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Me & The Devil P.2 🌘| Harry Potter Imagine

takes place during HBP & DH1

Part 1 here | HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: death, violence, profanity, angst, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested yes/no

Premise: A dark storm is brewing over Hogwarts. The return of Voldemort and his Death Eaters spark unease in the Golden Trio. For a certain member of the Noble House of Black, she takes on a new role of double agent with the partnership between her and a certain Hogwarts professor. Will she survive the ordeal and get her freedom when it's all over? The odds are slim when acting as a loyal servant and hunted by aurors.

Note: Snape is 37 in this like the books and reader is 31. Part 3 will be the final chapter to this miniseries but I have no idea when it will be posted. Hope y’all like this one! Also near the end the final scenes are inspired by Wanda in MOM so yeah that belongs to Marvel

——————-

Months went by. Waiting. Scheming. Y/n felt her mind deteriorate by the day. Between Bellatrix’s constant complaints of Draco’s failures and Narcissa’s moping, Y/n spent most of her time in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Hidden away to perfect her spells and create new ones. She even managed to successfully become an animagus.

A black crow.

How fitting.

At times Y/n found herself sitting in front of the window. Especially when it rained. The lightning in the distance, the crisp air filling the attic walls. Lost in her thoughts, Y/n would caress the silver jewelry laid on her left ring finger.

Once a month she’d receive a letter from Severus, unbeknownst to the others, detailing Draco’s attempts and all the times Snape’s had to cover for him. As part of their deal to keep quiet of the others' disloyalty and motives behind actions, Snape agreed to update her on Draco and keep the Order off Y/n’s trail. For Y/n’s side of the bargain, she agreed to deflect suspicion on him from their fellow Death Eaters. Specifically her sisters.

And what better way to do that then in holy matrimony.

“You want to get married?” she scoffed, placing her wine glass on the coaster. Having left with her sisters following the unbreakable vow, Y/n returned later that night after Severus sent an owl. Sitting in the same leather chair from before, “You humor me.”

“I can assure you I am everything but comical, Y/n,” he drawled, standing by the fireplace. The sound of wood crackling filled the room. “This is not an arrangement I suggest lightly.”

Seeing how serious he was, Y/n’s demeanor changed. “Wow,” her tone lowered, finger raising to tap her lips. Unable to read her mind since she was a gifted Occulmens like himself, Snape was left to wonder what Y/n was thinking. Truth be told the woman was more impressed than shocked by his proposal. “I think that’s the first time I’ve been rendered speechless, Severus.” Standing, Y/n grabbed her glass and approached the man. “You truly believe this would work? Proposing a marriage between us….” she trailed, glancing at the fire briefly, “is intriguing. Tell me more.”

Snape’s expression remained the same, “It is simply a matter of convenience.” No need to sugar coat it, “We want to keep our secrets hidden. So long as you can assure your sisters stay off my back…..I’ll make sure the Order stays off yours. We play the part of a happy married couple when operating business with the Dark Lord, and I will do everything in my power to get your freedom when this all ends.”

Y/n liked what she was hearing. The more she thought about it, the more engrossed she became. Marrying Snape wasn’t ideal--as the concept itself she did not care for--but Y/n could not deny the idea made her curious. Plus Severus was handsome, a talented wizard, and obviously, he knew her motives for following Voldemort. What her end goal was. She needed to keep him close.

“I think I’ll find playing the part of a smitten wife will be rather easy,” she rasped, stepping closer to Snape so their chests were nearly touching. Walking her fingertips up the length of his arm, Y/n leaned closer to Snape which ignited a sharp breath from the man. She smelled of expensive perfume. Their closeness allowed him to see how her eyes turned from their usual coldness to something more lustful. Almost sinister. His reaction made her smirk, “Confident you can manage the same….husband?”

Now, almost a year later, the two managed to successfully keep their union hidden from the Order. All while any suspicion the Death Eaters had of Snape seemed to disappear. Bellatrix, initially furious and doubtful of their ‘relationship’, soon began to trust him. Still, the witch grimaced each time the pair greeted the other with an affectionate kiss. Or when Y/n took claim to Snape’s lap during meetings. An action which surprised the man himself in the beginning.

