#this book i read had a torture scene and i felt nothing
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could u pleaseee write a blurb abt reader accidentally hitting rages nuts while try to get comfy cuddle him and he starts swearing and like whining like a little baby cause it hurts and reader juat try’s to comfort him xoxo
ABSOLUTELY YES (assuming i read this correctly, this gif felt fitting) i hope it’s what you wanted, enjoy <33
╰┈➤ rafe gets injured
warnings: swearing.
summary: while trying to get yourself comfortable on top of your boyfriend as you settle down to watch a film, you accidentally hurt him.
the smell of butter popcorn fills the air as you stand in the kitchen, bored. according to you, three minutes is a very long time to wait for popcorn. “you coming baby?” rafe calls from the living room, waiting for you to come watch american psycho with him. “just a minute!” you call back.
the loud beeps of the microwave break your concentration on your nails, alerting you the popcorns done. sighing contently, you open the bag, careful not to burn yourself, before pouring the contents into a large sharing bowl. sparing the kitchen one last glance to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything, you switch off the light and head through to the living room.
as you set the bowl down on the coffee table in front of him, you scanned his figure, internally screaming at how good he looks splayed across the couch. “where am i supposed sit?” you pouted, poking fun at how he’s taken up the whole damn chair. rafe smirks up at you before gesturing for you to simply climb on top of him. deciding to be a bit pedantic, you do exactly that and plonk yourself down on top of him.
nothing could prepare you for the dramatics that would happen next. “fuck!” rafe yells, possibly louder than you’ve ever heard him. your eyes widen at the scene before you. rafe rolls around the rug on the floor, clutching his crotch, possibly in tears.
at first you thought he was being dramatic and let out a loud laugh, that was until he began his torrent of curses.
“it’s not fucking funny y/n! do you know how much that fucking hurt?” rafe shouts out in a weak voice, somewhat out of breath. realising what you had accidentally done, you crawl over to him and sit by his side. rafe flinches as you put your hand on his cheek and turns to face you. “oh my god! i’m so sorry! im so so so so sorry! i didn’t mean to!” you pleaded, noticing the tears welling up over his waterline. stroking his face, you lean down to kiss his forehead while he continues his hold down below.
sighing breathlessly, he rolls over onto his back as the pain subsides. his eyes narrow at you, shooting daggers. “you are so going to regret that y/n” he jokes as he quickly jumps up. before you could blink, rafe had you locked in his arms, pinned underneath him as he began tickling you.
kicking and screaming, you struggle to get away from his grip. “rafe! i-im sorry! i didn’t mean to!” you choke out between laughs.
you could never understand why tickling made a person laugh, especially when it was one of the top five torture methods, or atleast it was in your books.
#dom!rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#soft!rafe cameron#rafe smut#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x fem!reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#obx#outer banks
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The Best Part of Waking Up...
So, just some fluff for a nerdy!Miguel x sassy!reader, featuring all the flat mates...
"Go on, Y/N." Peter poked your side aggressively in an attempt to get you moving faster.
"I'm going, Peter." You hissed, taking a few tentative steps towards the living room. You see, you and Peter had made another one of your idiotic bets, and this time you had lost. Turning, you glared daggers at him. "I don't like you." You mumbled more to yourself than to him.
He rolled his eyes and gave you a none to gentle shove towards your target. Hanging your head, you made your way towards the tan leather couch situated on the far side of the living room. Mkguel O'Hara sat on the couch in question, just reading his book and minding his own business. Poor Migs. You really felt sorry for him. He'd done nothing wrong; he didn't even know about this stupid bet you made.
Gently you perched on the couch keeping a good distance between yourself and Miguel. Looking up you noticed Peter pointing vigorously from you to him. Widening your eyes, you waived him off. "I'll kill you, Peter!" You mouthed furiously. He merely rolled his eyes again and continued his gesturing.
"Eh-hm." You cleared your throat. Miguel didn't even pause in his reading. This wasn't going to be easy. Closing your eyes, you attempted to ignore Peters exaggerated movements behind you, and turned towards Miguel. "Hey, Migs?"
"Hm?" He turned a page and hummed.
"I went to the fridge to look for a snack." So far so good.
"Yeah?" He glanced up at you momentarily before looking back at his book. Taking a deep breath, you released it shakily.
"But you weren't there." You felt your face begin heating as soon as the words left your mouth. Staring off in space, you just sat there. Peter had gone to pieces and was slumped against the wall, laughing with tears in his eyes. It took a full minute for your words to sink in.
"Y/N!" Miguel dropped his book, and turned beet red. You merely continued staring off into the distance. Peter had recovered enough to grab his phone and rush over to take a picture of the unfolding scene. You just staring into the middle distance and Miguel staring straight ahead, the both of you a lovely and distinct shade of red.
"Oh, Y/N, that was worth its weight in gold!" Peter cackled, running off to chem lab before either of you could recover.
(unfortunately, this was only the beginning of the torture)
The Next Morning...
"You two are terrible." Jess shook her head, looking from Ben to Miguel.
"What's the matter, Jess, can't take the heat?" Ben looked at her sideways, reaching the kitchen before either of his friends. Miguel merely gave a small smirk and shook his head.
"All I'm saying is that it's never a fair race. Both of you are muscle blund gym rats "
"Sounds like a sore loser to me." Ben chuckled, reaching the fridge. Just as he reached for the handle, his hand froze in midair. Squinting he leaned in to read a yellow sticky note attached to the freezer door. "Hey, Jess, c'mere." He gestured for her to join him. Jess leaned over his shoulder and similarly squinted. Pulling her head back she stifled a laugh.
"Hey, Migs," she covered her mouth to hide her smile and turned to her friend. Miguel's brows scrunched and he gave Jess a nervous smile.
"Looks like someone left you a note, punk." Ben made no effort to hide the humor dancing in his eyes. Ben and Jess stumbled over each other in an attempt to give Miguwl room to read. He bent to read the note, just as he heard Jess whispering to Ben.
"It's a truth." Miguel shook his head and squinted.
"The Best Part of Waking Up Is Miguel O'Hara in Your Cup"
Jess went to pieces, leaning her head on Ben's shoulder. With a moan, Miguel rested his own forehead against the freezer door. Why had he read that out loud? Leaning back, he squinted again at the writing. "Y/N." He said in a flat tone. Jess' head shot up and she looked at Miguel before looking back at Ben and gesturing for them to vamoose. Straightening his shoulders, Miguel pulled the sticky note off of the freezer door and crumpled it in his hand. "Y/N."
Two Days Later...
You had been avoiding him like the plague. Any time you even thought you heard his voice or his name, you made sure that you were gone like the wind. It was 6 in the morning and Miguel was just coming back from his run.
As he entered the kitchen he tensed up, dreading what might have been left for him on the fridge today. Yesterday it had been simply, Miguel O'Hara Part of a Balanced Breakfast, he'd almost ripped the handle off the fridge door for that one. This morning, however, there wasn't a note on the freezer door. He relaxed his shoulders and opened the door to grab a water.
"Hey, Migs." You peaked your head into the kitchen shyly. He whipped around at the sound of your voice. "Y/N." He nodded and unscrewed the cap from the bottle. Gingerly you inched into the kitchen and pulled a glass out of one of the cabinets. Placing it on the counter you slid it his way and perched on one of the island counter stools. Miguel looked at you warily but took the offered glass.
"Thanks." As he poured the water into the glass, he felt your eyes on him.
"Hey, Migs." He tensed.
"Yes, Y/N?" He looked at you from the corner of his eye. You refused to make eye contact and were a fidgeting mess.
"You're moves are as smooth as hot butter on a bald monkey."
"CRASH!"
The glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. He felt his face heat as he began to sputter.
"Excuse me?!" His eyes widened in shock as he turned to stare at you. Quickly you looked at him before jumping off the stool and running from the kitchen. Peter stood around the corner clutching his side and laughing.
"I hope you're quite satisfied with yourself, Peter." You narrowed your eyes and spat at him before stalking off to your room.
"Oh, I am." He chuckled to himself... moments before he was slammed back against the wall. "Hey!" Peter looked up to see a very livid Miguel staring down at him. He'd pinned him against the wall with his arm and was fuming.
"I'm guessing I have you to thank for this week?" Peter winced at the muscle that ticked in Miguel's jaw.
"It's just a little harmless fun, Migs-"
"I don't find it very fun, Peter." He narrowed his eyes at him.
"Yeah, I sensed that. Man, you'd think that a man of your age would have mellowed out enough to take a joke."
"I can take a joke, Peter. A joke. This is taking it too far. And to drag Y/N into your sick joke?" He pulled back and released Tony. The shorter man rubbed his arm and squinted up at Miguel.
"She lost a bet." Miguel's eyes lit in interest.
"A bet?" Peter nodded. Miguel looked Peter over one last time before turning and stalking off.
"Man, can't even take a joke." Peter winced at the pain in his arm and wandered off to the lab. Miguel quickly made his way to your door and knocked gently.
"Y/N?" He called softly. The sound of your reluctant shuffle could be heard before you opened the door a crack. He almost chuckled at the way you eyed him warily. "Can I come in?" Standing aside you opened the door slightly wider. "Help yourself." He pushed past you quickly, and leaning his hip against the edge of your desk he crossed his arms. Closing the door, you leaned against it and mirrored his position. "How'd you like to help me pay Peter back for this week?" You straightened at the question. Smirking, you made your way over to Miguel and sat in the desk chair. "I'm all ears."
One Week Later...
For the last week everyone has noticed how close you and Miguel had become. You were always found putting your heads together and whispering. Peter was beginning to get nervous, as every time he entered a room that the two of you were it, you would both train your eyes on him and begin whispering furiously. It also just so happened that the first snow fall of the season happened this week. For the prank you two had planned, you wanted to wait until the first snow. The plan was simple.
"Hey, Peter." You got his attention on morning while you were making coffee.
"What's up, Y/N?" He called in his usual chipper tone, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet.
"What's that?" You point frantically out the terrace door. Peter squinted his brows at you skeptically before walking over to the terrace.
"I don't see anything."
"Oh, Peter, that!" You begin pointing and waiving frantically. "Please go check!" You tried to make your voice sound as needy as possible. Narrowing his eyes at you, Peter nonetheless pulled open the terrace door.
"Don't let this door lock on me." Peter gave you a pointed look. Shaking your head, you held the door. "I don't see-"
"CLICK." You quickly latched the door shut. Peter spun around and instantly realized that he'd been had.
You locked the door and corssed your arms, flashimg hima wicked grin. Peter looked at you with a look of betrayel in his eyes. He began waiving his arms around sporadically and shaking his fist at you.
"Did it work?" Miguel's head popped around the corner.
"It did! And splendidly!" You turned towards him with a beaming smile of your own.
With a chuckle and a shake of your head you turned back to your coffee mug and began filling it with the wonderfully hot caffeinated liquid. Reaching for a spoon you began stirring some sugar into the cup. You froze, sensing a large presence behind you. Large arms went around your waist and a nose nudged against your ear.
"You know, Y/N," You shivered at Miguel's low tone. "I'm kinda like coffee... I grind so fine." Dropping your spoon, you spun around. Releasing his grip on your waist, he raised a brow at you and winked.
"Miguel!" You blinked rapidly as he chuckled and strutted out of the kitchen.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara x you#atsv#miguel imagine#miguel x reader#fluff
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once morpheus figures out you have a thing for his voice he uses his skills as the prince of stories to read you the filthiest of stories and you think you can escape him by being awake but he does it through the radio he's in your head while you're trying to act normal in public there's no escaping this menace
YES ANON YES!!! Dream out here torturing while purring in your ear reading smutty stories 🫠
“Say it again,” he growled. His voice reverberated right beside her ear, sending a chill of pleasure down her spine. “Beg for it, sweet girl. I want you to beg for it.”
You were hunched forward, burying your face into your arms on the counter. Work, for crying out loud, you were at work. Yet, Dream decided he was going to have fun with you. He always knew the effect his voice had on you. However, he recently discovered your collection of erotic books. As he combed through the books, an idea started to form.
Why not read some of them to you?
You possibly would have loved the idea, if you were in the Dreaming or at home. But, no. Dream purposely waited until you were at work to read some stories, skipping directly to all the smutty scenes. You couldn’t run away or silence him, because he spoke directly into your mind. His voice vibrated within your skull and chest.
“Dream,” you whined to yourself. “Please, I’m a work.”
“Then perhaps this will provide entertainment for you. It is just a story, my dear. I am merely reading, nothing more,” he replied with a teasing tone. “Although, I suppose we both know the power of a story and how words can sway us.”
You groaned.
“Shall I continue?”
No. Yes.
You silence was his invitation to keep going.
“Please,” she whined, unbothered by how pathetic she truly sounded.
“So wet,” he purred. His fingers swept over her dripping folds. He slowly pushed his fingers inside, watching them disappear. She cried out. Her hands clawed at the bed sheets. He smirked, “Such a girl good, my good girl.”
Your whole body felt flustered and hot. Your heart started to race, and a whimper hummed in the back of your throat. “Dream, please,” you begged, wishing he would stop while wanting him to continue.
His amusement was palpable. “Do you not like the story? Shall I find another one?”
“You’re horrible,” you muttered.
“Then I shall find another one more to your liking.”
You huffed. You glanced over to the clock. Three hours, three more hours of this torture.
#dream is a lil shit and I love him#the sandman#morpheus#dream of the endless#morpheus x reader#dream of the endless x reader#smut#anon#ask
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Prompt: “You’ve been strong your whole life, it's okay to feel weak for a moment.”
Song: Carry You - Ruelle
For Tolya x Reader pls!!
Almosts - Tolya Yul Bataar
Trigger Warning on this one folks, I wanted something that felt closer to book content, so I leaned into the Kanej scenes that lead to Kaz plucking out a dudes eyeball, so given that context, strap yourselves in okay?
Grisha Reader, Order Unspecified.
Trigger Warning On This One Pals.
Content Warnings: Kidnapping. Torture. Ideas Of Self Sacrifice. Plans/Thoughts/Ideation's Of Suicide In Context Of Mercy In The Face Of Captivity, Exploration Of The "Better To Fall On Your Own Blade, Than Be Held Prisoner," Mentality. Not Beta/Proof Read.
Part 2
Wherever you are is dark, but it's not cold, if anything it is a little too warm and at times you wonder if they're trying to sweat you out, slowly bring up the heat until you're delirious. There would definitely be more efficient ways to get to you, but you don't know who is holding you, or the extend of their motivations, so their tactics are beyond your comprehension.
You have no doubt what they are after, information you will not willingly give them. You had been trained for these kind of situations, but they were behind you, your days of playing spy for a country that barely noticed if you lived or died were over. You were working for your heart now, and your heart alone, it just so happens that your heart is so closely attached to the Ravkan royalty. A fact which is likely the culprit in your containment.
They think they know something, things they could use, and you might, you probably do, being as close as you are to the Kings Guard. Being as close as you are to Tolya, you know a lot more than you would want anyone to be aware of you knowing.
The visit you get is shortly after you hear the ringing of bells, you think you count three, but in the space you are in you have no way of telling if it day or night. You cannot see the face of the man asking you questions but his accent is easy to place, clearly Fjerdan. You don't like that knowledge, it makes you aware of a pit in your stomach that your heart threatens to fall into.
You are asked questions and you reply in long silent stares, the threats pass you by, and you do not react to them. It never really matters how long ago you stopped being a solider, Baghra had once told you, because the training sticks with you. You doubted her, hoping that having severed yourself from your duties and with enough time passing you could become something more, something outside of the spy you were trained to be, the deceiver and the devoted. But you were grateful for the truth of her words now. All the old teachings bubbling up like they were fresh lessons you'd taken only yesterday, allowing you to not as much as flinch in the presence of your captor. Though you know the threats are not empty, not hollow persuasions and there was no pleasant time to be spent in this prison of their making. They wanted answers, and if you did not give them the answers they wanted, they would extract them from you by whatever means they deemed necessary. You weren't considered human to them after all. You being grisha made you nothing more than an abomination to them. The man talks low, in Fjerdan, and you never were the most apt at language but you recognise one of the words as clearly as in your own tongue, drüsje.
You don't appreciate the man talking words you couldn't understand, and you appreciate less the way he was talking about you. So you sit up, trying to remember anything you could about the language he is using. After all, nothing is more likely to rile up a Drüskelle like hearing their own language in the mouth of a grisha. "Wanden olstrum end kendesorum," you say, and you're sure you're butchering the translation, but you don't have it in you to care, you can barely even remember what the saying means, something about ice not being merciful. "Isen ne bejstrum."
That gets a rise from the man in the shadow. "Tig!" He yells at you. "You have no right to our words, in our tongue."
"Like you have no right to hold me, or is that simply because I am what you consider to be wrong?" you ask.
"I will return soon," he warns you, "and next time I will not be so kind, so consider your options, witch."
"My options," you lean back against the hard wall, "die slowly or die quick?"
"Exactly," he says and closes the door. You hadn't expected him to be so forward, but you knew that was what the situation was. No Fjerdan was going to let a grisha captive go just because they cooperated. There was no making this out alive if the Fjerdan's could help it. Your only real chance was escaping which given every angle you have considered seems nigh on impossible, or to be rescued. You didn't doubt Tolya, or the others for that matter, you know he would try, nothing could stop him trying, but you're not sure that will be enough. You're not sure exactly how much time you can buy yourself to allow him to get to you.
When you're sure you are alone again you shake your arm against your restraints and hear the gentle sound you were hoping to find.
The blade concealed in the fabric of your sleeve, so thin that they wouldn't notice it if they didn't know what they were looking for. An old habit from the work you did for Ravka before, an old habit that your generals used to call 'insurance.'
The blade is durast made, and needle sharp. It's not a blade for fighting, it's a blade for when you're out of options, backed into a corner and have nowhere left to go. It's a blade designed for mercy over the torture you might endure at the hands of your captives, mercy before you can betray what is close to you, and then die for the privilege.
The weight of the blade in your hand is almost non-existent, light as a feather, or a hope. You let your mind run away from you, thinking about home, thinking about card games with Tamar, and arguing over the colour choices with Genya, watching the way David scribbles additions to the list he has that helps him with reminders of ways to bring his wife joy, because she deserves it more than almost anyone you've ever known. You let your mind think of Nikolai looking for any excuse to be less official, leaning over balconies and smiling at the distance, like a boy who's heart is still somewhere out on the ocean. You let yourself think of Zoya and the way she rolls her eyes in a filled room, but somehow never lets you make it through a meeting without a warm drink in your hand, you'd never once asked her, and she had never once asked how you took it, she just knew, she noticed you guess. For all her cold exterior, Zoya had an unintentional tendency to love, even if she couldn't recognise that was what it is. The hardest part is when you let your mind wander to Tolya, you can see him in your mind as clearly as if he was beside you, the version of him you hold close to you, in your memories is kissed by the morning sun, smiling in the morning light, looking far too large to be sitting in the window, but he is doing it anyway, legs against the outer wall, like he could jump down if he wanted, disappear into some adventure, like some hero you'd framed him as in your mind. Your hero. Tolya Yul Bataar, the best part of your history, the thing you'd always be the most grateful for.
You feel the blades weight now as you let yourself think of him, and you force yourself to think of what it means for him if you decide to use it. Losing him, the idea of it alone is the cruelest thing you could experience, and you know that he would not feel dissimilar. But what they wanted from you, the blood they were going to spill in the search for answers, answers you could not give without giving up everyone you cared for, Tolya most of all.
You stare at the blade, wondering, what choice would be more painful, to betray or to leave them alone to preserve what you know. You would rather die than turn on Tolya, you know that as surely as you know anything, you would take his promises to the grave and nothing would stop you from doing that. Even if it means falling on an old insurance policy created by a loyalty you were sworn to without choice, to protect the only thing you would always be loyal to without even asking.
You slip the blade back to where you had found it, not ready to make that choice yet, not ready to give up on the idea that Tolya might just be the hero from all the stories and get here just in time.
You lose track of all sense of time as it passes, creeping by. The third time the Fjerdan visits you're left with a threat you cannot ignore, and the resounding copper taste in your mouth.
You move your arm the best you are able, between your injuries and the tightened restraints and you feel the blade slip out of its holding once again and fall into your hand.
You press a finger to it's tip, and you don't feel it cut into you, you're only sure it has when the blood wells up in a bright red bud on the end of your finger. So thin, so sharp a blade that it might as well slip between nerves at it's finest point. After all, the blade was designed for mercy, designed for moments when you know you're going to die but want to do it on your terms, not theirs.
You try not to think of Tolya. Knowing there is no kindness for him in this. If they kill you, or if you fall on your own blade his loss is the same, and they're matching wounds that only heal slightly differently. You'd hope he would know why you'd choose this option, but lingering on the thoughts of all the things he might feel when he finds you, if he finds you, only makes a pain worse than any torture bleed into your system. Thinking of him makes you want to live more than anything else, but that is becoming less and less of an option.
You hear the movement outside, and your instincts kick in. He shouldn't have been returning so quickly, time may not be real to you but you can still follow the sounds of routine. It doesn't make any sense, but you cannot risk him finding the blade without a chance to use it, losing your only merciful out is not an option. You grip the blade tighter in your hand, which is unsteady, so unsteady and you point the blade towards yourself, pointed end resting against your chest above your heart. You take in a deep breath, eyes on the door. If he wants to come early, you can let him watch his failure.
The door opens and you ready your pressure on the blade, but the eyes you meet in the darkness are not those of your captor, but familiar golden eyes of home.
"Tolya?" you ask and drop the blade, it clatters on the hard floor and he doesn't have time to process it before he is beside you, checking you over, assessing your injuries. "Tolya," you smile, "you came."
"Did you not think I'd come for you?" Tolya asks, gesturing for someone else in the doorway to come in and help with the bindings.
"I didn't know if I was strong enough," you say. This is when he lets his awareness come back in, at first he was too overwhelmed by the sight of you, by the knowledge he had found you, that you were alive, that he could keep you safe, and get you home. That he hadn't had a moment to process what he had been seeing when he opened the door. Zoya steps from the darkness and picks up the blade without saying a word, she recognises it instantaneously, and the look on her face causes you a type of pain you cannot describe.
"You devoted idiot," Zoya whispers to herself, giving you a glare before she storms back out.
"Did you not think I'd come for you?" He repeats. His eyes searching yours. He helps you to your feet, and you can hear Tamar down the hallway, in some fight, cursing in more languages than you know.
"I knew you'd come for me," you say honestly, "but I did not want to betray you before you had the chance. Tolya I would rather die than betray you. They wanted me to betray you-"
"Then betray me," he says, your heart stills in your chest, "if it keeps you safe, it keeps you from harm, betray me, always betray me. I can forgive betrayal, but I cannot forgive the loss of you. I could overcome betrayal, but I can not overcome the loss of you."
"Tolya..." you cannot find words, you're exhausted and in pain and you had been coming to terms with the idea you were not making it out, and yet he found you, and so many different feelings are surging through your body you feel fit to fall down. But he holds you, not letting you fall.
"I," Tolya ever the man of words, the poet, cannot find the right thing to say.
"Tolya, get your sister, make sure we can get out of here, I will take them back to safer ground," Zoya says, more of a command than a suggestion.
Tolya's eyes are blazing, like the idea of letting you out of his sight is the biggest insult Zoya could have said. "If you think I am leaving-,"
"Tolya, take that rage, make it useful," Zoya says, "do you think anyone in this place is capable of stopping me?" She moves her hands together and everyone in the room can feel the static, we all know what she is capable of, Zoya Nazyalensky the grisha who learned to control lightening. "No, so you be useful and I will handle this, we got this far do you think I would allow things to go wrong now?"
Tolya's eyes are on you, the idea of leaving you seems so far from right to him, but you manage to give him a nod, against what you want, against your instincts. You want nothing more than to stay at Tolya's side, at his side you feel stronger, you feel safe, you feel like nothing could happen. But you know Zoya is right, you cannot recall a time she was wrong... the one glaringly obvious one aside.
"It's okay Tolya," you tell him.
"We are not done talking about this," he says. You give him a knowing nod, and he pulls you in for a hug, his grip is so tight you're convinced your bones might snap if he wasn't careful, but he is careful, he is always so very careful with you. "I am so glad to see your face again."
"Not as glad as I am to see yours," you tell him before he disappears down the hallway to find Tamar.
Zoya wastes no time, in the hand she isn't using to support you she holds out the blade. "I am not returning this to you," she says. "This was from a time when Kirigan was in charge, and for all his talk about loving the grisha he used us just like the rest of them. This is a relic from a time where we were worth more dead than as hostages, why do you still have this?"
"You say relic like it much longer ago than it was Zoya," you say, "you don't forget that training so easily."
"You sound like Baghra," Zoya scoffs.
"I know," you admit. Zoya looks at you, and for all the sternness in her face you see a concern behind those eyes.
"I am not giving you this back," she says, "but I understand." She places it back into her pocket and puts her attention on keeping you up, and getting you out. “You’ve been strong your whole life, it's okay to feel weak for a moment.”
"I thought it was strength it took to be a soldier," you say, repeating Zoya's own words back at her.
"I've said many things," Zoya admits, "and although I have meant all of them, there are a few on occasion, that I regret." She looks at you, and you look back at her and for a moment you see past the beauty and the fierceness, you see past the Zoya she always shows, the one you've always known and you see something else, you see a Zoya you suspected was always there but doubted you'd ever see. "You're perfectly strong, but your strength comes from your love more than anything. I've not known you as strong as you've become since you've known him. And as much as I would like to say there are stronger motivators for the fight inside you, I saw the way he fought for you, and I see how badly you fought to make it long enough for him to get to you, and I doubt you could get a stronger fight than that."
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any time, any place
title: any time, any place | part of christmas must be something more
pairing: suh johhny x lee taeyong x nakamoto yuta x jeong jaehyun x oc
genre: smut, non-idol au, established relationship, polyamorous relationship, smutmas
summary: the hectic rhythm before the holidays is stressful, but nothing that a lot of sex can’t fix.
warnings: free use | sex with multiple partners, with yuta (somnophilia, fingering, sex), with johhny (minor' knife play', orgasm denial, rough oral sex, sex), with taeyong (oral sex, dry humping, cmnf, mirror), with jaehyun (rough anal, tied up, multiple orgasms), praise, degradation, mentioned 3some, a lot of touching. * the scenes are in this order so if you want to skip one, you can. all the kinks are consensual but there are still implied cnc elements in the kinks so if you feel uncomfortable don't read it.
words: 9.233k
taglist: @webscreams @multislut @roxyvogue @dullparadisewithtxt @yutas-princess02 @seongwhaffels @cosmiczen | couldn't tag: @yutascoffee127
Taeyong’s idea had brought back to the surface a few things Jade wanted to try, but one thing was filling her mind more than the others. It wasn’t even a want, at this point it was a need; the holiday season was the worst on her mental health and she needed to arrive on the 24th with her brain not in shambles.
And usually, she had no problems bringing kinks up, but this felt so taboo she had no idea how to confront them. What if they found this weird? What if they found her weird?
