

“Cramps, spasms… you’re all too familiar with such things, aren’t you?” He wrapped his fingers around her bicep, squeezing. “You’ve probably had more than your fair share, flailing about with that frankly ridiculous weapon of yours.”

“Says you.” Ban huffed, glaring good-naturedly at him. “You couldn’t even swing it, Astarion. You and your little crossbows and daggers…”

He laughed, sliding his hand over her shoulder. “You’ll have to tell me how you became so… forgive me, brawny.” Astarion watched her consider the question, eyes glazing over as she brought forth memories.

“After I ran away from my family, I found my way into the employ of an innkeeper, as a barmaid. Not a horrible place to earn your keep; they were kind enough to allow me to live in one of the rooms of the inn. But as in all such establishments, you occasionally get… unpleasant clientele.”

He rolled his eyes. Of course. “And so this was a way to protect yourself.”

“It was,” she agreed, “One day, a customer managed to get their hands on me; before anyone could intervene, I broke his nose. It was mostly a lucky shot, but the innkeeper saw potential in it. They had been a skilled fighter, and decided to pass their skills along to me. Over time, I built a small reputation keeping the peace in the tavern, took a shine to… all that, and eventually received offers from merchants and the like, to help out or provide protection.”

“With a greatsword?” he said, a little incredulous.

“No, although I wish I had. Merely a longsword; easier to handle, but a lot less impressive.” Her hands mimed swinging one, the movement quick and efficient, if inelegant.

His hands covered hers. “You’ll have to teach me how to wield a greatsword one day.”

Her answer was quick. “Not a chance you’ll have the patience for such a slow weapon, Astarion.”

He chuckled. “Truer words have never been spoken. Besides, finesse and dexterity are all you ever need, really.” He twirled their entwined hands, flipping an invisible dagger in the air. She giggled, and he watched their hands against the night sky, dancing amongst the stars.

“This was a brilliant idea. I’m impressed you came up with it.” He peered down at her as she spoke; he’d thought she’d passed into sleep - her eyes had been closed for some time.

“I’m far more capable than you give me credit for,” he scoffed. Since she was not asleep after all, he gave in to his lingering urge and wrapped his hands around her wrists, tugging her off his much-abused leg and up. Spreading his legs, he guided her to sit between them. She leaned against his chest, closing her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Far more romantic is what I would have said,” she corrected, “not that I’m complaining. But this is something that… I don’t know, Gale would have done.”

“Gale?” Astarion scoffed in mock offense, “I can do better than anything he could conjure up. Had you said Wyll, I’d have to admit I’d have a slight challenge on my hands.”

“A slight challenge?” Ban laughed, “It would be quite a bit more than a slight challenge for you to outdo Wyll in romantic gestures, Astarion.”

“Tell me, then. What would you consider the most romantic,” he rolled his eyes, “thing he’s done?”

Ban was silent for a moment, then raised a finger in an aha! gesture. “He gave up his life in Faerûn and followed Karlach to the hells.”

His stomach turned, the comment stinging as it hit sensitive spots. She said it in jest, but there was an underlying truth behind her playful words.

“You truly think I wouldn’t do the same for you?” He was a little piqued, the offense not entirely feigned anymore.

Ban shrugged, failing to sense the change in his mood. “And give up everything you have? Every bit of luxury? Your palace, your art, your suits… the sun? Why would you?” she quipped airily.

A soft hiss escaped him. “I would do anything for you; have already done so, to be frank. I’ve fought everything we’ve had to overcome, have I not? Everything we’ve ever faced. I fought for you, for us - fought our enemies, our companions, the Absolute, my master, myself…” he took a sharp, pained breath, “I have clawed my way through everything for the privilege of being the one by your side. Nothing would part me from you.” He clenched his jaw, his scowl deepening. “If anything, I should ask the same of you. Would you go to the hells for me?”

He watched her face. She barely considered the question and answered quickly - too quickly for his liking.

“I would, of course,” she replied, her tone still light and conversational, as if she didn’t take his statement or his question seriously. She smiled at him, but it did nothing but agitate him further.

Why would she take him seriously? It was hypothetical, nothing serious, even though his words had been from the heart. They’d even been to the hells before, however brief, although that was for thievery and to save the godsdamned world. For a moment his mind flashed to Haarlep, his daggers sinking into that cursed incubus’ flesh, for her, always for her-

“Forgive me for asking such an inane question, then,” he snipped, all mirth gone, “For the longest time I’ve felt… unsure. Of how much you love me.”

He’d always felt it, he realized. From their days on the road - wondering when she’d come to her senses and he’d be left to rot, to the early days of his ascension - wondering where she had gone though her body had still been there, to their eventual reconciliation - wondering if he’d ever be enough for her to love him as he did her. Always doubting, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was exhausted.

She blinked, surprised. “Don’t I tell you enough? I love you so, so much. Endlessly so.” He felt her body stiffen in his arms; it merely served to irritate him even more.

“You do say it more as of late, which I find gratifying. Thank you.” The bitterness bled into his voice; not that he’d tried very hard to mask it. “Whether you truly mean it or not remains in question, especially with how you’ve…” he tilted his head in that cold, arrogant way of his, a defense mechanism she hadn’t seen in awhile, “treated me, since we reconciled.”

She finally realized the extent of his pique, that it ran deep, and that her flippancy had reopened the wound. She lifted herself up to meet his gaze.

“Astarion, I… I am sorry. I-”

“Do not apologize, at least not yet.” He took a moment to clear his head; the Ascendant could never be allowed free rein in conversations like this. Never again. “I refuse to hear mere platitudes in an attempt to placate me. I wish for you to hear what I have to say, and should you feel it appropriate, you may do so then.” He was stern but holding the vitriol back. This needed to be said, but it need not be an argument.

“Alright.”

He watched as she pulled away from him. There was a sudden spike of fear there, one that dissipated when Ban stayed within the circle of his arms. She’d shifted just far enough so that she could meet his gaze.

“I’m listening. Say everything you need to say,” she said gently, offering him a nervous smile. She rested a hand on his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

I’m here. Her mind touched his, something she’d been doing more and more often these days. He let her in, lowered the walls he’d been hiding behind for so long.

“I am aware you love me. How can I not be, when you have shown me so time and again?” A small, rather sad smile graced his face as he spoke. “What concerns me is the intensity of it - rather, the strength and longevity of it, compared to mine.”

“Strength?” Her lips tugged downwards as she considered his words.

“But I… I did tell you. You’re enough. You’re all I want,” she sighed, “But I also know it’s probably not enough - they’re merely words.”

“I am enough, for now,” he corrected.

A small series of thoughts were passed to her: a memory of their argument after her discovery of the contract, moments when he’d expected her to commune with him but instead she retreated, times he’d hoped she’d feed from him and nourish herself with his blood in moments of intimacy, only for her to turn to their stores instead.

“Would I still be enough, were I to displease you again? We’ve discussed this, but I must confess that I haven’t been completely forthright with my feelings on the matter.”

He wanted to tell her how painful it had been; how reminiscent of being punished by his master it was - to a lesser degree, of course, but it opened the same wounds in him nonetheless. He found his heart failing him, unwilling to inflict pain. He wished he could say it but he couldn’t allow it, wouldn’t willingly hurt her, wouldn’t let her even see-

And what of it, if she treats me that way? I can handle it, have handled it for centuries. I’m not worth better; they’ve all drilled it into me - Cazador and his patrons, our companions, even her. She turned away from me when I was lost, shut me out when I tried to understand her, withheld her heart from me until I begged, wielded silence like a weapon when I didn’t behave. Yes, most of that was my own fault, but that merely serves to prove I’m unworthy of it all. Of her.

Just shut up, Astarion. Let whatever needs to happen happen. You don’t-

He felt the air in his lungs escape him as her arms crashed around him and held him tightly, so tightly it felt like it could bruise. He found himself pressed against her chest, realizing she was murmuring into his hair.

“No, no, don’t hide, please,” she whimpered, barely coherent, “You- I didn’t know, I didn’t see, and I know you’ve tried to tell me before but it felt like barbs you were throwing mid-argument. I didn’t want to see there was truth behind them. I’m them, aren’t I? I’m so sorry, Astarion, please.”

He let her hold him, allowed her to cry into his hair, fingers digging into his back with a desperation he hadn't seen in her before. His hands rubbed her back, but he didn’t speak. His thoughts had slipped into her mind as they’d flitted through his, he realized, but he didn’t regret it.

“I love you. I love you so godsdamned much and I realize I’ve been doing it wrong, not loving you the way you deserve. I’ve been neglecting your needs in favor of my own. I’ve been… all of them. Cazador, everyone who ever used you, even my wretched parents. I’m like them - I’ve been being everything I hated in them all and I’m just like them and I should just-”

Her frantic words cut off in a sharp intake of breath and she tried to pull away, her face stricken with horror. Astarion held on, refusing to let her go.

“Don’t go,” he crooned softly, as if calming a skittish animal, “because that would only serve to hurt me more. If you do love me so much then tell me. Show me. I need both in equal measure, my love.”

“I thought I was,” she choked out, “I thought I had been trying. And I’m not sure I’ve succeeded at all-”

She bit back a sob, refusing to allow her words to dissolve into tears. Not right now, when he deserved to hear more than sad blathering, knowing that his first instinct would be to backtrack. The tears came anyway, pooling in her eyes. She took several deep breaths to collect herself before continuing.

“There’s trying, and there’s not trying hard enough. I’ve been the latter; I see your pain and I make attempts in the moment, but then you seem better and I let myself carry on. I slip into old habits and behind walls that are all too easy to hide behind - and I let myself ignore what’s outside those walls.” She laughed, the bitterness evident. “Ironic, I think, that I’ve been doing what you did after the rite. I’ve been hiding myself from you, the way you hid yourself from me. You’ve tried so hard to heal my pain, attended to my needs, at the expense of your own… worked tirelessly at undoing the damage of those early months, and you’ve succeeded… but it was so easy for me to keep letting you do that, to be neglectful attending to you and your needs. To your heart. I will try to be better - No. I will be better. I swear it.”

And there were truths, painful ones, that needed to be said. She steeled herself; there wouldn’t be a better time.

“It has been better,” he assured, “These past weeks have been wonderful; they’ve soothed a lot of the ache. I suppose I merely wanted you to know, and even then I wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk of dredging up.”

“Oh, but it is. There’s something I should have told you, something I should have talked to you about the moment we reconciled, or any one of a hundred times since. I should have told you that although I never stopped loving you, and wanted to be with you again, I didn’t forgive you. That I resented what you’d done to me, resented it enough to keep holding it against you, to measure every good thing you did against the past - and I found it lacking.”

“Ban-” he tried to interrupt, his face a mask of worry, but she shook her head; her eyes begged him to allow her to do what he’d done for her barely more than a month ago. He quietened once more, tightening his grip on her, grounding them both.

“I withdrew at every sign of discomfort; I didn't even really try to trust you more, not outside of our bedroom, anyway… Even as I promised to work on us... I used affection as currency - I saw it as… justified retribution, at times. Not consciously, not deliberately, I don’t think, but neither did I deliberately try to move past those feelings. Even as I speak now I’m only now finding the words for it. All I know is I should have told you this, should have realized earlier what it was I was doing to you. I should’ve been fighting to improve myself, and our relationship, like you were, instead of putting all the burden and responsibility for my feelings and our happiness onto you alone.” She finally let him go enough to cup his cheek.

“We desperately need to learn how to talk, Astarion, as laughably simple as that sounds. Let’s both do what you promised to do for me - if we find ourselves unable to talk it out, we’ll use the connection to think it out, together.” He nodded in agreement and she sighed, calmer now, but no less agonized over these personal revelations.

“I wish I… hadn’t done any of that, or that we had found our way to talking about it earlier, but I also know how… recalcitrant I can be. And of course you feared yet another retreat, or worse, had you tried and it escalated. I didn’t make any attempt to talk about it, and you didn’t feel safe enough to try. We've both spent too long afraid to talk, me fearing compulsion and now you fearing abandonment.”

He chuckled. “On that I cannot refute you, and thus can provide no comfort. On the other hand, not all of my concerns are because of your transgressions, or mine. Some of it is concern about your… former mortality.”