Each letter Severus sent was met with one in return, however Y/n was careful to only send her owl in the late hours of the night. When her family was sound asleep. Signing the parchment with only her initials, but instead of B as the ending initial it was S. She’d never admit it aloud, but Y/n felt a sense of comfort with Severus. There was an overwhelming amount of hate in her heart, but the pinch of sanity left in her soul connected to him. Which is not a surprise. He is, of course, the only person who can relate to her.

Neither would call it love. Y/n possessed no love. And Snape lost his when Lily died. They had mutual respect and care for each other as their partnership grew. Finding the other’s presence calm despite the world around them going to shit.

The news of Draco’s success in connecting the two cabinets came from Bellatrix’s glee, the woman bursting into the attic with a loud, “It’s time, sister.” Reluctantly, Y/n trailed Bellatrix to Knockturn Alley, where they met several of their associates.

Dark clouds painted the sky. Thunder rumbling. It set the tone of the evening.

Y/n stayed stoic the entire journey. Hating every minute, yet doing nothing to escape. Where could she even go? The mark on her arm prevented her from doing so. Until Voldemort was defeated, the only way for her to stay alive was to continue the act of a loyal servant.

Draco was gone when the group breached the cabinet in a cloud of black smoke. The boy rushed to find Dumbledore and complete his task. He found the man on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower. Unaware his longtime rival, Harry Potter, was below him, watching the scene play out.

The others arrived to witness Draco complete the task, however, in the end Snape was the one to administer the curse. And so the greatest wizard in history fell from the sky.

Y/n kept her eyes on Severus the entire time. Watching his reaction. When he went through with the unthinkable, Y/n wasted no time in rushing to his side. Cupping his face, she noticed the dissociative expression Snape wore. Mind processing what he had done. “Severus,” he didn’t respond, making her shake his shoulders, “look at me.” Finally he meets her eye and the woman matches his anxious demeanor. “We have to go. Now.”

Clutching his robe, the two push Draco in the direction of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix’s maniacal laughter rings as she shoots a spell into the sky to bring forth the Dark Lord’s symbol in the clouds. Not long after the tower was surrounded by members of the Order, ensuing a battle between the groups. Y/n tried to avoid dueling as much as possible. Not wanting to harm anyone, especially the kids in the school.

Cutting the corner after dodging a spell from her niece Nymphadora, Y/n spotted the wretched Fenrir Greyback attacking a man she didn’t recognize. Judging by the wild red hair he possessed, she assumed it was a Weasley. Greyback’s back was toward her, unaware she stood behind him. From the looks of it, the redhead was losing the fight.

Not sure what came over her at that moment, Y/n raised her wand and shouted, “Stupefy!” The werewolf was flung into the wall behind him, falling unconscious.

“Bill!” a voice screamed, Y/n turning to see a young woman running to where the Weasley laid. Bloodied and knocked out. Fluer dropped beside him, sobbing at the state of her fiance. She glanced up to see Y/n, immediately becoming frozen with fear while pleading with her to help. “Y-you--H-he’s been--.”

Cursing to herself, Y/n approached the two. “He wasn’t bit,” adjusting her dress skirt, she grabbed the cuffs of Bill’s jacket and gestured for Fluer to help. Together they moved him to a concealed area away from the battle. “He’s been scratched.” Having studied werewolves while in school, the woman was well educated on the subject. Muttering a healing spell, Y/n attempted to at least stop the bleeding, however, she knew the extent of his injuries were serious. “Nevertheless, the wounds are cursed. They’ll scar.”

Fluer watched her carefully, “W-why are you helping us?” Y/n gave no answer, instead casting a final healing spell before standing up to leave. In her peripheral vision, she noticed movement from Greyback, and sent a second stun his way to keep him unconscious. She always hated him, so it gave her great pleasure to pu thim down.

Truth be told Y/n didn’t know why she helped the injured Weasley. It would have best suited her to get the hell out of there and let whatever outcome happen. Whether that be Greyback killing the man or Bill successfully overpowering the werewolf. But instead, she cursed her associate. Saving the life of ‘the enemy’.

Several agonizing minutes passed before Y/n managed to escape the tower. At Snape’s order, she ran deep into the forest until she was far enough to apparate. Back at the manor she was immediately questioned by her sister.

“Is Draco okay,” Narcissa grabbed Y/n’s wrist to stop her from escaping to the attic. Eyes glossy with tears, “Did he--.”