“Why is this so urgent?” Johnny asked when Jade pushed him and Yuta into her bedroom in a rush, dragging them from the conversation they were having with Taeyong about how to set up the lights this year.
“Because I want to tell you something, but I don’t know how to bring it up to all of you at the same time,” she confessed, making them sit on the bed while she walked in circles, biting her nails nervously. Maybe if only two out of four rejected her absurd proposal it would’ve felt less humiliating.
“Are you pregnant?” Yuta asked, making her stop and glare at him.
“What the hell, no,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s about Taeyong’s idea.”
“Uhm,” Johnny hummed, rubbing his thigh. “I thought we agreed with that, right? Did you change your mind?”
“No, I didn’t. I want to try something but I — you promise you won’t judge me?”
They looked at her and then at each other with a furrow but nodded anyway. “Why would we?”
“Because we have never done anything of that kind and it’s… potentially embarrassing, but I want to try and I also need to just turn my brain off.”
“Okay, isn’t this all about doing something new? Just tell us,” Yuta encouraged her, resting his elbows on his knees without dragging his eyes away from her.
She took a deep breath, scratching her neck nervously, and then whispered, “I want to try free use.”
“What?” Johnny asked.
“See! You said you wouldn’t judge!”
“We barely heard you,” he defended.
“Oh come on, you heard that right.”
“Free use?” Yuta asked to make sure, and she hummed, torturing her nails.
“Yeah… and for the whole weekend...for now…”
“Oh, wow, you are stressed,” Johnny chuckled, making her sigh and sit between them, hiding her face into Yuta’s chest.
“Hey, it’s fine,” her older boyfriend reassured her, caressing her back, “I think that’s kind of hot, never truly thought about it but why not, we can try. But we need to set some rules first.”
“Are you sure you don’t think I’m weird?” She pulled away, this time playing with Yuta’s fingers to ease the tension.
“Yes, we will never find you weird. And you’re right, I think it can help all of us destress a little,” Johnny said. “Now, can we talk with the others?”
She hummed, standing up, still without letting go of Yuta’s hands, and walked out of the room with them at her sides.
“What happened?” Taeyong asked, lifting his gaze from the book he was reading, and stopping for a second of caressing Jaehyun’s hair while the younger was laying on his lap.
“Nothing, she needs to tell us something,” Johnny explained, sitting on the other end of the couch, dragging her on top of him, while Yuta sat right beside him.
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Jade stopped them as soon as Jaehyun resurrected from slumber to stare at her with wide eyes and Taeyong’s jaw almost fell on the floor. “I wouldn’t give that news splitting you.”
“Oh, you worried me for a second,” Taeyong whispered.
“You gave me hope for a second,” Jaehyun joked.
“I think this will make you happy just as much,” Yuta kidded, caressing her thigh, rubbing his thumb on her covered skin.
“So?” Taeyong asked, tilting his head, eyes moving back and forth on his partners with curiosity.
“It’s about the whole exploring new things, you know?”
They hummed, eager to hear where this was going.
“Well, I want to try free use…” she whispered, not knowing how to feel not able to read their reactions. “Are you disgusted or you don’t know what it is?”
“I’m not sure it’s what I think it is,” Taeyong confessed.
“Yeah, me too.”
“It’s pretty much what the name says, you can fuck me any time you want.”
“Any time?”
“Well, we have to set some rules but considering how horny and stressed I am, I think it would be weird for me not to be the one jumping on you.”
“But like… without asking?”
She nodded, “you already have my consent,” she explained, “and you are even free to don’t go all the way.”
“Oh,” Jaehyun whispered, “like… like a doll?”
She chuckled, “Yeah. You really didn’t know about it?”
“No? Do I look like I would be into it?” Maybe, that sounded tempting, and he surely had heard something before, he just didn’t know it was a kink, and he didn’t know it worked like that.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be this shy about this,” she replied with a chuckle on her lips.
“Yeah, as if you wouldn’t have her anywhere and anytime always,” Johnny joked.
“Shut up, I never thought of just starting without asking.”
“To make it safer people usually pick other things that signal consent,” Yuta explained. “For example, a given shirt could mean completely free use, while another one to check-in before doing anything, and another one would mean that she doesn’t want to. As horny as she can be, going at it for so long might be exhausting, so it’s a safer way to still keep the exciting parts of the whole free-use thing without crossing lines.”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Taeyong spoke after a while, mind already running imagining things.
“So, are you okay with this?” She asked, looking at her other two boyfriends, waiting for their consent with anticipation.
“Yes.”
At the start, they were all too hesitant for Jade’s liking, it wasn’t even about the thrill of wanting to try it out, it was cause she was scared they were forcing themselves into it when they didn’t find it hot at all. The most they did were shy touches and some more heated kisses, but all the fun stopped there.
Yuta was the first one to make a real move. He didn’t even intend to try it out that way, and that day, but when he came downstairs after finishing writing an article and saw her sleeping on the couch he couldn’t help but stop and stare in awe. White long socks covering her until her knees, a skimpy short skirt barely hiding her ass, and a warm sweater as a top. He found the contrast quite absurd but it was such a typical thing of her, even when they were outside she almost never wore tights under her skirt — at least they were longer than this sexy trap she pulled out when she wanted to act too shy to explicitly beg for a good fuck. ‘I’m not cold on my legs, my feet, yes, my feet are always cold, and my nipples get hard at the slightest blow of a breeze but my legs are fine,’ she had explained to him when he asked one time, and he had tried to dissertated how at night when she pulled all the covers on her, leaving him freezing she was cold, but now, cold or warm, it didn’t really matter.
“Is she really sleeping?” Yuta muttered to himself, studying her expression, flushed face against the mattress, curls covering most of it to truly understand if she was asleep or not. But then his eyes landed on the bracelet on her wrist, the silver one they decided signaled free consent, and trying to hold back became harder. This was part of the play, right?
“Every time, I mean it, even when I’m sleeping if I have this on.” Her words resonated in his brain, but he still felt there was something wrong, she was sleeping, and he felt weird about it, so he decided that maybe he could try it out later. But when she moved around, skirt rising up and bare ass in full display, it got harder to contain himself.
So one of his hands slipped on her leg, brushing her through her socks before meeting the naked skin that was, weirdly enough, warm before creeping up on her ass. But one more movement brought him out of his trance, hand retracting as if he had been caught stealing, and he got up again, walking back and forth like a madman.
And while he was so torn between his doubts and morals, a voice distracted him.
“Hi,” she whispered, voice hoarse because of the sleep, and face signed with the marks of the sofa.
“Hi,” Yuta said back, waiting for her to talk, to invite him, but she didn’t, of course, not, that was the point of it, no words spoken, not at the moment at least. But she did something before turning around and giving him his back, the tingling of the bracelet hanging from her wrist dangling out of the couch was the sign he was waiting for.
So with less hesitant steps, Yuta moved closer to her, legs trapping her under him, seeing her eyes were open, partially at least, she still had the fucked out sleepy look on her face but also a victory smirk on her lips.
That was what she was waiting for.
And while he found himself there, Yuta thought that maybe that was what he was waiting for too. There was something about watching her sleep, not only now, but always. The way she was totally relaxed, the way her lips puffed slightly and her lashes rested on her cheeks. Yuta couldn’t deny he had found himself staring more than once. But this, her skin so exposed and her body so vulnerable for something so delicate to happen, sparked a new flame inside him.
Yuta pushed the skirt up, folding it on her back, revealing that nothing else was covering her, and traced his fingers on her soft ass, eliciting soft, muffled whimpers already and making her hips shift side to side once. He got she wasn’t totally asleep, but tired enough to don’t even try to take an active role in it. Yuta didn’t mind, he actually loved that she trusted them enough to try something like this.
He moved back a bit, standing over her knees, while his hands cupped her ass, pulling the cheeks apart. “Fuck,” he murmured when her wetness glistened, slowly dripping down her folds. “You’re so wet.”
He had no idea how he could fight the urge to pull out his hard cock and push into her right away, but for some reason, he did. It was probably because he wanted to feel her more, to don’t risk fucking her awake with strong thrusts he couldn’t control. So he easily slipped two fingers inside her, pussy welcoming him as if she had been waiting just for that. A low moan breathed out of her lips, and he could barely see her nails scratch against the couch under her but no other reaction came from her, except her walls squeezing around his digits.
His head rolled back at the sight of his fingers stretching her out and the cum coating them white. He should’ve been used to it but he gave up by now, accepting that this love-haze was going to last forever. His other hand wrapped around her waist, kneading the flesh, just like he was used to doing always, knowing how much she loved physical contact, and as a clear answer, another sound of approval rolled out of her lips.
Yuta kept pumping his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow rhythm, and casually moving his thumb on her clit, watching with a grin on his face as her ass arched back. He didn’t even care at this point as if she was truly sleeping or just pretending, it didn’t matter as long as her body reacted that well.
At the start, she planned on staying in that blurred state between sleep and wake, but somehow the small touches were lulling her back into a deep state of slumber. It surely was all caused by all the stress that weighed on her shoulders, but this felt especially nice and sleep-inducing. And when the first orgasm hit, she could only feel a striking sensation under her skin, making her tremble in his hold.
Yuta moaned, pumping his fingers a few more times before getting up to leave his pants and underwear on the floor, sitting on top of her in a second. He wasted no seconds pushing into her, reaching down until his abs pressed against the soft flesh of her ass. But he didn’t start moving, he leaned down, moving her hair to the side, finally fully seeing her beautiful, relaxed face, leaving kisses all over it, on her cheeks, on her lips, until he reached her neck, moving the top to the side to nibble between her neck and shoulder. He stayed still for a while, enjoying the sensation of intimacy this moment emanated. Oddly enough the house was also pretty quiet, even if they were all home, except for Jaehyun.
But his mind got swiftly brought back to her when her walls clenched around him, he let out a deep groan, forehead falling against her shoulders, inhaling her scent while he started moving, dragging his hips back and forth slowly. When he glimpsed at her, he was sure she was fully back to sleep, eyes completely shut and breath steady. That thought made something inside him click, moving back to envelop her waist with his hands, squeezing tight.
Yuta was enjoying it much more than he expected just twenty minutes before. He felt like his head was clouded by desire, there was something about the way she looked right now. He loved her usual outburst of energy, especially in bed, she was a lot, always, so he had no idea what part of his brain was turning him on so much seeing her like that.
Her small movements, barely perceptible, were driving him insane; her mumbled whimpers, her ass pushing back against him every now and then, her hands scratching against the couch. He still tried to keep his rhythm steady and slow cause there was something romantic in all of this and he didn’t want that magic to disappear.
Yuta loved fucking her like this, he loved it even when she laid prone bone and didn’t stand on her knees, but right now it wasn’t what he wanted, and he cursed her for picking the worst sleeping position possible. He wanted to see her, to watch her chest move up and down, maybe even open her top to reveal her breast, but he didn’t know if it was worth the risk.
“Oh, fuck it,” he murmured after thinking about it for a few moments, pulling out slowly, and gently trying to turn her over.
“Yuta…” she mumbled, blinking her eyes before rubbing them with the back of her hands.
“Shh, it’s me. Are you tired?”
She hummed, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “I… Yuta,” she breathed out, eyes closing again and hips lifting up against him.
“Go to sleep, babe. You’re exhausted,” he shushed, caressing the hair that stuck to her forehead back, kissing her lips, and sinking into her again. “Let me fuck you back to sleep, would you?” He hummed, caressing her cheek with circular motions and doing the same on her hip, it always worked when she needed to relax and it was working even now. Only a faint ‘yes, please,’ rolled on her tongue before her eyes closed again.
Yuta held back the loud moans, shaky hand moving to unbutton the first button of the sweater, the material soft enough that her boobs were visible with no need to undress her more, they weren’t even completely exposed, but Yuta liked the desperation of this, of clothed sex. He liked that he could only partially see her skin while her soft tits bounced with his slow strokes, and his brain spun just seeing how hard her nipples were, peeking against the midnight blue of her cardigan.
Yuta truly wanted to take it slow and don’t rush things up and wake her up, he was already surprised by the fact that she didn’t do it, yet. Jade had never been a heavy sleeper, actually, she was one that got up at the lightest of sounds. And the only logical thought that she was so stressed that she needed to relax so much actually made him sad for a brief moment until he realized he was helping with that and his thrusts picked back up where they had stopped.
He couldn’t hold back anymore, if she was stressed they were all just as much, and that was all he needed to distress. He didn’t even know how much she could feel of this, but now that her pussy was clenching around him tighter, and her chest was panting while her lips were parted to let out moans, he imagined she felt everything. And everything mixed together was what pushed him over the edge, coming inside of her with harder thrusts that finally woke her up again.
Yuta stared at her, trying to calm his breath, still buried inside of her, watching her rub her nose and stretch, legs still shaking from the orgasm that must’ve woken her up.
“Hi,” Jade mumbled, a sleepy, small smile on her face as she looked back at him.
Yuta chuckled, caressing her hair, and kissing her. “Hi. Less tired?”
She shook her head, “Not really, maybe you can make me fall asleep another time.”
The day after it was Johnny the one that made another move. Jade was in the kitchen, a vinyl playing in the living room while she hummed to the songs and sorted all the ingredients to bake a cake. The house was empty except for her and Johnny, but she had no idea where he was, after breakfast and a shower, she didn’t see him anymore.
But he was there, leaning against the doorframe, silently watching her swing her hips to the tune. He loved when she wore these types of dresses that highlighted her curves, hugging her body perfectly, and that was one of his favorites, antique pink, short sleeves reaching mid-shoulder, bottoms on the front, and a queen Anne neckline.
When she turned around, she screamed, bowl almost falling to the floor. “You scared m —”
“Shh,” Johnny whispered, placing a finger on her mouth, a brief moment of hesitation glinting in her eyes before it clicked. Things weren’t as hectic as she expected them to be, so the whole free-use thing was starting to slip out of her mind too. “Keep baking,” he ordered, turning her around again, his big hands placed on her hips. “I love this dress,” he whispered, starting to kiss her neck while he pulled it up with slow tugs at the hip height, “makes you look like a milf.”
“Johnny,” she lamented, even if she found that compliment hot. “Hey,” she said when he slapped her ass.
“You’re forgetting too often it’s daddy for you, mommy,” he groaned before biting her earlobe, “but anyway, I don’t want to hear you talk. Bake.”
She nodded swiftly, luckily for her she had everything she needed within easy reach, and only had to add the ingredients in the Thermomix, but Johnny was distracting, too much for her to do her tasks without shaking and already dripping between her legs.
“I was watching you for so long, and you didn’t even notice…” he whispered, cupping her breast, smiling when he didn’t feel a bra. “Are you that naïve? So unaware of your surroundings? Do you have any idea of how hot you are?”
She didn’t reply, breath faltering in her throat, and ass pushing back as the only response, a groan trapping in her mouth when she felt his hard cock press against her.
“Of course, you do, pretty doll knows exactly how to get us hard for her,” he teased, fingers lingering on her skin, making her shiver.
The way he was talking about her in the third person shouldn’t have turned her on as it did, but well, she shouldn’t have even been surprised anymore.
“Let’s see if this doll is only pretty or if she can do something,” he whispered before she could feel him struggle with his pants, only pulling his cock out after pushing her dress up, fixing it on her hip.
She bit back a moan when his tip rubbed against her slick hole, teasing her clit, and making her knees buckle as she tried to read the process to finish preparing the cake. The worst idea she ever had.
“Fuck,” Johnny groaned when he pushed into her, pussy opening so nicely to welcome him in, big cock filling her so well she couldn’t help but moan. “Told you to keep baking, doll.”
She nodded, biting her thumb before trying to concentrate.
“Oh, and keep singing, I love your voice.”
She cursed him mentally but tried not to lose her focus. After all, she wanted this, and she had no intention of backing up, it was hot, but it was so impractical for someone like her that wasn’t the best at not being desperate, and always got what she wanted with the snap of a finger.
“Look at you,” he taunted with a sharp laugh, “shaking, already?”
“It’s — it’s hard to con —” she gagged when his hand wrapped around her mouth, keeping her quiet.
“Dolls don’t talk,” he whispered in a growl, deep voice hitting straight to her core. “All my teasing, all my degradation, you take it and don’t say a word, got it?”
Jade nodded, nails running against the counter, and pussy clenching around him at which Johnny let out a mocking laugh. “Pathetic.”
“Gotta make sure you keep quiet,” he said, looking around to find something he could stuff in her mouth, looking for a towel until his eyes caught a glimpse of a knife. “Open up,” he ordered, humming when her lips parted. “And now careful,” he placed the handle of the knife on her lips, “keep it in place, and keep baking.”
Her heart skipped a beat, adrenaline rushing wildly in her bones as soon as the handle met her lower lip, the thrill of the situation getting to her head.
“Are you turned on by this?” He asked, but it was more of a surprised annotation for him, he considered she would safe-word out of it, but from the way her body was reacting, he doubted that. “Oh, pretty doll is nasty. What if you get hurt? You know it’s dangerous, right? Gotta be careful, doll.” But his actions were the total opposite of his caring words, his hips slammed hard against her, fucking her with force, and it was basically impossible to keep quiet and especially keep baking. But she tried anyway, shaky hands moving to mix the ingredients, and eyes skimming to read the instructions as she kept the knife still in her mouth.
“Look at you, the perfect wife, aren’t you?” His hand left her hip to reach her clit and started rubbing it with slower moves. She nodded, humming around the knife, shaking when she felt the grip loosen, lowering her head and clenching her hands on the counter before she grabbed the last bowl and poured it into the mixer. “Baking something for us and letting me use you just like a perfect fuck doll.”
Her head rolled back and Johnny slapped her ass.
“Careful, I said. You don’t want to hurt me with that blade, right?”
She looked to the side, trying to glimpse at the utensil trapped between her lips to see that he placed it so the cutting part was facing him, and her eyes widened. “Sorry,” she mumbled around it.
“Just be careful, doll. Don’t make me regret getting you,” he whispered against her ear and she had to force her head straight, about to roll back once again, this time surely cutting him.
She tried to grab a plate and move on with the preparation but there weren’t many coherent thoughts in her mind and her hands were shaking too much, causing the plate to slip and crash on the ground, fortunately without breaking.
“Fuck, you are useless, come here,” he groaned, grabbing her wrists and pushing them behind her back in a rough movement. She wanted to look back, hating not seeing him, but she couldn’t, and only let out muffled apologies as she tried to conceal the other moans.
“Stop apologizing, you just have to feel good, can you at least do that?” Johnny asked, another slap landing on her ass, making her twitch and nod repeatedly. “Good, take it all like a good doll.”
She closed her eyes, a furrow on her forehead with every rough thrust that pushed her hip bone against the hard surface, surely leaving marks for days to come. Moans growing louder when one hand reached forward to grope her boobs, tugging and squeezing.
“Feel so good, doll, just what I needed,” he groaned, hips moving even deeper and faster, and she could tell he was about to come, cock twitching and moans getting deeper. “You’re so fucking wet, fuck, the wettest you’ve ever been, fuck. Can’t believe you like this so much.”
She didn’t even reply with a mumble, too lost in the pleasure of feeling the orgasm so close now. Her ass pushed back against him, back arching, and pussy clenching, but when Johnny pulled out, she let out a whine, forgetting of the knife that fell and bounced a few times on the counter.
The tsk sound of disappointment coming from behind made her freeze, hands now free again since Johnny wasn’t holding them in place anymore.
“Bad doll,” he mocked, open wide hand colliding against her ass, making her flinch, and moan. Johnny chuckled, turning her around and pushing her on her knees.
“Johnny, please no,” she begged before groaning when he tugged her hair back with a harsh grip. “Daddy, daddy, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think you are,” he said, tapping her lips with his cock. “You were such a good girl, what happened?” He cooed gently, but he started fucking her mouth immediately, grinning when he met her pleading eyes. “Oh, you wanted to come, didn’t you? Wanted me to fill you full of my cum?”
She nodded, choking on him, barely having time to adjust to his size, it was impossible every time no matter that it had been years.
“I don’t think it’s part of the deal, doll. But I would’ve, you know daddy is so nice to you... if you act well. You were a mess, doll. You don’t get pleasure,” he said through moans, facefucking her just to reach his climax. His head rolled back after their eyes met, the way she was staring up at him enough to push him closer to the edge. His fingers wrapped harder in her hair, keeping her in place until he knew it was a matter of seconds. “Come here, turn around,” he ordered, jerking her up on her legs again and bending her on the counter roughly, never letting go of the hold while he pushed the tip inside and emptied himself into her, barely fucking into her entrance, just enough to get off and make a dripping mess between her legs.
She muttered a curse under her breath, trying to squeeze her thighs to come but by now her orgasms slipped out too far to reach it, and only turned around, meeting Johnny’s face, a grin on his lips while he pushed his hair back.
“So, knives?” He hummed, hugging her, pushing the dress back in place, and leaving small kisses on her shoulder.
Jade rolled her eyes, pushing him away with a push of her ass, and then said, “stuck in your throat if you don’t help me finish the cake.”
Johnny laughed, kissing her again on the lips before nodding. “Of course, I’ll help my wife, if I feel generous I might even eat you out after.���
Taeyong couldn’t deny he found that hot, knowing she was walking around the house with no underwear on — not that it was different than usual, to be honest, he knew Jade liked being free more than she confessed — to watching the others touch her more than usual, tease her, push her on her knees or bend her over. But that was it, he liked to watch. A bit because he had no idea how that would work, he wasn’t the active one, he liked when she had control, and a bit because something about the whole thing was turning him on.
But right now that he was going crazy over an essay he had assigned to his students, he thought that maybe this whole free-use thing could’ve been useful.
“You needed me?” Jade’s voice rang cheerfully in his ears as her head peeked from the door, staring at him with a big smile on her face.
He hummed, signaling her to get inside with two fingers, and pushing his glasses back on his nose.
“Oh, you’re grading. Need help with the essays?”
Taeyong shook his head, moving the chair behind before his head pointed under the desk. “Need help to relieve the stress they give me.”
A wide smile crossed her face before she kneeled on the floor, luckily for her the desk was high and she could comfortably stay underneath it. She pulled his pants and underwear down as soon as he got back in place and she could hear the sound of the keyboard.
“You’re not hard,” she whispered.
“Nothing hot about terribly copied and pasted essays about the ’50 fashion.”
She chuckled, imagining his face while he said that; she couldn’t lie, Taeyong was very hot when he was pissed off, he was also quite scary, but as long as that wasn’t directed at her, she could only think he was hot.
She swiftly leaned closer, grabbing his soft dick with one hand before licking the tip. She didn’t take it all in, taking her time to pump it in her hand and occasionally suck the tip, she knew Taeyong was incredibly sensitive and loved it, he wasn’t one for messy blowjobs, always liked things clean — except when it was time to eat her pussy — and he lived for attention, small touches, long kisses — wherever they were aimed at.
“Fuck,” he muttered, fingers tapping on the keyboard aggressively and she couldn’t get if it was referring to her or whatever atrocity one of his students wrote in the paper.
And those essays must’ve been really fucking terrible because Taeyong did something he would never do. She gagged around him, eyes wide in surprise when, after a while, one of his hands reached down and shoved her down. Her nose pressed against his skin, making it harder to breathe while she coughed hard around his size. Not only Taeyong didn’t like it messy, and now it was getting messy with all the spit she couldn’t swallow and inevitably spilled out of the corners of her mouth, but also he was never this rough. His hold on her was fierce, keeping her in place with no chance of pulling away.
Her ass moved side to side, squirming desperately as she tried to adjust to his intrusion and breathe somehow, but she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t getting turned on.
“Past their twenties and this is how they write?” Taeyong huffed, and she would’ve giggled if that was another situation, but now she could only gag, an embarrassing amount of drool rolling down his thighs and smearing on her chin when he started moving her head up and down, still keeping her pressed down every time she reached the base. It shouldn’t have been this turning on, it should’ve felt embarrassing, but the way her cunt throbbed between her panties was a clear sign it was driving her insane.
She was also losing count of how much time had passed, feeling her brain spinning as the air in her lungs dimmed more and more, and only a louder, lewdest gag made him let go of her head, finally letting her take a deep breath that pushed some fresh oxygen in her brain.
It didn’t last long, though, Taeyong was seriously losing his patience, not only the errors were getting on his nerves but it was also clear as the sky how they did it just because they had to, putting no interest or care in it. And if he didn’t have all that pent-up stress on his shoulders he wouldn’t have taken it upon her, but right at the moment, he was seeing red.
When Taeyong pushed her down, she took a deeper breath, eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, and low grunts started rolling out of his mouth. Those sounds were so rare to hear, always used to the submissive, breathy and high-pitched whimpers and whines he let out. And the amount of cum drooling between her legs was pathetic, but it was even more what she did after. Luckily his feet were in front of him, the left one positioned right between her legs, she didn’t even do it on purpose, her body lowered just a bit and when she met it, covered with a sock, her body started moving on its own. It wasn’t her proudest moment, but she needed to find relief somewhere.
Taeyong didn’t get it immediately, he only quirked a brow when he started to feel the cloth wet and stick to his skin. He looked down with a smirk on his face even if he could only see the top of her head, and grinned. “Getting off on my feet like a horny puppy? Really?”
She hummed, gargling around him, another river of spit running down her chin.
“So fucking desperate you don’t even have a bit of shame, have you?”
The harsh comment only made her grind on him harder and faster, clit rubbing aggressively the textured fabric increasing the sensation of pleasure.
And Taeyong would’ve liked to act unfazed and focus on his screen but unfortunately, she was distracting, and the more he looked at those words on the paper the more he lost his temper. He lifted her head up, moving back with the chair, watching as she crawled out of the desk, face stained with tears and spit smashed all over her lower half and cheeks, some even connecting her lashes. The view was enough to make him groan and throw his head back.
Jade didn’t move closer right away, she took her time to stare at him too. He was wearing normal house clothes, his black pants at his knees and the black sweater covering his chest, and yet he looked so powerful with his legs spread, hard cock staining the shirt with pre-cum and spit, and neck in perfect view, his jaw so sharp she could cut her fingers.
“Come here, pup, you’re not done.” Something about his sudden dominant switch made her brain spin and her clit throb, pushing her knees on the cold ground to sit between his legs again. “Keep your mouth open, okay? I’ll fuck it nice and rough and all you can do is hump my feet like a desperate puppy. Got it?”
She nodded enthusiastically before her lips parted and her eyes stared at him, eyelids falling shut as soon as the head of his cock hit the back of her throat when he started thrusting up with controlled, fast moves. He really was stressed to act like this. But she didn’t mind, even if his balls slapped with roughness against her chin, the spit that fell on them before creating dirty wet sounds resonating loudly, filling her brain along with the gagging sounds coming from the back of her throat.
Taeyong didn’t think he was going this hard, and he was quite surprised at how messily she was taking him, considering how ten times harder the others used to go on her and how well she took it anyway, but he didn’t mind if she wanted to be messier this time. Something in the way her wet eyes were looking at him and how he could feel her throat clench around his tip was enough to set him off.