Ban froze for a moment, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“It isn’t a fundamental issue, but if we are to talk about love, and its relative… longevity, even though such a concept is nebulous at best,” Astarion’s eyes flicked away, gathering the strands of the thought he was trying to piece together. “I suppose this is worth bringing into the discussion.”

She saw the way his eyes darted away, locking onto some distant spot; the way his shoulders squared, the bated breath. Even now he tries to diminish his own feelings to avoid upsetting me further. Now that she was watching for it, she couldn't believe she hadn’t seen it all this time - rather, that she had seen, but had refused to acknowledge it, so much so that it had stopped registering in her conscious mind. Never again, she vowed silently.

“What ‘this’?” She was confused, but allowed him the space to think.

He stayed unmoving for a few moments, then finally reached for her mind.

What flowed into her was immense - seemingly boundless stretches of time, of days flowing into months flowing into years, decades, centuries. The moon rising and setting, interminable nights of untold suffering and the rare, quiet moments in between, stretching seemingly endlessly. To her, it felt an eternity - although she knew this was a mere grain of sand in the infinity of time.

Fragments of memories, the earliest of which were mere wisps, lost to the weight of the centuries; then his time with Cazador, bathed in cruelty, a parade of bodies and the scents of rot and sex and filth, blood-red and tinged with pain and fear and anger and self-loathing, all blending together in one massive wave of anguish - then silence.

His year alone, she realized, a small gasp escaping her as he allowed her to see a fraction of how it had felt. The maddening isolation, the despairing, desperate prayers to every god ever named, his fingers bleeding throat raw stomach hollow every muscle aching mind racing and this is it forevermore the four corners of this cold tomb please let me die please-

“Astarion,” she cried out, gripping his shoulder, trying to stop him from spiraling. Those beautiful eyes locked onto hers and to her surprise he was calm. He took her hand, squeezing it.

The memories shifted. The colors became more vivid, the smells became warm and heavenly in comparison to everything else before. The chirping of birds. The smell of grass and earth. Sunlight. Blood from a boar, warm and so, so much of it, and his stomach had never felt so full…

Footsteps, a blade held to someone’s throat. Cautious, hesitant trust. The smell of thinking blood, so close he could lean in and taste it. Laughter. Voices. Her voice. His teeth, sinking in, that first taste forever dooming him to crave it, crave her. Their first nights together, the push-pull of his heart and mind, warring between thinking her a gullible fool and the flickering ember of warmth and affection in his chest.

I want us to be something real.

But not merely real; thiramin - passionate, true, eternal. Nights under the stars. Fighting back to back, daggers and sword flowing seamlessly. Banter by the campfire. Frustration as he regarded her hands, trying to teach her how to pick locks, only for her to give up and smash the chest with one swing of her sword. Those same hands, touching him with an aching tenderness. Uneasiness slowly morphing into trust and then into comfort and then longing, into home. Touch me love me see me be with me, forever and longer than that. I love you, I love you and I will say it, soon, every single day, when I am free.

His eyes left hers, downcast as the memories continued to flow.

Power, as it flowed into him, exhilaration drowned by the look on her face and the disgust in her heart until all he felt was loss and anger, that the thing he loved most would slip through his fingers when freedom was finally his. Regret, still stabbing even to this day. Visions of her face, cold and angry and at times frightened. His voice, commanding, demanding her subservience - on your knees, a finger pointing downwards. The denial of any vulnerability - rebuffing her when she reached for him, admonishment for the attempt. The slow corruption of what was between them.

Astarion didn’t shy from it, his hand merely tightened on hers. The stream of recollections didn’t stop, but his eyes flicked back to hers.

The agony of losing her, the hopelessness, the emptiness. The slow process of prying open his heart once more, at first nearly impossible and then increasingly easy. The sheer joy of seeing her smile at him again, her face emblazoned into his mind. Memories of more recent, happier times. Elation mixed with spikes of anxiety whenever she retreated from him - confusion, worry, fear. And finally, the slow ebbing of those feelings, contentment suffusing more and more of the final visions, the doubt ever-smaller, more easily brushed away.

And then she was seeing through his eyes, he through hers, here in the garden with no other soul, only the stars in the sky. One last feeling - love - and he retracted from her mind, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Ban snapped back to reality, to her own mind, reeling. In front of her Astarion looked fond, his hand still cradling hers, waiting for her to settle before he continued.

“A long time to live, and I am still young for an elf,” he began, “I would assume the weight of it infinitely more burdensome for someone as young as you, from a short-lived race.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t contest that. Were I not turned, I would have died within the century.”

“But you will not,” Astarion reminded, “I am merely concerned about your capability of loving steadfastly, long past the normal span of your lifetime. The constancy required for a love that spans millennia, that follows us through reincarnations… It is something elves are born with. It is not so for humans. I simply… wanted to bring it to light.”

“Astarion,” she said, voice tinged with hurt, “Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I will fall out of love with you in a century or two. No one can know the future, but I swear to you - I will love you for however long this-” she gestured between them, “-undeath lasts, love you the best that I am able. Eternity, if it comes to that.”

Ban weighed her words, weighed the visions he’d allowed her to see. “I know I can’t prove anything today. The future is never set, and I’ve hurt you. I have no idea how to measure our love, to even consider if they are things to be compared against each other-”

“They are not,” he assured her, “But I appreciate that they have now been spoken out loud. That I am understood, seen, and that you do not disagree.”

“If that’s the case, I can promise to continue comprehending. To… see you, fully, even when it’s uncomfortable for me. To understand, to do better. To listen and care, and love. To work toward your happiness as much as my own. To fight for us, always. I can’t prove it today, but I will prove it. From today, until forever.” She made this vow without hesitation or reservation, and with utter sincerity.

Astarion smiled at her, a soft, almost hesitant smile, one that told her she’d soothed a lot of his heartache, before leaning his forehead to touch hers. They sat, quietly, absorbing one another’s feelings through their bond.

“Astarion…” She lifted his hand and placed it over her heart as she spoke; his brows raised in surprise. They had spent a long time in heavy but comfortable silence, basking in the closeness of their shared emotions. Hearing her speak aloud nearly startled him, but he was eager to hear what she may have to say.

She waited until his eyes met hers, until that slight surprise passed into curiosity. He held her gaze, lips parted as if to speak.

“Let me get this out,” she interjected before he could respond. His lip quirked, eyes narrowing, his brows shifting into an expression of wry, if fond, amusement.

Ban locked her gaze onto those beloved crimson irises, ignoring everything else. If she considered any more of his beautiful face, she was sure her courage would fail her. She’d been thinking about this, had been considering it for a long while before the mirror, before her family came back into their lives. She had lain awake thinking of it as she was cradled in his arms, had almost spoken it into being numerous times in post-coital bliss or in quiet, happy moments. It had never been quite the right time - something had always come up - whether it be some small quarrel they had, some playful remark that derailed her line of thought, or simple cowardice. She’d let her lingering doubts serve as excuses, but the idea never went away for long. This finally felt like the right time, to finally fully open herself to him, to let her faith and love and trust shine through in actions, as well as words.

She felt her hand shake, tears threatening to blur her vision, and swallowed hard.

“I figured I would say this sooner or later, or if I’d kept letting my cowardice win then later than sooner, to be frank. It’s been on my mind for…. Well, I’m not even sure how long, but it’s been a long time. It first crossed my mind that it would make sense, politically - legally it would make sense as well: properties, assets, all that - and no one would question the legitimacy of our union, would solidify alliances and our good standing, and-”

Her words were cut off by a soft laugh. He leaned in, keeping his hand over her unusually fast heart, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Keep going,” he urged, his tremulous voice filled with a hunger she barely recognized, and although he was smiling, his eyes were misty and intensely focused, as if not a single other thing existed in the world besides her, and him, and this moment. “I think I’d rather like to hear what else you have to say.”

She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, so she gave up trying. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I love you.”

“I’m aware,” Astarion responded, the picture of patience. “And you’re well aware of how much I adore you in turn.”

“This isn’t… politically it does make sense,” she said again, knowing full well she was repeating herself. “But I don’t want you to think that, I- I’m not doing this because it makes sense. It- that’s not it, and I’ve just been thinking it and it’s not that, do you un-”

This time it was his lips on hers that interrupted her, a soft caress that was unhurried and filled with nothing but reassurance. He held the back of her head, keeping her close. She allowed herself to melt against his parted lips, allowed his tongue to slip in and explore her, but he barely dipped in before retreating. He didn’t speak, merely gave her a small nod, thumb wiping away a falling tear.

She took several deep breaths, collecting her thoughts as best she could; she was appalled how much she had fumbled it thus far. “I’ve thought about saying it so many times, and in just as many ways. When I was lying in your arms, when I’d made you laugh, over meals, when we talked about our plans, even when we argued…” She shook her head. “Gods, even before that. I fantasized about it that first night in the clearing - stupid and naive, I know, but there it is. It just kept popping into my head, ever-present, always a wonderful daydream that I daren’t speak into existence. I was afraid I’d ruin it.. I knew… I knew it would seem cold, calculated, because there is so much benefit to our goals in it, and I didn’t want it to be for that. I didn’t want to say it when you might think it was only about that, because it isn’t, not at all. And then the time never felt quite right, and I was so scared of making you feel it was cheapened by politics…” She sighed, pausing again to gather her courage.

The words finally managed to leave her mouth. “I want… forever. I want what you wanted, all this time. To be real.” Another shaky breath, and she saw the smile on his face fade, replaced by an eagerness framed with such tenderness it almost broke her. “I was your first. I want to be your last. I want you to marry me. Say yes, please.”

“Ban,” Astarion chuckled. It was a soft, wet sound, his sniffling ruining the intended effect. “You merely had to say ‘will you marry me’ and it would have sufficed.” He flapped a hand dramatically. “You could have gone with some quip, like ‘if you turned me into your bride, why don’t we make it real’ or some comment about how I already call you my wife…” He trailed off as he realized she’d begun to sob, shoulders shaking.

“Love… yes. Of course yes!” He shook his head at the utter idiocy of this moment, of how she’d assumed, even for a moment, that he’d refuse, as if all that babble wasn’t just his own nervousness coming to the fore, the old theatrics a way to defuse strong emotions. He pulled her to him tightly, pressing her to him, his joy overwhelming him as he felt her return the hug with just as much strength.

Yes. Of course, yes. Astarion recognized it for what it was - a large step - and felt joy suffuse him. I am seen, chosen, cherished, loved… I am enough! Everything he’d wanted and had ever needed, condensed into the being of this magnificent person he held in his arms. He pulled away to peer at her face and she shied away, cuddling deeper against him, as if she could stay there forever to avoid his prying eyes.

“Darling, your tears will stain my shirt,” he chided, as if he wasn't crying himself, tears streaking all over his own face. There was a muffled sorry and she let him go, her hands moving to cover her face; he was quick enough, however, and caught her wrists.

“There’s no need to hide, nor cry for that matter,” he murmured, blinking his own tears away. “This is a happy moment. We’re to be wedded, for real this time - not that it matters, really,” he scoffed. “I’ve considered us husband and wife for, gods, I don’t even know how long.” That made her smile, at least, and she finally opened her eyes, although she hadn’t looked him in the face yet.

“Do indulge your to-be-husband, Ban. First, don’t enlist a cleric to officiate the ceremony. I won’t stand for religious prattle. And second, I want to be wed quickly. No more than a month.”

“A month we can do. As for the other, I was thinking Ulder might help us,” she finally said. He blinked in surprise, impressed.

“So you have planned this,” he mused. “You figured you could pull favors from dear Wyll’s old man, get a wonderful ceremony, and consolidate political influence, all in one fell swoop.” He clapped his hands in amusement. “I’m impressed.”

“Well there was also the fact that I get to marry you,” she quipped, eyes still pointedly staring at his chin instead of his face.

Astarion placed a hand under her chin, tilting her face up. “I know,” he murmured. “I know all too well.”

He leaned in close, slotting his lips against hers. This time he didn’t pull away, allowing the kiss to intensify. He waited for her to part her lips then pushed his tongue in, tasting and devouring. Finding a fang, he pressed his tongue against it, longing for her to taste him.

When they parted he was breathless, eyes locked onto her face. “How long have you been considering this?”