“Your son is fine, Narcissa,” she roughly pulled away. “You have my husband to thank for that--he finished the job.” There was immediate relief from Narcissa, exhaling the breath she had been holding. Y/n went straight to the liquor cabinent, taking a glass and pouring a generous amount before downing it. She then refilled the glass, offering it to her sister without a word. Once Narcissa took it Y/n kept the bottle for herself, saying nothing more as she made her way to the attic.

It wasn’t long before the others arrived. Y/n heard Narcissa’s cry of relief upon seeing Draco. Bellatrix was busy scolding Greyback--something that brought a smile to her face. Other murmurs were made out, but hard to identify with all the noise. Moments later she heard the fast approaching sound of footsteps nearing her door. Jolting from her bed with her wand raised at whoever was about to breach it. Only when it was revealed to be Severus did Y/n lower her guard, rolling her eyes, “What have I told you about--.”

Snape slammed the door shut, muttering a silencing charm which caused Y/n to raise her brow. “We need to talk.” Her guarded expression returned, but Snape beat her before she could question him. “I know you stunned the werewolf to save Weasley.” All movement from the woment seized, frozen in shock.

“How do you know--.”

“I saw you with Miss. Delacour, Y/n,” Snape peers down at her with visible frustration. “Why would you risk such a thing? If you had been caught--.”

“But I wasn’t, Severus,” she interrupts, eyes flicking to the door in fear someone was listening, but then she remembered the spell he cast. “I was careful. You should know better than to underestimate me. And to answer your question….” she turned away from him, hands on her hips as she turned her focus to the woods beyond her window. “I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did--It just happened. Maybe it’s the fact the Weasley’s are distant family. Or because I fucking hate Greyback.” She throws her hands up in defeat, “Or I want the Order to have all its members to better their chances at winning this damn war. Maybe…” her hands fall back to her sides, “deep down there’s some humanity left in me.” The words were so low it was barely a whisper. Y/n shook her head, the speck of softness replaced with disinterest.

“Whatever it was,” turning back to him, Y/n narrows her eyes in warning. “It’s no longer our concern. Dumbledore is dead, you killed him.” footsteps echo against the wood as she approaches Snape, noticing his expression change at the mention of the headmaster. “He will be plotting his next move. We need to remain focused--I expect his attention will be on us more now given the circumstances.”

Snape knows she’s right. Killing Albus only shined a spotlight on him, and in turn on Y/n. He was now labeled public enemy #1 in the eyes of the Order. Voldemort himself will likely turn to Snape. They will have to up their game, continuing the act of a happy couple. Well happy as one can be in the middle of a war.

That summer was endless torture following the Headmaster’s death. Y/n not only had to deal with Voldemort growing stronger, but also the return of Lucius from Azkaban. It did bring the witch great joy to see the dark circles beneath his eyes and matted hair. One year in prison did a number on him.

Lucky for Lucius it was only one year. Had it been 15 like Y/n, he’d surely gone mad. Thankfully the two rarely saw each other. Not long after his release following Dumbledore’s death Y/n moved into Severus' home. Only returning to the mansion when necessary.

At every Death Eater meeting Y/n had to fight yawning with how bored she was, keeping her expression blank even when addressed by Voldermort from time to time. The man wasn’t blind. Well aware the youngest Black was not as forthcoming with her praises to him like Bellatrix. Never voicing her opinions, while also keeping any objections to herself like a smart person would do. He never fully trusted her. Even though she was married to one of his most trusted advisors, something in the back of his mind told Voldemort she’d be the first to turn on him. Without proof, Voldemort kept a close eye.

The meeting tonight was just like any other. Seated at the massive dining table in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort at the head while the Black’s and Malfoy’s flanked to the right. Y/n seated beside Draco, far from her sisters. Very telling of her attitude towards them.

Severus was the last to arrive, dark cloak tailing behind him. His entrance caught everyone’s attention, while his was on his colleague hanging in the air. Muggle studies professor Charity Burbage. The wounds on her body indicated she had been subjected to torture.

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted, “I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come. We’ve saved you a seat.” The headmaster took claim to the only free chair at the table, bidding a look to his wife, to which she slightly shook her head. Silently saying, “I had no part in this.”

Voldemort then said, “Do you bring news, I trust?”

“It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall.”