She gasped loudly when he tugged her away, coughing and sputtering messily, ass pressing down to grind with force against him, eyes dropping as she concentrated only on her pleasure and Taeyong only stared for a while.
“Take your clothes off,” he ordered, letting go of her hair.
“All of them?”
He hummed, rubbing his chin, and resting his arm on the armrest.
“But I’ll be cold,” she complained, still rolling her hips around, yelping when Taeyong slipped his feet away, leaving her unsatisfied.
“I don’t really care. Undress, now.”
No more words of complaint came out of her lips as she swiftly pulled up her sweater — Yuta’s sweater — before her hands moved to pull out of the way the skirt that was already half rolled up on her ass anyway, and then the panties met the same fate.
“Keep your socks on,” he said, stopping her from reaching down. “You look good in them. Move the mirror, wanna look at you as you get off on me that desperately.”
Shame set her body on fire but she still crawled toward the standing mirror and angled so he could see her in the reflection.
“You’re so pretty when you crawl, you know?” He whispered, biting his lips, hungry eyes following her get back between his legs. “But you look even better buried deep between my legs.”
He groaned when her lips wrapped around him again, throwing his head against the chair before he looked down, grabbing her head with a firm hold.
“Gonna use that pretty mouth until I come,” he moaned, hips picking up the fast speed of before, ass lifting from the chair to aim better strokes, the lewd sounds of smacking and choking filling the four walls again. His eyes fell on the mirror, fixated on her ass grinding on his foot, the plump flesh bouncing up and down with every grind, feeling the sock get even wetter now that her panties weren’t getting in the way. His nails grazed her neck, shoving her down completely, her nose pressing against his lower stomach again, leaving no space to breathe, but this time his cock throbbed inside her, ass clenching and balls tightening as his orgasm hit, filling her mouth with so much cum she felt like choking on it, too concentrated on his pleasure to even keep grinding on him.
When Taeyong pulled out she coughed, cleaning her face and pouting in disappointment at another ruined orgasm.
“Clean yourself with Yuta’s sweater and then take my clean shirt,” he said after kissing her, fixing his clothes and running a hand in his hair. “You can stay here next to me.” He pointed at the floor and she giggled, feeling a bit of shame creep up but still got up to throw Yuta’s stained sweater in the laundry, hoping to don’t meet anybody on the way out — or maybe yes, since she longed an orgasm. But before she could go out, Taeyong stopped her.
“You’ll ride me later, I’ll need it to let go of the stress they’re putting me through.”
She didn’t expect Jaehyun to last that long, especially since the others never stopped teasing her and fucking her after the first time — the whole thing prolonged more than just the weekend, obviously. The only free time she got was when she was working and had the silver bracelet off, which was on at the first break, and pretty much anytime she even went downstairs to drink some water, praying that whoever was home was going to make her waste some time. And when her boyfriends weren’t at work it went smoothly, exactly how she wanted.
They couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Even when they weren’t fucking her, they were so touchy, cupping, squeezing, and pulling her body just for fun.
And she couldn’t quite get why Jaehyun still didn’t make a move. He rarely resisted her when they weren’t doing this, so why was he holding back now?
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Johnny asked after leaving a peck on her lips. They were all ready for bed, Yuta and Taeyong already disappeared upstairs, probably to watch a movie they wouldn’t have finished, fast asleep before even reaching half of it.
Jade hummed, kissing him again. “Yeah, I’m not tired, I’ll wait for Jaehyun up.”
“Fine, night.”
She glanced at the clock, it was quite late, and even if Jaehyun warned he had an unforeseen and would’ve come home later than usual, she couldn’t help but be worried. It was almost midnight and he still wasn’t home, yet.
Jaehyun didn’t want that to be the first time either, it wasn’t that he was waiting, it was that he was never home, and when he was, he was too tired to barely do vital things like eating and cleaning himself that sex was the last thing that crossed his mind.
But that night was the last straw. He was so tired that he was mad, he had so much pent-up stress he felt he could explode and he probably would’ve taken it off of something else if she was sleeping, maybe a quick jack-off under the burning hot shower, but when he reached his bedroom and saw her there, silver bracelet visible on her wrist, and only his white shirt on, he lost it.
Jade was giving him her back, and she didn’t even notice him, too concentrated on her phone, mumbling curses while she texted him to ask where the hell he was, seriously scared for him until she started being afraid for herself when one hand wrapped around her mouth and another on her waist, lifting her up.
She let out a strangled scream, kicking her legs in the air until she finally heard that familiar voice. “It’s me.”
“You scared me,” she whispered when his hand moved away and she could breathe again. “I was worried for —”
“Just shut up,” he ordered, lying her on the bed not so delicately. “I need you.” She was a bit taken aback, not that he didn’t usually like rough stuff but she was still in her paranoid worried girlfriend state and was more concerned if something bad happened rather than focusing on what was finally happening. “I love when you wear my shirts, they look so good on you,” he groaned, running his hands over her body, squeezing the soft flesh. “Wanna fuck you in it,” he leaned down, kissing her hard, groaning when her hands reached for his hair. She mistook it for a pleasured groan but she got he was annoyed as soon as he removed his tie and wrapped her wrists around the bedrest.
Oh, he was pissed.
But something about that was already making her dripping wet, her heart pumping loudly in her chest with excitement. His furrowed concentrated face, his dark eyes, and the greediness in which his hands were touching her, all reminded her of their first fucks together, when they hated each other and reversed all their hatred in the sex. How much she missed them, so raw and needy. But now it was similar, sure, he didn’t hate her anymore, but she felt like thanking whatever thing was driving him crazy right now, she could’ve saved the worried-sick-girlfriend-talks for later.
When he spread her legs open like butterfly’s wigs, she moaned, her lower body exposed to the cold air and his burning eyes.
“Is that a plug, baby?” He asked, pushing two fingers against the head of the toy coming out of her rim. “Oh, how did you know I wanted to fuck your ass tonight?”
Well, if you paid any attention to me in the last few days you would know I’m wearing it for some time now, she thought but she kept that in her mind. Just like she kept in her mind how excited she was that he was going to fuck her ass. The others were always way too reluctant to do it even if they liked it, but they didn’t love it as she and Jaehyun did. And yes, nobody of her boyfriend fucked her ass like him; no fear, no intention of being too careful, knowing she could take it.
“Maybe we are connected, or maybe your little brain knew I would’ve had zero patient to prep you,” Jaehyun whispered, watching her body react to those words. No, he would’ve never fucked her without prepping her, but he needed to send across the message of how desperate he was to have her. And either way, she liked it, even if she was letting out zero words like he ordered. He could see the cum oozing out of her cunt and meeting the toy. “Dripping already,” he teased, pushing two fingers inside her, before tsking, “how many times did they fuck you today, uh?”
She shook her head, pretending nothing had happened. Blatantly lying as if before dinner they didn’t have a threesome while Taeyong watched in a corner — unlike what he believed, she saw him.
“They always use your pretty pussy but never your tight ass, right? Maybe we should give her a rest and leave you gaping from another hole.”
Jade nodded, eyes glistening in excitement.
“I know, love, I know. You love getting your ass destroyed, can’t wait to make your dreams come true.” His fingers pulled out, wiping them swiftly on her leg before they fumbled with his clothes. When he came back to the bed he pulled the plug out, admiring how stretched out she was already. He tapped her lips with his fingers, and she immediately opened up. “Good girl, suck them well so I can lube my cock. That’s all your getting tonight, I hope you poured enough inside before.”
She nodded, messily sucking the two fingers to coat them with spit, not even caring if it hurt a bit more when he pushed in without more lube. Jaehyun pulled out with a loud pop before wrapping the same hand on his cock, wetting it with her saliva and the pre-cum that already dripped out of his tip. He didn’t ask if she was ready, he knew she was, he only spread her legs and pushed inside. This time she couldn’t hold in the scream of pleasure, head rolling back and eyes squeezing shut while her jaw tensed up.
“Fuck, feel so good, baby,” he groaned, his hips were still for a while, just the time to place her ankles on his shoulders and start moving right away. “Wanted this for so long.”
Yeah, me too, she thought but that only crossed her mind while she let go to pleasure, hips rolling against him as a spontaneous response, begging him to fuck her even harder. And Jaehyun did, hands moving to grip her waist, letting her keep her legs in place, and bouncing her against him with forceful strokes. She tried to conceal the moans but it was impossible, it felt too good and she needed it so much she felt so close to coming even if he barely just started. She didn’t know if it was for the several orgasms of a few hours before, maybe she was ovulating, or probably it had just been too long since she had been fucked like that, whatever it was, she couldn’t hold it in.
“Oh, honey, came already? How desperate are you?” He groaned, slapping her ass. “Didn’t they fuck you enough?” He cooed, tilting his head, hissing in a curse when she squeezed him more, and more cum dripped out of her cunt. “They didn’t?” He mimicked her when she shook her head. “Insatiable, aren’t you? Need to be fucked so badly that you offered — fuck — for us to take any time and any place as if you weren’t crawling on your knees anyway.”
“Please,” she whimpered, struggling against the tie, trying to break free from it. Jaehyun only chuckled gutturally watching her struggle.
“Keep struggling, love. If you want to mark your wrist you’re doing an amazing job,” he mocked, smirking.
Jade huffed, throwing her head back, and giving a few other tugs at the fabric before giving up.
“See,” he hummed, leaning down to bite her collarbone, “it’s so much easier when you listen.”
“But —”
“Shut up,” he ordered, cupping her chin before pushing two fingers into her mouth. “I told you I don’t want to listen, just let me fuck you like you wanted to.”
She hummed around his fingers, nodding her head before her eyes closed again, trying to don’t come for the second time before him, it would’ve been too embarrassing how easily she was coming that night. But Jaehyun knew her too well to don’t notice, and as much as he was focused on his pleasure he would’ve never lost the chance to tease her.
“Want to come again?”
She denied, moving her head side to side, doing so causing some spit to drip out of her lips.
“Lying to me, really? You’re making a mess between your legs, there’s so much cum and it’s not even mine.”
She sniffled, trying to take a bigger breath from her nose and don’t choke on his digits when he kept hitting right where she felt him the most.
“I’ll let you come, love. You know I always do,” he smirked when her eyes snapped open, shining with a hopeful light. “Later, once I’m done with you, maybe I’ll make you come again.”
“Please,” she mumbled, voice muffled by his fingers that kept moving into her mouth.
“No begging, this is not for you,” he groaned, pulling out of her mouth to grab her ankles and push them up almost bending her in half, both mentally thanking Taeyong for convincing her to take yoga classes with him, it always came in handy in the nastiest moments. “Don’t speak, don’t you dare let out a word, clear?”
She nodded, breath cut short anyway by the position and the pleasure cutting right into her brain.
His last thrusts were sloppier, with a less specific pattern, but not any less hard and breath-knocking. His low and ragged breaths came out of his mouth in puffs.
“’m not done with you,” he hummed, pulling out and swiftly freeing her before he quickly shifted her around, positioning her exactly how he wanted; ass up and face down. “Need to fuck you until I forget about everything else.”
She smiled, finding it cute how usually it was about her forgetting everything else. But her smile turned into a hazed-out grin as soon as his cock filled her again. She didn’t even try to hold the moans, Jaehyun was just too good and in this position, they both loved so much, he gave his best.
“Shit, you’re dripping all against my balls, fuck, can feel how wet you are with every — shit — thrusts against your cunt.”
“Feels good,” she whimpered, hoping he was going to let her talk, if she could talk back.
“’ Course it does,” he groaned, before slipping a hand around her front and pushing her up against him. Her head rolled back, meeting his shoulder and he smirked. “Love this better, don’t you?”
“Yes, fuck — fuck me harder, please.”
“Harder? Can you take it?”
She nodded, biting her lip, reaching forward to sink her nails into his forearm and hold herself onto something. Her back arched more as waves of pleasure ran through her body, Jaehyun was particularly loud that night, letting out groans and moans he usually kept inside, voice so hot and low it was getting to her head so easily. He sounded feral, pounding into her with harsh thrusts, their skins rubbing together, hips slamming against her ass adding to the lewd sounds of his cum squelching out of her with every move.
“Fuck me so well,” she cried out, letting her head hang forward, mouth agape, some drool dripping in a thread without her even realizing it.
Jaehyun groaned, eyes fixating on her ass, watching it bounce up against him, staring at his cock stretching her tight rim and pushing the cum outside while her moans played in his brain like a melody. Brain spinning with all the pleasure. It was everything he needed.
He let go of his hold, pushing her face down on the mattress while he swiftly adjusted, one knee planting at her left while his feet kept his body up on the other side, the position allowing him to pound into her faster and deeper, forcing her back in a deep arch.
She let out a whiny moan, eyes rolling in the back of her head, the white of her sclera the only thing Jaehyun could see as he stared down at her fucked out face.
“Look at you taking it like a cock-drunk doll, you live to be fucked however we want, don’t you?”
Jade could barely find the strength to move her neck in a nod of agreement, pussy clenching crazily around nothing, so much cum dripping out of her, adding to the mess of his, creating a pool on the sheets, clit throbbing as another orgasm menaced to ripple through her.
“That’s it,” he groaned, hips moving faster, he was barely pulling out, just enough to hit her right where he needed to make her tremble under him. “Come around my cock, come on.”
A long whine came out of her throat before her jaw tensed and her toes curled, chest heaving hard pressed between the mattress and Jaehyun’s hand keeping her in place. Some tears spilled out of her eyes as the second orgasm washed over her and Jaehyun at the same time, his thrusts coming to a stop while his cock rubbed in circles and throbbed inside her, coating her walls in white.
“Fuck,” he sighed, lowering his head and rubbing her hips in soothing movements before he pulled out and laid at her side.
“So, I guess today at work was stressful,” she chuckled when they both gained back some air, and Jaehyun chuckled, hiding in the crook of her neck.
“Tragic,” he whispered, before pulling away, brushing her hair back. “Nothing that you won’t fix, though.”
“Me and maybe a shower, you always make me sweat so much.”
Jaehyun chuckled, stretching before scooping her up to walk to the bathroom, “I have to make it up for all the times you don’t hit the gym with me.”
I really loved writing this since I missed them a lot, so I hope you liked reading it! Please support me by letting me know your opinion with a comment, a reblog (even if you don't want to comment on it, they help reach more people), or even an ask. ♡
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#nct fanfiction#johnny smut#taeyong smut#yuta smut#jaehyun smut#suh johnny smut#lee taeyong smut#nakamoto yuta smut#jeong jaehyun smut#nct poly#nct 127 smut#nct smut#smutmas#all's well that ends well to end up with you
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Translation of Book 1 “Para Forever” by Cellbit
For Forever,
Forever, I don’t even know how you’re seeing me right now.
If everything went well, things came off as so weird that you suspected my infiltration plan.
You’re very smart, I believe you did.
The past days have been a torture greater than I could’ve imagined.
What Cucurucho did with the chainsaw doesn’t even compare with the pain of having to fight and lie every day to the people I’m closest to.
Feeling the disappointment hurts.
But it was the only way.
The initial plan was to surprise you and Assholerucho at the trial, but the Vivo meme gave me the perfect opportunity to make a scene and make it look like I had a motive to fight.
Cucurucho doesn’t understand feelings and needs very well, so that should have been enough for it to believe it.
And it worked.
I’ve never been so alone, but seeing you take over leadership and fight so fiercely made me proud.
It’s all been way harder than I thought, but this was the only way for us to gather some real information. After all the effort, the fights, the puzzles, we have figured NOTHING about the Federation. Nothing.
I hope I can be there to explain it to you in person, but if you’re reading this book, something probably went wrong.
I was forces to do things that I would never do and to say things that I would never say.
And despite trying to make my lies see-through, despite trying to make you suspect them, in the end, my plan was still bad. And I know no one in this island will trust me ever again.
I burnt everything. But it was the only way.
I left a book for Richarlyson at the beginning of everything, I didn’t want him to be heartbroken, and maybe that was my biggest flaw.
But I was willing to sacrifice EVERYTHING to take this egg out of this island. Everything. And that’s what I did.
Tell Bad I’m sorry about the things I said about Dapper, tell Max I’m sorry about Sofia, and tell the french I’m sorry for the suspicions.
I’m sorry for what I did to your XP farm, I know how much you and Richas worked on it and every spawner I broke felt like a knife through my heart.
Honestly, I think they were already going to destroy it because it was SO cool… But they made ME destroy it… to test if I was really willing to do anything for the Federation.
Tomorrow is the day I officially become part of the Federation.
It’s my “entering process”
We’ll finally have new information. I’m VERY excited… and nervous
I did all of this for Richarlyson
I did all of this for Felps
I did all of this for the Order
I did all of this for you.
And I hope it was worth it.
Tell Bad, Max and Quackity. And tell Foolish that he’s a sweetheart.
I changed Sofia’s password to “Regret”
And if those motherfuckers from the Federation made the mistake of keeping me alive…
I’ll come back.
Eyes always open, Forever.
#cellbit#qsmp#qsmp translations#qsmp forever#forever player#quackity smp#quesadilla smp#richarlyson the egg#cucurucho#crisis bureau#osito bimbo#the federation qsmp#tazercraft#felps
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Chapter three. Chapter five
CHAPTER FOUR
⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️WARNING!!! THIS BOOK WILL CONTAIN MATURE THEMES AND VIOLENCE PLEASE LEAVE IF IT WILL MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. I DO NOT NEED THIS BOOK TO BE REPORTED . YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.( Mentions of suicide, bullying, blood/torture ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️( This book is going to have more matured themes compared to my others, from smut scenes to non-con, lactation, drugging, hypnosis, abuse of power and over obsessiveness.
¶•¶•¶•¶•¶•¶•¶•¶•¶•¶•¶•¶
‡ One month earlier ‡
The first week after M/N had ' miraculously ' recovered he had to deal with his cousin stuck by his side constantly.
If he wanted to open the windows? " No. Your still to weak to be getting up. I'll do it "
Wanted to read a book ?
" No. You need to be resting, not filling your head with more load. The gods this child. "
Wanted to pour himself a cup of tea?
" Are you crazy?!! What if your hand goes limp and you pour hot leaf water on yourself! "
If he wanted to use the bathroom.
" I'm coming with you. Now don't give me that your embarrassed crap. I washed your ass before and ain't nothing changed. "
When he opened his eyes from a small nap?
There she was sleeping by his side, her hands clasped desperately around his bony fingers.
Any normal person would have found it mildly annoying and would have blown up by now, but the omegan male didn't.
Because everytime Aria scolded him he would catch a glimpse of relief and fear in her golden hues. Relief that he had managed to overcome the death that countless doctors had told her would eventually happen. A death that almost everyone seemed to be praying for. A death that would shatter her completely. He had woken up by some miracle and was recovering rapidly In just the few days he had been awake. The thought made her heart overflow with joy, but then a fear came to her mind.
What if it was all just a hoax ?
Like in the chatters she heard from other noble ladies or the stories she had read in her medical journals.
On the brink of death the victim would suddenly bounce back to full health, as if nothing was ever wrong to begin with. They would go back to their normal activities with a smile and for a moment it would be ike they had miraculously made a full recovery, that luck was on their side. They would be able to happily live their lives to the absolute fullest. Be able to spend time and create happy memories with their family and loved ones.
Only to wind up dead.
Simply gone like they had never stood up from their death beds. The healthy glow they had to them would disappear without a trace as their corpse laid there cold and pale.
And the time of recovery to when death came for it's bounty varied. From a few hours, to days, weeks, or even a month.
Aria felt the joy go cold like a steel blade as it sunk itself into her heart.
What if her baby cousin was a case like that? A spontaneous miracle that would turn to a mournful loss.
The thought scared her so much that she couldn't bring herself to leave the s/c man's side, what if she came back and all she found was his lifeless corpse?
It wasn't until the second weak and with presistent coaxing from the younger that she finally calmed down a bit. She wasn't as glued to his side, but any grunt of discomfort had her fussing over him all over again.
M/N had to stand his ground after that. Not that he hated the constant attention he was getting. No in fact it was the complete opposite. He absolutely loved being cuddled by the older omega. Whether it was because he had always adored Aria or he was completely touched starved he couldn't exactly tell, but he had to put an end to it.
All of her constant attention was paying off on him. He could walk on his own now with out much support, his flesh didn't look as if it was painted to his skeleton anymore as she had been stuffing him with food and his phermones were staring to perk up again, the grimy smell of sweat and boiled herbs leaving as his sweet scent of honey and peaches started to come back slowly. He was making a speedy recovery under her care. But her attention had been focused only on the h/c male as she had been neglecting herself.
Her expression had certainly brightened up since he woke up, but that was it. The bags under her eyes had grown darker, her usually rich chocolate colour looked like it was fading, her cheekbones were showing more and her scent was becoming weaker.
It brought an argument between the two of them. Aria screaming at him that she needed to take care of him and M/N refusing because she wouldn't take care of herself. Their back and forth banter was exhausting and at one point had led into both omegas baring their fangs at each other.
The petite male's actually growling at her shocked Aria more than she thought it would.
The M/N she knew was always docile. Never spoke up against other people's decision and always went along with what people chose for him. He never challenged anyone on a matter even if he had the power to do so as the son of a duke and as the then emperor. It was why he never changed his style of those ridiculous clothes he had been made to wear. It was the decision of the late Emperor and her baby cousin despite knowing what it would do to his social life if he wore them agreed. And he was the only one who had to bare all the harsh words and shame that came along with it. She had tried to pressure him to stand up for himself, because his dick of a husband was clearly not going to and he would always nod his head that he would. The man never did.
Yet here he was. His eyes narrowed , his normally soft e/c hues darkened with an anger that she had never seen before, his lips pulled back to reveal a snarl as he bared his small fangs at her,a growl rumbling deep in his chest as he stared the raven haired women down.
The silence between the two of them was deafening as neither wanted to back down, but unexpectedly Aria laughed.
It started as a soft giggle, then a chuckle before erupting into a full blown laughter catching the s/c male off guard. The tense atmosphere died down as the dark haired woman moved forward to place a hand on his head ruffling his soft locks and gaining a whine from him.
" This is what I was saying. Stand up for yourself from now on okay? You shouldn't be backing down to anyone " she said those words with a proud smile on her face and the other couldn't help but laugh as well, nodding in understatement.
Just like that Aria's mind became at rest. There was still the fear hidden deep within her, rearing it's ugly head every once in a while, but she always managed to force it back down. She wouldn't let it win.
M/N wouldn't say he enjoyed his new found alone time. He missed being cuddled and having his every need been taken care of, but Aria had finally started taking proper care of herself and he loved watching the sparkle and fierceness come back to her gold hues, her hair becoming silky than it had ever been, her beautiful chocolate coloured skin glowing in richness. Her body getting curvy in all the right places as she filled in nicely, her clothes becoming to snug to on her and showing off her new voluptuous from. Her change in appearance could even be considered drastic, just like he's sudden change. They both looked like completely different people. Like Aria had put it.
They had finally blossomed.
If it had been before, when the h/c male had looked at the world differently, he would have praised the god for finally answering his prayers. For giving him a desirable body so he would be able to win Marrav over ( completely disregarding the fact that he might have inherited it from his mother) he would have probably made a donation to the temple to show his faith and greatfulness and being merciful to him and his mother figure. But as he held a beautifully decorated glowing red ruby like in his hands he knew otherwise.
The gem was oval like in shape and it was the size of his palm. It was surrounded by big milky white pearls and two gold chip like pieces at the pointed ends. Whenever he looked inside he could see soft colours of blue, lavender, green, orange, silver, white and gold swirling around, but the thing that stood out amongst all this was the golden cross embedded in the middle. Other than it was a pretty design the symbol reminded him of the crazed deity that had given him comfort in that dark endless abyss. In fact if he turned it sideways, it reminded him of the creature's eye staring right at him, how the gem shone in the sunlight creeping through his open curtains reminded him of the sadistic gleam in their eyes, it didn't help that at times the cross itself seemed to glow and move ever so slightly away from the center, further solidifying his theory.
Apart from how pretty it looked. It was powerful.
It took about half an hour of staring at the thing for him to figure out the colours floating inside the gem's core were månå streams.
RAW PURE MÅNÅ STREAMS!
They were all just swimming around in it, holding different månå affinities, both normal earthly månå and spiritual
Blue - Water.
Orange - Fire.
Green - Earth.
Silver - Wind.
Lavender - Healing.
Gold - Holy light.
White - The ability to merge other månå elements together.
A rare månå affinity that was said to only be a rumour. An ability so strong that the mere name of it caused seasoned warriors and magicians from all races to shiver in fear.
He had it.
He noticed bits of black floating around as well, but he decided to ignore that.
M/N didn't even know what to do with it at first. All this power was literally in the palm of his hand.
He could literally decided to over throw the Emperor and take the kingdom for himself and nobody would be able to stop him.
But he couldn't.
Because he didn't know how to use the damn thing!
There weren't any ancient inscriptions on it like with all those long forgotten swords from the ancient Empire. The books he had Aria get for him that held knowledge of månå stone and gems also proved to be useless, nothing in them even mentioning about that a gem that had different types of månå elements flowing through it, they usually focused on only one particular element.
Nothing like the monstrosity he held in his hands. So he was back to square zero literally have no leads on what to do.
It vexed.
Without knowing how to use it the gem was nothing more than useless shiny rock. He had to drop it inside his drawer to look away from it, because he feared the anger boiling on him would make him throw the gem at the wall of his room and shatter it. He reluctantly brought it back out to stare at it.
Longingly eyes watching, staring into it's surface and it felt as if the cross was staring stare into his soul. The soft glow of it felt like it was mocking him.
After that it was hard not to feel helpless for a few minutes. How could he not?
Apart from the infinite possibilities it held the omega had been happy for a small moment. Happy that he would finally be able to use månå for the first time since his was closed off when he was only a pup.
He bit his bottom lip softly as an attempt to stop the tears brimming at the corner of his eyes.
He could remember being chained in the center of a magic circle, high council members of the Temple surrounding him as they shouted out chants. He could still remember the burning pain in his veins as they forcibly drained every bit of his månå reserve. Only leaving just a small amount. Enough for him to survive, but he would never be able to draw out månå again, never be able to use magic. They had taken that away from him, taken his chance of ever having a promising future, simply because they were afraid of what he could become.
They were scared of something that could possibly threaten their high positions in power, so they stole the future of a young child and condemned him to a life of suffering and rejection.
He didn't notice when the soft nibble on his bottom lip turned to a harsh bite , his fangs digging into the soft skin and drawing blood. He only noticed when the gem began to rattle softly in his grip, shining a soft bright red color, the cross now gone from it's original position instead ' looking ' straight at him- No. Not at him. It was focused on the blood that had started dripping down his chin. The emotion that seemed to be swirling in it caught the s/c omega's attention. He knew it to well after all.
It was desperation.
It made a haughty smirk appear on his blood stained lips, the helpless look from before gone as if it was never there. Looks like he finally got a response.