“A while,” came the answer, spoken hurriedly as he pulled her on top of him, lying back onto the dewy grass. “After the clearing, it was a daydream - a silly, romantic wish. I first thought of it as more than a fantasy, in terms of the political benefits, shortly after we reconciled, but of course didn’t really think seriously on it then. In terms of when it became something I definitely wanted, for myself - for us… When we had the ball to celebrate our first year. I could see us doing that, but instead of celebrating an anniversary, it would be our wedding.”

“Then why not ask me earlier? That was months ago.” He shivered at the feeling of her lips pressing against the base of his ear; Ban was obviously seeking to correct previous shortcomings. He felt her trail a small path of kisses across his jaw, and then the underside and down his throat. He sat up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows, baring his neck to her, a plea for her to continue. “Did you think I would be so foolish as to decline forever with you, when that’s all I’ve longed for?”

“I thought you would find the ceremony involved trite; like you said, you already obviously considered us wedded,” Ban said. “I also didn’t want you to think it was merely a political move. I didn’t know how to make it romantic and not… pragmatic.” There was a quick pause and then her lips were replaced by fangs, cautiously scraping against his skin, far more hesitant than he would have been. The sensation sent a wave of delight straight to his groin, regardless. “I apologize that I haven’t been feeding from you. It’s not you. I- it’s taken a long time to be comfortable with what I am now.”

“Forgiven.” Astarion purred as her hand wrapped around his nape, guiding his head to the angle she desired. Fingers caressed the curls at the base of his neck, sending more shivers racing along his body. He’d known of her issues coming to terms with her undeath - he’d been hoping learning how to use her powers would help finally ease her into it. That being why she rarely sank her fangs into him was a significant relief, chasing even more of his concerns away. “It is trite,” he admitted, a small sigh escaping his lips as he pressed his hips against hers. “As much as I do agree - doing so will solidify your legitimacy as my partner, afford you more respect, provide a wondrous opportunity to host a grand ball, provide ample chance for mingling, and bind us together in a new way, one that I want very much. I am no fool; I am not incapable of knowing both can be true at the same time.”

“I know you’re not. I just didn’t want you to-”

“To be hurt,” he agreed, placing a hand over his chest dramatically, the effect significantly lessened by the fact that he was painfully hard. The comfort at her openness, in the acknowledgment of his hurts, the balm of her promises, the all-encompassing joy of their engagement, the pleasant weight of her straddling him, grinding against him, the press of her fangs against his neck… It all blended, forming an irresistible cocktail of desire. “Darling. I’m touched. A little insulted you’d think me that incognizant,” he chuckled as she huffed at him, “but very, very glad you have thought of me - worried for me.”

“That being sa-'' he began to say, but the words were aborted in favor of a low, undignified whine as her fangs finally found their mark, sinking into his neck. Pain and icy coldness spread from the pinprick wounds as she drank - rather clumsily in his opinion - the pain quickly followed by pleasure. His hips bucked as her fingers gently traced the edge of his ear. “You- ah- might want to suck and then swallow, instead of… whatever it is you’re attempting to do.” He shifted to center his cock against her, allowing her to feel all of him with every grind of her hips.

Ban opened her mouth to snap out a retort, forgetting to lick the wounds to stem the flow beforehand. Blood gushed and she swore, tongue immediately latching onto his neck to seal them shut.

Astarion snorted. “Messy, Ban. Whatsoever would you do if you actually did have to drink someone dry? You’d have half of it spill.” He took a look at his shirt and sighed. “There’s also the fact that you ruined my sh…”

He cut off with a groan, her wicked tongue lapping harder at his neck, sliding down to his collarbone, licking the blood that had pooled there. A soft snap heralded his shirt being torn open, buttons flying off in every direction, baring his chest. There was another sharp flash of painful pleasure as she nipped at the hard planes of his chest, nicking him slightly above a nipple; he opened his eyes to see her licking at the small rivulets of blood.

“Fuck the shirt,” she said, eyes glinting mischievously. “I want you to forget everything but my name.”

He swallowed, his skin feeling a little too tight, and his cock gave a long throb at her words. He was rather taken aback, surprised by the uncommon forwardness; he delighted in it, in fact. “You’ll have to try harder than that.” Not that he thought she’d have a hard time of it - Ban knew him as well as he her, and all she had to do was place her finger-

But that wasn’t a finger, was it?

She’d slid up his body again, pressed a kiss against his lips - quick and hurried - and before he knew it she’d taken his ear into her mouth, sucking it once. Hard.

The sensation was gone as soon as it came - wet and hot and tingling all around his ear, almost overwhelmingly intense for that split second. He whined at its loss, hips violently jerking up against hers, cock straining against his trousers.

There was want, there was need, but there was also desperation.

“You utter…” He shook his head. “Where did you learn that from?” More, he thought, I need more.

Ban laughed, pulling away to shoot him a wry grin. “A couple of suggestions from friends, here and there…”

He groaned. “Shadowheart?”

“Perhaps.”

He felt her hand snake down, wrapping around his clothed length; his hips canted upwards of their own accord to meet her, seeking friction. The other hand traced an ear, tongue swirling around a nipple and gods he refused to come like this, at least not tonight…

“That’s quite enough.” There was no bite in his tone - he thought it impossible at the moment - but she paused long enough for him to lean her back until she was underneath him. One long, hard thrust - pressing his cock against her, fabric the only thing between them and oh gods he could feel how wet she was - and he pulled away enough to flip her over.

“Was it too much?” She propped herself up, looking at him over her shoulder with careful, slightly concerned eyes. Astarion shook his head.

“On the contrary; I want more of it, much more - but later, else this won’t be a long enough nor a worthy enough encounter for our engagement night.” He considered her, laid out in front of him, eyes and body beckoning to him. “On your stomach, darling,” he whispered, pleased at how quickly she obeyed, lying flat and resting her head on her hands, the muscled expanse of her back and ass presented to him. He ran his hands up the back of her legs, slipping under her dress, fingers digging into each ass cheek before rucking the garment up and off, tossing it to the side.

She turned to look at him, amused. This he matched with a wry grin of his own as he sat up and made a show of stripping off his trousers - slowly undoing the laces, hooking his fingers under the waistband and tugging them down inch by painstaking inch to reveal pale, perfect hipbones, running a hand over the tented outline of his cock, causing her to bite back a moan. She knew Astarion was fully aware of how he looked: bloody shirt torn open, wounds already closing, grass in his hair, cockhead finally slipping out of his trousers. He stroked himself again, eyes locked onto her.

“Hurry up, you tease,” she admonished, rolling her hips to briefly lift her ass up in the air.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Trousers and underwear were roughly tugged down and kicked off. He crawled towards her and she began to spread her legs in anticipation, but he stopped her with a gentle touch. Guiding her thighs back together, he slid his legs on either side of hers. He grasped himself as he shoved her underwear to the side, sliding across her folds, rubbing himself against her.

She watched him throughout all this, her look of amusement changing into one of lust. He gave her one last smug smirk, then slowly sank inside her; the position made the fit deliciously tight, but she was so wet he slipped in without difficulty, burying himself to the hilt. They both groaned when his balls pressed against her.

He leaned forwards, palms gripping the small of her back, thrusting into her. Utterly perfect, that tight, wet, heat that was taking him so well, the feeling of being home. His thrusts gradually lost their slow pace as his self control dissipated. With every stroke he could hear her moan, feel her clenching all around him in an exquisite rhythm that was only her, could only ever be her-

He wrapped his hands around her waist, urging her to sit up. He sent an image over their connection, showing her what he wanted, and she had to bite back a moan of anticipation. He knelt as her legs slipped out from under him, watched hungrily as she straddled him, her back arching against his chest as she slid down onto his length once more. Her ass was pressed wonderfully against him and she began to ride him slowly, gliding her hips languorously, keeping him deep inside her. He rolled his hips up into her, working with the rhythm of her movements, slipping a hand lower to part her folds and find her clit, tracing circles in a slow but insistent pattern.

“Astarion, I love you,” she groaned out. “I’ve always loved you. Have always wanted you, longed for you, needed you. You… you deserve everything - love, happiness, the world. I haven’t been the best at giving it to you, but I swear I will. I’ll love you and cherish you and choose you, over and over again, in every lifetime and beyond. My life didn’t really even start until you. You were my real beginning, my future… you’ll be with me at the end, and for every step in between. You’re the part I’ve always been missing, the half that makes me whole, the other half of my soul. There’s only ever been you, there will only ever be you.” She was babbling, words spilling freely, words she had kept behind walls for so long.

Words he had always needed to hear. Words that only fueled his desire and joy, that brought tears to his eyes and drew a whimper from his lips, hips thrusting faster in response. What he had hoped she’d be to him for so long, finally reciprocated. In her own words, yes, but very much the same. He breathed the words out into their bond, hoping she understood.

My thiramin. Finally. My very own. I’ve waited for you for so long.

They both sighed, both overwhelmed by the headiness of the moment, their bodies moving in unison. Their grinding gradually began losing rhythm as they both approached their peak, the quiet gasps and groans becoming more urgent. His hand snaked up her body to her neck, fingers wrapping below her chin to pull her head back; she felt him press his lips against her pulse, then replace them with fangs.

“I should show you how it’s done,” he purred. “How to bite perfectly, to suck, to swallow, to lick.” Each word was accompanied by the action itself. A small nip, enough to break skin and draw blood, then pleasant suction, and then loud, exaggerated swallows, accompanied by moans of satisfaction breathed right beside her ear. In conjunction with those talented fingers on her clit and the unhurried rhythm of their lovemaking, it was almost too much, but she never wanted to stop.

She leaned into his touch, arching her back and neck to give him even more access. Tangling her fingers in his curls, she tugged, urging his head forward. He followed her lead, eyes closed. She could tell he was close, possibly even closer than she was - his short, rapid panting, the now-frantic rolling of his hips, the fingers on her clit losing their tempo - she saw it all, saw her husband lost in her, lost in his pleasure and joy, and she intended to give him more.

He was pressed tightly against her, jaw digging into her shoulder as he drank from her neck, his eyes roved down her body, watching everything. He was so focused, so lost, he didn’t even register her movement as she shifted to wrap her lips around his ear again. She took it in and gave a long, firm lick and then a sudden suck, swallowing as she did.

She felt him come before she heard it - the sharp, hard jerk of his hips, the sudden, violent slam of his cock so deep inside her it bordered on pain, and the fingers on her neck tightened, overwhelming her with sensation. His loud, whimpered gasp followed a half a heartbeat later, quickly chased by his low, guttural moan as he spilled inside her. The feeling was so intimate, so delicious, so perfect and she came undone as well, clenching tightly around him over and over as their joint pleasure took them both.

Perfect, his cock buried in her, her spasming around every inch of him, his fingers working her through their orgasms. Suddenly, their minds linked, each reaching for the other at their peak, reveling in the joy and the love and the overwhelming pleasure the other felt. Her clit, his cock, his hand on her neck, her fingers in his curls, his ear between her lips, her nails digging into his thigh - every sensation mixed together in a golden spiral that was magnificent and wonderful and beautiful and euphoric and consuming and it was everything and then suddenly it became too much. They instinctively drew away from the contact, the edges of it having become too keen, leaving them both overstimulated, overwhelmed, and a bit delirious.

Their bodies slowed in unison and they collapsed into each other as the last waves washed over them. She leaned heavily against him; he released her neck and held her close.

“That,” Ban said, licking her lips shakily, “was new.”

“Far newer than even you intended,” he agreed. “I however found it glorious - both things, in case you were wondering.”

Ban nodded. “That last thing we’ll have to use sparingly, I think. I…” she sighed, feeling lightheaded. It was amazing, far more intense than the time they’d melded minds while touching themselves before their reconciliation. Remember, Ban, openness, she admonished herself. She found it easy to do, suddenly realizing the lack had been more a force of habit than any actual need to hide, for awhile now. “It was amazing, much more intense than when we shared our pleasure from afar.” Her voice was quiet, almost distant, her mind struggling to retain thoughts in the aftermath.

“Agreed.” Astarion’s voice cut through the haze in her head, and he slowly repositioned them, turning her in his arms to cradle her in his lap. She could see him peering at her, the concern in his gaze obvious. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yes, just a bit adrift, like my mind is more exhausted than my body. I do think I’ll need a break after this, though,” she admitted.