“I’ve heard differently, my Lord,” Yaxley interrupted at the other end of the table, then proceeds to say he believes Harry will be moved at the end of the month. The 30th of July. The day before his 17th birthday.

“This is a false trail,” Snape insists. “The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. “Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

The Death Eater seated beside Y/n laughed, “Well, they got that right aren’t they.” Several at the table joined in the laughter. The youngest Black’s expression was tight, plastered with annoyance.

“What’s say you, Pius?” Voldemort addresses the man seated at the opposite head of the table.

Nagini curled herself next to the chair as he answered, “One hears many things, my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” Voldemort chuckles.

“Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius.” The Death Eater appears pleased by the compliment. Voldemort turns back to Snape, “Where will he be taken, the boy?”

“To a safe house. Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible, once there it will be impractical to attack him.”

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Bellatrix. “My Lord, I’d like to volunteer myself for this task.” She leans against the table, voice dropping, “I want to kill the boy.”

“Of course you would,” Y/n thinks to herself, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. Frankly she found her sister to be stupid to ask such a thing. Considering Voldemort mentions his desire to kill Harry Potter everyday. And with the prophecy, there’s no way he’d allow anyone else the opportunity to do the deed.

In the back, Charity let out a haunting groan, causing Voldermort to shout, “Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest’s quiet?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the man spoke with urgency. “Right away, my Lord.” As he scurried off, Voldemort returned his attention to Bellatrix.

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix,” the hope was clear in her eyes, disappearing with his next words. “I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” With that she curled back into her seat, Y/n’s lips raising in a satisfied smirk.

“But,” he rises from his chair, “I face an unfortunate complication.” As much as Y/n wanted to tune out this conversation, the nature of it was hard to dismiss. Especiall when the man walked behind the chairs on her side of the table. Brushing past her sisters before ending beside Lucius. There was satisfaction seeing him visibly afraid of Voldemort. A smirk on her lips when he was to give up his wand, a wizard’s most prized possession.

Her expression shifted when Charity’s brought to the center of the table. Death Eaters laughing at her despair and cringing with disgust at her profession. Y/n moves her gaze to Severus, who’s emotionless to Charity’s pleas. Then when the woman’s killed and her body drops to the table, Y/n lifts her hand to grasp Draco’s wrist. Squeezing it in warning for him to control himself when she sees his distraught state in the corner of her eyes.

The action surprises the boy. Draco sucking in a breath and forcing himself to relax. Once he does, Y/n removes her touch and waits to be dismissed by Voldemort. As soon as the order is given she’s quick to leave the table, taking Snape’s outstretched hand where he apparates them back home.

“How do you plan--?” he doesn’t let her finish the question.

“I have it covered.” Moving to his study, he hears her footsteps behind him, Y/n slamming the door shut once they’ve entered. He looked annoyed, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” she shouted, making him clench his jaw. Ever since the incident at the Astronomy tower the two had been on edge with each other. For one, the Order discovered their marriage causing Y/n to lose her shit. Now she was public enemy #2 in their eyes. Or 3 if you count Voldermort at the top. Her odds of the Order leaving her the fuck alone decreased immensly.

Second, Snape told her of his and Dumbledore’s arrangement. That the headmaster asked Snape to kill him. A secret Y/n had trouble wrapping her head around and prayed to a higher power no one, especially Bellatrix, found out about.

Crossing over to him where he stood at his desk, Y/n caught his wrist to make him look at her. “In case you have forgotten, dear husband, we are playing both sides right now. You say you want to protect Harry Potter…just how do you plan to do that during an ambush you helped orchestrate? What the hell are we supposed to do if Harry Potter dies at his hands Saturday next?” Y/n squeezed his wrist tighter, “I’m putting all my trust into Severus Snape. You promised me my freedom when this was all over.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Y/n,” he removes himself from her grip, “You say you trust me. Do so, and you won’t be let down.”

Y/n didn’t know where it all went wrong. One moment she was flying in the sky, the next she’s being rammed into by Bill Weasley’s Thestral. Pain erupted in her chest, likely from a broken rib and caught herself on the creature's satchel. Her hand is then grabbed by the imposter Harry seated behind Bill, keeping Y/n steady to prevent falling to her death. Using her talent of legitimins, Y/n identifies the imposter as Bill’s fiance Fluer.