He brought the jewel closer to his lips watching how the cross began to shake feverishly it's shine getting brighter as it neared the h/c male's wounded lips, only for the omega to pull away. An amused look showing in his e/c hues as the jewel seemed to glare at him.
" Awww don't glare at me like that. You seemed to be enjoying yourself when you watching me look all pitiful, so it's only fair I have some fun too~ " the man said coyly a laugh escaping his lips as the jewel seemed to growl in protest. The pleased look on his face quickly vanished and an unreadable expression took place as he brought the object to his face turning it sideways to stare right into the huge ' eye '.
" I know who you are, so I don't need to prod you for that. Why you followed me here I don't know nor do I care. I just want you to lend me your power ". A serious expression took place on the s/c man's face as he stared at the object waiting to see it's reaction. What he got was the jewel glowing a dark red almost blinding him and he had to shut his eyes close to keep his vision intact, when the glow calmed down the h/c man opened his eyes a frown tugging on his blood stained lips. " I'll take that as a 'No ' " he mumbled bringing his free hand to rub his temples, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips, in response to his comment the cross shoke around.
Waving his free hand in surrender M/N spoke up again.
" Fine, fine. I guess a came on a little too cocky on that demand " the omega started softly ignoring the look the 'eye ' threw at him. " So what about this? We make a deal. Help each other with our goals.... " The petite male started only continuing when the object was staring directly at him.
" Let's be honest if you were to appear to anyone else you would either be purge as a demonic entity because of the dark månå flowing off you, or you would be found by a greedy noble who would never give you what you want. That's why you came to me isn't it ? " M/N took it's silence as a yes .
" I can help you with want you, but it will be for a price of course. You already know what I want. So what is your desire? I will do what I can in my power to make sure you attain it as long as I will be rewarded. " The omega stated firmly waiting for the gem to respond in anyway it could.
As long as he would be able to get his revenge it didn't matter what it would take. He would do it.
" I WaNT tO Be A gOd AGAIN "
The sudden voice spooked the petite male and he almost dropped the jewel in shock. His heart beating rapidly in his chest, his eyes widening as he recognized it.
It was the same one from the void
As his heart calmed down, it took a few second for his mind to process the words before they finally sunk in.
A god? Really? He hadn't been expecting to hear that.
" I kNEw iT wOUld Be A feAt TO IMPossIbLE- "
The voices started again only to be cut off by a soft giggle coming from the h/c man, then a chuckle, before it became a full on crazed laughter from the human.
" A god?! Hah! Never would I have expected to hear that " M/N managed to force out between laughs as he wiped a stray tear that had rolled down his cheeks.
Amused e/c eyes stared straight into the ' eye ' the smirk returning to his bloody lips. " If a god is what you want to become then so shall it be. You only need over a hundred loyal followers to be recognized as one. If you lend me your power I can make it happen, so won't you trust me and make a contract ? "
The being inside the gem couldn't help but have second thoughts as it stared at the man, but seeing the crazed and determined look behind his e/c eyes it couldn't help but smirk.
" FinE~ It's A DEaL . A bIT OF BlOoD WILL BInD uS ToGeTHeR As ONE~ "
The voice cooed out and M/N's smirk grew bigger. Bringing the jewel to his lips he placed a soft kiss on it smearing the blood on his lips on it.
At first nothing happened, then his body was enveloped in a red light and it felt lighting was passing through his veins. As quick as it started it ended. The gem in his hand glowed for a brief moment before it went dim, shakily the petite male managed to untangle himself from his sheets, his feet hitting the cold floor as he made his way to the full length body mirror at the farthest corner of his room.
The first thing he noticed about his appearance were his now orange coloured cat like eyes, the next was the wound on his lips was completely healed , then the next were the golden lines running through his body. From his face to his arms , chest, stomach, legs , they were everywhere glowing slightly everyone once in a while.
" Remember what you promised me. "
The voice ringing in his head snapped him out of his thoughts. " If you fail to keep to your promise I'll take your measly soul for compensation " it warned ,but the omega simply brushed it off. " Oh don't worry I won't " his voice had a sickly sweet ring to it as he still stared at his strange new appearance, snapping his fingers as a test and he watched his appearance fade back to his original look.
" In fact. I have the perfect candidate to be your first follower " the h/c male hummed out in a sing song tone as he made his way back to the bed, not wanting Aria to find him out of bed lest he received another scolding. " I just need to break his moral first and that's where I need your power " his words caught the beings attention. " You already want to start using månå in this weak state of yours ? " It asked bewilderment laced in it's voice making the h/c man scowl. " I know I'm weak, no need to rub it in " he muttered ignoring the laughter coming from the being " And he's not worthy to waste any power on. I just want to you to spread a rumour. Can you do that ? ". It was the voice turn to scoff. " Of course I can. What do you take me for. But why a baseless rumor ? " It asked curious to the the petite male's plan.
" Because people love to talk that's why "
he replied, gazing out the window with a soft smile on his plump lips. " Don't you know? Even the smallest rumor can be the down fall of a mighty empire. Rumors are a poison, whether there true or not is none of peoples concern. They just want to be able to mock others so they can feel better about themselves."
The h/c man explained his smile almost looking sinister.
" Especially if they think that someone is better than them. "
#omegaverse#mc#nobility#omega male reader#dearly detested#leon#x omega male reader#aria#x male reader
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Poast about the "fucking some guy" saga behind the scenes because I can't shut up about it :]
The idea of this series started as just some Maul porn (possibly as a kinda flashback in what became They finally fuck each other this time) where he fucks a guy. Originally i was thinking of going with a twi'lek because they're what we see as sex workers the most in canon, and also the idea of them having two dicks (to match the two headtails) entertains me
As mentioned before, the base of They finally fuck each other this time is actually a wip I've had for Months and didn't know where to go with
There was a scene in the wip where Obi-Wan gives Maul a patdown to check if he's really unarmed, but it was not homoerotic enough and felt kinda out of place and out of character so I cut it
(There were also supposed to be more scenes with Bo-Katan, but once again. did not fit well enough.)
There was gonna be a scene like right after they fuck where Obi-Wan gets a call from the Jedi Council because he's been gone and out of contact for Hours so of course they're worried. and he's like. "oh don't worry I was just having a conversation with a slightly paranoid possible new ally. nothing much going on :) " [<- his neck is visibly covered in hickeys and bite marks]
[yoda voice] some bacta you need. terrible post coital manners your new friend has.
The original original idea continues well after where I ended the series, and involved Maul being imprisoned after Bo-Katan gets the throne except he's put in like. a ray-shielded apartment. and Obi-Wan has to live with him. because there's no way simple technology can keep a Force user imprisoned so they should have a jedi guard him, and Bo-Katan asked him so nicely, how could he possibly refuse to submit to the torture of living a domestic life with his nemesis with benefits.
And from then on it's all just. silly gay slice of life.
Like.
Very awkward jedi visits because everyone wants to see how Obi-Wan is doing but they're all distrustful of Maul even though he's just. vibing in his corner. sipping tea or reading a book. ignoring everyone staring at him.
VERY awkward Anakin and Padmé visit because he Senses she is pregnant and the children (he can feel it's twins) are Force-sensitive and he's like. well that's Interesting [<- doing his best not to bring up the topic of fucking jedi]
(the visit slowly turns into talking about the merits of leaving the Jedi Order for love and how that's totally fine and not a betrayal of one's morals and if someone wanted to stop being a jedi to go marry a senator and become a father that would be totally fine Anakin we would all be so happy for you. hypothetically.)
A mandalorian tries to "jailbreak" Maul but he's like. I'm fine where I am, so no thank you. and this probably happens like once a month.
Arguing about tea (it's like a hobby for them) (force help anyone who visits them during these arguments, they WILL force people to take sides)
And more!
#hm i should make an original post tag#hm i should make an original writing tag#obimaul#the duel took like a week to happen so obi-wan had time to go back and tell the jedi council what maul told him don't worry#he did not forget the main reason why maul kidnapped him. and neither did i. i just didn't know where to fit it in the post#palpatine is either arrested (and executed) or on the run. but either way he's definitely exposed#and the jedi can finally go back to their real job (pacifying the galaxy)#and obi-wan can finally get a fucking break#i loooove imagining silly little neverending scenarios it's like a whole series in my head. full of filler episodes.#which is why i would never be able to make the original idea a thing#because it's. ever-growing.#one day i'm imagining the anidala visit. the other i'm imagining barriss visiting and asking maul so many questions#like do your tattoos mean anything. what was your family like. are your eyes naturally yellow or do you make them like that on purpose.#and obi-wan being like. barriss don't be rude!! [<- has been wanting to ask all that stuff for ages but never had the courage]#it's fun to think about but it's not something that can be turned into a fic
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Tear you Apart - Chapter 2
Hello my loves! I’m back with my first post of the year! This one wasn’t supposed to be the first post of the year, but here we are. I have lots of fics planned for the coming months so keep an eye out!! Before we get into this chapter I would like to take a second to tell you that this fic deals heavily with trauma, emotional abuse and the effects that come with that. So if this isn’t your thing, please keep the above in mind.
Take care darlings!
Content warnings: Trauma, coercion, A rather nasty bite scene, the Spawn in this isn’t our mans Astarion (He is making an appearance soon, I promise!).
Word Count: 2,648
Na-Mara’s Pov
While she had been afforded comfortable lodgings by her ever generous master, her captor, whose name she came to know was Fintos, most of her time during the day was filled with seeing that his needs were met. She did so with well disguised chagrin; he couldn’t know of her true intent in letting him do the things he did. The rest of her free time, which wasn’t usually much, was spent reading or resting from the previous night’s activities.
It became her nightly routine to be paraded about the establishment like a prized show horse, to entertain whomever her master wished her to. By then, the night’s intended target would be begging her for a chance to see what other services her body could provide. Na-Mara was never allowed to refuse and they never declined.
That brought her to where she was now, lounging scantily clad across the deep purple settee in her master’s office reading a book. While it was near unbearable to be around him, she found an odd sense of satisfaction bubble within her whenever he called on her; his infatuation with her only made her job easier.
Her plan was to allow him to fall for her, to make him think that she was eating from the palm of his hand. She would not allow herself to forget his transgressions against her, she would use it as a driving force to get what she wanted: her pelt back. She would do what she needed, and if that meant playing the role set out for her, then so be it, her pride be damned.
The last few months had been torturous, always pandering to the wants and whims of others and never herself, she was in a near constant state of exhaustion. Though quiet moments like this allowed her a momentary reprieve, to allow her mind to drift off to a kinder place. A place where a dashing prince would sweep her off her feet and take her far away from here, just like in the stories her master would read aloud to her.
She would often think of home in these quiet moments, reminiscing on how salt and sand would cling to her skin after laying on a beach all day; or how divine tearing apart a fresh kill felt. Her life was nothing like that, not anymore at least. There would be no dashing prince that would rescue her nor a fairytale wedding to celebrate; the only way she saw this ending was in blood. Either Fintos’ or her own, she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t desperate to find out - not if her current plan was to work.
—
She had been dressed in silver chains adorned with gems and pearls that glittered and shone in the setting sun of the late afternoon. Two large slits sat high in the dress, exposing the entirety of each of her legs. The softness of where her legs met her torso on display, the chains connecting the front and back of the dress felt so thin that she was sure they would break if her pace was more than a saunter. Her hair was braided away from her face, small pieces too short to be neatly tucked away intricately formed into waves on her temples.
Dressing in attire like this had become part of her daily routine; she would bathe and dry herself and then be subject to hours of looking at herself in a lookingglass. Though by the time her ‘helpers’ - other unfortunate souls Fintos had abducted and then forced into servitude - were done, she hardly looked like herself.
Na-Mara felt that was easier in a way, it separated her from what she had to force herself through each night; the woman being paraded around night after night wasn’t her - but a caricature. It was easy once she got the hang of it, her job was to pander to the patrons - whatever that was, singing to small groups or entertaining them with small parlour tricks. All to make them feel comfortable; comfortable enough to loosen their purses, and their tongues. But nothing worked as well as listening to them, other than using her body, of course.
The simple fact of the matter was that drunks talked a lot, and the more they consumed - the more their tongues wagged. She would listen to whatever they had to say, more often than not they would offload their burdens onto a pretty thing like her without much pushing. Most of the time all it took was a brush of her slender fingers across their chest and it was over before it even began; it was all too easy.
Na-Mara’s first target of the evening was a pretty young woman with hair that reminded her of the setting sun, deep orange woven with gold and red. She was dressed beautifully, almost too nicely for the establishment; she wanted people to know she was wealthy. With her velvet dress in a shade of green so deep it looked black under the dim light, a sage green chemise peeked through the lacing of her sleeves. She was dripping in gold, gold bands and shiny gems adorning each of her fingers, she wore several necklaces layered around her neck; a silk ribbon choker, followed by a longer chain with a diamond encrusted emerald pendant.
Despite her frivolous fashion sense, she proved to be quite shy; all fluttering lashes and tinted cheeks each time Na-Mara smiled in her direction. It was quite the welcome change of pace, it was nice to not have people tripping over one another vying for her attention. Na-Mara waved her over with a delicate hand gesture, a sense of satisfaction bubbling in her stomach as the starry eyed woman jumped at the chance to bask in her light.
“You seemed lonely over there by yourself, I thought you might benefit from some company that isn’t a man,” Na-Mara smiled as the young woman spoke, sidling up to her. Na-mara signalled the barkeep for two glasses of red - the expensive stuff, her master was paying afterall.
“I suppose you’re right. Terribly dull creatures men are, once you’ve met one; you’ve met them all,” she half joked as two glasses of wine were placed in front of them. Na-Mara took the fine crystal into her hand, sipping the liquid inside - if there was one thing she had grown fond of while on land, it was wine.
The woman blushed a pretty shade of pink, looking down to the red wood of the bar before following Na-Mara’s lead and taking a sip of her drink. She was a pretty woman, round faced with beautiful blue eyes that looked at her through dark lashes, freckles dusted her entire face - each one of them a love letter from the sun. It almost made her feel bad, it truly was a pity that Na-Mara had a job to do.
She followed her routine to the letter; she was kind and inviting, nodding and smiling in encouragement watching as the woman in front of her became more dishevelled. Her words had begun to slur quite some time ago, on her third glass of wine while Na-Mara had still been sipping on her first. She had finally put a stop to her master's sick game when the poor woman could no longer stand straight.
“Goodness, are you alright?” she asked, worry lacing her voice. She wrapped her arm around her waist, tight enough to steer her, but not tight enough to cause alarm.
The woman laughed heartily. “Oh I am fine! One too many glasses is all,” she smiled, the pink tint on her skin darkening. Na-Mara laughed lightly, forgetting for a moment that she was the cause of this, she was the harbinger of this woman's death.
“Well, let’s get you some place where you can relax for a moment, shall we?” she asked, leading her down a secluded hallway towards where her captors' lackeys would no doubt be waiting to wring whatever information out of her they could.
No sooner had she delivered one woman to her demise, she was scooped up into the arms of her captor - he had another job for her. It wasn’t another target, simply a request from a patron with a rather peculiar appetite.
Na-Mara’s blood ran cold as she looked pleadingly at Fintos to take back the order, he only urged her forwards, his dark brows raised expectantly. He tipped her chin towards him, his face dipping to hers, “You will do this pet, remember our deal,” he chided, his breath fanning across her face, the bond tugging between them. She nodded hesitantly, he was right, they had a deal.
Her breath shook as she took a moment to compose herself, the air around her thick with incense becoming stuck in her throat, nearly choking her. The fear on her face was replaced with an easy smile as she sauntered forward, jewels and delicately strung pearls that hung from her outfit glinting in the candlelight. She was a delicious sight, she had no doubt, her dress made from fine silver chains doing nothing to hide the peaks and valleys of her body.
Her new client - a vampire spawn, had requested to feed on her; to see if she tasted as sweet as she looked, according to her master. A disgusted shiver danced across her spine as she made her way to him, he sat in a plush armchair with a crystal glass filled with a thick red liquid, she hoped was wine.
He smirked over his glass at her, taking a sip of the dark liquid before shifting in the chair. Her eyes narrowed into a sultry stare, one that she had honed into a weapon, her supple body her armour in which she wore into battle each night. And with the power that both provided, she could bring any man to their knees, singing praises and prayers alike.
He had pulled Na-Mara into his lap unceremoniously, a surprised squeak leaving her lips as her back collided with his chest. His fingers laced tightly into the bottom of her braid, hair pinching and pulling painfully as she tried to turn her head to meet his gaze. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, like the wings of a bird trapped in a gilded cage. All she could think about was how much she didn’t want this, and how much it would hurt, of that she had no doubt.
Though she had no choice but to push through, to let the fear course through her, to let it turn her whole being bitter. She hoped that she tasted like rot when she hit his tongue, she hoped that whatever sick pleasure he got from splaying her out like this - for all to see, turned to ash in his mouth. She hoped that it would make them all think twice before their calloused hands reached out to bruise.
His cold breath fanned out across the juncture where her shoulder met her neck, he was centimetres from her now. She could smell the distinct tang of blood on his breath - she wasn’t his first meal of the night, she prayed that he wouldn’t take more than he needed; and if he did, she hoped he at least would finish the job.
Na-Mara relaxed in his grip, allowing him to position her wherever he felt most comfortable.
She secluded herself into that sweet place in her mind, where neither pain nor sadness could lay their claws on her. Resigning herself to the fact that yet another piece of her would be torn from her, to live eternally in the body of another instead of being buried - at least one part of her would be free.
She felt his tongue slide across her pulse point, gauging the best place to sink his teeth into, she steeled her nerves; forcing herself to stop trembling in his grip. It took every ounce of her strength not to shy away from him, to not will the ground beneath her to open and swallow her whole. His teeth sank into her without warning, a choked cry falling from her lips as pain radiated from her neck. She could feel him pulling the blood from her body, his fangs pressing deep into her jugular.
The whole ordeal was over before it had truly begun, as a warm liquid splattered across her face and body. She was promptly pushed from the Spawns lap, she looked at him through bleary eyes trying to make sense of what just happened. His face was incandescent with rage - like he had been given the poor end of the bargain.
“She tastes like salt water and rotten flesh!” he hissed, gulping down the liquid in his glass, trying to rid himself of her rancid taste. She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation; he bit her, a creature born amidst the salt and sea - what did he expect her to taste of? Her captor was by the spawns side in seconds, smoothing the situation over by offering the neck of another one of his pretty little puppets, it seemed to quell the spawns temper slightly.
Her captor's quick action allowed for one of his other employees to scoop her up, and lead her upstairs to her chambers. A moon toned Drow woman with hair the colour of spun silver and a voice that reminded her of her home, it was soft and sweet like summer rain. She held Na-Mara close to her chest as they walked, not caring about the blood that was staining her dark attire.
It took for her to sit in front of her mirror to realise that the warm liquid spat on her had, in fact, been blood - her blood. She scrunched her nose in disgust before reaching for the pitcher and basin by the vanity, a rough linen cloth hanging from the bowl's edge. Only to have the cloth gently taken from her hands, each speck of blood dabbed away with kindness she had not known for many months.
Na-Mara found herself tearing up as she stared at the puncture wound in the mirror, two ugly caverns forcefully torn into her flesh. The young Drow laid a soft hand on her cheek, thumb tracing her cheek bone as she made eye contact with her in the mirror. “Will it scar?” Na-Mara asked, her voice sounding smaller than it ever has.
She nodded in response, “It will,” she started, “But do not let its pain darken your heart, there is so much sweetness in the world; so much left to keep fighting for.”
Na-Mara bit the inside of her cheek, how could she not let it darken her heart? She had been taken from all she has ever known and loved, forced into servitude and made to suffer a new horror each night. She wanted to scream until her voice gave in, until her throat and lungs were bloody and raw, to expel each moment of humiliation and pain she endured. But she couldn’t, it would jeopardise everything she was working towards, but she could manage to articulate some of it."It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We bear no scars for happiness, we learn so little from kindness."
The Drow, whose name she had learned was Nym, left shortly after to return to her clients down stairs. And when she was certain that nobody would bother her for the rest of the night, she poured more water into the basin and scrubbed herself raw. And then she did it again, she still felt dirty, Na-Mara could still feel his hands on her, could still hear that starry eyed woman’s laughter ringing in her ears, she wanted to peel off her skin and set it ablaze.
She was so tired.
A big thank you to @arcielee for beta reading for me and @azperja for sitting through countless snippets of this, I appreciate you both so much!
Reblogs are greatly appreciated! it really helps get my work out there!
#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion romance#astarion x female reader#baldurs gate 3 fanfic#baldurs gate astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x oc#astarion x reader#baldurs gate 3#dark fic#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#dark content#baldurs gate
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Waking Up - Ch 13
AO3 FFN Beginning of story | Previous Chapter
chapter word count 16014
Chapter warnings at end of chapter
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Much thanks to my amazing and lovely beta reader @abradystrix for helping with this chapter!
Sorry for the delay- my dudes my life has been absolutely bonkers- hurt back, lead in the house, have to clean said lead (massive undertaking of many months!), got ill, developed persistent bronchitis, all the meds I was on gave me kidney stones... and I was still fulltime teaching :0 i am le tired.
Hope you like this new chapter!
PREVIOUSLY IN ‘WAKING UP’:
Ron finished his second C.R.E. (combat readiness exam)- 'Resilience and Flying Assessment'- He was thoroughly tested with dangerous Bots casting spells, and having to split up from Harry. He ended up leading a team with Neville, Ramona and Kevin- they nearly got blown to bits, hit aging mist that made him grow a beard (Thanks to neville's plant know-how they were able to de-age), and then at the end Ron positioned himself as a distraction to the bots so the other members could have a shot at the capture the flag win.
They won the flag and he passed his test. Percy was waiting for him outside the Auror office- he has news- and gives the paper for Ron to silently read to himself: 'Doctors Hugo and Jean Granger- FOUND.'
Even further back, Hermione went to her parents’ house. Fleur met her and did some booby trap spells before disarming them. Fleur gave her a brown paper package, and it was revealed that Ron had been tortured by Snatchers- the back of his clothes tattered and stained.The next day she helped Ron study- this chapter takes place before Ron's C.R.E. and is the same scene we saw in chapter 11, just from Hermione's POV.
Chapter 13- THE SNATCHER BOOK
A sense of normalcy had come to Hermione as she helped Ron and Harry with their studies. Suddenly her faculties were sharp, her body felt light, and she knew, without a doubt, she was of use.
Being of use was a tether in the storm she felt each day. The compunction to lay in bed and not face the inevitable slew of people she’d have to make niceties to was something so foreign it would have frightened her if she wasn’t so tired. How was it that no amount of sleep lifted the drained sensation? How was it that little made her smile or think or eat or comb her hair, but the knowledge that people would see her? Anymore, even that wasn’t stopping her. Yesterday she’d been a mess in pyjamas well into the afternoon…
But today was a new day! She’d been her old self. She was imaginative in her use of spells, fleet in her research, and had Ron saying how smart she was… It wasn’t as if he hadn’t said it to her a hundred thousand times, but recently he’d been pointing to her past when he said it. There was nothing in her present to point to… No, wait there was! She was being useful!
She stopped her woolgathering and went back to the book, feverishly scanning it for another useful spell.
“So the Captionem Deprehensio spell can be used to find a variety of traps and reveal their origins… That could be handy,” said Hermione, writing the spell down into her notes.
Ron leaned towards the book, his warm arm pressing against her side a bit. She felt herself begin to squirm and heat rose in her. He was so close, with his very kissable jaw nearby, and looked so determined as he concentrated on the book in her lap.
She loved to watch him when he was in true study-mode. The intelligent glint in his eye, the focus, the expressive way his hands would move as if his body involuntarily felt the spells before he tried them. He’d always done that, even in first year— lips would purse, as if to keep from sounding out loud, and she’d see his fingers minutely pinch and shift in a miniature prelude to the sure movements he’d do later. Even if he wasn’t accurate, he fully committed to whatever spell he did, waving with a sureness of wand she somewhat envied. There was never a hesitation, just a smooth arc of movement. Hermione was delicate and precise with her movements, but it always felt cramped and rigid, even though she was very accurate.
Ron’s hands twitched as he read, then he fully cast the Captionem Deprehensio spell. There was a pulse of familiar white-blue light that scanned the room, then disappeared. It must have been the same spell Fleur did at Hermione’s house; the spell she did before she’d given Hermione the brown paper package and revealed the torture Ron had experienced.
“Did I do it right?” asked Ron, startling her from her thoughts.
“I guess we can’t know unless there are traps set up,” she said, trying to comport herself. “If it’s the spell I’m thinking of, I believe it should have a sort of web-like pattern that will light up when there are threats. In this case the pattern surveyed the space and shut down before it could detect anything. Colours can stand for different types of traps.”
Ron smiled that open, boyish smile of his. How could he still smile at her like that? So open and careless and loving? He’d been through torture, and losing his brother, and he could just grin this devastatingly charming smile and look at her like she’d hung the moon, when she’d done nothing but make his life worse after he’d been through so much.
“I swear you know about every spell there is!”
She shook her head. “I don’t.”
His hand went around her and gave a squeeze, putting endless camaraderie and care into the simplest of gestures.
“Who else would know that about some obscure booby trap spell?” he argued. “The details of what it looked like were not in the book!”
She’d seen the spell, then smelled the blood.
“Fleur and Bill would, as curse breakers.”
The blood had been everywhere. And there were cuts through so many layers of clothes… She felt hot and like the room was going to fall in on her.
“Fine, but I still am dating the most brilliant woman in England,” she vaguely heard him say. He leaned close and kissed her cheek, smiling at her, completely unaware she knew. She knew he’d been tortured. She knew he hadn’t told anyone. Was he ashamed? Was it just too much to speak of? Was he trying to protect them? Was he afraid he’d be dismissed?
She looked over to Harry.
He’d welcomed Ron back to their tent and their lives. He’d defended him as she brought her wrath and mocked him.
The clothes had so much blood on them. She didn't know exactly why. What could cause injuries like that? What exactly had they done? She knew some of it, but needed to pretend she didn’t know any of it. The room felt stifling, her skin almost too tight. She had to escape. Was it early enough to have an excuse to leave?
“We should go to bed. You both have a big day tomorrow,” she said, turning Ron’s wrist to see the time in his watch. Nearly nine was late enough. She had to get out of there before she did something reckless.
“So… Where are we planning on sleeping?” Ginny asked.
Hermione couldn’t be near Ron. She was lucky she’d not had a nightmare near him the night before. She practically felt nightmares closing in now, even as she was awake.
“We should sleep in the places your mother expects so everyone actually sleeps,” Hermione said, fleeing from the bed, but stopping herself. She couldn’t just run off… They’d know something was off with her, and if they asked she wasn’t sure she could keep from spilling the truth. It took every ounce of her self control to still herself.
She let out a deep breath, then looked to Ron.