He hummed softly, thoughtful. “Perhaps it would be a good time to bring back that idea we had - that little game we wanted to play. We agreed on a tenday, yes?”

Ban chuckled, tickled even through her exhaustion. “I’ll do you one better. Not until our wedding.”

“Not until-” Astarion cursed. “Gods. You are evil, you know that? You give me the best meal of my life and then decide on a month-long fast - evil. Unmercifully, unrepentantly evil.”

“It’s a yes or a no, Astarion.”

He smiled, seemingly pleased at the prospect despite his complaints. “It is not unprecedented amongst elven mates, to fast in this way, for long periods, to heighten the pleasure…” he mused, a devilish smirk blooming at the thought. “I’d very much like to see how intense things can be after a month’s respite.”

“Yes, or no,” she pressed.

He laughed. “Yes, darling. Yes to everything.”

To every question she’d asked today, to every one she would ask from this little game to eternity - yes.

Bonus: Was listening to this song while writing this chapter!

Taglist: @tavamarie @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decedentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind @pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @midnight-musings-of-nyx @toni-winchester @icybluepenguin @beepersteeper @hereliesblackdragon @generalstephkenobi

109 notes · View notes

bridenore · 19 days

Text

HD longer fics recs : 90k to 100k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 90k and 100k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here and between 100k and 125k here.

Allegiance and Sedition by SilentAuror [98k]

The war is in its fifth year, and Harry finds himself caught up in the confusion of friend versus enemy, spy versus traitor.

At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 [91k]

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

A Case of You by @epitomereally [97k]

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

Chasing Dragons by @the-sinking-ship [98k]

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-it [94k]

Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.

Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

Hermione Granger’s Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]

‘You’re a wizard, Harry’ is easier to hear from a half-giant when you’re eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you’re seventeen and late for work.

How I Met Your Father by @dracogotgame [95k]

Harry sits his kids down and tells them a story. A very long story.

How To Train Your Malfoy by @fencer-x [93k]

Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di [93k]

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he’s a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998’s 15th reunion isn’t welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives.

Light up the Night by Saras_Girl [98k]

This year, despite his better judgement, Harry’s love life is going off with a bang. Advent fic 2019.

Season of the Spirit by Saras_Girl [95k]

It starts with a swan. What happens after that is a bit of a mystery. 2018 advent story.

The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]

Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasn’t meant to be anything more.

Tempus Fugit by Poison Pen [90k+]

A monumental cock-up in Potions means that Harry and Draco have more to contend with than mutual enmity. A journey of discovery, self-reflection and love.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid [99k]

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry’s justice is his ticket back to everything he’s lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy’s world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs

113 notes · View notes

jonphaedrus · 1 year

Text

been seeing a lot of posts about how glasses (and the way society acts about normalized glasses/vision correction) are great examples of how important accessibility tech for disabilities—and effective monetary coverage for those things—is. took a walk today without my glasses and remembered all over again that those posts are right and the normalization of glasses as accessibility tech, as fashion, as something people just "have" is essential and very good but also we should never forget they are actually correcting for a disability.

if you need glasses—even if your vision is fine without them, but especially if your vision is really significantly impaired without them—there's no piece of advice i wish people talked about more often than the fact that you should always, always always, have a contingency plan of how to get around without your glasses. you should know how to change the accessibility settings to make your phone or computer usable, even if you don't have your glasses on while you're doing it. if your vision is significantly impaired enough without your glasses that you wouldn't feel safe moving around outside of the home, you should look into getting, and learning to use, a tactile cane. you should know how to read the tactile labelling for elevators and signs and recognize where you are without being able to read street signs. you should keep the stuff to repair your glasses in your bag/purse/suitcase, you should know how to navigate your home, feed yourself, clean yourself, and find and ask for help without your glasses.

my vision was already significantly impaired before i broke my glasses in 2018, but i "technically" see 20/20 with my correct scrip and i hadn't taken the time to be proactive with accessibility tech on my phone or my laptop. i could get around without them using a tactile cane and backup sunglasses and having walked around the city without them, but i couldn't check my email, grade my papers, play games with my friends, or call my husband for help. i had to crash-course learn all of that in less than a week.

making use of accessibility technology to make things easier to use without your glasses can make it easier to use with them on, too. reducing eye strain and headaches because the font is of a size that's more readable or you have twilight cutting your blue light or you have tinted lenses that help fix glare from fluorescent lights or the sun, redoing the colors on a game to be easier to see or turning off significant shadows, marking buttons on your remotes or your keyboards or your light switches, being able to find food in your kitchen without having to check labels, all of that?? there's nothing wrong with that. you should learn to do it.

in a worst-case scenario, where you break or lose or don't otherwise have your glasses, being able to do basic tasks like use your phone, navigate around outside your home, or get food could save your life. the rest of the time, there's no reason to make seeing harder on yourself, and these technologies exist to be used.

i just wish more people, especially more people who are significantly vision impaired without their glasses, would be proactive and make plans and learn how to exist without their glasses. it's important! it's really important! don't forget that they're still accessibility technology correcting for a significant disability!

#post brought to you by vision impaired guy #please my friends.... learn how to live with and around your glasses.#there's always the possibility of something going wrong #and maybe your life will be easier if you look at other coping mechanisms that aren't JUST corrective lenses

696 notes · View notes

laurenkmyers · 2 months

Text

Summary:

a sweet little smut fic highlighting Chen Yi's possessiveness and the ensuing chaos of navigating his relationship with Ai Di. ao3

Chen Yi knows Ai Di is a jealous person.

Every instance where Boss rings and Chen Yi instinctually picks up on the first ring is always accompanied with Ai Di’s face screwing up as he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like an insult thrown in his direction. But what Ai Di doesn’t realise is that it’s entirely reflex. If I ring, you pick up has been drilled into his life since he joined the Chen family. It’s not going to stop overnight, no matter how much Ai Di wishes it would.

But Chen Yi now at least understands why Ai Di acts this way. He understands a little too well what Ai Di’s jealousy looks like, a deep-rooted fear of abandonment and a life of yearning for something he never thought he’d ever get takes its toll. But Chen Yi does everything in his power to make up for the feelings he knows Ai Di tries and fails to hide from him.

What Chen Yi can’t seem to comprehend though is his own jealousy. He never thought of himself as a jealous man. A little possessive, maybe, but never jealous.

Recently, however, he seems to have pushed those limits to the brink.

He always knew he hated Ai Di’s insistence on running that goddamn bar, and now that he owns it he’s there more often than he’s not, and that wouldn’t be an issue if Chen Yi wasn’t also hyperconscious of Ai Di’s history with the men who frequent his bar.

Chen Yi was always privy to the way Ai Di slept around, even more aware of the way that used to feel like a punch to the gut each time he’d witness another man’s tongue in Ai Di’s mouth. But he never let himself think too deeply on why it made him feel that way, it was simply easier to brush it under the rug and let the knot unfurl in his stomach the moment Ai Di returned to him. Because he always did return.

Ai Di never stayed the whole night at his hook ups, no matter what time of the night it was, he would always return home to Chen Yi, and the routine was always the same. He’d open Chen Yi’s bedroom door and linger for a moment before heading to his own room.

On those kinds of evenings Chen Yi got into the habit of leaving his door ajar, though he never really knew why at the time, other than the thought of it bringing Ai Di a sense of comfort and that was usually his top priority. He now knows that it had become a comfort to him too, knowing his boy had come back to him.

Now that Ai Di belongs to him in every way, it’s increasingly harder to ignore the way hungry eyes linger on his boy. Chen Yi knows Ai Di would never stray, and he also knows that the men Ai Di used to fool around with were just meaningless fucks to ease the pain of his yearning when Chen Yi was too stubborn to notice that Ai Di’s heart belonged to him from the very beginning.

Thankfully, Chen Yi isn’t the asshole breaking Ai Di’s heart anymore, he’s the one who gets to look after it. And despite the fact he’s staked his claim with matching dog tags and the many additions to Ai Di’s rather impressive collection of collars, men still think they can look and occasionally touch what doesn’t belong to them.

It drives Chen Yi to the point of literal insanity.

Tonight is no different.

When Chen Yi arrives at the bar just after 2am it's to a visual of Ai Di dancing next to some faceless man who can't seem to keep his goddamn hands to himself. Chen Yi’s immediate response to seeing another man’s hands on Ai Di, innocent or not, is normally to haul ass over there and pull Ai Di back where he belongs, but for some reason he’s rooted to the spot, watching the gentle grind of Ai Di’s hips as they sway to the beat of the song. Chen Yi is stuck, mesmerised by the way his boy moves his tiny body, the lazy smile that graces his face, the slow trace of his hands as they make their way over his head.

Chen Yi may have been late in distinguishing his complicated feelings for the boss and the way they differ from the way he’d convinced himself he felt for Ai Di, but one thing that was never complicated was the way he always had his eyes on Ai Di. Never letting him sway too far away, and when it did inevitably reach a point where Ai Di slipped from his line of sight, he always made it everyone’s fucking business. Rounding up the troops to find Ai Di.

Now is no different, but the implications behind his possessive thoughts are much clearer and far less innocent than they once pretended to be. Especially in moments like this, as Chen Yi’s hungry eyes latch on to a single drop of sweat as it slides caressingly down Ai Di’s collared neck.

Chen Yi openly watches its descent until it eventually tucks itself neatly into the piece wrapped lovingly around Ai Di’s throat and when the fog finally settles at its destination Chen Yi’s entire body betrays him. His head fills with cotton and a choked breath escapes his lungs and forces it way out of his lips as the burning inferno inside him ramps up to its highest setting.

He’s now aware only of the sweat dripping down his own neck in response and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the realisation that Ai Di is wearing his most recently acquired collar.

The collar Chen Yi gifted him for their joint birthday.

The collar that was meant to be worn only in the privacy of their bedroom.

The collar with the words ‘Boss Chen Yi’ engraved into the heart of the leather.

Chen Yi’s traitorous cock twitches painfully in his pants as he realises the implications of Ai Di’s choice in collar for this evening.

The possessiveness claws at his insides like a feral beast.

Chen Yi is fighting for his life.

But all too suddenly the moment shifts, twisting into something ugly and dark as the brainless oaf, who’d been nothing but an afterthought in Chen Yi’s horned-up mind, decides to put his filthy lips on Ai Di’s body.

And something inside Chen Yi snaps.

Desperation and possessive rage liquify the cotton into something brittle and jagged and suddenly all Chen Yi is able to process is the most painful way he can kill a man with his bare hands.

With those thoughts in mind, Chen Yi storms the crowd of scantily clad boys and men, who part on instinct, the way prey scatters whilst being hunted in the wild, and it leaves his path so spectacularly clear that it’s a shock even to him how easy his target just became.

The force of impact upon landing, plus Ai Di’s impulsive nature, already with half a retort in his mouth, forces the boy to swing round just in time to catch the full scope of Chen Yi’s rage as he pummels the pathetic excuse of a man to the ground. Chen Yi’s fist flies back and forth as blood splatters across his knuckles.

Blinded by pure instinct alone, Chen Yi hears nothing over the sound of his fist connecting with soft flesh, and the satisfying crunch of bone. He pulls back one final time when other sounds pop back into the scope of his brain and halt him in his track.

Ai Di’s voice calling his name is all it takes for Chen Yi to stop, the rage slowly dissipates and the world shifts back into focus. All he knows now is the fire in Ai Di’s eyes as he drags Chen Yi’s face to look at him and the soft words that follow, “Take me home.”

Home, yeah, great fucking idea.

Chen Yi doesn’t know how they make it out of the club or how they make it back to their bedroom, but what he does know is the taste of Ai Di on his tongue as he laps at the sweat still sitting beneath his collar before moving up to devour is boys mouth with teeth and tongue.

“Christ, Chen Yi- what’s gotten into you?” Ai Di moans into the kiss, already half hard and desperate as he rips his lips away to bare his neck once more for Chen Yi’s needy tongue.

Chen Yi can hardly focus on words when actions are a much more effective way of getting his point across, but he does manage to choke out a forceful ‘mine’ which has Ai Di grabbing his hair by the fistful and responding with a smug, “Yeah Boss, all yours.”

Which only furthers Chen Yi’s spiralling thoughts to consume and mark and bite as he drops to his knees, latches onto the neckline of Ai Di’s shirt and tears it clean in half.