“You’re not Harry Potter,” she whispers, causing Harry (Fluer) to widen her eyes. The accusation was confirmed when Fluer’s voice responded, “How did you know?” Before Y/n could answer, however, the world around her became black. Having been stunned by Bill who realized what was happening behind him.

Acting fast, Fluer reached with her other hand to further grasp Y/n’s now limp body onto the Thestral.

“What are you doing?” Bill shouted over the chaos, “She’s one of them!”

“And she saved your life in the Astronomy tower, William!” Fluer screamed back. Using all her might, she hauled Y/n over the bottom half of the creature. Gripping the material of her robes and dress while ducking at the incoming curses around them.

When they finally made it to the Burrow, the shaky landing caused Fluer to lose her hold. Y/n fell to the ground, still unconscious. Bruises were sure to form on her body. Bill leaped off the Thestral, helped Fluer off and rushed to Y/n. After confirming she was alive by pressing his fingers to her pulse, the oldest Weasley took the death eater into his arms and followed Fluer into the house. But not before telling Fluer to take her wand which had been discarded into a ditch.

“Wait here,” he said, placing Y/n in the care of Fluer by setting her on a bench outside the door, Bill entered to find the others gathered around an injured George. After the shock wore off of his brother’s state, Bill announced the death of Mad-eye and departure of Mundungus. Deepening the already intense mood.

“There’s something else,” he hesitated, eyes flickering to find everyone staring at him with unease. They watched Bill exit the house, only to return a second later dragging the last person they ever expected. Gasps rang out, wands drawn in Y/n’s direction. The witch barely conscious but fighting against Bill’s hold. Eventually succumbing to sleep once again due to the pounding in her head.

With the help of Remus, the two propped Y/n in a chair, casting a spell to bind her hands and legs. “Where’s her wand?” Remus urgently looked around, relieved to see the object in Fluer’s possession. He turned to Bill, “What the hell happened?”

As the oldest Weasley explained, Molly approached the woman, assessing her carefully. Y/n had dirt and grime in her hair. A small cut to her temple. Likely from a rock when she fell from the Threstral. Her breathing was shaky, pained groans escaping her mouth which Molly assumed was from trauma to her chest. Although the others were against it, Molly began performing healing spells on Y/n, “Had it not been for her my son would be dead! I do not care what side she is on--I shall offer the same courtesy.”

The group was alerted to Y/n’s consciousness twenty minutes later when she groaned. Shifting in the chair, her eyelids fluttered briefly before opening to bright lights. Moaning, Y/n straightened up aware of the audience in front of her, however she did not appear concerned. Even with several wands pointing at her. “Hmmmph,” she blinks a few times, settling her gaze on Remus, “what an unpleasant situation we have here. I hoped to be dead before experiencing this.”

It pained Remus to hear her words. Thinking back to that little girl he’d met on the corner of Diagon Alley with James, perched on Sirius’ hip. That little girl was gone. In her place was a woman with the Devil on her shoulder. “We don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.”

Tilting her head as though she found his statement funny, she replies “Is that supposed to make me feel at ease?” rolling her eyes she adds, “Surely you could’ve come up with something better.”

Remus sighed, realizing it was about to be a long night. “We’re willing to negotiate terms if you provide us with information. A lesser sentence if you will,” he chose his next words carefully, seeing her demenor shift, “so long as you are upfront and answer all of our questions with honesty.” Y/n’s face tightened, no longer humored. Remus felt his stomach lurch, not breaking the intense eye contact she set with him.

“You threaten me--.”

“It’s not a threat--,” he insists but Y/n continues.

“With a cell in Azkaban and expect me to comply? By being a snitch?” she shakes her head, eyes full of fury. “Go to hell, Remus Lupin.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh?” She grumbles with a glare, “and how else do you suggest it be? I’m not stupid--a tad mad if we want to get technical, but you all have yourselves to blame for that.” Y/n was referring to the Order not taking her in during the First Wizarding War. Sirius warned them of his family and the Death Eaters recruiting her at a young age. Yet no attempt to protect Y/n was initiated.

The werewolf’s face fell, “Had we known--.”