She could tell he wanted her to stay. Everyone wanted to be paired off as happy couples, but she couldn’t. As usual, she was ruining it for everyone… She had no choice, though. She couldn’t cover up her turmoil from him for long; he knew her too well.
If she couldn’t stay with him, the least she could do was kiss him so he knew she cared. She pulled Ron in for a quick kiss on the lips, before turning for the door.
“Sleep well you two,” she said, before walking from the room as fast as she could. She carefully controlled her pace, knowing one could hear the footfalls from his room fairly easily.
Once in her room, she changed into her pyjamas at a blistering pace and curled into the bed, squeezing her arms around herself and taking deep purposeful breaths.
Her mother had her do this when she was little and wanting to cry. When she was quite young she’d cried at school often: children were cruel and she was rather sensitive to their criticisms and barbs about everything about her, from her looks to her personality. Nothing much changed from when she was five; students were still cruel, only she cried marginally less.
At age six her teacher called home about Hermione pushing someone. She had not pushed him. He’d just somehow fallen after he’d touched her hair and told her it looked like a rat’s nest. No one believed her, of course. She’d burst into tears at school when they said she was a liar. She had never been a liar!
Her Mum came and took her home, a dubious look on her face as Hermione claimed she never touched him, then was in fresh tears again.
“He really just fell over! Why won’t anyone believe me?” Hermione cried. “I hate school!”
“Oh darling, that can’t be true. You love to learn,” her mother hummed as she hugged her.
“Learning’s not the same as school!” Hermione wailed. “Everyone’s so mean and they hate me! They make fun of me all the time, even for answering questions. And we’re supposed to, Mum!”
“Oh I know. You’re very good at answering questions. Don’t stop because of a few little bullies,” she said.
“They made fun of me for crying so much…” Hermione confessed. She’d gotten in the habit of crying in frustration.
“Do you want to cry so much?”
“N-no!” she sniffled.
“Well Hermione, why don’t we try this: if you ever feel upset, hug yourself if Mummy isn’t there to hug you, and breathe a big deep gulp of air, in and out, and think of how much we love you, just the way you are.”
Hermione tried the method, but it didn’t work to comfort her as her parents didn’t love her— they didn’t even know she existed all thanks to her.
The door soon clicked as Ginny entered.
“Hermione? Are you asleep already?”
“No,” she managed.
“I hate that they’re going off to the Aurors without us, and we can’t even watch. It feels like last summer all over again.” Ginny quietly changed clothes in the corner. “I think the boys will do well, though, don’t you?”
“I’m sure they will,” Hermione agreed.
“How did the studying go with Ron?”
“Fine.”
Ginny was quiet for a moment. “He’s been doing too much lately… I think he might need some extra attention right now.”
Hermione gave a hum as Ginny turned out the light.
“I know you heard me say it to Ron earlier,” she continued, “but it will be important that you and Ron don’t fall into old habits of putting Harry first. Ron really does need to concentrate on himself.”
Hermione said nothing.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes. Sorry, I’m just a bit tired.”
“These Auror trials are no joke. Tonks told me about them back when we were all in Grimmauld Place. And her series of exams were after years of training. I’m sure they’ll do well, but… Hermione?”
“Yes?” she vaguely asked.
“Never mind,” Ginny said quickly. With a rustle of sheets she got into her bed.
Hermione waited a long time until small, even snores told Ginny was asleep.
Hermione crept out of the bed and quietly conjured bluebell flames to see under the bed. She knelt down and opened her beaded bag, seeking out the one object she least wanted to see.
Carefully, she took the brown paper package out and painstakingly unwrapped it piece by piece, making sure not to let it rustle too loudly and wake Ginny.
The smell wafted over her, making her feel sick, but she couldn’t stop staring. The lacerations were each the length of her hand or longer, splitting the fabric in a long even slash. Each blood stain wasn’t particularly bloody, but there were a dozen or so of them. Some of them had more blood than others, looking like they’d been pressed directly into his wound. What had caused these? How did he not have one scar left after?
She stared and stared, not sure why she had to see it, or what she was hoping to learn.
She’d been staring at it for what must have been hours when her head nodded, sleep insistently pulling at her. Too tired to perfectly repack it, she haphazardly folded the paper around the clothes and stuffed it far under her camp-bed.
She quietly did the silencing spell on herself and drifted off to an unpleasant sleep.
Hermione felt her lungs collapsing, as well as everything else. Harry and Ron were following her through her Apparition. Harry’s hand held fast, while Ron’s hand twitched and pulled in hers.
She landed them in the Forest of Dean, autumn leaves all around. Harry was a few feet away, pushing himself from the forest floor, while she and Ron had landed in a tumble, falling in a puddle of something or another— her side felt soaked and warm.
She almost laughed in relief and looked up into Ron’s face expecting to see him smiling at her. His eyes were wide and he let out a gasp.
“Ron?” she asked.
His eyes fluttered as he groaned pain and looked down.
“Her-my—” he breathed out before his words stopped and his head fell back.
She looked down and her own breathing stopped.
They hadn’t landed in anything from the forest; Ron’s side was all blood, drenching them. She gasped. How had —? Oh God, she’d done it to him; she’d splinched him! And the blood was pooling all over them. Ron’s blood.
Her hands shook and she propelled herself to action, moving to cut away his shirt.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Harry, voice shaking as badly as her hands.
“Splinched,” she sharply answered. She’d splinched Ron. She’d hurt him. He was bleeding everywhere. With his shirt ripped open she could see his arm was missing a giant piece, and blood was gushing at an alarming rate. She tried to stop it with cloth, but it bled through in seconds, deep red and warm.
“Harry quickly, in my bag, there’s a bottle labelled ‘Essence of Dittany,’” she said, voice sounding distant to her ears. Harry ran over to her bag as she held the remnants of Ron’s jacket to the wound, but he bled through that too. Ron’s eyes finally rolled back in his head. He was dying in her arms!
“Quickly!” she yelled at Harry.
He brought forth a broken bottle. “Hermione, it’s broken.”
“What? No!” she took the fragments, not caring that they cut her hands. The bit of potion that touched her hissed and turned green, healing her hands. “No no no.”
She tried to get it into Ron’s wound, but there wasn’t enough.
“Harry— Harry we need, we need more cloth!” he didn’t respond. “Harry?”
She turned her head, but no one was there. She had no help. Ron’s breath was stuttering.
She pulled Ron’s ragdoll-limp body to her and realised his clothing was tattered in places she hadn’t inspected. She gently rolled him, revealing his back. It was covered in long wounds that gaped and bled as profusely as his arm. The blood was crawling along the forest floor and Ron’s breathing was becoming more and more shallow.
“You’re not going to die! You’re not!” she yelled, but not one wound would staunch. Everything was crimson, and Ron’s face was taking on a waxy greyish tint.
“Help!” she called out. No one responded. Her legs were warm with blood.
His breaths slowed, and the blood finally stopped pumping across her hands. Vacant blue eyes stared at the sky.
She wailed an anguished sound like a wounded animal, and a door slammed making her startle.
Her eyelids fluttered, realising she was no longer in the forest covered in Ron’s blood. She was in her bed at the Burrow. Ginny had slammed the door closed.
Hermione felt under her pillow until her hand blissfully curled around the cool wood of her wand. Blanket and hair covering most of the signs there was an actual human in the bed, she surreptitiously undid her silencing spell.
“Ginny, that was a bit abrupt,” she scolded, voice hoarse from her silenced screams.
“Oh sorry, I assumed you’d be awake since it’s past ten and it’s the boys’ second exam,” Ginny said in a breezy way, but she had a set to her jaw that made her look very much like her mother before a scolding.
“I… I was tired,” Hermione replied, knowing how ill of an excuse it was. She hadn’t even thought to wake up for them. The day before had been rather pleasurable, in its own way— she loved finally being of use again and seeing the joy and relief on Ron’s face each time he mastered a new spell or impressively hit a target. The moment they stopped studying the momentum came to an abrupt halt and she felt like a duck struck mid flight, plummeting and spiralling into a marsh, waiting for a labrador to drag her body in for supper. She’d thought of no one and nothing, just felt the murky waters rolling over her as sleep took too long to claim her.
Ginny crossed the room to her drawers and began looking through them.
“You’re ‘tired’ a lot,” she said, jerking the top drawer completely out and dumping its contents on her bed. “Have you seen my black sports bra?”
“Erm, no. I haven’t,” Hermione replied, sitting up, a palpable unease settling somewhere in her sternum.
Ginny growled as she began pulling drawers and swiping through their contents.
Hermione was sure her next question would set Ginny erupting like Vesuvius, but her curiosity outweighed any threat of a pyroclastic flow.
“Have I… Done something to offend you?”
“You’ve not done anything, have you?” Ginny snipped, looking about her. “Oh where is that blasted thing? It’s the only one that doesn’t make my shoulders feel like my head will fucking snap off!”
“Ginny,” Hermione insisted, knowing she sounded a bit naggy.
Her dark brown eyes snapped to Hermione’s. “Why weren’t you awake and downstairs to wish them luck?”
“Like I said, I was tired,” she practically squeaked.
“You went to bed at nine,” Ginny noted, obviously not in a mood to take excuses. “I’d understand if we’d each been with the boys, but you insisted we leave them so they’d get rest. Then you slept in like you’re the Queen and did absolutely nothing.”
“Alright, I slept in and I shouldn’t have,” Hermione stated. It took considerable force to keep the sharpness from her voice. “There’s no need to—”
“You should’ve seen his face when he asked about you,” Ginny interrupted, voice quiet but dagger sharp. “He was nervous as hell and wanted you there.”
“Why didn’t you wake me, then?”
“It’s not my job to make you act like you care about my brother!”
A slap would have stunned and baffled Hermione less.
She’d been accused of many things in her life- and annoyingly most of the accusations had a kernel of truth to them.
Being a know-it-all had been the most frequent insult since she first entered nursery school and spelled a students’ name for them, when they didn’t even know the alphabet. She’d been called ugly, and she had to admit she’d never been particularly pretty, what with her dowdy body, overbite and large hair that looked on the verge of devouring Europe. Then there was condescension, being a fussbudget, having no sense of humour, being petty, being prideful… She’d had all of those pushed her way at one point or another…
She’d never been accused of laziness before. She’d never been accused of not caring. She’d most certainly never had someone say she didn’t care for Ron.
The thought was revolting. Ron was the one person she cared most for in all the world. She wasn’t sure when he’d somehow usurped everyone else, but he definitely had. He was the first person she wanted to see the reaction of when something ridiculous happened. He was the first person she wanted to share any news with. He was the first person she wanted safe. A world with no Ron was grey and hopeless.
“Of course I care about Ron!” Hermione finally gasped out.
“Then act like it,” Ginny cooly retorted,
Hermione’s hackles began to rise. “Sleeping in one time doesn’t mean I’m—”
“It’s more than that.”
“How?” she questioned, not caring how sharp or loud her tone was now.
“It’s the way you prioritise everything before him!”
“I don’t do that!” she protested.
“Please,” Ginny said with an eyeroll.
“If you’re going to accuse me, at least give some pertinent evidence!”
“The fact that you can’t think of one example yourself is part of the problem!”
The redhead paced the room, arms wound tight, as if to keep her fists from flying out.
“Like yesterday: The second Harry needed help or a boost you were all over it and completely forgot Ron. Yesterday morning you were ready to help Harry study for his exam over Ron until I piped up.”
Hermione’s brows began to crease. “Yes, but Ron did the same thing.”
“How’s that supposed to make it better?” she asked. “He needs to study and stop waking early and cooking for everyone when he’s getting no sleep- but there you are offering to help Harry on exams, letting Ron coax you into eating as if you’re a toddler, not even bothering to congratulate him on his first exam, while he does everything! It’s not like Harry has a better track record— this has been a habit of both of yours for years— but at least I know Harry is trying to look after him now and has tried to get him to take care of himself and boosted him up lately.”
“Considering your own track record for mercilessly teasing Ron, you’re one to talk!” Hermione shot back. “When do you ever ‘boost up’ your brother?”
Ginny’s face began to turn a deep shade of red. “You wouldn’t get it; you’re an only child.”
“I might not fully understand, but the way you and your brothers, especially the twins, belittle him all the time is why he has always been so unsure of himself.”
“We’re not responsible for his self-esteem issues!”
“Aren’t you?” Hermione sniped. “You all have undercut him every year, more than anyone else in the family, except maybe Percy. Everyone has always thought the twins were so very funny- but they were torturing Ron at every turn!”
“Don’t you talk about Fred and George!” Ginny growled, eyes glittering with unshed tears.
“Alright,” she conceded, trying to keep her voice controlled. “But don’t act like you’ve been so wonderful for Ron when you’re tearing him down every time you’re in the same room. I know you want to show how very independent you are, but it’s gotten just short of despicable the last few years.”
Ginny stared at the floor, and Hermione could practically hear her teeth grinding.
“Fine,” Ginny sighed, words barely making it to Hermione’s ears. “I could lighten up with the teasing. But Hermione, you need to see how Ron needs help— your help!”
“I helped him prepare for his exam all of yesterday!”
“He cares about you more than anything—“ Ginny continued as if Hermione had said nothing. “He’ll listen if you ask him to slow down! He’ll let you if you offer to do things for him! You can’t just sit back and be this… This empty vessel, accepting his love and attention and giving nothing back!”
“I give back!” Hermione said, more to soothe herself than because she believed it.
“Oh right— you do give him snogs.” Ginny rolled her eyes and went back to tearing through the room to find her sports bra.
Hermione had felt useless and terrible for weeks, but now it was confirmed… She was doing nothing, giving nothing… Useless, useless, useless…
“I’m going fucking mad!” Ginny cursed, started to look under her bed. “Is there a chance it’s with your clothes?”
“You’re free to look,” Hermione said, numbly staring at the wall. Ginny was right. She was an empty vessel. She couldn’t act. Couldn’t think.
Ginny grumbled as she looked under their beds, clearly unable to find… What was it she was looking for again? Hermione was going to ask when Ginny gave a small cry and backed out from under Hermione’s bed so quickly she nearly upset the nightstand.
“What is it?” Hermione asked.
“I think it’s blood,” Ginny said, face pale.
Realisation slowly dawned. Hermione's heart began to race as she watched Ginny's face contort with shock and disgust. She had been so consumed with her own guilt and self-hatred that she had forgotten about the brown paper package filled with Ron’s clothes.
Ginny crept back towards the bed and Hermione let out a faint, “Don’t—”
It was too late. Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands as Ginny stood in front of her.
"What is this?" Ginny asked, holding the blood-stained clothing.
Hermione couldn't find the words to speak. She slowly raised her eyes out of her hands. All she could do was stare at the clothes and feel the smell of sweat and blood engulfing her. There was so much blood.
“Hermione, what is this?” Ginny asked again, voice shaking in concern.
Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at her friend. "It's from when Ron was captured last year," she said barely above a whisper.
“At Malfoy Manor?” Ginny’s voice sounded small, young and so afraid.
She shook her head. “Snatchers.”
“What happened to him?”
“I-I don’t know,” Hermione stuttered, the words barely audible. “Did Harry tell you about Ron’s time away from us?”
Ginny gave a small nod. “The other night when he was drunk. He was waxing poetic ‘bout Ron, then said the Horcrux had driven Ron off and he couldn’t get back for a while.”
Hermione felt some modicum of relief. She had not discussed any of that with her, in part because she feared Ginny would judge Ron for leaving them. Hermione had judged him terribly at the time and she’d dealt with the Horcrux. Of course, if anyone could understand a Horcrux driving them to do something against their will, it was Ginny.
“He couldn’t get back to us because he was caught by Snatchers. When he came back he made a joke of it, said they were stupid and smelled and that he’d splinched a few fingernails off… and that was all.”
She looked down at the clothes.
“Day before yesterday Fleur gave me that brown package, as evidence, if he needed it…”
She explained what Fleur had described to her: an unrecognisable Ron, beaten and bloody, with broken bones and no explanation; All he had was a drive to get back to her and Harry.
“Harry doesn’t know about this,” Ginny said rather than asked, haphazardly folding the brown paper around his clothes and placing them on the ground between them.
Hermione shook her head. “Ron didn’t tell me or Harry any of this. He didn’t want us to know.”
“But now we do. We need to do someth—”
“And what exactly are we supposed to do?” Hermione interrupted. “He lied about it. Whatever horrible things they did, he doesn’t want any of us to know about it! Are we supposed to corner him and make him tell us what they did?”
“Maybe we should!” Ginny threw her hands in the air.
“And make him relive whatever he went through right when he’s in the middle of exams? Or if he comes back having done amazing today, we’re supposed to spoil his moment of triumph?”
“Well no, but… Someone needs to know. We should tell Mum and Dad! This is—” Ginny swallowed then stopped. “Bill would have told them if he wanted them to know… This is probably too much for them right now… And Harry would go mental…”
The two girls stared at the bloody clothes.
“We should talk to him about it,” Hermione said quietly, “but not right now…”
“When?”
Hermione gave a hopeless shrug. When did you confront someone with intimate evidence of a secret so foul?
Ginny bit her lip. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“Don’t be…” She hadn’t said one thing that wasn’t true. “You’re right… I haven’t been good for Ron, good for anyone… I’ve been so… so utterly useless.”
Tears threatened to flood her eyes and she rapidly blinked, knowing she didn’t deserve to cry about anything.
“I’m sorry. I’m being a ninny,” Hermione said, squeezing the fat of her palms against her eye sockets.
She felt arms surround her. “You are good for Ron and me and everyone else. You’re family! You just have some blind spots—most people do around Harry.”
Hermione gave a vociferous sniff. How many times had she let Ron be in her blind spot? She wasn’t sure. She felt like she was hyper aware of him at all times, but everything was making it rapidly clear; she was utterly clueless when it came to Ron.
“Let’s get up and do something,” said Ginny. “You need to get out of bed and do things. I’ve felt depressed and useless before, and finding purpose and actually moving helps. I’d say let’s do some chores here, but my brother’s done most of them.”
Ginny carefully refolded the brown paper package and hid it deep under Hermione’s bed.
Hermione wanted to do something for Ron, something he would know meant he was appreciated. She had to admit she wasn’t very good at knowing what creature comforts he preferred. He liked being helped with papers and homework when he was overwhelmed, and seemed to like being held and having his head stroked a few of the times he’d been upset… Beyond that she wasn’t sure. For years she’d avoided any intimate gestures so she wouldn’t give away her infatuation. She gave Ron and Harry the same gifts, the same sorts of compliments— well she had to admit she tended to bite her tongue with Ron on compliments, for fear he’d know of her interest she’d convinced herself was one-sided.
The thought of how rubbish she was for him was flaring so loudly she could barely think, when she realised one creature comfort she’d seen him turn to.
“Perhaps we can do a bit of cooking?” asked Hermione. He loved a home cooked meal. If she could cook enough food he wouldn’t have time to take it on himself that week.
“Mum’s out visiting Andromeda and Teddy until late this evening and Dad’s got late meetings, so that’s perfect,” said Ginny.
A pang of guilt struck Hermione. She hadn’t thought about Teddy Lupin or any of them in weeks. Andromeda had lost almost her entire family and had a baby to care for. Hermione couldn’t even take care of herself anymore.
“I’ll find some easy recipes,” said Ginny as she left. Hermione could hear her footsteps fading down the stairs.
Hermione opened her bag and grabbed the first clothing her hands landed on so she wouldn’t become stalled with decisions, then looked in the mirror. She hated how pale and thin she was with giant dark bags under her eyes. And then there was her hair.
She’d been slightly neglecting it. Parts were getting knotted and she really needed to condition and comb it out before it turned into a woollen throw. Not wanting to bother with making it behave, she flung her hair up in a large topknot. She only had so much energy, and her hair wasn’t half as important as finally doing something nice for Ron.
She had just made it downstairs when the Floo activated with a ‘fwoosh,’ making both the girls startle.
“Hello, is this the Weasley residence?” said a woman’s officious voice through the green flames.
“This Floo is restricted access,” Ginny announced, arms crossed.
“Yes. The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, is requesting permission to access your home,” the woman replied, a touch impatiently.
“Oh! Uh… Permission granted?”
“We will need to do a security sweep,” came a man’s voice.
“What?” asked Ginny, but suddenly the fireplace burst into person-sized green flames and two men emerged in deep purple robes.
“Pardon us. This won’t take a moment,” one of them smiled, as the other gruffly went through the Weasley kitchen doing a bevy of spells.
“It’s clear,” the friendlier of them said into the Floo. With another large movement of green flames, Kingsley walked into their home.
“I’m sorry for the production, but the Ministry is starting to insist on it.” He looked to the two officers, dutifully standing at attention. ”Gentlemen, you can leave.”
“Yes, sir,” the all-business one said, and with that they disappeared back to the Floo, letting the green flames turn back to normal on their exit.
“Do you have a security question for me?” Kingsley asked, spelling away the soot from his flowing dark blue robes.
“Oh, erm, yes,” Hermione said, looking to Ginny.
“Who was the Order of the Phoenix member who routinely ate the last of the plum puddings?” Ginny asked, a small smile on her face.
“That would be me,” he said with a slightly bashful look that seemed very out of place on such a powerful wizard. “And what object was a tripping hazard in the front hall of the Order Headquarters?”
“The umbrella stand,” Hermione and Ginny replied. It was bittersweet remembering how Tonks would trip over the stand with regularity.
“Should I get Mum from Andromeda’s?“ asked Ginny.
“No need to bother Molly. Or Andromeda. I’m here to speak with Hermione, the boys, and you as well, Ginny. I would have come when the boys weren’t in their Exam, but my schedule wouldn’t permit me to come for another few days,” he said, shaking his head.
“Sounds like you've been rather busy,” Ginny said, heading to the stove. “Tea?”
“Thank you, yes,” he said. He definitely looked strained compared to the other times Hermione had seen him.
“Hermione, I’ve been made aware that you and others were caught by Snatchers during the war.”
Ginny fumbled the kettle with a loud clang. “Sorry,” she said. Hermione could see her shoulders rising in tension.
“That’s right,” Hermione answered Kingsley, doing her level best to not look as fragile as she felt.
“I have a book of photos for you and the boys to look through. We need witnesses to confirm crimes and war crimes Snatchers committed so we can charge the perpetrators,” he said, opening the book to an array of wizards, and a few witches. Page after page were official ID photos from the Ministry. “I’m hoping the three of you are willing to identify the Snatchers who kidnapped you, and report any other individuals of note we should know about.”
“Wouldn’t their position as a Snatcher be enough for you to charge them?” Hermione asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Kingsley said, taking a seat at the dining room table. “Snatcher was just an official title given to people. Whether or not they actually committed crimes is another matter. If they fulfilled any of the duties of Snatcher beyond paperwork then that usually is enough to be charged with something like intent to kidnap, but there are some Snatchers who allegedly used their position to help people.”
“Well, they certainly haven’t helped anyone in this house,” Ginny said, putting out tea and the biscuit tin for them all.
“No. I don’t think anyone from the Order has seen the good side of a Snatcher,” he said with a rueful shake of his head, taking up his cup of tea. “So this book will have their photo bordered in orange if you recognise someone.”
Hermione turned a few pages, and there was Fenrir Greyback, staring back at her, his gruesomely sharp grin on full display. The black border around him turned orange and glowed.
“However, if they have committed crimes you witnessed, you can touch your wand to their photo to confirm you saw, heard or experienced evidence of their crimes. It will turn green. To do this, picture the crime in your mind and the possible charges will be listed underneath. No one but you, me, others who witnessed the crime and necessary staff can see this list.”
“Who are the necessary staff?”
“People actively working on the case or in the courtroom. The prosecutors, Aurors and clerks actively working on the case can see it, as well as whoever is defending them in court.”
“What happens if I just touch the photo without thinking of the specific crimes?”
“It will still grow green, but no list will be displayed. This might prompt an interview with an Auror or Ministry Prosecutor so we at least know what crimes you bore witness to or heard the confession of. If they need you to testify, they will contact you. The wand method can be a good way to cut down on you having to describe things to a stranger as often.”
Not wanting to describe Greyback’s crimes more than she had to, she touched her wand to his photo and thought back to the nights she’d seen him commit heinous crimes.
At Hogwarts and her sixth year out of the corner of her eye she’d seen Fenrir’s back and matted hair. He was hunkered over some prone figure. That figure had turned out to be Bill Weasley, who he had mauled and left scarred for life.
Then there was the night he and the other Snatcher captured her, the boys and others, taking them to Malfoy Manor. She could still remember the feel of him pressing against her in lewd ways, commenting on her flesh he wanted to bite. He and the others had beaten Ron. They had commented on killing others, and had kidnapped all of them, and turned them over to be tortured by Bellatrix.
Finally, she’d seen him mauling Lavender Brown, who was still horribly scarred and in recovery from it.
In tiny green writing it listed what she’d thought of.
Inflicting Grievous Bodily Harm (GBH)
Causing GBH or wounding with intent to cause GBH
Common Assault
Actual Bodily Harm
Confession of Murder
Kidnapping
As the list continued down, the other photos moved to accommodate the lines of crimes, though many photos rolled their eyes and huffed at having to move.
The list continued on another few inches down, all the way to petty thievery.
It was odd seeing it laid out in words. In some ways it felt wrong for such heinous acts to be summed up so neatly in a few lines. At the same time, having a succinct list of crimes with Kingsley overseeing it, it felt like there might be some form of justice down the road.
“Keep the book and have the boys look over it, if they feel so inclined,” said Kingsley.
“Don’t forget Dean Thomas. He was captured by Snatchers too,” said Ginny.
“We haven’t. That’s how we learned about Harry, Ron and Hermione’s capture. They were investigating Ted Tonks’ death. I might be Minister now, but I wanted to help. He and Andromeda are old friends, and Order members, even if just peripherally.”
Hermione nodded as a thought struck her. “Is this a thorough list of all the Snatchers?”
“All that we have official photos of. There might be some people who aided Snatchers or acted as ones in some capacity who were not included. They didn’t get paid unless they were official Snatchers, so that was a good incentive for them to file paperwork and get ID photos.” He took a moment to glance at his watch. “I wish I could stay, but I have a meeting with the Prime Minister in a bit.”
“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, this more fully put into perspective Kingsley was a world leader now, not just a highly trusted Auror and Order member. “You didn’t have to bring this yourself, Kingsley.”
“If I had law enforcement you already knew and trusted I would have sent them.” It went unsaid that the Aurors they knew were now dead. “Plus I didn’t want to spring this on Arthur or Percy at work.”
“Thank you for being so thoughtful with this.”
“We Order members need to look out for one another,” he said with a small smile that managed to put her at ease. She was never an Order member, technically, but she appreciated the sentiment. “And Ginny, there are a few pages at the back with photos of people you might recognise from your time at Hogwarts; mostly surviving Death Eaters. If you chose to identify them for us that would be helpful to our cases.”
Ginny gave a nod.
“Minister, it’s time to meet with the Prime Minister,” came the woman’s voice through the Floo.
He sighed before dipping down the last of his tea.
“Thank you, ladies,” he said with a small bow of his head before leaving through the Floo again to his office.