Ai Di huffs out his frustrations about his ruined shirt, but the throaty little whine he releases as Chen Yi bites down on his nipple masks any real threat in his voice. Chen Yi smirks around the bud as he feels the shudder run down Ai Di’s entire body. Chen Yi doesn’t stop, leaving his marks all over Ai Di’s chest, but working a particularly nasty twin pair along the collarbone and hip bone, his favourite places on Ai Di’s body. Only then does he pull back to admire his work.

Ai Di is now fully hard in front of him, tenting in his pants and Chen Yi wants nothing more than to get his mouth back on his boy, so he does, mouthing hotly at the wet patch already forming on Ai Di’s red cargo pants before stripping him and getting his mouth where he really wants it, wrapped tightly around the head of Ai Di’s weeping cock.

The sweet little noises and elongated utterances in english of ‘please’ and ‘fuck’ from Ai Di settle something dark in Chen Yi’s gut. He lets himself fall under Ai Di’s spell even further when he opens his throat and lets his boy take what he needs. Chen Yi chokes around a moan on a particularly deep thrust and when he surprises Ai Di with a soft caress across his neglected rim Ai Di’s legs buckle.

Fully aware of the effect he’s having, Chen Yi pulls off and catches him before he hits the ground. Chen Yi never lets him fall.

Ai Di barely notices the change as he’s hauled into Chen Yi’s arms and thrown down onto the bed. But the little shit does bare his neck again, purposefully bringing attention to the goddamn strip of leather that started all of this.

“I see you like your new present.” Chen Yi smiles, tapping at his own throat like Ai Di isn’t aware of exactly what he’s talking about.

“I do.” Ai Di purrs. “Shame it didn’t work though.” He pouts, thumbing the metal ring next to Chen Yi’s name and tugging it menacingly. “Men still think they have the right to touch me, Boss. What’re you gonna do about it? As hot as that display back at the bar was, you can’t beat them all to death.”

Chen Yi growls and yanks Ai Di’s cargo pants and boxers clean off.

“Watch me.” He says fiercely as he spreads Ai Di’s legs and tries to dive between them, but Ai Di’s reflexes have always been faster. He chuckles darkly and stops Chen Yi’s descent with a tiny, but powerful foot in the middle of his chest.

“Ah ah ah- take it easy, Boss.”

Chen Yi tries to evade him, ignoring his plea as he goes to grab the leg attached to the foot currently halting him in his place, but as he does Ai Di launches him backwards with a forceful shove.

“Before you touch me, I need something from you.”

“Ai Di…” Chen Yi whines as he makes to step forward one more time, but Ai Di shuffles himself further up the bed out of reach.

“Be good, Chen Yi.” He says as he settles himself on his knees amongst the mountain of pillows. “I’m yours, always have been. So I’m gonna need you to show me.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Chen Yi groans.

“Not with your cock, Yi. I need you to own me. I need those men at the bar, and any man who dares to look in my direction from here on out to know, explicitly, who I belong to. The collars are pretty, but they aren’t enough.”

Chen Yi’s frustration at the truth behind Ai Di’s words burn him to his very core. He wants the same thing, but what more can he possibly do than kill every single man who tries to touch what belongs to him?

“Tell me what you need.” He says darkly.

Chen Yi watches through half-lidded eyes as Ai Di squirms, slowly pumping his tiny fist up and down his still spit-slicked cock. Impatient little thing thrusts into his own fist and sighs. But in his distraction Ai Di has pulled something shiny from behind his back and dangles it in front of himself. It takes a minute for Chen Yi to realise what it is he’s seeing, but when he does his eyes widen.

“You want me to-?”

“-I want them to know, Chen Yi.”

Ai Di attaches the metal leash onto the ring at the front of his collar and offers the other end in Chen Yi’s direction. “I need you to own me.” He repeats the sentiment from earlier.

Chen Yi’s entire body burns with need. His hands tremble as he reaches out to grab the end of the leash being offered by his good boy. He yanks on it to test its strength and Ai Di lets out the most delicious sound that goes straight to his cock.

“God, Ai Di- this is-”

“-what I want, Chen Yi.”

Chen Yi nods in agreement and tugs once more on the leash.

Ai Di’s eyes haze over as a result and he follows blindly, flopping forward onto his hands and knees and crawls, closing the remaining distance, and showing his appreciation by nuzzling his face against Chen Yi’s still covered cock.

“Need you.” Ai Di sobs after lapping too long at the rapidly staining fabric. “Need your cock now.”

Chen Yi wraps the metal chain around his palm a few times to shorten the length and then uses its remaining rigidity to tug Ai Di away from his cock as he slowly bends to Ai Di’s level and whispers, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

Ai Di’s responding shiver sends him mad with lust.

Chen Yi uses the leash to force Ai Di onto his knees in a deep arch, with his ass in the air. He takes a moment to watch as Ai Di sinks into the mattress, panting into the sheets as he uses both hands to present himself just for Chen Yi.

The vision alone has Chen Yi biting his lip hard enough to taste the all too familiar metallic tang as blood fills his mouth. It shouldn’t, but it still shocks him sometimes how willing Ai Di is to bare himself so brazenly for him.

He knows it’s his own goddamn fault, but it still irks him to think about the fact that he wasn’t the first, second, or even third person to have the privilege of making a home in Ai Di’s sweet little body, but what does bring a small iota of comfort is the knowledge that his boy has never submitted the way he does when he’s with Chen Yi.

Ai Di has always been his feral kitten by nature; full of fire and violence and destruction, who only ever turns soft and sweet and submissive when he’s got Chen Yi’s cock buried in his ass. And that beautiful submission reveals the truth of Ai Di’s loyalty. Chen Yi is, and will always be, the only one who ever gets to see Ai Di this way. He won’t ever take it for granted again, and he’ll spend the rest of their lives together proving it.

Chen Yi makes quick work of lubing up his fingers before trailing the tip of one against Ai Di’s fluttering hole. Ai Di arches further into the touch, hissing at him to ‘stop teasing and hurry the fuck up’. Ai Di never has to beg twice for anything. But because he’s being such an impatient little shit Chen Yi decides to show him who’s really in charge by yanking the leash harsher this time.

“Greedy boys get what I give them.”

But despite his own authority, Chen Yi knows he never truly denies Ai Di anything anymore so without thinking too deeply into why that is he pushes one long digit all the way in, curling his finger with pinpoint accuracy right against Ai Di’s sweet spot. The responding cry tells him everything he needs to know to continue pumping with one, two, three fingers until Ai Di is a writhing mass of soft limbs beneath him, crying desperately into the mattress as Chen Yi forces him past the point of climax, toppling him straight into hysteria.

As much as Chen Yi enjoys making an absolute mess of his boy, he hates not being able to see the ruin for himself, so with a practised ease he flips Ai Di onto his back and laps at the remaining liquid splattered across Ai Di’s torso with a deep hum of appreciation. Using Ai Di’s distraction he strips himself, and begins fisting his own cock a few times to try and calm the deep seated hunger he feels brewing in his belly.

Still pumping his cock, Chen Yi watches carefully as Ai Di slowly makes his return to the surface with a soft smile and groggy eyes and when Ai Di blinks up at him in semi-awareness Chen Yi chuckles softly, releasing himself in favour of Ai Di’s attention and asks, “You back with me?”

Only when Ai Di nods back does he then ask, “think you can take more?” with a soft pat against Ai Di’s ass.

Ai Di scoffs, “One orgasm isn’t going to take me out. Barely felt it, actually.” The little shit giggles and then makes a grab for Chen Yi, pulling him flush between his spread legs until he’s using the new found, post-orgasm strength to switch their positions so that he’s now straddling Chen Yi, hovering menacingly over Chen Yi’s painfully neglected cock.

“Think you can take me riding this thing,” he fists Chen Yi’s cock in his tiny hand and flicks the head over his slickened hole once before releasing him to grab the leash still attached to his neck and pushing it into Chen Yi’s open mouth, “while you choke me with that thing?”

Chen Yi spits out the looped leather end and once again wraps the remaining metal chain tightly around his palm before he drags Ai Di’s lips onto his own. They both sink into the kiss, ripping into the core of one another as they lick and suck and bite and allow each other to take and take and take. The kiss leaves them both breathless and when they do have to pull away, they don’t go far, stealing breath from each other’s lungs as they pant into one another’s mouths. But the need is too great, and their magnetism pulls them back together again and again until Chen Yi uses the chain to haul Ai Di away, though it pains him to do so. But he’s literally on the precipice of release, and the fear of coming too soon brings him back to reality.

“Fuck.” Chen Yi breathes, “Need a minute, Di. Don’t wanna come until I’m inside you.”

Ai Di whines and impatiently grinds down on his cock, “Then get to it, Boss. Want you to fill me up.”

Chen Yi groans, burying his head in the crease of Ai Di’s neck and mumbles into his collarbone, “Stop saying shit like that or I’ll blow my load right now.”

In moments like this Chen Yi has to hand it to Ai Di, when he wants something, there is no one in this fucking world that’s going to stop him. And so, without warning Ai Di pulls Chen Yi’s head out of his shoulder, arches his back, expertly reaches around to find Chen Yi’s cock and sinks down on it in one fell swoop.

Chen Yi barely has time to process a single second of what’s just happened until he’s literally buried balls deep in Ai Di’s ass. And when his brain eventually catches up to his cock, he can only throw his head back and cry out in pure fucking bliss.

“Jesus fucking christ, Ai Di!” Chen Yi bellows as Ai Di starts bouncing his perfect little ass up and down at a pace that would be considered psychotic to anyone other than Ai Di.

The crazy fucking psychopath, giddy as ever, fucks himself on Chen Yi’s cock like it was made just for him and it forces Chen Yi to lie back and let him taketaketake until they’re both satisfied, but a small part of his brain reminds him that he knows Ai Di and the residing chaos that follows his boy sometimes needs to right kind of taming.

With that knowledge he’s looping his finger into the metal ring of Ai Di’s collar and pulling. Hard. The immediate effect sends Ai Di hurtling toward subspace, his greedy hole doesn’t stop taking, but the bouncing slows into a dirty grind, which makes Chen Yi twitch inside him, but he’s focussed now, and he desperately wants Ai Di’s full submission.

“Good boy.” Chen Yi croons, “Taking me so well.”

Ai Di swoons at the praise, but Chen Yi knows he’s not entirely in his own head right now, can see it in the way Ai Di’s eyes have lost focus, can feel it in the way his limbs have loosened, and all the tension in his shoulders, his thighs, his arms, have gone as he lets Chen Yi take full control of his pleasure.

Chen Yi smiles in open adoration of the trust Ai Di has given him. “Gonna take care of you, Di. Give you what you need.”

Though he doesn’t pull on the leash again, Chen Yi does fit his entire palm under the collar and gives Ai Di’s neck a squeeze, watching the way Ai Di falls completely under as his eyes roll back into his head.

Chen Yi keeps a soft, but steady pace as he fucks up into his boy, angling himself until he hears incoherent babbles from Ai Di that let him know he’s hit his mark, and only when the noises reach a fever pitch does he flip the pair of them so he can begin thrusting brutally into Ai Di to bring him to the brink of his bodies pleasure.

Well versed by now in the exact tone of Ai Di’s pleas when he’s close Chen Yi buries himself deeper, and squeezes a little bit harder until Ai Di’s eyes fly open. Chen Yi doesn’t dare stop, but he basks in the moment Ai Di topples head first into the abyss.

It doesn’t take much for him to follow suit. The tight vice of Ai Di’s warmth sends him spiralling into his own.

When Chen Yi regains the baser functions of his body and brain he lifts his head from Ai Di’s neck with a trail of soft kisses and lets the sweet words spill from his lips as he tries to coax Ai Di back up.

“Come back to me, Di. Open your eyes, baby.” He whispers against Ai Di’s cheek, as he wipes away the tears that fell sometime during their peak.

Eventually, the coaxing starts to take effect and Ai Di shifts, his breath evens out, and slowly his eyes flutter open. They’re still dopey and glazed, but there’s a sense of awareness creeping back in that makes Chen Yi beam with pride.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you. You did so well.”

Still unable to produce actual words, Ai Di hums his affections back, a sign that he’s almost fully resurfaced.