“Known what?!” She jumped forward in her chair as the dam of pent up resentment and anger broke, making several flinch at the sudden movement. A few wands pointed up but she paid them no mind. “That I’d become a Death Eater against my will? That I’d be forced to use the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottoms or face my sister’s wrath?” She spat with ferocity. Pupils nearly pitch black it made her appear demonic. “You knew what my family was like! Sirius knew--It’s why he left! And you did nothing to save me.” Leaning back in the chair, Y/n finished with, “Go ahead and kill me. I’m not telling you shit.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair, his patience running thin and stress levels rising. “Y/n, I’m trying to help you here. We’re giving you the opportunity to avoid a lifetime in jail if you help us--help us end this war.” When his efforts are exhausted Remus gestures to the man behind him, “Kingsley has Veritaserum and we will use it if necessary.” Now this has her smirking, chin raising in challenge.

“Go ahead,” her voice lowers an octave, sending chills along his arms, “I welcome you to.” Weary of her acceptance, the adult members of the Order all exchange looks before Kingsley approaches. Y/n tilts her head back, watching Kingsley unscrew the vial and pour the tiny amount of liquid onto her tongue. Once it’s entered her stream, the woman cracks her neck and returns her attention to Remus.

He clasped his hands in his lap, leaning in his chair. “How’d you know about tonight?”

Y/n pretends to think, “I think I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Yeah,” she nods her head, acting serious. “That was it.”

Remus’s own head falls to his chest, the others visibly confused. The potion was to make her tell the truth. Pretty much against her will. Thinking it may have not settled in yet, Remus asks another question. “Who told him we were moving Harry?”

Deciding to play along, Y/n shrugs her shoulders, “Yaxley.” Lie. She held back a chuckle at his confused reaction.

“How did he know?”

“Overheard it.” Lie.

“Where?”

“Diagon Alley I assume.” Lie.

“From who?”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

“But he’s the one who told Voldemort.” Y/n rolled her eyes at that, gesturing to her binded hands.

“Obviously since we’re sitting in this predicament.” She sees the frustration on Remus, as well as the others. Yet, the witch couldn’t help but feel entertained. “Anything else?”

“What’s your relationship to Severus Snape?”

“He’s my husband,” She didn’t miss the way the Order reacted to the news. Upset but not surprised. No point in lying. They already knew about their marriage from what Snape told her. The truth of why, however, was still a secret.

“Why did he kill Dumbledore?” Harry stepped forward, drawing her attention to him. Anger was written all over his face. Filled with absolute hatred. Something Y/n had expected when her husband murdered the man he looked up to.

“You were there, right?” she asked, head tilting with curiosity. “Snape mentioned you’d been below the observatory deck.” Tsking, Y/n surveyed him. She was getting under his skin. “Why do you think he did it?”

“I think he did it to save himself. He was a coward,” Harry saw the way her face tightened. Taking offense to his words. A mere speck of what someone could label as affection or respect to her spouse.

“Severus Snape is many things,” she sounded sinister, anger seeping off every word. “But a coward is not one of them.”

“Fat lot of good coming from you.” Harry antagonized her. “You hightailed it out of the ministry when Sirius died. He was your own cousin.”

“My cousin who left me a sitting duck for the wolves,” Y/n reminded the boy, temper rising. An indicator with how her voice was strained. “Let’s not forget you all thought he was responsible for betraying your parents. Didn’t even hesitate to believe he was guilty.” That cut them all deep. “And I adored Sirius at one point in life. Much like you, Harry Potter,” she let out a deep sigh, attempting to calm herself, “look at where it got me.” Exhaustion was beginning to take over the witch. Her body ached and there was a pounding in her head. Molly’s healing spells worked to patch any internal injuries Y/n had, but she still was drained from the whole ordeal.

They were getting off track. Having had enough of the tension, Remus butted in, “Answer the question, Y/n. Why did Snape kill Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know,” she simply stated. Lie. “He didn’t say. Although…I can only assume it was to spare my poor nephew.” Another shrug, “And survive the unbreakable vow. Which you already know of.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t believe you.” His gut was telling him there was more to the story.

“Harry, she took the Veritaserum,” Hermoine pointed out gently, missing the flicker of amusement from Y/n. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Hermoine’s right, Harry,” Ron agreed, moving beside his friend. “There’s no way she could be lying.”

“How much did you give her, Kingsley?” Arthur questioned, also suspicious of Y/n’s answers. Kingsley held up the vial. More than half was consumed.

“Enough.”

“Something’s off,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. A bickering match ensued between members of the Order. Harry, Arthur, and even Y/n’s niece, Tonks, had difficulty believing Y/n told the truth. The majority, however, voiced opposition.