“Meeting with the Prime Minister,” Ginny said with a whistle. “Poor man.”
“I hear this one is not too bad.”
“I don’t know anything about politics except that I want nothing to do with politicians,” Ginny said with a shake of her head as she sat at the table. Hermione declined to comment on how Kingsley was a politician now, or that Ginny and her family very much took a political stance almost daily with their actions and sentiments.
Hermione let her fingers trail over the book. “Should we show this to the boys?”
“Of course,” Ginny said, a crease of confusion between her eyebrows.
“But now? Would this be any better than bringing up Ron’s clothes?”
Ginny stared at the book. “We might learn who did all that to Ron…”
“But not what they did.”
“We can tell most of what they did from looking at his clothes,” said Ginny, eyes still not meeting Hermione’s. “I say we show them the book, but save any confrontations about the Snatchers until this Auror Exam business is over.”
“I don’t know…” Hermione dithered, not wanting to make things worse.
“I don’t want to delay the people in that book from getting put away. Neither will Harry or Ron.”
She was right, of course. Neither one of them would want to delay justice. At the same time, she didn’t want to make his life harder than she already had.
“Hand us the book, then,” said Ginny.
Hermione slid the book of Snatchers across the table.
“Let’s get this over with,” said Ginny, flipping her way through it and touching a few images here and there with her wand.
In all the time they’d spent at the Burrow since the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione hadn’t spoken with Ginny about her time at Hogwarts. Ginny had a few scars on her arms, but hadn’t brought up the topic once.
“Was Hogwarts very bad last year?”
“It wasn’t pleasant.” Ginny paused mid page flip. “It was a bit like when Umbridge was in charge, only with Unforgivables, pro-Voldemort propaganda, and dark magic.”
“Did they—?”
“Done,” said Ginny, touching the last picture and slapping the book closed.
“Was it the—?”
“I’ll start putting together food, you finish looking through the book,” said Ginny, a firm set to her jaw as she got out a few of Mrs Weasley's cookbooks.
It was times like this where Hermione wondered if Ginny would have ever chosen Hermione as a friend, if not for proximity.
They’d been very much thrown together over the years, the ‘only girls’ being forced to room together. Hermione could see the hesitancy Ginny had with her—girls had never particularly liked Hermione. Well, no children had really liked her until Ron and Harry. And Neville, though much of the time she felt it was because she was a life raft he needed more than he genuinely liked her.
The first few nights she spent in Ginny’s room the summer before fourth year had been awkward, but somehow they’d found a rhythm. Ginny was a lot like Ron: warm, welcoming, passionate, clever, brave, impossible not to like. Weasleys were all like that. The biggest difference was that Ron was never forced to spend time with her, be polite or welcome her in as a guest— initially he’d hated her and was an independent agent who owed her nothing— so when he changed and brought her into his life she knew he wanted her there. With Ginny, Hermione couldn’t quite tell how much was politeness and finally having a young woman nearby in a house of boys, versus her genuinely wanting Hermione’s presence around. Once back at school they would talk, but they had their own paths and Ginny rarely spent time with just Hermione.
In some ways they had the intimacy of friendship, but it always felt tenuous for her when Ginny was clearly upset, but tight-lipped. Hermione was ill-equipped to handle emotions on the best of days.
Not having it in her to pursue a stubborn Weasley, Hermione flicked through the book Kingsley had given them, finding Scabior and the other Snatchers who had captured them. These men provoked less fearsome memories than Fenrir and his groping claws and wake of blood he left wherever he went. She flipped to the back and recognised a few Death Eaters here or there. Bellatrix wasn’t there, being thoroughly dead.
Dark task done, Hermione turned her attention back to Ron and trying to help him in some way.
Food and something else… Ah! She set up his chess board and got out the paper, which Mrs Weasley had stopped hiding. Finding what she needed, she went to help Ginny.
They spent the rest of the afternoon making casseroles and quiches enough to last the household days without a person needing to lift a spoon to have meals ready.
The work had made the hollow feeling in her chest ease just a bit, but her attention was continuously brought to the book of Snatchers, resting like a scimitar ready to come down on the relative peace of the house.
The food wasn’t delicious. Despite following the recipes and tasting along the way, it was just average fare— but it was plentiful.
It was nearly time for dinner by the time the Floo burst into green flames again. Harry came through first, looking a bit pale, but smiling as Ginny bounded up. It warmed her to see that particular smile he only held for the youngest Weasley.
“How’d it go?” Ginny asked, throwing her arms around him. His hands quickly encompassed her waist.
“We both passed,” he told them.
Ginny quickly kissed him. “I knew you would! Bet you were flying circles around whatever they set up.”
“Definitely not,” he said, a rueful look on his face. “It was mad. They had these battle dummies that obliterated everything around us if they saw anything move. Nearly got blasted dozens of times. Would’ve, if it wasn’t for Ron.”
The green flames turned back to normal before dying down to nothing.
“Where is Ron?” Hermione asked, eyes fixed on the empty fireplace. What if something—
“He’s okay,” Harry assured her, reading her mind. “Percy showed up to congratulate him and Ron waved me off. Said he’d be here soon, though.”
“Oh.” Hermione felt herself deflate as she watched the empty grate. She only half listened to Harry describe his time in the exam and the vests that acted as portkeys.
She knew Ron was fine. Harry had said so. It didn’t make her feel less nervous not having him right there beside them.
“The forest was rife with traps, of course. Good thing we had fast brooms. At one point the trees all started falling in on us like Devil’s Snare or snakes. It was like that time with Nagini at Bagshot’s,” Harry said that last part to Hermione.
Both paused to remember one of the worst times of their lives— no Ron, one wand, Harry nearly dead in a torpor for days.
“I’m glad you had fast brooms,” Ginny said, biting her lip. “Here, let’s have you look this book over so we can get the bad stuff over with.”
Ginny grabbed the Snatcher book and pushed it towards Harry, explaining the purpose of the book and how the spells worked.
“It should already have all the ones we know, Harry,” said Hermione, watching as he flipped through the book, frown on his face. He read through the descriptions one by one, nodding. He’d witnessed most of the same crimes, so all but a few showed up for him.
“Looks pretty thorough,” he said, putting it back on the table and leaning back in his chair. “Ugh. I’m exhausted.”
“Would you like some dinner?” asked Ginny.
“That would be perfect,” he said with a sigh.
Hermione pursed her lips. How could they eat when Ron wasn’t back yet?
As if summoned by her thoughts of him, the fireplace burned green and out stepped Ron, a few papers in hand.
“You’re back!” Hermione cried, latching onto him, much as Ginny had Harry. He gave a hiss as she hugged his arm to her. She stood back. “Are you hurt?”
She cast a small frown at Harry. He’d said Ron was okay!
“Only a bit hurt. They fixed me up, but I landed on my arm and it’s still sore,” he said, giving his left wrist a bit of a rotation. She looked up to his face and belatedly realised he was sporting a beard. She’d never imagined him with one before. It made him look so much older and manly in a sort of valorous way that she suddenly wanted him all to herself.
“What’d you do to your face?” Ginny asked, bringing over the casserole dish and setting it out on the table.
“What?” he asked.
“You’ve got a beard,” Hermione said, feeling her face start to burn.
“Damn it. I forgot to shave that off,” he said, fingers rasping against it. “We got into some sort of ageing mist. Me and my team were over a hundred years old for a bit. This is the leftovers of it, I guess.”
“You look like an orangutan,” Ginny teased.
“You look dashing,” Hermione corrected, fixing Ginny with a weighted glare who managed to look a touch sheepish.
“I mean, it just looks out of place because you’re young. If you grew one when you were older, I’m sure it’d look fine,” Ginny amended, getting a suspicious look from Ron.
“Do you think it’ll grow back once you shave it?” Harry asked.
Ron gave a shrug before bodily throwing himself into a chair and setting his papers on the table precariously close to the Snatchers book. “Dunno. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”
“We cooked. Are you hungry?” Hermione asked.
“Famished, thanks,” he said, sitting up taller in his seat.
She and Ginny put together plates that the boys eagerly tore into. Ron mostly stayed quiet as Harry told them about the last of their exam.
“Then Ron went up on his broom so the battle dummies would follow him and gave us an opening. What were you, half a mile up?”
“Felt like it when I was falling from it.” He gave a shudder.
“Then that annoying girl Ramona ended up capturing the flag, but it was all thanks to Ron,” Harry grinned as he took a bite of casserole.
“So Ron sacrificed himself?” Ginny asked, not smiling at all as she reached to add more casserole to Harry’s bowl.
“Ginny…” Hermione said warningly.
The boys seemed unaware of the minefield they’d stepped into.
“We had on those vests; I knew I’d be okay,” said Ron through a large bite. “Took forever for the portkey to kick in so I fell a long ways. Made me worry the vest wouldn’t work, for a bit— and of course, I thought I’d bollocksed up the exam, but I ended up passing anyway, somehow.”
“You sacrificed yourself and you didn’t know you’d pass,” said Ginny, pausing mid serve, a potent glare settling on Harry. “You let him do this?”
Harry roughly swallowed his bite, seeming to understand the situation given the way the smile fled his face.
“Let me?” began Ron, eyes glinting in challenge. “Harry’s not my minder. I made a plan and executed it.”
The ladle in Ginny’s hand quivered, and she looked very much like she wanted to fling it across the room then dump the remains of the casserole on Harry.
“And he did quite well, it sounds like,” Hermione prodded, hoping to avoid another Weasley fight. She understood the anger and fear swirling in Ginny, but she equally understood how Ron needed to have a moment to breathe and be celebrated. “And you’re not hurt badly, are you?”
“Er, no,” Ron said, giving his arm a wave to show how functional it was.
Ginny stared down at the table and took a deep breath. “Right…” She held her breath then finally released it, though it looked as if it were painful for her to do so. “Fine… let’s celebrate you then. I’ll put on the wireless.”
She turned on the wireless and fiddled with the dial, past news and Celestina Warbeck, until a Weird Sisters track came on, music buoyant and lighthearted. Hermione moved the Snatchers book to a nearby seat so they wouldn’t have to look at it.
As Ginny sat, Hermione just caught the intense glance she gave Harry that very much said, ‘we’re going to talk about this later, and I doubt you’ll enjoy it.’
The tension was palpable, but both the girls seemed determined to celebrate and keep it merry despite how tired the boys were and how Ginny was pointedly not touching or looking at Harry.
Hermione beamed when she was able to turn the dial of the wireless to a Chudley Cannons game.
“No!” Ron let out, a broad smile on his face. “Oh it’s been ages!”
They finished their meal with a few short games of chess by the fire that Ron won with more speed than usual- whether from Harry's distraction or Ron being in fine strategic form, she couldn’t say.
The Cannons game was quickly over when the opposing team caught the Snitch. Ron let out a moan of dismay.
“We’ll get them next time!” he said before giving a vociferous yawn.
“You both look exhausted,” Ginny said to the boys. “Let’s turn in for the night.”
The question of ‘where’ hung about until Ginny waved it away with a, “Hermione do you need to grab anything from my room?”
Oh, it was going to be like that.
Harry, who normally was quite eager to spend time with his girlfriend, looked much like he did before going into battle; pale, jaw clenched, determined with a touch of fear as he worked out a plan.
Toothbrush in the bathroom, Hermione shook her head, giving Harry a look that was both apologetic and commiserating. She’d been on the receiving end of Ginny’s anger only earlier that day, and it had felt blistering and hollowing all at once. By the look of ire on Ginny’s face, he had a long night ahead of him.
Ron put on his ‘disapproving brother’ face as they went up the stairs, but it soon turned into a great yawn and a small smile at Hermione.
“Thought they’d never leave,” he said, putting out a hand and coaxing her from her seat towards him. She quickly moved where his hand guided her, until she was standing between his knees with him grinning at her. “You cooked food for me.”
“Well it was for everyone, and it wasn’t as good as your mum’s by any stretch, even though we tasted it all to make sure it was right and followed the recipe as written to the t,” she babbled until his hand squeezed hers and he squinted at her in that teasing way only he could. “But yes. I cooked for you.”
“Thank you,” he said simply, but it felt like there was more to it. “You kept busy today and ate your dinner tonight. Well done.”
She hadn’t noticed, actually. She bristled at being praised for something so very minor and pathetic in terms of accomplishments. One glance into his warm expression made her ease, feeling like a hedgehog relaxing its quills until they laid flat. Somehow he was staring at her with genuine pride, happy she’d taken care of herself even minorly. She wished she could so easily convey how she felt to him.
“We should be celebrating you right now,” she said, trying not to let the wash of emotions make her wobble.
“How were you thinking?” he asked carefully, letting another hand drift up and hold her other hand.
“I was thinking we could go to bed and you could tell me yourself about everything you did,” she said before pulling him towards her out of the chair. He was so tall his head nearly hit the nearby hanging lamp. “Maybe I could massage your hurt arm, and then—”
He leaned forward and she thought he was going to kiss her before he bent past her and grabbed some papers.
“We have something we need to talk about first,” he said, face suddenly a mask of seriousness, brows arching into an apprehensive wrinkle.
Hermione worried her lower lip. It could be anything he wanted to discuss; Snatchers, school, trials, Death Eaters… “Whatever it is, can it wait until tomorrow?”
“What?” He blinked at her.
“If it isn’t an emergency, then I’d rather wait on knowing anything about it.”
“It’s not an emergency, exactly… But you want to wait?” he asked, clearly unsure and sceptical. A measure of disbelief at her wanting to put off knowing something was natural. She rarely put off knowing anything and was fairly ravenous in her appetite for every bit of knowledge at her disposal, be it the contents of a nearby pamphlet, the next chapter of a book, or the surprise behind someone’s back. She preferred the instant gratification of answers to any joy built through anticipation.
“Do you want to wait on even knowing what it’s about?” asked Ron. “Because you normally prefer to know everything sooner than later. And this is rather a big bit of news.”
He knew her too well.
“You don’t seem to think whatever it is will be good news,” said Hermione, mentally noting how he still looked wan and worried. She didn’t have the wherewithal to process bad news, and didn’t want barely-held-together Ron to have to pick up the emotional pieces she could shatter into.
“It’s not bad news,” he assured her, “but you might not be happy with me about it.”
“Then it can wait,” she said with confidence. “Let’s just be happy tonight.”
“You sure?” he asked, eyes wide and in that particular lamplight, startlingly blue.
“Quite.”
“And you promise not to be mad that we put it off?”
“Yes,” she promised, doing her level best not to be irritated at him questioning her again. “I have something for us to go over tomorrow, too, but as opposed to your announcement, it’s decidedly unpleasant.”
Ron cast a wary look her way, body bracing as if he was about to take a hit. “Did I— Or is it— Did George do something—?”
“Oh no, no!” she denied with emphasis, feeling wholly inconsiderate she’d not made it more clear. “It’s nothing you’ve done and it’s nothing to do with your family at all! It’s just identifying some criminals from the war for Kingsley. Harry and I already did it, but you can add yourself to the witness list.”
She picked up the Snatchers book.
His face immediately changed and his body relaxed back into his usual loose, easy posture.
“We can check out the uglies tomorrow,” he happily agreed.
Part of her selfishly wished he’d gone ahead and protested. She wanted to watch him look through the book, and see him recognize his assailants so she could put them on a private hit list. She felt such loathing for the unknown Snatchers it was hard to school her features into a neutral expression. She must have failed at this, for he gave a chuckle and took the book from her.
“How about we hide that and these papers in my roll top, and get to that celebration you were talking about,” he said, bringing up a fist to cover his yawn and gave a frown. “After I shave.”
“You could keep it,” Hermione promptly said, before heat took over her face. She wished for a curtain of hair to hide behind instead of a giant poof of a bun swaying uselessly on top of her head.
Ron’s face lit up with his lopsided grin. “Oh yeah? You like it?”
“I don’t mind it,” she corrected.
“What did you call my beard when Ginny said I looked like a monkey?”
“Dashing,” she mumbled. “And she said orangutan.”
“I much prefer your description.” His voice had pitched down just a hint.
Overwhelmed by the girlish giggle trying to make its way out of her, she giddily backed up a pace until she bumped against one of the room’s wooden posts. He leaned in. “Course you might not feel the same if I were to kiss you. Might be a touch scratchy.”
Her pulse quickened. “Were you planning on kissing me?”
Ron's grin widened as he stepped closer to her, causing her heart to race. "Were you hoping I would?"
Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she met his gaze. "Maybe," she whispered.
Without another word, Ron leaned in and pressed his lips gently against hers. She could feel the roughness of his beard against her skin, grounding her in a kiss that would otherwise make her float.
After a few blissful seconds, they pulled away from each other, their foreheads touching as they caught their breath.
“I think we should take this celebration up to your bedroom," said Hermione.
“Yeah we’d better go before Mum arrives,” Ron said, taking her hand and leading her up the multiple flights of stairs to his room.
After twenty four hours of heartache and self loathing, her mind was in a state of contentment again. Once they were in his room, she quickly spelled together their bed.
And then the moment seemed to pause and they stared at one another, not sure how to go back to kissing, or try their hand at something else. Hermione was hoping kissing could lead to something else that would keep her mind thoroughly distracted.
“Do you want to change for bed?” he asked, quickly finding the same Cannons t-shirt she’d worn the other day.
“Alright, but after that I want to celebrate you a bit more. It sounds like you were really amazing.”
His cheeks turned red and he rubbed his neck. “I did alright.”
“Hmmm… Why don’t you tell me about it?” she asked, walking towards him and trailing her hands along the bottom hem of his shirt.
He gave an appreciative hiss. “I can’t talk worth a lick when your hands are on me like that.”
“Then we’d better change and get in bed.”
Not waiting for him to gallantly turn around, she pulled off her shirt, feeling a thrill as he stared at her, mouth just slightly open but turning up at the edges and hiding in his beard. Her face flushed under his scrutiny, but she liked being stared at like she was a desirable woman instead of a prudish, emotionally damaged, skinny mess.
He shook his head and started taking his shirt off. She grinned at the sight, his long lean frame, the steady muscles of his pecs and arms bunching as he finished taking off his shirt.
She began to unbutton the top of her jeans and peeled them off. Like a returning volley in tennis, he did the same.
Down to only their underthings they stood still, flushed and raw as they stared at one another and took in every detail.
He broke the tension by picking up the Cannons shirt and silently offering it to her. She took it, rubbing the soft worn fabric between her fingers. She looked up to see him watching her, breath bated, cheeks flushing all the way to his ears. She loved how he was a combination of lust and innocence, one moment ravenously kissing her, the next chivalrously trying to cover her modesty.
She let the shirt fall from her hand.
He tilted his head in a silent question.
She answered his question by bounding into his arms.
She giggled in surprise as he hefted her up by her bottom just a moment, letting her legs cross behind his hips. His long fingers nearly spanned each globe as he kneaded them. She continued to kiss him, revelling in the powerful way he held her, and how the rugged beard felt against her.
He moved her quickly to the bed, but had less surety in his movement as he went to put her down, there being a wobbly-legged moment where he crouched, but was still unable to quite reach the low bed with her wrapped around him.
“Heh, thought I’d stick the landing better,” he huffed, unsteadily placing her on the bed. She smiled and pulled him towards her, fingers curling around his broad shoulders.
“Next time I’ll build a taller bed,” she murmured, wanting to feel him against her. He smelled of pine needles and fresh air. He felt warm and firm against her.
She wanted to take in every detail of him: his countless freckles over every contour of his face, the riot of reds and oranges through his hair that wavered like a flame each time he moved.
And then she looked up into his deep-set blue eyes. Her heart beat faster seeing the tender gaze he had in his face. He had so many shades of blue in his eyes, like an early evening sky just beginning to dim. He was like a painting, and they had chosen all the best complementary colours that made him vibrate with life.
“You’re beautiful,” she let out, wanting to smother herself as he incredulously looked at her then burst out into a chuckle. He laughed the same way he did everything, with his full feeling and full body going into it. “Don’t laugh!”
“Sorry!” he wheezed, rolling off her and to the side to continue laughing, “just think your bun might be twisted too tight.”
“It’s not funny!” It made her furious he’d find that so laughable.
“There are a lot of words to describe me— you probably know more words than anyone— so it’s pretty funny you’d choose… that,” he said with a snort, clearly uncomfortable.
Hermione found herself irascibly tongue-tied, which especially seemed to happen when he was down on himself.
The dark thoughts began creeping up on her… Useless. Empty vessel.
“I do know a lot of words,” she finally said, poking him in the side. “Exasperating, childish, mercurial!”
He gave a chuckle, looking fondly at her, happy to be teased by her again. She wouldn’t let him off so easily.
“Heroic, witty, good…” Her fingers traced the swirling silvery scars up his arms. “And yes, beautiful.”
He shifted under her gaze. “I’d rather save that one for you.”
“If you like,” she said, more to get along than because she’d ever thought the term could seriously apply to herself. “But altogether you have to know I think… I think you’re just about perfect.”
His eyes rapidly blinked. “Oh.”
“I’ve always felt that way… You were always this fiery boy who felt things so deeply and I was drawn in.”
“Long noses and tattered hand-me-down robes had you done for, hmm?”
“You can try to deflect all you like, but like I said earlier, I’m celebrating you!” She gave him a small shove and he winced as he put more weight on his left arm.
“Is it still hurting?” she asked, sitting up.
“It’s nothing,” he said quickly.
“Well, they should have healed you properly, instead of sending you home hurting!” she said, pushing him back on the bed so she could look at his arm. It was the same one she’d Splinched all those months ago.
Blood spattered leaves flickered in her memory and she had to shake her head to rid herself of the dark red pools.
“Let me take a look.” She went to grab his arm, but he flinched away.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” she told him firmly, having him twist his wrist for her. His hand shook a bit as he did so, the range of motion stiff and unsteady. “You need to see the Auror’s Healer tomorrow. I don’t think they healed it right.”
“Okay,” he said, a petulant set to his jaw.
“We need you in good fighting shape for the final exam.” She took his knuckle and kissed it, surprised at the ease of such a new gesture for them. “So? Tell me about today’s exam.”
“Oh, Harry told most of it,” he said, lying back on his pillow.
Harry had told the gist of it. He was good at getting across the essential information, but it wasn’t like Ron, the story-teller of their group.
Their letters were the same as when they told stories in real life: Harry was a good communicator in his letters, mostly because he was trapped with his horrid relatives and it was his only escape. Harry’s letters would tell about various happenings, but only get very detailed if there was some big mystery to unravel. Ron’s were different in every way- he’d go on into details about little interactions between gnomes, or go off about his mother’s reactions to the twin’s newest pranks— he painted a picture; personal and thoroughly engaging.
“He might have, but he wasn’t there for all the moments your teams were split up. And even if he had told us, I’d still want to hear it from you,” she said, grabbing a blanket to cover up their nearly nude states.
“Fine then,” he hummed as she settled into the spot just above his heart to listen. In this position she could feel his baritone voice rumble through her in a comforting vibration, and in the lulls of his story she could just manage to hear his heart beat, strong and steady.
His voice was quiet and low as he told her all about the Bots and the ride across the lake, then made her gasp as he told her about saving an ungrateful Ramona.
“You dove your broom into the water?”
“Well I had to if I wanted to have an intact team,” he said with a shrug that temporarily tilted her head away from him.
The horrors continued as he described the Aging Mist, but she had to admit the leftovers of it were more than intriguing.
She had never pictured Ron with a beard before and she’d have to convince him to grow it back someday. Hermione buried her head into his chest after he described the fall from the broom.
“I can’t believe they let you fall all that way! It’s completely barbaric!”
“I told them it was fucked up,” he agreed, long calloused fingers trailing along her side. “But I’m okay, minus the arm, and I passed.”
The entire picture of it left her in awe. Ron Weasley had a talent for that, though. Every time she thought he’d proven what all he could do, he’d burst through her high expectations and do something even more amazing. He never appreciated the surprise she’d show when she marvelled at him. No, she’d need to be more firm in her praise.
“I’m really proud of you.”
His eyes widened and he let out a small, “really?”
Despite his current beard, he looked so young and innocent. She thought of first year when he won points for his chess game and the look of wonder that anyone had noticed him, let alone given him attention and praise on such an epic scale.
“Yes. Your plans were brilliant, and you lead your team so well.” She’d almost wished it had been a poor fit so he wouldn’t be an Auror, but it was obvious he was a natural.
“I dunno…” he said, blushing and tucking his head down.
“I do,” she replied, curling a leg around his and bringing him in for a kiss. It began as tentative and assuring, but Ron could always be depended on to react swiftly— just like with their first kiss when she went in first— he quickly met her with passion and caught her to him. His kisses somehow improved every time and he had now mastered the art of leaving her breathless, brainless, heated and needy. He was so amazing, and kind to others and — she broke the kiss. “You weren’t supposed to be so self sacrificing!”
“Huh?” he asked her, still kiss-drunk.
“I told you I don’t want you to be a hero saving people! I wanted you to be selfish and so you’d always come back to me. That’s the plan with the Aurors!”
“I’ll try,” he said, eyes very much set on her mouth.
“Well, try harder,” she said, holding his wrist for inspection again. She absolutely despised the thought of him laying down his life for anyone, but that Ramona character was so unworthy of it she wanted to spit.
He gave a short chuckle and she scowled up at him.
“I’ll try harder, since you care so much,” he said, nudging his forehead against hers.
“You should try harder whether I care or not!” she demanded, poking his chest. To her annoyance he gave another laugh. “It’s not something you should be so cavalier about.”
“I’m not cavalier,” he said, mouth trying and failing to contain a smile.
“Take what I’m saying seriously!”
“Oh I take you more seriously than anything,” he vowed, all mock sternness as he leaned in and kissed her again.
She couldn’t stay mad as his lips moved against her own. The kisses quickly blossomed into a fevered frenzy as their bodies moved against each other in a natural rhythm. His hand sprawled the width of her back, and fingers slid up and under her bra band for a tantalising moment, before his whole arm encompassed her waist and held her closer. There was nothing like the sweet intensity of being surrounded by him, feeling his warmth and care moving against her skin.
She moved her hips forward and felt his hardness beginning to press against her.
His hands skimmed up and down her sides, just holding back from intimately grazing her breasts.
“Rooon, please just touch me,” Hermione breathed into his mouth before kissing him deeply again. She didn’t care if she sounded desperate or silly, she wanted Ron’s hands upon her. And then they were, thumbs pressing across her breasts and teasing her nipples until they stood taut and tight under her bra.
Her soft moans encouraged him, and he leaned forward, kissing his way down down her chest until he nestled up to her breast. He looked up at her for silent permission she happily gave, nodding as he gently moved the cup of her bra and took her nipple into his mouth.
Her hands trailed through his soft fiery hair. As a couple they slowly fell back into his bed. It surprised her how he could be on top but she didn’t feel smothered or crushed; he just managed to keep enough of his weight above her to make it comfortable.
His fingers trailed down to her cotton pants, just teasing the elastic.
“I want to touch you,” he whispered as two of his long calloused fingers dipped just a touch around the edge of her pants. “That okay?”