Chen Yi stays inside Ai Di for as long as he can, having learnt from previous experience how vital it is to Ai Di in this vulnerable state to have Chen Yi as close as humanly possible. Because as much as they both know Chen Yi won’t ever leave, Ai Di’s brain, especially in this state of flux, likes to trick him into thinking he’s not worthy of love.

So Chen Yi stays- exactly where he belongs- for as long as he can.

And when Ai Di finally returns, it’s with his usual sass and resuming chaos.

“So, Boss, when are you going to parade me and my new leash around for all the boys to see.”

Chen Yi wouldn’t have him any other way.

#kiseki: dear to me #kiseki #ai di x chen yi #chenai #louis x nat #kiseki dear to me #smut #fanfic #i wrote a thing #because the severe lack of fics made me depressed #enjoy #i love comments 😏😏

62 notes · View notes

holdupjack · 9 months

Text

The Captains Princess

——————

Part 2

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Pirate/Monarchy

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE/SEXUAL INNUENDOS

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

September 18th, 1655

Hermione Granger was part of a well-known and very respected royal family that looked after the island country that fell under Danish rule.

(A/N: I'm talking about Iceland btw, or Islandia if you want to be technical. If I read my history books correctly, which I probably didn't, then Iceland should have been under Danish rule at this point? I'm not sure, just go with it lol)

The island held a Volcano in the southwest, the land around it was now uninhabited, after a horrible tragedy ten years ago.

The mountain had suddenly come to life, spewing ash and molten rock onto the people below. Everyone at the edge of the city was able to evacuate at the time, but most were lost under the hardened rock or simply melted away.

Hermione was eleven at the time, and she remembered watching the smoke pouring over the mountains from her window.

Her mother had ushered her away, closing the window and cooping her up in the library for the entire week.

Yet, she saw what was happening at night.

The sky had gone dark, the lack of the sun and stars caused by ash as it was carried by the wind and into the main city. It covered everything like black paint, forcing everyone to cough and heave as they shoveled everything into wagons, sending it back into the outskirts of the destroyed town.

It took months, but eventually, Hermione was free to roam the city once more. Later did she learn how many of the people had died from the ash and eruption.

The number was staggering.

Now she is twenty-one, well almost, and the population had doubled in size since that day.

Her coronation was to be held tomorrow, on the day of her birth, and where she would take over the kingdom for her father and mother. It wasn't something she was excited about, but she knew it needed to be done.

In all honesty, she wanted to see the world.

She wished to explore the structures of Egypt and the booming colonies of America. Everything she had read in books and newspapers fueled her intrigue to extreme measures, but she had a job to do. Whether she wanted to do it or not.

Hermione now sat in the city garden, the smell of the Lupine flower filled her nose as royal guards stood close by.

Seagulls called over her as she heard the yelling of men and women near the docks, the shade of the Aspen Tree above her made it easier to read the newspaper in her hand.

'Virginia Blockaded By England After Declaring Allegiance To The House Of Stuart'

Hermione knew little about what went on around the world, but it still shocked her with the decisions people made.

"Come on Cap! Why did we even stop at this god-forsaken place?"

The Princess's eyes flickered up to find a group of three walking down the sidewalk nearby.

A woman around her age stood in the middle of them with a wide grin. Two tall men walked on either side of her, they seemed to be twins. One had long hair that was up in a ponytail, while the other kept it almost like a guard's military cut.

"I told you two, we need a new navigator since the last one died in the battle outside the British seas!" She replies as they made their way into one of the pubs. Hermione raised an eyebrow as the group disappeared into the building, the door shutting loudly behind them.

Her curiosity peaked, she wondered how this girl became a captain so young, and had so many questions about the lands outside of her own.

"Excuse me Princess, but we must get you back to the castle. Your mother wanted you to help pick out the last bit of details before your celebration tomorrow" A guard states as he had somehow snuck up beside her.

"Oh yes, let us be going" Hermione mumbled as she stood up and folded the newspaper under her arm. Her eyes stayed on the pub door a few moments longer before she ripped them away.

Yet, she thought back on the Captain.

Only had watched her for less than a minute, but now she seemed to hold her curiosity by the neck.

Maybe she would see her tomorrow?

It was an 'everyone invited' event after all.

——————

September 19th

Hermione sat on her father's throne, wearing a beautiful pure white dress that had originally been her grandmother's coronation dress. The Royal Tailor had taken in it for Hermione to update it to the current times of fashion.

She felt like she was getting married.

Well, she supposed she was in a sense? She was vowing her time, love, and dedication to her country.

The main hall was filled shoulder to shoulder with everyone around the land. Children, adults, and elderly alike all talked amongst each other as servers passed out food and drink.

The coronation wasn't till later in the night when they would crown her at exactly twelve, so she may begin her reign as queen immediately.

Hermione looked down at her lap and sighed softly, she felt as though her life was slipping through her fingers.

A soft whistle cut through the crowd.

She looked back at the party, no one else noticed the call for her acknowledgment, but it wasn't hard to find the whistler.

The Captain from the day before stood at the edge of the crowd, looking up at her with the same grin she wore in the street.

Instead of the normal attire that the women wore, she sported a nice white shirt and some black pants. Hermione could see the passing judgment people gave her as they walked by.

The future Queen raised an eyebrow, to which the Captain nodded her head over to the open balcony near them.

Hermione gave a small smile in return as the Captain disappeared back into the crowd. The royal stood up to follow after, but her mother walked up to her with a puzzled look on her face.

"Who were you eyeing in the crowd? A future husband?" She asks with a slight tease in her voice as Hermione chuckled at the question.

"A new friend, maybe" Hermione replies as she started to make her way into the crowd, her mother raises a brow at her retreating form.

"Getting some air?" She calls after, but Hermione was already too far by the time she did.

The music from the small string band seemed louder on the main floor as people greeted and smiled at her.

As she got to the doorway of the balcony, a guard stopped her with his arm.

"Do you know the woman that is standing out there?" He asks, as she peered out into the night, she could see the back of the Captain's head.

"Yes, and I would like to talk to them in private if you don't mind?" She replies to which he drops his arm and nodded.

He quickly opened the door for her and closed it as soon as she stepped out into the cold air.

"It's nice to finally meet you Queen Granger" the woman speaks as she turned around and smiled again.

"I'm not Queen yet, and please, call me Hermione" she replies as she stepped to the edge of the balcony and looked over the almost vacant city.

"Greetings then Hermione, my name is Captain Y/n Y/l/n. At your service, of course." the woman greets as she held out her hand for her.

Why did that name sound familiar?

Hermione watched her with a playful intrigued stare as she let her hand be taken and kissed upon by the sailor.

"What may I do for you, Captain?" Hermione asks as she felt goosebumps raise from the skin the women had pecked.

The Captain smiled again as she watched the Princess stand at the parapet with her.

(A/N: a parapet is a wall-like structure around a balcony or terrace, saved you guys a Google search.)

"Well, a little birdie told me that you're a prodigy at navigating and that you have helped map out this entire country with your expeditions," Y/n says and Hermione chuckled.

It was true, when she wasn't forced to be cooped up in the castle, Hermione was out mapping and exploring the country. She had journals upon journals in her room filled with sketches of plants, animals, and landmarks.

As you could guess, she had learned from the guardsmen how to use the stars when a compass would fail them in their endeavors

(A/N: btw, didn't know that compasses were invented so early. The first one ever recorded was in 1190. Omg we're learning so many things in this imagine, I love it.)

Her parents were always so worried about killers and thieves when she would plan a trip, but it wasn't like she wasn't being sent out with a small army with her.

"Yes, may I ask why you wanted to know?" Hermione questioned as she stared up at the beautiful night sky. Millions of stars poked through an inky abyss.

"I'll reveal that later on, but before I do, it seems you have questions to ask me" Y/n replied as she smirked at the beautiful royal.

Hermione hummed and thought for a moment, she had many questions, so she had to play her cards right.

"Are you part of a fleet? Or are you a...freelance type of Captain?" the Princess asks discreetly as she heard one of the Guards talking behind the glass door.

"Let's just say I have more fun without a boss around" Y/n replies as Hermione chuckled.

Great, she was talking to a Pirate.

"I'm surprised you haven't recognized me, I've been in the paper recently" the Captain states, causing Hermione to turn to get a better look at her.

Y/n poses as it clicks in Hermione's mind, no wonder her name sounded familiar.

"Wait, are you that Captain that stole almost half of the treasury of Venice?" she replies as Y/n began to snicker quietly as the Princess stared at her in disbelief.

"Ah don't look at me like that! We gave almost all of it back to the people!" Y/n says as she continued to grin at her, to which Hermione just chuckled in astonishment.

"Have you come to steal our treasury then? Distract me while your friends pillage us dry?" she asks with honest questioning, which caused Y/n to laugh softly at her conclusion.

"That's a smart idea, I might have to try it sometime, but no. We didn't come to steal any money from you." she replied as she turned her body toward the Princess, who didn't even look concerned at the fact that she was standing shoulder to shoulder with an enemy of many cities

"Then why did you come here?" Hermione asks as she turned herself towards her mysterious company.

Y/n's eyes travel down her body slowly, the royal felt hot for some reason, it wasn't foreign to Hermione to feel men undressing her with their eyes.

Maybe because it was a woman this time around that she felt...different.

Yet, it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling.

"My crew and I came here looking for the best navigator in this country since we're on a hit list in the other ones," Y/n says as she gazed back up into Hermione sight. The Captain's intrigue in her past time now made a lot more sense.

"Before you even ask, the answer is 'no'." Hermione states as Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Aw come on Princess, I've been watching you at this party all night, and you have been miserable!" Y/n sighs, which sort of reminded Hermione of an annoyed child trying to prove their point.

"I've made a promise to my country-"

"Not yet"

"-and my parents! I'm not going to run off with some pirate Captain that thinks of herself as a modern-day Robin Hood!" Hermione whispers with her own annoyance laced in her words.

"Who said you have to take over anyways?" Y/n asks as she stepped closer, forcing Hermione to take in the sea salt aroma she carried on her skin, which wasn't a surprise.

"No one said! I'm just doing my due diligence to my family-" she was cut off again by the captain's eye roll.

"You know what? Why am I even arguing with you? The answer is 'no'." Hermione whisper yells as she turned on her heel and went to step back into the party.

"When was the last time you did something for yourself?"

This made the Princess pause and turn back around. Her mouth fell slightly at the question that was just asked to her. She has never been talked to like this, and it ticked her off to see that Captain's face was still grinning.

"Excuse me?" She laughs out in disbelief as Y/n jumped up onto the wall around the balcony, and sat down.

"It's a fair question, you seem like you've had all the fun sucked out of you since you were little" Y/n hums as Hermione slightly tripped up on her dress, but walked up to her nonetheless.

"All have you know, I am very fun" she protests with a pointed finger as Y/n just playful smiled at her, trying to keep the conversation going between them.

Why was Hermione even trying to defend her personality from some grinning criminal pirate?

"Also, stop smiling!" She whispers as Y/n looked her over again, letting her lips fall from her toothy grin to a subtle rise of the corners of her mouth.

"I'm sorry Princess, I just find you very pretty" she admits, which caused Hermione to be struck dumbfounded.

Who just admits that after asking a Princess to join their gang of murderous pirates?

"Well, uh, thank you," Hermione says as she cleared her throat, and smoothed down the front of the dress. Her embarrassment from her outburst started to set in, she never got this upset with anyone, and she has sat down with political parties.

"But flattery won't get you anywhere" she states as Y/n picked at a loose string on her pant leg.

"Listen, my ship is docked at the east bay. I'll have one of my men holding a lantern on deck during his patrols, in case you want to visit me before your crowning." Y/n says as she jumped back into the floor and dusted off her pants, pulling out a pocket watch.

"You have two hours before you get crowned and we head off to some new land that people are calling the 'West Indies'. A friend of mine was even able to send us a map of its location, we'll get there with or without you." Y/n states as Hermione's interest seemed to skyrocket again.

"You said that you needed a navigator? Won't you get lost?" She replies as Y/n stuffs the device back in her pocket.

"I'm not just a ruthless Robin Hood Captain with a small army of society rejects, but I'm also a decent enough Wayfinder!" Y/n hums as she went to step towards the door, back into the party. Hermione quickly stopped her with a hand to the Captain's chest, she burned her eyes into Y/n's.

"You'll be lost within a day" Hermione states as Y/n leaned closer, causing their noses to bump slightly.

"Maybe, or we'll be right as rain" she replies as they stared at one another with glares that held different meanings. It's quiet between them as the people in the hall began to sing a drinking song.

"Too bad you'll be marrying yourself off to some child-like man" Y/n mumbled as she let her harden gaze drop, Hermione furrowed her brows at the statement.

A questionable time to bring that up.

"Why do you say that? Do you think you could do better?" She asks with a scoff as the Captain took her arm and began to move them to a secluded corner.

"Much better" Y/n whispers as they hide from any prying eyes in the main hall. Hermione hummed as the woman stepped even closer, their heads tilted to the side as their lips ghosted one another's.

"You say that, but you probably have a different girl in your quarters every night," the Princess says as her hands grasped Y/n's hips in an attempt to steady herself.

Hermione started to question her own intentions at this moment, trying to figure out how their argument turned so scandalous in a matter of seconds.

"I haven't been to bed with another in many voyages, but when I saw you in that garden yesterday, I knew that needed to change," Y/n admits as her body pinned Hermione to the wall behind her.

"You saw me?" Hermione asks as the sailor hummed and pressed a kiss to the corner of the royal's lips.

"My crew thinks I'm just asking you to be our navigator, but I have had my own intentions from the start," Y/n says as she left a trail of kisses down to Hermione's neck.

She should push her away, Hermione knew better than to let a random criminal kiss and nip on her skin like this, but in all honesty...she was enjoying this Captain's touch more than she would like to admit.

"Come sail by my side, be my Princess" Y/n whispers into her ear, sending a shiver down Hermione's back as goosebumps rose onto her arms and her hands gripped the woman's hips.

"I don't know you, or your intentions" Hermione replies as Y/n kissed her jaw, but she ultimately hummed in agreement.

"That's true, you don't know anything about me" she states as she backed away to look at the flushed girl, who looks as if she had dipped her face in red paint.

"But, we have a little bit of time before your crowning, so what would you like to know?" Y/n asks as she stepped away and jumped back to sit on the balcony again.

They could now be seen again by any snooping partygoers and patrolling guards.

Hermione stood up straight as she pushed down the wrinkles on her dress, and brushed away any lint or dirt she saw.

"You!...you should know better than to push yourself onto a Princess!" She whispers as Y/n's grin made its reappearance, almost teasing her to come closer and make it disappear.

Whether from a slap or a kiss, Hermione wasn't certain.

"You could have pushed me away" Y/n replies, making the young Granger pause and try to come up with a valid excuse.

"You caught me off guard"

"Mhm"

Y/n began to quietly snicker as Hermione just huffed and crossed her arms against her chest. She was making herself out to be a stupid bratty princess, and she was not.

"You know that asking someone you find pretty to join your crew and leave her country behind, isn't a very good way to ask them on a date" Hermione chuckles as she started to relax slightly, now finding her smile less irritating as time went on.

"I've never asked a woman on a date before, I use to only pay for their company when I was younger," Y/n says as she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her dangling feet.

Hermione noted the embarrassed behavior she exhibited, almost like she was insecure that she had to pay for a woman in her bed at night.

"I understand when it comes to society on land, with their prejudices about two women being together." Hermione starts as she thought back on the people who had been run out of their city because of silly ideals.

"Yet, I thought Pirates didn't care? As long as they got their drinks, money, and partners out of it." She asks as she heard a clank of beer mugs and cheers from men inside.

"Of course, they don't care, it's just hard to date another sailing woman, especially if they are part of another ship" Y/n answers with a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You must have girls on your own crew then?" Hermione questioned as she took a step closer. Y/n look back at her with a laugh and shook her head in quick succession.

"They're like my sisters!" Y/n states, which made Hermione chuckle as well. She guessed that made sense since probably being on a ship for months on end would bring them all closer as a family more than anything,

"Also, all of my crew has lads or lasses back home waiting for them to return" Y/n continues as she laid down on the parapet, one leg swung over the edge while her other foot was planted on the stone, and her knee pointed to the sky,

"Be careful, we're high up" Hermione stated as she stepped closer, her fingers twitched as she stopped herself from grabbing ahold of the girl.

They were just one story up, but it was still high enough to break something.

"I've fallen from the crow's nest of my ship, multiple times! This is nothing." Y/n chuckles as she locked her fingers and puts them behind her head as a makeshift pillow.

"I'm guessing you drank one too many pints?" Hermione asks as her eyes scanned the Captain's body.

"See? You're getting to know me so well already!" Y/n replies as they chuckled together.

"Did you land in the water each time? Or have you somehow not died from that yet?" The Princess asks as her hand finally grasped the hem of her shirt.

"Almost all were in the water, but last time I hurt myself real bad" Y/n replies as one hand snuck out from under her head and hooked a finger around the fabric between Hermione's breasts, pulling her closer again.

They weren't hiding anymore, this was a dangerous position to be in, but maybe that was the point.

Was Y/n trying to get her shunned from the castle for engaging in scandalous behavior with another woman?

A fucked up way to force her to join her crew?

Hermione suddenly backed away and cleared her throat, pushing down her wrinkles again.

"As entertaining as this conversation has been, I must go back to my party" she sighs as her chin went back to being high and mighty, and her back as straight as a wooden beam.

"Do you have to?" Y/n asks as she sat back up, causing Hermione to smile. Her childlike questions were almost begging, like she truly didn't want Hermione to walk away.

"I must, it is my birthday party after all" she replies and Y/n hums as she thought of an excuse for her to stay just a little bit longer.

"Just answer one more question," Y/n asks to which Hermione raised her eyebrow in return as the Captain stood back in front of her.

"Will I see you tonight?"

They stared at one another for a few moments, the air around them was chilly, but a slight heat seem to burn between them.

Hermione then just walked away.

That told Y/n that it wasn't a 'no', but it wasn't a 'yes' either.

She wondered what went through that beauty's mind, and if she knew that she had easily gotten a stoic sailor on her toes.

——————

When Y/n had arrived back at the port with no one in tow, Ginny gave a loud sigh from the deck of 'The Morrigan'.

"Captain on deck!" Ron yells near the bow of the ship.

"Is she-" she starts but the Captain quickly raised her hand in a 'stop' gesture and grabbed the lantern that hung near the entrance of her quarters.

"She still has an hour until her crowning, which I told her we will leave at exactly then also," Y/n says as she handed Ginny the lantern, and smiled at her irritated expression.

"What does that even mean?" the ginger replies as the sounds of her twin brothers echo from the crow's nest.

"Look at that whale Freddie! Looks like your ex-girlfriend!"

It was funny to think that half her crew was just the entire Weasley family.

"Just keep this lantern lit as you do your patrols around the deck" Y/n states as she patted the girl's shoulder and disappeared into her quarters.

As the door shut behind her, a soft groan came from her lips as she grabbed her hat from the hook on the wall.

Placing it on her head, she took a seat at her desk and began looking at the new inventory report.

Molly has requested more fruit cabbage for her kitchen, while Draco has asked for a new pair of boots. Harry needs new glasses, and Blaise needs to go to the blacksmith and sharpen his swords.

Y/n felt a headache begin to form as she tried to figure out a way to get everyone these things. This kingdom had almost everything, but she would have to dig through the old navigator's journal entries to find out where they got Harry's glasses the last time he broke them.

She needed help, and she didn't know how to ask for it without looking vulnerable in front of her crew. Y/n was only one person, and she needed someone as sophisticated as Hermione.

Granted, Y/n still planned to make Hermione hers, but that would have to wait.

Minutes went by quicker than she had realized as she scanned through the reports of everything below deck. She eventually noticed that it was ten to twelve.

"Come on Hermione" Y/n whispers as she stood up and walked back onto the deck.

"Begin preparations for departure!" Y/n yells out as a chorus of 'Ayes' rung out around her.

Ginny still stood near the walkway with the lantern in hand as she stared out into the town, which seemed devoid of life if it wasn't for the castle that was lit up like a fireworks display.

"I don't think she's coming" Y/n whispers as Ginny just hummed.

"You've always been so quick to judge" she replied as her eyes flickered towards different corners of the streets that stood in front of her.

"Ready Captain!" Percy states from his post as he stood at the stern with his hand on his pistol.

Percy always seemed to know when trouble was headed their way, it was almost like a gut instinct for him to grab his weapon.

"There she is" Ginny chuckles as she tapped Y/n's chest with the back of her hand.

Y/n's head snapped to find Hermione bolting down the street towards them, she now wore pants and a shirt instead of the beautiful white dress she had been given earlier in the day.

The Captain quickly made her way to the walkway, but soon noticed that she wasn't just running to get to them in time. Y/n heard the yelling of guards and began to smile.

"Once she's on the ship, time to go!" Y/n called as Draco took ahold of the wheel, and barked orders at the boys on the deck.

Hermione caught the Captain's eyes as she dashed down the dock towards them, and smiled at her, to which Y/n broke out in a grin in response.

"Come on Princess! We don't have all night!" Y/n teased as she held out her hand for her to take across the board between land and ship.

As soon as their hands grasped one another's, Y/n yanked her on deck and let Ron and Harry quickly pull the wood onto the ship as well.

"Full sails! Get us out of here!" Y/n yelled as the woosh of the sails fell and took in the wind of the sea.

Tens of hundreds of footsteps pounded on the dock as they pulled away, one guard had managed to jump and grab the side of the ship, but Pansy was able to just lean over and wack away his hands with the butt of her sword.

He didn't fall into the water at first, but her threat was able to make him choose his fate.

"Let go, or I'm chopping them off"

He quickly dropped into the cold unforgiving ocean.

Y/n darted towards the stern as The Morrgian began to take speed and drift off into the night.

She watched as hundreds of guards stood at the docks watching as their future queen ran off with one of the most hated pirates in the seven seas.

"I'll kill you Y/l/n!" A man yells from his place in the troops, from the crown on his head, she hadn't had to guess that he was King Granger.

"Well, that's one way to make a first impression on the crew!" Ginny snickers as she greeted Hermione on the deck.

"It would have been a lot calmer if my father hadn't caught me sneaking away" she replies as she put her back into a ponytail with a few hairpins she had left in her pockets.

"We'll have an introduction party tomorrow, right now Hermione and I need to begin setting a course for the West Indies" Y/n joked as she made her way back to the deck, Hermione stumbled slightly as the ship swayed side to side.

"Don't worry Princess, you'll get your sea legs eventually" the Captain snickers as she gestured to her quarters, and held out her hand for Hermione to take for stability.

As she took it, Blaise began to sing a chantey proudly, to which the crew joined in as well as they began their Mundane chores around the ship.

Y/n shut her door behind them, muffling the ruffians, as Hermione took in the beautiful books and maps that were scattered around.

"These are beautiful" Hermione whispers as she walked around the space with so much intrigue.

"I would hope so, since you'll be living in here" Y/n states as points to another desk that face the window that looks out into the sea behind the ship. A small bed lay next to it, almost looking untouched since its last owner as many books and papers were scattered around the space.

She could see her home fading away as they drifted away further.

"Wait, the Captain and Navigator share the same room?" Hermione asks as she turned back to find Y/n suddenly standing almost face to face with her.

"Of course, you're my right hand now" she mumbles as her eyes flickered around Hermione's face.

"If there wasn't already evidence of this cot being lived in, I would think you had done this on purpose" Hermione chuckles as Y/n brushed past her and took a seat at her desk.

"We could always push our cots together? Make this space very lived-in" Y/n suggests as Hermione stood in front of her, the only thing separating them was the desk of the captain.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" the former royal asks as she leaned down and restart her hands upon the wood.

"Certainly, I like to have my treasures close by me" Y/n whispers as she herself leaned closer, and like earlier in the night, they stared at one another intensely.

Hermione smirked and brushed her nose against hers in a teasing manner.

"You think of me as one of your treasures?" she replies in a hushed tone as she heard a soft shudder come from the sailor.

"Yes, I've caught myself a princess after all" Y/n mutters as Hermione pecked the corner of her mouth.

She was using her tricks.

"Did you? Or did I catch myself a Captain?"