“Please,” she whimpered, not wanting him to ask anymore. She just wanted him everywhere without pause. “Do whatever you want.”
His eyebrows went up at that, and a wicked smile lit his lightly flushed face.
“Alright then,” he said, voice nearly as deep as she’d ever heard it.
He gently began to slide the pants down her legs and she quickly assisted by raising her hips. She was naked before him, but all thoughts of modesty left her as his fingers returned. With tenderness they explored her nethers, crooking and coaxing, making her let out sounds she never thought she’d be capable of that quickly. He’d definitely been paying attention the last time, because he knew every spot and angle.
“You’re so wet for me,” he moaned and she let out a gasped, “yes!”
His touch scorched and filled her with bliss until her mind was clear of anything but Ron, Ron, Ron.
“Ron!”
Then his mouth was on her clit and sucking, fingers still exploring. She gave a heady sound of approval, feeling the momentum and tightening coil in her centre. He fingered her faster, the sounds of her slickness and gasps filled the room, and with a final buck of her hips she felt the coil release. Her orgasm crashed over her, leaving her twitching around his fingers, muttering nonsense of thanks and curses as he kept pumping his fingers, slower and slower through the waves of contractions.
In an enticingly filthy moment he licked those fingers and smiled up at her.
Not giving him more than a moment to bask in his triumph, she grabbed him by the sides of his face to properly kiss. He scrambled up her body and quickly complied. His beard was wet with her, and somehow that made her even more turned on.
They kissed and she rubbed her wet fanny up and down his tented boxers, feeling the hardness pressing against her, just barely teasing her, ready to enter her if not for the boxers. They both stopped, looking down at what they were doing.
“Erm… I don’t think… Are-you-ready-for—?” he began.
“Maybe not quite yet…” she agreed.
“How about I keep my boxers on?”
Part of her wanted to see his hardness. Part of her wanted to have him take her virginity right there. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, though. Maybe she was? But it was probably better to know instead of guess. It’d be difficult to resist letting him plunge into her if he removed that last barrier.
“Okay, boxers on,” she said, moving herself back into the position they’d just been in.
She ground her hips upward, canting until he was again teasing her slickness.
“Fuck! You feel so fucking good,” Ron panted, starting to hump into her with equal fervor. “Have a perfect little pussy.”
The dirty words made her speed up her movements, and seemed to push him towards the edge as well. She kissed him again, urgent and without finesse, only passion and hunger guiding her. After only a minute or so he gave a low grunt and spent himself.
The two lay there, panting and entwined, basking and senseless, unable to think of anything to say. They were smelling of sex and had very nearly gone all the way, and she felt a sense of satisfaction that made her fall into a boneless puddle.
“Fuck me, that felt amazing,” Ron weazed, before wobbily lowering himself to give a her quick kiss. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Hermione replied, too tired to even think of cleaning up or looking for her wand. Ron was much in the same boat. He curled around her, nuzzling his face up on her naked breast.
After a few minutes he mumbled into her side, ”this is by far the best pillow I’ve ever had.”
Hermione let out a puff of a laugh. She played with his hair and stared at the ceiling, watching his posters moving. She’d nearly dozed off when he began moving. With his absence, she suddenly felt how naked and filthy she was.
She could hear the sound of him standing and watched as he removed the boxers, his cock still partially hard. She held herself back from smacking his cute bum as he leaned down to find his wand that had rolled onto the floor.
He said a few cleaning charms and the sticky wetness was gone.
“Er, maybe we should do a charm?” he said, face going a bit red.
“Charm?” Hermione dazedly asked.
“You know… the, er… contraceptive-charm,” he muttered.
“Oh yes!” she said, sitting up. They probably were safe, but it rapidly occurred to her that they were walking a precarious line, especially considering how young they were. She found her wand and did the incantation. She had Ron do it too, just in case she’d not managed it correctly.
Ron handed her the Cannons shirt a second time. This time she took it. “Don’t feel like you have to cover up, because seeing you with yours tits out is just about my favourite sight.”
“Seeing your arse is welcome too,” Hermione shyly laughed, holding the shirt to her chest.
“You like my arse?” he asked, a bit cockily as he put on some new boxers.
“I thought you already knew that,” she said, putting on the orange t-shirt. As much as she wanted to bask in Ron’s attention, she was cold and didn’t want a naked run-in the next morning with Harry or, Merlin-forbid, Mrs Weasley.
“How in the world would I?” He got into the bed and stretched out to his full length, foot going over the end of the bed. He propped his head up with one hand and stared at her expectantly.
“Back when we left Bill and Fleur’s wedding and you changed clothes and I packed your tight jeans,” she muttered, eyes fixed on the bed spread. She thought it had been obvious.
“Y’mean you did that on purpose?” She nodded, glancing up at Ron who gave a chuckle. “And here I was, miffed I couldn’t so much as shift one nut.”
“Or fit your wand,” added Hermione.
“I swear you go straight filthy after we’ve had a roll around,” he said, poking her nose.
“What did I say?” she asked, before giving a huff. “You know I meant your magic wand and not... You’re absolutely perverted!”
“Mmmhmm,” he agreed, turning the light off. “But now I know you’ve been eyeing my arse for at least ten months and even plotted to see it better. Who’s the pervert now?”
She blushed anew and curled up into her side of the bed.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he softly added. “I like knowing you thought of me like that.”
“I still do.”
“Right,” he added, giving her a small nudge. “Thanks for that.”
“I have no choice in the matter. It’s always been you,” she said with a shrug. It was an easy thing to say, for it was as true a fact as the moon circled the earth and the North Star was constant.
She heard his breath catch before resuming again. For the longest time, he didn’t reply. She was about to ask if he was asleep when she heard a quiet, “and you for me. You’ve always been my girl.”
She smiled at the thought. Niggling thoughts of his interest in Lavender, Fleur and Madame Rosmerta tried to buck their way in, but she kept them at bay knowing none of that mattered— she had Ron Weasley beside her in bed and he’d said he loved her just the other day.
As the giddiness wore off and sleep started to beckon, she realised she hadn’t put a silencing charm on herself yet. She couldn’t very well do the charm and not have an explanation in place.
“Erm, Ron?”
“Hunf?” he grogged.
“I was snoring the other night,” she lied. “You need your sleep, so I’m going to put a silencing charm on myself.”
He breathed in slow breaths of someone mostly asleep before he gave a nonsensical, “s’okay. Go backta work.”
Soon he was snoring away, somewhat muffled by the pillow he had his face buried in.
She put the spell on herself and fell asleep to the sawing snores of Ron.
Hermione woke up to a hint of sunlight warming her nose, gave a lazy stretch and looked to her side. A hint of ginger hair poked above the blanket.
She smiled and rolled over to find Crookshanks giving a large stretch before waddling her way with a small ‘mrrrrowl.’
As happy as she was to have her cat boop her with his head and purr, she had hoped to wake up to Ron. As if he knew her thoughts, Crookshanks went to the door, gave a demanding meow, and gave her a stare that clearly meant ‘now.’
She undid her silencing spell and was about to get up for the demanding feline when there was a small knock at the door.
“It’s me,” came Ron’s voice.
“Come in.”
He opened the door, bringing a plate covered in a gingham towel, and a sweet smile that made her feel a flutter in her middle. Crookshanks wound around his ankles.
“Go on, you mangy beast,” he muttered, but he had a fond smile on his face as he watched Crookshanks prance out the door.
His jaw was pink from being recently clean-shaved. She’d been fond of the beard, though she thought him every bit as handsome without it.
“It’s your room, you don’t have to knock,” she said, as he approached the bed.
“Didn’t want to interrupt you changing or something.” He blushed and gave a shrug. She ducked her head and smiled at how they were back to shy teenagers in the light of day. “Brought you breakfast.”
With a flick he removed the towel from the plate. The toast and eggs and fruit all looked and smelled perfect. Her mouth watered, but her hands clenched.
“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a bite, hand held under to catch crumbs. “Have you eaten yet?”
He nodded and put the plate on the bedside table beside her, obviously displeased that she hadn’t taken the fork and started shovelling food.
Ron went to his roll top desk and took out the book of Snatchers and his mysterious papers from the night before. Eating felt even more impossible.
He was holding the book and hadn’t seemed to realise his torturers could be in there. And she was going to let him find them without warning him. If she let him know about the Snatchers he might avoid the book altogether, and then she’d never know their identity.
“Kingsley wants us to mail this to him after?” he asked, holding up the book.
She nodded.
Ron whistled and Pig fluttered through the window.
“Dunno if he can carry the book, actually,” Ron said with a small laugh. Pig puffed up his chest and made a mad scramble for the book, enthusiastically carrying it a few feet towards the window. “Not yet, you little numpty!”
With a grunt, Ron caught the little owl from the air and the book tumbled to the ground, falling open to a page of Snatchers. Even from the bed she could see the borders of two Snatchers turn a glowing orange.
Ron stood frozen, staring at the book. His ruddy cheeks paled and his eyes widened just a hint.
Having no idea how long she would get to look at the Snatchers before their identities were lost to her, Hermione quickly bent down and picked up the book.
The two Snatchers shared the last name Crowthers. They were clearly related, even without knowing their names. They were thick-set men, with prominent jumps in their nose bridges, the same sloping heavy brows and wavy near-blonde hair that went into overgrown mutton chops. Marcellus Crowthers had a somewhat thinner neck and somewhat softer and duller look compared to his brother. Otho Crowthers looked ahead with a malevolent stare, and a cruel smirk that hinted at a cold indifference. He also had ears with overlarge cartilage around the edges. She had seen that before in a rugby match her father was watching. He called it ‘cauliflower ear’ — a deformity caused from blunt force trauma to the ear. One normally saw that in wrestlers and boxers. In this case, she imagined he’d been in many a brawl.
Ron had been silent a long time.
“The pictures glow orange if you recognise someone,” she murmured, closely watching Ron as she lifted the book up. He stared at the pictures with rapidly thinning lips. “You touch your wand to them if they committed a crime you witnessed and the border turns green. If you also think of the crimes they committed when touching the photo with your wand, it lists the crimes.”
He blinked at the page.
“I don’t need to do that.”
“No one can see it except you and the staff who are doing the trial. It’s so they know what crimes to charge them with and can ask you to be a witness if they need to. It also saves them interviewing you to know which crimes you witnessed.”
His normally expressive face dulled until he looked worn and thin as an old flag about to rip in the wind.
Without saying a word he took his wand out and held it to the book.
As the pictures budged over for the text she saw Marcellus’s photo did not need much space for whatever he’d done. Otho Crowthers, on the other hand, needed photos to move and make way for the invisible list of his crimes.
She was going to find him and hurt that man. It wasn’t a question in her mind. She’d have to, for whatever he’d done to Ron. She’d kept that Skeeter woman in a jar for weeks, and cursed Marietta Edgecomb’s face for crimes that now seemed so small by comparison. Yes, Otho Crowthers was going to pay; in blood if she could make it happen.
Ron stared at the text she couldn’t see, face horribly devoid of emotion.
When he’d stared at it for over a minute she finally spoke.
“Harry and I found Fenrir and a few of the Snatchers that got us before Malfoy Manor,” she quietly told him. “Are these some of the Snatchers you came across last winter?”
He nodded and gave a rough swallow. “Yeah.”
She had to remind herself that she didn’t ‘officially know’ what had happened to him. He hadn’t told her yet. She couldn’t force him to talk about it now; not when he was staring at those faces; not when he had a career dependent test that evening and needed his wits about him.
She needed to lighten the mood somehow, but had no gift in that. Distraction was all she could think to do.
“These eggs look perfect. I suppose Ginny didn’t cook.”
“No,” he said with a wane perfunctory smile, obviously made for her sake.
“Your mum?”
“Mhmm,” he replied, turning the page so harshly he almost tore it. With purpose, he turned to the S names, scanning with his finger until he found a man named Stennis Smythe.
“You know their names?” she asked in astonishment.
“Only the three.” He quickly touched the photo of Smythe with his wand and photos moved a bit for the invisible list of crimes to form. It wasn’t quite as long as Otho Crowthers’, but it was close.
He silently searched through the book until he’d found three more figures he went through so fast she barely had time to see their photos; a gaunt bald man, a man with a dark beard, and a small round-faced man.
“I thought there were five of them, not six,” she said, as he went back to Greyback and others she was familiar with.
“One of them was unconscious by the time I was escaping, so it was five of them versus me,” he said shortly, finishing up the book, putting a feather-light spell on it, and holding it out for Pig. “Take this to Kingsley.”
Pig seemed to sense Ron’s unease, and landed on his shoulder, leaning in to him until his little owl head was resting on his owner’s jaw.
“Thanks, little guy,” said Ron, giving the small bird a small tickle on his chest.
With a tiny hoot, Pig leapt down and took the book, over compensating for what he thought would be a heavy book, and nearly hitting himself on the ceiling. He regained his flight path, and made his way out the window.
They both watched the owl until he was gone.
“Are you alright?” she quietly asked Ron.
“What?” he asked in return, looking back at her. “Oh— Oh yeah I’m fine.”
He had just lied through his teeth, putting on a grimace of a smile. “Now that’s all over and done with, I’d like to show you something.”
She felt nervous as he guided her to sit, but was still standing himself. His hands nervously fiddled with the edge of the papers. After having to hold her tongue with the Snatchers book, she had little patience for whatever surprise he was going to spring on her.
“So…” he said, rocking back on his heels a moment and biting his lip, eyes fixed on the papers. “I was looking for a quill and ink the other day and needed to borrow some from you. You and I definitely need to do some quill shopping later— I know, it’s not book shopping, but it’s still one of your favourites…”
He glanced up at her, clearly trying to soften her up. She raised her eyebrows in a sign for him to continue.
“Yeah, right… Erm…” he coughed. “I didn’t mean to pry, but in your bag I found your notes about finding your parents.”
She suddenly felt cold.
“So I went and talked to Percy because he’s in charge of family reunification. There’s a discretionary fund for helping with the costs of it, like portkeys and travel expenses, and I told him everything I knew about your parents and their new names and their jobs and— and then he came to me today at the Auror office after the exam and… Hermione, they’ve found your parents.”
She stared at him, mouth agape, brain staggered as well as if she’d been hit over the head with a frying pan. She could feel her brain trying to restart, emotions trying to flicker to life, actions trying to animate her. She could flee the room she was so overwhelmed, or she could angrily hex him for his interference, or rain down hugs and kisses upon him until he was absolutely smothered in love.
She settled on bursting into tears.
“I’m sorry!” he said, quickly hovering his hands over her, seemingly not sure where to place them. “Did I— Should I not have done that? I’m so sorry. I just wanted to help, and—”
“Ron—” she began, but her sobs choked and overwhelmed any words.
“If you don’t want the Ministry’s money, it’s okay! I got that job at the Pub so I could save up some money to help you,” he reached under his bed and took out a bag filled with Muggle cash, putting it on her lap. “So I can help pay for that! And then there’s the Auror signing bonus— y’know, if I pass—” he said in a low voice.
He shook his head, undeterred. “So we can make this happen. However you want. I just want you to be happy, and thought this might help, but now you’re crying and—”
“Ron Weasley!” she wetly cried through a sob.
He wilted in front of her.
“You… You high handed…” He flinched. “Perfectly wonderful man.”
He looked up, mouth a perfectly open ‘o.’
“You’re… you’re not mad?” he asked, peering hopefully at her.
Unable to articulate the roiling emotions, she shook her head and continued to sob, hands curling around the wads of money he’d laid in her lap.
“We’ll get you your parents back and we’ll make everything okay again,” he said, putting his much larger hands on hers. “Right after my C.R.E.s are done, we can go, if you want.”
She nodded, though a gravid feeling of dread began to grow in her gut at the thought of seeing her parents so soon. She wasn’t ready, but she was too much of a shamed coward to say so out loud.
Instead she let Ron hold her hands as she cried. She cried for how much she loved Ron and how kind and wonderful he was. She cried in relief that she didn’t have to get money or resources to find her parents. And she cried knowing that when she brought back their memories they’d finally be lost to her for good.
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author’s notes:
A special thank you to everyone who took the time to write a comment! Y'all are so thoughtful and I thoroughly appreciate you all so much. You keep me inspired! :D Let me know what you thought.
ETA- forgot to add link to the duelling stuff about Ron- one of my fave metas and I had to insert it somewhere in here
Chapter warnings: depressed/anxious/scattered thinking, character ‘death’, description of blood and wounds, explicit sex scene, swearing
If you want to skip the explicit sex scene, but not accidentally miss anything, here are the words to stop and start at:
STOP AT: 'The kisses quickly blossomed into a fevered frenzy as their bodies moved against each other in a natural rhythm.'
START AGAIN AT: 'The two lay there, panting and entwined, basking and senseless, unable to think of anything to say.'
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Romantic Fantasy & Fantasy Romance Book Recs
I recently made a post looking for the book/reader community on Tumblr and I found a lot of you! A couple people asked for book recommendations so here they are. All of these have varying levels of spice unless otherwise mentioned. I do recommend going into all of these blind and just see if you like them with zero expectations. I find it makes the reading experience better if you aren’t expecting something to be the greatest thing ever. Then you can only be surprised if you like it (or hopefully love it!) All of these are fantasy romance!!
Tagging some peeps who said they also love fantasy romance or seemed like they would like to know about some book recs: @imhilien @raven-reads87 @accidentalspaceexplorer @the-dust-jacket @melindacopp @taylorsversion213 @siruisreader @faerie-smut-merchant @gwelwynn @hitchhikerbooks @astrid162 @arewedancer99 @bookwyrmtaz @sourpatchkid99 @caffeinated-bibliophile @books-and-cookies @eaterofbooks @franticvampirereads @carissabroadbent - sorry if I forgot anyone or if you did not want to be tagged. Happy reading!
- Daughter of No Worlds, the first book in The War of Lost Hearts trilogy by Carissa Broadbent. You’ve got grumpy/sunshine, badass female protagonist, a “who did this to you?” scene, and so much more!! It’s dark but still has so much love and is just. So, so good. I will never shut up about how much I adore this criminally underrated series. There is absolutely nothing I disliked about this book. This is my favorite trilogy ever, up there tied with my favorite series ever. There’s no miscommunication and the characters handle hard situations maturely. It’s dark at times and deals with slavery, torture, and the injustices that entails, but it’s also empowering and full of hope and funny quips. The characters are lovable and complex. The pacing is the best pacing of any book. The romance is sweet yet still full of tension. The plot is incredible. I cannot recommend this book enough. It flawlessly balances the mundanity of living with the largeness of this universe and literal world ending stakes. She balances joy and grief, laughter and sorrow, trauma and healing. It’s a true feat when your heart aches with all of it at the same time. Each book is incredible. The character I was hesitant to love in the first book had me sobbing with the realism and heartache that I felt for her in the last book. If you listen to the audiobook, the narrators were perfectly cast as well. Tisaanah, the FMC has a language barrier and it’s done so incredibly well, especially when listening to the audiobook. It remains one of my favorite things about Daughter of No Worlds. This series is criminally underrated and I will never understand how it isn’t at the top of booktok. 12/10, move this up to the top of your TBR. Each book is just as good as the one before it. I’m obsessed with this series. This series is on KU!! It’s a completed trilogy!!
- The Bridge Kingdom by Danielle L Jenson. And it’s included in your Audible Plus subscription if you have one. The tension, the conflict, the romance. I love a morally grey mc as much as the next gal, but Aren is the equivalent of a golden retriever and I would die for him and Laura. Enemy kingdoms. Marriage. A perfect Enemies to lovers!! Also on KU!! Completed duology, with a third book focusing on a different couple.
- The Witch Collector by Charissa Weaks. This is one of the best fantasy romances I’ve read! The FMC is a mute witch!! The plot, the tension, the characters, all of it is amazing. I fell in love with these characters and this world. Not to mention the ✨sexual tension✨ is some of the best I’ve ever read. It’s well earned too! Alexus and Raina have made my list of favorite ships. The sequel, City of Ruin, introduced a bunch of new characters and POVs (including the villains!) is a lot spicier, and just overall expands the world and the characters!! It’s action packed and made me look at the series in a new light! It does end on a major cliffhanger though, so be aware! Still read it. But it’s not tied up with a bow (yet!) I cannot express how excited I am for the third book and the direction this story is going. Highly, highly recommend! She also has signed copies on her Etsy!
- The Scribe by Elizabeth Hunter! This is a completed urban fantasy with romance series with 7 books. The first 3 books follow the same couple and can be read as a completed series - the other books focus on different couples and are just an extension. A race of beings ascended from angels are at war. Our main protagonist Ava is a human photojournalist who has heard voices in a nonexistent language her whole life and has always been told and believed she’s just crazy…but is she?? I love when we get a character thrown into a fantasy world who has no knowledge of it (like the reader!) it’s so fun. The romance is 🔥🔥🔥 and I love them. Ava is smart and savvy but not otherworldly strong like a lot of protagonists. She’s learning. And MAGIC! I love magic. I love the magic in this universe. The pacing is great and it’s a great balance of romance and plot. It’s a super interesting premise and I just think more people should read this series. I do not recommend the audiobook through - I hated the narrator. Book is great though! Also on KU!!
- I’ve found that whichever SJM series you start with is your favorite but Throne of Glass is next level. It was her first series and she spent half of her life writing it. You can see some of the groundwork for ACOTAR in it. But where ACOTAR is about the romance, ToG is about the plot. The romances are secondary to the plot. But for ACOTAR, the plot is secondary to the relationships and romance. ToG is so expertly planned out and it’s a slow burn into fantasy. It’s my number 1, favorite series. It’s definitely more YA but grows into what I would consider more New Adult towards the end of the series. Do not go into this series expecting spice. There is romance, but there are not any spicy scenes until the later books. The journey you go on with Celaena from Assassin’s Blade to Kingdom of Ash is unparalleled. It feels so special and epic. BUT I will say I went into the series completely blind with no expectations. So I suggest doing the same. And the first few books might seem slow. But KEEP GOING it’s worth it, I swear. And start with the prequel Assassin’s Blade!! It’s broken up into interconnected short novellas for the prequel only. The series has a more full circle feeling when you start with the prequel, and you don’t know things that you might otherwise know if you read Throne of Glass first. Starting with the prequel also made me love Celaena more. If you are just starting fantasy, start with Throne of Glass because it is a slow burn into fantasy. This is a completed series
- The Song of the Marked by S.M. Gaither. I was told this book would cure my Throne of Glass hangover. I’d agree! It also gives me major From Blood and Ash vibes, but with better characters. It’s got a great magic system, fun friendship dynamics and banter, a slow burn enemies to lovers, and some good ol’ fashion mystery surrounding the protagonist. I’m really enjoying it so far and if you like fantasy, I highly recommend!!
- Hollow Heathens (Tales of Weeping Hollow) by Nicole Fiorina - it’s like if Halloweentown met Storybrooke from Once Upon a Time, and had a child. It’s a gothic romance and is just so different from everything I’ve read. Also on KU!! This is a standalone.
- The North Wind by Alexandria Warwick. It’s a fun enemies to lovers Beauty and the Beast and Hades and Persephone retelling. Mix elements of those stories together and you have The North Wind. Also on KU!! Can be read as a stand-alone. The next book, which isn’t out yet, focuses on a different couple.
- An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir. You’ve got a spy posing as a slave to save her brother. A trained assassin brought up in a merciless, brutal school where he wants to escape. There’s a love triangle of sorts, which I usually hate but I didn’t mind it in this! It’s action packed and has made me love YA again. Dark, with themes of generational trauma, the importance of storytelling, the ✨power of love✨, breaking generational cycles, mercy, and tragedy of war. Lots of character growth for everyone!! Inspired by the gladiator times in the Roman Empire. Young Adult but very violent. No spice, all fade to black.
- The Serpent and The Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent!! I had high expectations for this book. Carissa’s other series, The War of Lost Hearts, is my favorite series ever. And now with one book out so far, Crown of Nyaxia is making that list too. The world building. The characters. The complexity and emotions and just everything about it. It’s a masterpiece. I love the relationships!! And the last quarter of the book had me on an emotional rollercoaster through the end. I wanted to reread this book the moment I finished it. If a dark, gritty, high stakes fantasy romance with Hunger Games meets vampires and swoon worthy, epic romance (and some spice!!) sounds like your thing, drop everything else your reading and start this. This is the first book in a series and was just released. Carissa is my favorite author and one thing that she does really well is write strong, healthy relationships. Her characters don’t fall into lust and then in love - it’s a buildup of respect, trust, friendship, and then love. (And 🌶️🌶️ of course, but the relationships are more than that.) Raihn is my new #1 book boyfriend!!
- The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy by Megan Bannen is a new comfort read for me. but if you want a super fun, quirky, romance with You’ve Got Mail vibes set in a fantasy universe that also has zombie like creatures, this is it. I know that sounds weird af, but it is so cute and I can’t stop smiling as I read it!! It’s a new favorite and is just SO CUTE! And I cried!!
- A Deal With the Elf King by Elise Kova! This is a standalone, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage fantasy romance!! I love all the characters in this, especially the growth of the MMC! The FMC feels a lot of responsibility to take care of everyone around her and she doesn’t allow others to disrespect her (especially the MMC!) There are lots of swoon worthy lines that had me smiling and blushing and some spice! Highly recommend!!
- The High Mountain Court by A.K. Mulford. It has witches, fae, a fun magic system, mates, natural LGBTQIA+ and POC representation, spicy, enemies to lovers, touch her and die (and the opposite touch him and die!), a truly wonderful and swoon worthy romance, and is just a great NA fantasy romance! Each book focuses on a different couple and follows a cohesive storyline!
- Between Wrath and Mercy by Jess Wisecup. You’ve got a mom hellbent on getting her kidnapped teenage daughter back. She needs the help of the Crown Prince - her first love - to do it. A spicy fantasy romance that is both character driven and plot driven. It’s so refreshing to read “older” (ie not 16 - 25 years old) characters in a fantasy romance!! The tension is high and the grief and love that intermingle to form the emotional backbone of these characters is so poignant and beautifully done. It’s also nice to see a mom who has an identity outside of being a mom! But she’s still a great mom! It was so refreshing to read and the second book is even better than the first! Very dark and yet also sweet and romantic and intense.
- The Cruel Prince by Holly Black! Also known as The Folk of the Air trilogy. If you’re looking for a spicy fantasy series, this isn’t it. There’s no spice. But if you’re looking for an AMAZING YA fantasy villain arc with enemies to lovers, fantastic storytelling, plot twists, and just an overall faerie adventure, read this series. I was hesitant to read it because of its YA rating/audience. But it’s easily one of my favorite series of all time! I love the characters, the plot, the arc, and the writing style! I read each book in less than two days. Highly, highly recommend. I also read them on audiobook and the narration is fantastic!