Y/n's grin found a home on her lips once more for the night, before being wiped away with a kiss from Hermione.

The captain saw stars behind her eyes that were more beautiful than the ones in the sky.

The poor Captain tried to chase after another one as she backed away with a mischievous smile.

"As fun, as it is to fool around with you, we do have work to do" Hermione states as she walked towards her new desk, her hand squeezing Y/n's shoulder as she went by.

Hermione could feel eyes burning into the back of her head as she sat down and took a book from one of the piles.

"If you want more, you have to woo me, my Captain," she says as she whispers the last part in a sultry tone.

Even though her decision to betray her country was almost just for the fact to see the world, she also knew a part of her wanted to see how a flirty Captain would treat her during their months at sea.

She knew sooner or later she would allow herself to be taken into the Captain's arms and ravished behind closed doors.

Yet, she still wanted to be treated like a proper lady, and it was going to be fun to watch an urchin like Y/n try her best at it.

Hermione could only chuckle as she heard Y/n walk out to the deck and begin asking questions about dates to her crew, having left the door open slightly.

This is going to be fun.

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian

114 notes · View notes

astroeleanor · 7 months

Text

ੈ✨‧₊VIRGO Rising: A MAJOR Glow Up Awaits You!ੈ✨‧₊

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

Virgo Risings, you are gonna have a MAJOR glow up from Oct 9th until Nov 8th. Venus in Virgo will bless your first house of physical appearance, personality & first impressions. Use this time to reinvent yourself.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

Your physical appearance and the way you express your personality will be under the influence of Venus, the planet associated with beauty and charm. This means that you have a golden opportunity to reinvent yourself in a way that resonates with your beauty archetype.

During this period, you may find yourself more inclined to pay attention to your physical appearance. Whether it's a new hairstyle, a wardrobe makeover, or a revamped skincare routine, this is the time to pamper yourself and invest in self-care. By enhancing your physical appearance, you'll not only feel more confident but also leave a lasting and positive impression on those you encounter.

Furthermore, your personality and first impressions will shine brightly during this Venus in Virgo transit. You'll exude an aura of warmth, grace, and charm, making it easier for you to connect with others on a deeper level. It's a wonderful time to work on improving your social skills and making new connections, both personally and professionally.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

It’s worth mentioning that Venus (1H) will oppose Saturn (7H) from Oct 9th until Oct 15th. This alignment presents a balancing period between indulgence and responsibility. It can create tension in relationships, prompt self-evaluation, and introduce obstacles to transformation. However, it also encourages patience, persistence, and building strong foundations for your intimate connections. Embrace the challenges as opportunities for growth and balance.

Consider taking some time for self-reflection during this period as well. Use this opportunity to delve into your core values, beliefs, and desires. Are there aspects of your personality that you wish to change or strengthen? Are there personal goals you've been yearning to pursue but haven't had the chance to? Now is the perfect moment to set intentions and take steps toward personal growth and self-improvement.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge. Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely. • 🕸️ JOIN MY PATREON for exquisite & in-depth astrology content. You'll also receive a free mini reading upon joining. :) • 🗡️ BOOK A READING with me to navigate your life with more clarity & awareness.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

#virgo #virgo season #virgo moon #virgo sun #virgo szn #virgo rising #virgo ascendant #astrology notes #astro observations #astro community #astrology #astrology signs #horoscope #astrology observations #astro notes #astroblr

117 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 1 year

Text

lost in nightmares (leon s. kennedy x reader)

Summary: You comfort Leon after he wakes up from a nightmare in which he relived the hellish events of Racoon City. Leon, who is suffering with PTSD, is struggling to shake the past, and only you can bring him back to reality.

Word count: 2000 words.

Warnings: PTSD, trauma attacks, hallucinations, implied self injury. Hurt/comfort.

Inspired by the note from Leon found in Resident Evil 6 that reads: “To tell you the truth, I even thought about ending it. Several times actually, with just a quick bullet to the head. But I didn’t give up.”

Masterlist

Leon’s body was burning hot when he woke up, his palms sweaty and his finger nails indented into his skin where he’d made fists in his sleep. You were fast asleep beside him, lightly snoring, at peace. He looked at you momentarily with tired eyes and a small part of him envied you. The way the corners of your pretty lips were slightly upturned into a smile, even when you were sleeping. It eased him slightly, knowing you were there next to him, and he was safe. It has been getting easier for Leon since you’d moved in with him, but the nights were still the hardest. He didn’t want to wake you. He didn’t want to worry you.

Leon’s throat was dry and he was so sure that if he didn’t get a glass of water soon, he might just choke on the air around him. He needed to feel the cool liquid run down his throat. He needed to feel the contrast. As Leon sat up in bed, he saw a bright flash, a figure standing at the foot. Tall and Tyrant-like… all too familiar. He gasped loudly and shuffled back towards the headboard in fear, but when he blinked again, the figure was gone. Nothing but a mere figment of his imagination. A memory.

Leon took a few seconds to recuperate and worked on regulating his breathing, before swinging his legs out of the bed and standing up as quiet as he could, still making conscious effort not to wake you. In the darkness, Leon stumbled to open the bedroom door. He slipped out of the room and began to pad down the hallway, which was illuminated by a small amber nightlight. The rain outside thrashed against the window and it reminded Leon of that night, September 28th, when big fat raindrops fell atop of him as he navigated to the Racoon City Police station, dodging the undead who roamed the streets. Leon rubbed his eyes and saw one of them. A zombie— a monster— the undead. Blood stained and ripped t-shirt, still looking almost human if it wasn’t for the greying skin and white eyes. Leon blinked furiously, begging the image to go away.

“Go away,” he whispered. His skin began to tingle, and it was getting hard to breathe again. “You’re not real— go away.” His voice became a little more loud and a little more stern with fury. He was mad at himself. Why couldn’t he shake these images? These feelings?

It should have been different. He was working for the US government now; not by choice, but they had him training under the influential Major Krauser. Krauser was tough and rough and had been through a lot, just like Leon. He’d fought in wars all around the world; and yet, he seemed unfazed by it all. It had been two years since the Racoon City Incident, and still, not a day goes by when Leon didn’t reminisce. He wished he didn’t— he wished he couldn’t. Leon wished for a lot of things, but life goes on.

‘I’m not a kid anymore,’ Leon thought to himself. ‘So why am I still scared of monsters under the bed?’

After a long moment of fighting with himself in the hallway, Leon made it to the kitchen and took a glass from one of the cabinets. He opened up the freezer drawer and took out an ice cube, but stopped himself before he could put it in the glass. The cold against his skin soothed him and Leon took a breath of relief as he made a fist around the ice cube, the sharpness of the corners cutting slightly against his skin. He didn’t wince though, he barely even felt it. Leon let the ice melt into his hand and the water seep in between the gaps of his fingers until it made a puddle on the floor beneath him. Then, he wiped his hand with a towel and turned on the tap. Water.

Leon filled up his glass and turned off the tap before spinning around on his heel.

What he saw next, made his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. The RPD uniform, skin turning purple but still those big, empathy-filled brown eyes. Marvin.

“Save me, Leon,” Marvin choked out, and extended his arm towards his employee.

Leon dropped the glass of water on the floor, the cup smashing beneath him and shards of the glass cutting his leg and feet open. But Leon couldn’t move, it was like his feet was stuck to the tiles. Like his mind was stuck back-in-time.

“Why didn’t you save me?” Marvin called out again, his voice edging more into a pained croak.

“No, no, no…” Leon shook his head, tears filling his blue eyes.

“They’re all going to die, Leon,” Marvin mused. “Just like me. Just like Ada…”

“Stop— stop it,” Leon pleaded. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

“Claire… Sherry…” Marvin sighed, shaking his head. He then made full eye contact with Leon, his face straight and sour. He said your name.

“Fuck you,” Leon spat. He reached down to his waist hoping to find his pistol holstered there, but was instead met by nothing. He wasn’t in his cop uniform like he’d pictured, but instead, a white v neck t-shirt and a pair of light grey sweatpants. He was in his pyjamas.

Leon made a fist instead, letting his fingernails dig into his skin. If he was hard enough; maybe the pain would wake him up from this real life nightmare. He wanted a gun. He wanted to shoot Marvin— kill him for good— and then maybe, maybe he’d kill himself too. Put an end to all of this finally, so he could stop being an inconvenience to you, and Krauser, and everyone else around him. Leon had changed so much since the Racoon City Incident, there was no telling who he was anymore.

Leon fell to his knees sobbing, the glass beneath him now itching against the material of his sweats, begging to cut through. Leon’s cries were hysterical, terrified wails coming from a petrified 23 year old boy who just missed the person he used to be.

“Leon? Leon!” You’d been calling his name for ten or so seconds before Leon finally heard your voice. He opened his eyes, which were now red and sore, and instead of Marvin standing by the door, he was met with you, your eyes wide and doe-like as you analysed what was before you. Your boyfriend kneeling on the kitchen floor amongst shards of glass and spilt water and specs of blood staining his pants. His cheeks were tear stained although he wasn’t crying anymore.

“I— I—“ Leon choked, unable to force his words out.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you promised, taking big steps over to him and taking his hand, carefully helping him to his feet as you tried to avoid the glass. Leon wrapped his big arm around you and held onto you tight as you walked alongside him, leaving the kitchen and heading into the living room.

Leon slumped down onto the sofa and you curled up beside him.

“Did I wake you up…?” Leon sniffed.

You paused momentarily. He did wake you up, but you knew the immense amount of guilt Leon would feel if he learned that. It would be another thing that he’d blame himself for.

“The rain woke me up,” the little white lie left your lips like velvet. “It’s so loud out there. I think there’s a storm coming.” You frowned.

Leon’s expression matched yours and he looked down at the floor beneath him. Your eyes followed his gaze and you noticed his foot was still bleeding from the glass.

“Oh— oh sweetie, you’re hurt,” you acknowledged, standing up. “Let me go grab a Med Kit.”

Before Leon could reply and even attempt to reassure you that he was fine, you bolted to the bathroom cabinet and grabbed an unused First Aid Spray, before returning to Leon in the living room. You dropped to your knees in front of him and began to tend to his wound.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you said, concentrating on stopping the bleeding. “You know, talking about it might help.”

“I think— I think I’m losing it.” Leon said plainly and without any emotion.

“Losing what, exactly?” you beckoned him further.

Your boyfriend shrugged. “My mind?” he returned your questioning tone.

You stood back up and sat down next to him. You placed both of your hands on Leon’s face and traced the height of his cheekbone with your fingers. He sunk into your warm embrace, his heart rate slowing down from the panicked and erratic speed that it was. You ran your fingers through his tousled dark blonde hair, making sure it was out of his eyes and you could say his beautiful face.

“Is it… the incident?” You use your words carefully after having a conversation with Leon’s therapist about it. You discussed how it was best to not bring up certain words as it may just trigger him more.

Leon nodded silently and you gave him a minute to gather his words. Sometimes, time was all he needed.

“The nightmares have been getting better since you moved in, since we— share a bed. But, I still get them sometimes. This one was a really bad one. I was in the NEST lab, finding all this dirt on Umbrella when… he came. Birkin— mutated— that ugly fuck—“

“And then you woke up?” sensing that he was about to spiral, you made your choice to interrupt Leon.

“Yeah… and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. So I got up and went to get some water but I kept seeing things— feeling things—hearing things. I can’t escape it. It’s too much…”

You grabbed a hold of Leon’s hands and squeezed them with all the strength you could muster. “Leon Scott Kennedy, you are a hero. You and Claire… you saved that little girl. You made it out of that hellhole alive and able to tell the story. You fucking did it! You’re a natural born survivor and you’re brave and— holy shit, you’re the strongest person I know. All the odds were against you and you made it.”

You watched as Leon’s face hardened.

“I won’t rest until Umbrella are done for,” Leon interrupted you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure the world doesn’t see another Racoon City Incident…”

“Okay, good, keep fighting. It’s what you’re best at,” you beamed at your boyfriend and he offered you a small, weak smile. “Leon, I want you to know this won’t be easy but I’ll be with you, every step of the way. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you so much.” Leon sighed, leaning into your body and inhaling. You curled up beside him and placed a kiss into his neck.

“I love you too, my hero.”

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #fan fic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 remake

274 notes · View notes