#booklr#book community#bookblr#daughter of no worlds#carissa broadbent#sjm#sarah j maas#throne of glass#acotar#aelin galathynius#the song of the marked#the bridge kingdom#danielle l jensen#the traitor queen#the witch collector#charissa weaks#the scribe#irin chronicles#elizabeth hunter#s.m. gaither#sm gaither#nicole fiorina#hollow heathens#the north wind#alexandria warwick#an ember in the ashes#the serpent and the wings of night#crowns of nyaxia#the undertaking of hart and mercy#megan bannen
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@corneliaavenue-ao3 ‘s Several Sunlit Daylights
Evermore: no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)
Ginny came back from her dinner with her friend Este. Harry was just sitting in the living of their new house, reading a book that Ginny told him to read. Or forced him, he wasn’t sure. He heard the door open went to the entrance.
“Hey,” he greeted her with a kiss. “How was it?”
“It was fine,” she said, looking rather worried.
Harry furrowed his brows. “What’s wrong?”
Ginny took a deep breath. “Este’s been worried about some stuff.”
“Like what?”
“She think her husband is cheating on her.”
Harry blinked. “What?” Harry had met the guy before. He seemed very nice and treated Este well. He was shocked.
“She said she looked through their joint account, some Muggle bank thing, and found jewellery that wasn’t hers. And he comes back home with his hair a mess and even his shirt was once untied.”
“Oh, it smells like infidelity.”
Ginny nodded. “I think we should help her. We have to do something, she looks stressed.”
Harry agreed with her and Ginny told him some things that definitely screamed cheater. There wasn’t any doubt, he thinks they have to call him out.
I think he did it, but I just can’t prove it.
The next week, when Ginny called Este to meet up again, she didn’t pick up. Ginny got very worried and told Harry. She saw that Harry also looked confused.
“Do you think something happened?” Ginny asked anxiously.
“I hope not.”
Ginny then got the news from Este’s ‘husband’ that she was missing and Ginny’s heart shattered. She got see a glint in her husband’s eye that wasn’t tears or worry. There was just nothing.
This irked Ginny more than she cared to admit.
One day she was walking past his house and saw his car had some brand new tires. However, that wasn’t the only thing she noticed when she saw his bedroom window was open and she could see a girl that was definitely not Este.
Ginny’s heart stopped and she felt her anger rising. She hurried back home to Harry.
She burst through the door and Harry jumped.
“He did it! Este’s husband did it! I saw him with another girl!”
Harry stood up straight. “We have to do something, Ginny.”
“We just need to prove it.”
I think he did it, but I just can’t prove it.
Good thing Harry and Ginny are trained to handle bad guys. They have their wands on them and their cloaks ready with every spell in their mind.
Good thing they’ve cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene.
Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with us. She’s in on it.
Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy.
They enter his house stealthily, quietly, trying not to cause much disturbance. They stayed close to each other and went upstairs to their bedroom where Little Mister Cheater was staying.
He yelled when he saw them with wands out and anger on their faces.
“Don’t yell, no one can hear you,” Ginny said, annoyed. “So bloody loud.” Harry chuckled at her.
“What are you doing in my house!?” He asked, scared.
“To avenge our best friend,” Harry started. “Este.” All the colour drained from his face.
“By killing you,” Ginny smiled. Harry couldn’t help but grin at her. She was dangerous.
The Cheater started breathing heavily. “Ugh, please don’t freak out this is gonna take longer.” Ginny said sitting on the bed.
“We still have to torture you.” Harry shot a spell at him which made him fall to the ground in pain.
“Nice one, darling,” Ginny said, getting up. “My turn.” She pointed her wand at him and came closer and shot another one.
He lie there, squirming in pain, begging for mercy, all that boring stuff. “Someone needs to shut you up,” Harry said.
“Ooh, can I?” Ginny asked.
“Of course,” Harry said, putting his hand under her chin. Her turned to the Cheater on the floor. “My gorgeous wife over here is gonna finish you off. Have fun in hell.”
Ginny laughed and pointed the wand at him again. “Bye-bye,” she waved and then he was gone.
Once they were back in the house, Harry turned to Ginny. “You’re so dangerous. Smiling while torturing someone.”
“He deserved it,” she said.
“He did. Not to mention you looked beautiful today.” He got closer to her.
Ginny laughed. “I bet you like how dangerous I am.”
“Oh, I do.”
Kiss after kiss after kiss. Este’s avenged, her husband’s finally dead and his mistress is being blamed for it.
Perfect.
She thinks I did it, but she just can’t prove it.
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My Review For HOFAS
Ik I forgot to post my review for hofas so here it is. Buckle up its long.
Anyway I LOVED it , as expected. There were some scenes and plot points that I wished were more fleshed out but hey I'm happy with what I got.
What I loved about the book :-
• The story - The book was worth it just for the lore and worldbuilding. It had all the shades of dark and white. And somehow it felt easier to catch up with what's going on compared to hoeab and hosaf where I was clueless lol.
• Crossover - I am so glad that acotar characters didn't overshadow cc ones. I was afraid acotar characters will be given more attention/time than necessary and that didn't happen. Even when they appeared Sarah balanced it with CC's which for me was one of the best moves. She wanted us to realize it's a CC book first and for most.
• Tharion's and Ithan's povs - Now this is something I never thought would happen. I didn't like much of Tharion and Ithan in the previous books but boy did I enjoy reading their thoughts on this one. Their chapters were better than I hoped and I could understand their feelings and reasoning better which I didn't before. Also can we talk about T & S and I & P? That was one of the pairs I did not see coming and I am so on board!
• Characters - I felt the characters were much more fleshed out (even the acotar ones, I mean NESTA HELLO?!?!!). Lidia my baby, Ruhn my da- I mean my another baby, Hunt, Baxian, Tristan, Declan, Tharion, Ithan every single character was more fleshed out and I feel like they got the attention and love they deserved. And the torture scenes? The part where Baxian had to do that to Ruhn? Hunt thinking about Bryce and Lidia's kids? MY HEART DIED AT THAT SCENES!
Now on to my issues :-
• I'm gonna be honest some plot points was a little convenient and felt unnecessary. Like the seed, antidote. It was just too easy? And what was the point of Ariadne and her scenes? Ingrid at least I can say that it was to show Ithan and readers and everyone that not every prime needs to be a Fendyr? But Ariadne? Her scenes counted to nothing. I wished we got more of her.
• Sometimes Bryce came off as a little off putting with her reaction to Hunt's trauma.
Now on to the bonus chapters
• First my favorite Bryce & Hunt POV - Just straight up fluff which I DEVOURED!! Hunt getting scared of Lettuce baby, them celebrating together it was everything my soft heart needed.
• Ruhn & Lidia POV - Again my heart MELTED! I can't believe Sarah wrote a wedding scene 😭
• Bryce, Nesta & Azriel POV - What I got from that was that Azriel is a lightsinger. I mean why else would shadows dance with someone's singing when according to the canon that we got from nowhere, Shadows singing is a bad thing (I'm really sorry I had to 😭). It was nice seeing Nesta, Bryce and Azriel bond over their love for music.
• Bryce & Danika POV - Now I'm gonna be honest it's my least favorite pov but I'm glad we got it at the same time. We finally get to glimpse a little part of Danika we didn't usually gets.
• Ember & Randall POV - Listen I'm not going to form my opinions on any characters based on some pages but Rhys did come off as a little bad and not in a good way. I understand that he and others as well as Nesta had a valid reason for doing what they did but jeez
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Watching Breaking Dawn Part 2, the mixed bag of all mixed bags. Slow as molasses and boring as hell, but most of the cringey lines have all but vanished and there is (some) competency in (some) of the filmmaking. Let me count the ways…
Bella spoke literally 1 word after her transformation. In the books, she said “I love you.” In the movie, “Renesmee.” Fine, except she doesn’t say “I love you” to Edward…le sigh.
Man, BD is really where they decided to say “fuck it” and ditch the unnatural pallor of the vampires, because Vampire Bella does not look at all different from Human Bella (okay, granted, her wardrobe is subtly different, but not by much). It’s a tribute to Stewart’s acting that you can even register a massive change
The Loch Ness Monster scene began okay/funny and then it was ruined re: 1) Bella punching Jacob (just no) 2) actually showing Bella hitting poor Seth and 3) actually keeping the somber tone. Lighten up, movie! What’s with this movie series and making the fun parts of the book so damn dull?
Not Jacob phasing just a few feet from Charlie and the movie making it so dramatic with a growly wolf when phasing is almost instantaneous and Jacob is in complete control of his wolf form 😑
The little girl actress for Renesmee is adorable. Such a relief after the horrors of the CGI baby.
Garrett’s “British invasion” introduction is hilarious, 💯 Good job, movie
Vladimir and Stefan are Vampire Diaries-rejects horrors, though. 🤮 They are literally thousands of years old and yet look like they just came from Hot Topic. Ew, ew, ew
Bella’s shield special effect…yuck, yuck, yuck. Why couldn’t they do it like Harry Potter did the wards? That wasn’t too bad. So damn corny
Wow, they robbed poor J. Jenks of any and all personality, didn’t they? His parts were actually one of the best of the books for me. They felt mature, like actual adult instead of YA. Instead, it’s all blah. Also, no oyster satin cocktail dress!! The one time Bella chooses to dress up and chose her own dressy clothing, showing her maturity and arc!!!! Meanwhile they just garb Stewart in a really modern dress that barely looks different than her usual outfits!!! Damn it, movie!!!!
Edward: “To think, all of these people are risking their lives because I fell in love with a human.” What. The. Fuck Movie????? In what universe would Edward even think this???? The Screenwriter Cannot Write Edward Cullen For Shit Number 383782838
Edward: “I never thanked you, Carlisle. For this extraordinary life.” Okay, so the script has (1) braincell regarding his arc, no doubt because Meyer was there as producer. Too bad it does a piss-poor job of showing it
“The redcoats are coming, the redcoats are coming.” Garrett, as always, is the best.
Aro: “Ahh…Young Bella.” 🇮🇹 Also, why does he sound like he wants to fuck Bella? Why that particular relish in his line reading?
No one: Not a soul: Look how nothing this nothing is: Aro: *weird ass high-pitched ahahhehhaggahahah sound* And of course it’d be in response to *just* noticing Renesmee’s heartbeat when every vampire can and should hear it immediately. 🤦♀️
I like how Patt!Edward has to stumble a bit and then fall whenever Jane is torturing him. And by like I mean hate with all the fervor of my being. By that token, I also “like” Jane literally saying “Pain”
They introduce Alice returning so casually…where is the tension, Alice’s O.S. voice, everyone turning, all the “Alices”? Nope, just a brief distance shot. There she is! Smh
I hate the fake-out fight scene of Alice’s vision
I hate the fake-out fight scene of Alice’s vision
I hate the fake-out fight scene—
Okay, so regardless of what you feel about the lack of battle scenes in Breaking Dawn…it did make sense. There was no way for any semblance of a happy ending to occur had the Volturi decided to come to blows. Full-on mask off isn’t their MO anyway. The way the trial scene (yes, it is basically a trial à la Merchant of Venice) was set up, with witnesses and objections and the like, made sense and the tension was riveting. Also, in bringing Nahuel Alice foiled any rationale for the Volturi’s planned takeover, so there was absolutely no need for the canon-breaking vision
Second of all, a fake-out scene is much more disappointing and/or infuriating than the book’s scene. All of that tragedy and death and it just turns out to be fake? Fuck that. But ofc movie has to movie for the dudebros in the audience (!!) despite the fact that this series has and always was a romance first
Third of all, the way it was all executed…Bella not being an immediate target even though the Volturi must at least suspect her shield is so damn convenient. Babe, she would have been one of the firsts to go. Other bad shit: Edward leaping out of the crater, his skirmish with Aro…bleugh
Okay, there are some good parts: The Bella-Jane stand-off, Seth’s death, Leah saving Esme (good callback), Marcus’s “Finally” (in-character). But it’s just not worth it
The way they garbed Nahuel…it may be well-researched for all I know, but knowing Hollywood, I highly doubt it. As it is, it looks grossly stereotypical to me
Oh, God, the script for Nahuel’s part is so little emotive, it’s like a summary. Nothing compared to the book. He had such personality and the way he spoke of his father…you could just taste the drama
“We will not fight…today.” Movie-verse only, but I do have to wonder if Meyer will ever bring the Volturi back and have them kill off some characters. Not really the type of author to do this, though
And of course they have to have a moment between Bella and Wolf!Jacob for no good reason, even though Jacob should be all about the Renesmee now. Nope, the movies are still on their Bella/Jacob bullshit
“So should I call you Dad now?” Yes, feed the antis, movie.
Speaking of feeding the antis, Alice’s vision of Jacob/Renesmee!!! I know the movie threw out the whole Alice-cannot-see-werewolves-or-hybrids out the window just from the fake-fight alone, but ugh. Ugh. Meanwhile Book!Jacob literally did not give a fuck either way about Renesmee coming of age in 7 years
The actress for Adult Renesmee looks really nice, though. I’ll give it that
That Bella-shows-Edward her thoughts montage was nicely edited, with good transitions. But unfortunately it reminds me of all the bad directorial choices of the prior movies and so alas it’s just cringe to me
Book!Edward after Bella shows him his thoughts: hfgkzoycychohh!!!!! 🥵🥵🥵🥵 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️Movie!Edward: How did you do that? 😑 Fuck you too, movie
I probably should feel something about the credits montage…but I don’t. They include everyone, even minor characters!!!! Please…just don’t
#cristina watches#breaking dawn#twilight#twilight saga#the movies brings all the antis to the yard#like ants to a discarded milkshake#there are critics of the books ofc#but the worst offenses are the movies
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if you had to pick a fav chapter out of any of the books, which would it be? (you can do one per book and/or multiple chapters lol just curious)
im answering this on mobile so if the formatting is fucked im sooooooooo sorry 😭 OK one per book here i go!!
cinder: the chapter where kai gifts her the silk gloves! mostly because during my reread i COMPLETELY FORGOT that this chapter happened and omfg the KAIDER in this scene was so intense. like kai’s thoughtfulness of the gift…like he never pushes her to take off her gloves but instead gifts her gloves that make her feel not only safe, but beautiful. literally on the verge of tears thinking about that scene because it was so tender and beautiful and like a testament of how much he thinks and CARES about cinder…also its his way of showing how much it matters to him that she attends the ball. like that scene makes me wanna SCREAM AND CRY AND CURL UP INTO A BALL!!! especially because of its cruel bittersweetness like kaider angst hits like nothing else…like i love kaider fluff but their angst…theres something in the sauce with them
scarlet: one chapter is so cruel for this one like the plot development in this book is probably the best bc of its pacing IMO like there are so many moments across the book that really make it SHINE BUT if its only one chapter it has to be the opening chapter where scarlet (bad bitch) gets up on the tavern bar and defends cinder!!! she is the ONLY character that takes into consideration and expresses empathy for cinder and her AGE and NEVER holds her cyborg or lunar status against her!!!! also the shirt comment in front of wolf is LMFAOOOOOOO LIKE NOBODY SAID THAT!!!!! but that is my favorite chapter. marissa meyer put her wrussy (writer pussy) into that one
cress: during my original read this was my FAVORITE but on reread this is now my least favorite book! too much cresswell not enough scarlet/winter or scarlet/wolf content. like marissa meyer did a great job giving us kaider angst and mutual pining but absolutely FLOPPED on the wolflet front like cmon girl. FAVORITE CHAPTER HMMMMMMMM its the one where cinder tortures thaumaturge sybil! its a testament to her growth and mastery of her glamour like she really is so powerful! i wished she used it more in winter TBH but yeah her torturing sybil was soooo satisfying and i wish she did it more. like she really is the GOAT
winter: okay this is gonna sound crazy but its tie between cinder throwing herself off the ledge into artemesia lake and cinder getting stabbed in the heart. I CAN EXPLAIN 😭 I AM NOT CRAZY!!! cinder herself off the ledge is absolutely FUCKING insane i won’t lie it makes me giggle cause like GIRL I GET IT BUT THROWING YOURSELF OFF A 5+ STORY BUILDING WAS NOT THE ANSWER!!!!! IT REALLY KILLED ME READING THAT LIKE CAN YOU IMAGINE WITNESSING YOUR GF THROW HERSELF INTO DEATH LIKE THAT….OKAY FOR THE OTHER SCENE i loved the cinder being stabbed in the heart scene which sounds SO fucked up but i liked it because marissa meyer did a phenomenal job carrying cinder’s voice and depicting the absolute exhaustion that cinder felt during that moment. like cinder was TIRED like she’s BEEN THRU IT!!! her getting stabbed in the heart was really a culmination of this pattern where cinder expresses kindness and forgiveness to those who’ve deeply harmed her and her showing levana empathy even after levana tried to MURDER her and everyone cinder loved is so…cinder is so selfless and loving and her getting stabbed was peak heartbreak (which i realize is a pattern. i loveeeee suffering) but also i desperately want to know how/why kai left behind the earthen leaders and how he FUCKING FOUND HER SO QUICKLY! also the fact that her last sight is of the boy she loved but she felt could never have just really makes me burst into tears like cinder baby girl if only knew how much YOU (not your princess or queen or fugitive status) were worth it to kai and everyone in the rampion crew GAH IM CRYING I JUST LOVE HER SO MUCH!!
I SOUND SOOOOO UNHINGED BUT THESE ARE MY FAVORITE CHAPTERS <3 CINDER BABY GIRL I LOVE YOU. i just love so crazy quickly deteriorating from wholesome kaider/wolflet to cinder just…suffering LMFAO
thank you for the ask!! <3
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TGCF SPOILERS HAHAHAHA :(
So.
Yesterday was a day.
What happened post reading;
Shut my laptop, and started scrolling through tumblr. Its been 30 mins but I haven't liked or reblogged anything. I'm just scrolling and scrolling and my mind is absolutely blank. Nothing is registering. (Denial)
After I while I turn off my phone too and just sat.
My sister asks me if I'm ok. I respond, "Ya, of course, why wouldn't I be?" She gives me a look, "You're crying."
I'm obviously shocked cuz I didn't even register I was crying and I'm like NO lol I'm not crying What are you talking about?? (Anger) Except now I'm full on crying (depression) but it was so weird cuz my eyes were crying but I was laughing SO HARD, like I couldn't stop laughing, and I'm like wtff??? THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING FUNNY???? and so to distract myself, I searched up why in the absolute hell was I laughing so hard when my heart was literally squeezing in pain cuz like THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE?? (Bargaining)
Anyways, I found smt interesting; an article that discussed a study done on opposing emotions, why people say "Aww it's so cute, I want to squeeze it sooo hard', or start laughing when they are nervous, or laugh while crying, and it was really cool what they said;
"If you get into a very high or very low emotion that you're almost to the point of being overwhelmed, you become incapacitated so you can't function well,” Aragón tells me. “Emotional homeostasis is important for people so they can be in control of their cognitive, social, and psychological functions."
In other words, people may laugh when they’re nervous in order to moderate their nervous feelings; likewise, people may cry when they’re happy to recover from distracting giddiness."
Def an eye opener for me cuz I'm just not a crying type of person and I was literally so confused lol But I didn't know this was thing til yesterday so I was likke ohh I should share this!
Anyways, I'm going to be make this post reflect EXACTLY how I felt yesterday lmaooo (acceptance)
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You know that feeling of dread? That looming, heavy weight that you feel on your shoulders as you watch and you watch and you know what's going to happen and as each scene unfolds, it starts making sense and that dread turns into down right horror and all you can do is helplessly watch....
Am I talking about me or Hua Cheng???? Perhaps both :(
I think that anxiousness had started building up when Mu Qing left and I felt so angry but it's like how can you blame him? But the absolute respect I got for this funky lil dude when he comes back with bags of rice and money and I'm I LOVE YOUUU SO MUCHHH YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS AHHH I LOVE YOUUUU
(You too, Feng Xin efbfjefjn I literally want to shrink them and put them in my pocket and protect them from the evil, mean, scary world)
ok...now for the actual stuff......
What absolutely fascinates me is that I have come across so many villains from innumerable books, shows, and movies and I have seen stupid villains, pitiable villains, and down-right psycho ones too, but something about White No-Face hits different.
This is a villain that is truly terrifying. A villian that truly understands what it means to destroy someone. And no, it's not about killing their loved ones, it's not about physical torture, it's about breaking the person inside out. It's about ripping their soul out and gently putting it back, only for them to rip it out with even more viciousness. It's about taking away the one thing that keeps anyone alive...hope. I'm reminded of an arabic proverb that I heard once and really stuck with me;
What is worse than death is that which makes you wish for death.
I think every painful moment in TGCF just embodies this quote so well; when Xianle falls, when Windmaster is confronted with the truth, and now the temple scene and it literally hurts so much to read it and it's so lovely and beautiful how MXTX writes scenes that make you FEEL exactly what the people you are reading about feel.
Like yes Xie Lian was screaming 'It hurts' but I can guarantee that EVERY reader also felt the same as they read that part.
And what makes White No Face terrifying is that he KNOWS his subject, knows him so well, that he first takes away what's beloved to him, which is his kingdom, then his godhood, then his friends, and the final straw? His parents. He breaks him and breaks til there is nothing left to break and then rebuolds it just enough to break it again. He takes away his sanity so agonizingly slowly and you just want to scream as you just watch the descent into hell occur...
Could it be that Feng Xin couldn’t see the mask on his face in the mirror at all?!
Xie Lian blurted, “You don’t see it? There’s something on my face!”
Feng Xin was puzzled. “What thing? What exactly do you mean? I don’t see anything?” Xie Lian looked at the mirror again. “That’s impossible! I…”
However, when he looked again this time, the mask on his face in the mirror had disappeared, and what reflected was that panicking face of his.
And what's crazy is that yes, White NO Face wears the mask of half laughing, half crying, but Xie Lian EMBODIES that. He is always in a state of laughing and crying simultaneously. And it just shows how broken he is.
But you know what's insane???? Xie Lian has never ONCE felt like this with Hua Cheng! It's like somehow, he is suddenly in control of his emotions and feels true sadness, true happiness and not this broken confused mixture of laughing and crying, yknow?
And the comfort he gives him? Xie Lian actually felt comforted by this monster, completely. He actually felt calm and I'm like how incredibly sick and terrifying of a person to destroy someone and then provide them with such a comfort that feels real only to shatter it the next second.
And God, oh God! My heart was dying watching a small, inanimate ball of fire express SO much fear and sadness and agony.
From deep in Xie Lian’s throat there came waves of suppressed sobs, shaking harder and harder. That ball of ghost fire flew to his heart, looking as if it wanted to warm him, but it wasn’t confident that it could help chase away the cold, so it didn’t press close
and this part
A ball of ghost fire flew to his side and moved up and down, like it was nodding in agreement. However, wicked wisps like it were all around, so Xie Lian didn’t notice this particular one.
And my god, the absolute twisted mind of White No Face, like 'YEs Your Highness, YOU said it yourself "I want to save the common people!" So here! Save them!" And it's so goddamn twisted and sick and ridiculous but like how do you argue with that when you YOURSELF proclaimed that proudly?
Watching the struggle unfold, White No-Face mocked, “The common people are here, waiting for you to save them. Please, go ahead.”
And what's worse? Xie Lian is watching people destory his temples, spit on his statues, and here, in one of the last remaining temples of the crown prince, he is on top of an alter, and he is being looked up to and you can HEAR the mocking tone of White No Face like you want to be worshipped? Here, have all these people bow to you! And he is getting that, and it's so sick and horrific;
As they tried to atone for their actions wearing ashen expressions, they bowed many times in front of Xie Lian before returning to the crowd with their child. With thick layers of blood clogging up his throat, Xie Lian was about to throw up until he heard White No-Face snicker beside him.
And just when you think that it couldn't get worse, I could feel the ear-piercing scream that Hua Cheng lets out and I think that was truly the moment when my heart completely shattered.
He couldn’t hear his own heartbreaking scream, but instead, he heard the sound of another heart-wrenching wail, and it seemed as if it came from that ring of flames. Although it didn’t come from him, the pain that he could hear was the same as his, as if he was the one that had made that sound.
This was the birth of a malicious creature, the signs of a Savage ghost taking form!
and I think this scene just shook me most to the core because it put EVERYTHING into perspective, the fear of rejection that Hua Cheng has, the overprotective nature, the way he doesn't spare a glance towards Fengqing, it all makes sense because he has been through HELL and watched beloved go through worse than hell.
He died that day with Xie Lian despite going through a rebirth.
And the literal shivers of rewatching the donghua scene, when he first meets Xie Lian where he is dressed as a bride and his hand reaches out confidently, hesitantly and it's the first time in a long time he is able to be face to face with him and he's looking at him and he's just thinking that from now on, you will never know what pain is. I will never let that happen. and you BELIEVE him and Xie Lian BELIEVED him even though he doesn't believe in anyone anymore...not even himself.
Like all the cute scenes? the gambler's den, the confession, the way Hua Cheng lay beside Xie Lian he reaches out to him but sees the shackles and hesitates, the way they both set up Puqi shrine,
just everything
everything
everything
it's so much.
You just can't see them in the same way anymore. Like I really looked at it from surface level, but there was so much behind every action; every atomic shift in their movements towards one another is accompanied by colossal weight and suffering of the past.
Oh boi, this scene too, like no words. It felt like the world stood still in this moment...
Some kind of power forced him to his feet and he stumbled out to look. He walked for a long time before he finally realized those were the sounds of celebrating the newly-built Imperial Palace, after Yong'an was established as a new kingdom and the royal capital was moved. Even the heavens were celebrating! All the once-citizens of Xianle were now cheering for Yong'an. On the main street, everyone’s faces bore such bright smiles; so familiar. Xie Lian remembered. This was also how the people at the Xianle imperial capital cheered during the Shangyuan Heavenly Ceremonial Procession.
and right by his feet lay the corpses of the King and Queen of Xianle...his parents....his dearest.
Boi deserves to go a little ape-shit but also, isn't that giving in to what White No Face wanted?
The expression on his face was like crying but laughing, like joy and sadness mixed together, and he slowly rose to his feet alongside the wall.
And he KNOWS what he's doing? He wanted Xie Lian on his side? He got him! He goddamn this absolute MONSTER UGHHHHH HE GOT HIM!! WHAT MORE DOES HE FREAKING WNT AAAAHHHHH
But I must say, I can't hate White No Face, because from a literary standpoint, he is such a wonderfully written villain. One of my all time faves just because of how well he was written. Again, just the whole book is so perfect and well-executed beyond a shadow of a doubt.
So ya!
It was ALOT to take in and I just had to let it all out.
#tgcf#heaven’s official blessings#xie lian#hua cheng#tgcf spoilers#heaven's official blessings spoilers#ch 187-191#sorry for the long read people#I will tag this as long post cuz i feel kinda bad for clogging up so much of your dash#long post#I don't think it will happen again#excpet maybe at the finale#haha typo#at some point#i thought i accidenly clicked post#and a tumblr pop says that the editor coundnt handle my post or smt#and i almost screamed cuz i wrote alot#and i thought it was all gone#dbidnxjfjjf thank god it wasnt#i dont think i would be able to type it all again
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