“Veritaserum is a very potent and strong potion, Harry,” Remus stood from his chair, but before he could say anything else, Y/n’s voice took over.

“Which you just wasted.”

Silence consumes the room. Processing what she said. That’s not possible.

Heads turning to the witch, Y/n starts to chuckle in delight. A sight unnerving to the Order as it becomes more deranged. Harry looked to his friends for an answer, but they were just as perplexed as him. Y/n’s voice turns taunting, “Oh my, you lot really are daft at times. Have you forgotten? Or did you believe it to be a rumor?” Her grin is wicked, finding the scene entertaining much to their dismay. “I’m a skilled Occulmens.”

It was as though the dementors arrived with how cold the air became. Everyone falters, stilling at the revelation. It could only mean one thing:

Everything Y/n said potentially was a lie.

The Death Eater tsked, “What do you think I did with all that time I had rotting in the middle of the ocean?” she laughs again, more menacingly. “Your little potion is useless! My mind is more protected than Azkaban. For all you know I fabricated everything I just told you.” Her taunting laugh continues, shredding the last ounce of patience the Order had for her.

Remus kneeled in front of her chair and smacked the table, causing everyone besides Y/n to flinch. “Enough of these games! I have tried to give you the benefit of the doubt knowing you’d been forced into this life, but you have proven to be not so different from your associates.” Now that was a nail to the coffin. Any and all of Remus’s hope for Y/n having some level of good in her gone. “This is your final warning--or we will throw you in Azkaban for the rest of your life for good!”

Never straying her stare, the Death Eater murmered cooly, “You have no idea how reasonable I’ve been.” This time it was Remus’s turn to scoff.

“Holding children hostage at the Ministry, attacking Hogwarts, marrying Snape, and sending assassins after the officials who locked you up,” He lists off, surprising the Order with the last detail. They had heard rumors of Azkaban guards and Ministry officials killed in the last few months, but assumed it was Bellatrix. “I don’t see how that’s being reasonable.”

Y/n gave a sound that was a mix of a chuckle and scoff, leaning forward in her chair. “Sending those assassins after them instead of myself was mercy.” A chill rose, Harry’s intuition telling him something was about to happen. “And despite your hypocrises and insults I have warned you time and time again to simply get out of my way.” Remus saw her hands fidget, tightening his grip on his wand.

“You’ve exhausted my patience,” Her voice lowered once more, almost to a whisper as her bottom lip quivered. “But I do hope you understand…that even now--with what’s about to happen…..” lips curled into a deathly smirk. “This is me being…reasonable.”

Faster than the speed of light, Y/n casts a non-verble, wandless spell that mimics a gust a powerful wind, ripping the binds off her hands and ankles. Remus flies onto his back, the lights flicker and burst. The windows and glass shatter. Papers fly. Hermoine screams, echoing amongst the shouts as Ron pulls her into his arms. Molly leaning over an injured George to protect him from shards.

Fluer gasps at the feeling of Y/n’s wand in her hand ripped from her. The death eater had snapped her fingers in the chaos with a non-verbal Accio.

With her wand now in her possession, Y/n unleashes another bout of wind, crippling the Order from attacking her. Once satisfied she makes her escape. Black smoke fills the room before flying out the window and into the night sky. The storm inside the burrow seizing.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron coughs, catching his breath.

“That,” Kingsley stands up straight, sore from colliding with the wall which knocked him down. “Was the closest thing to experiencing the Devil on Earth.”

Tags: @unloved-and-outspoken

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mylostloversbookmarks · 1 year

Note

thank you!! My request is: Joel x female reader. Age gap. They met after Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, they started to know each other, at first they kept it a bit like a secret but then, when things started to get more serious, they didn’t hide anymore. Things got so serious that after a while (not immediately, like a year or two) Joel asked reader to move in with him and Ellie.

Ellie loves reader and she’s more than happy that Joel found his special someone. Could you add a scene where reader is with Ellie one afternoon and they see Joel with a woman, acting really intimate, which connects to reader’s thoughts about Joel being a bit weird the previous days. She thinks he’s cheating on her, also because the woman is really close and intimate to Joel in that situation.

She wants to leave before he sees her but Joel notices her presence, tries to talk to her but doesn’t deny the accusations at first, (so a lot of angst!!!) which makes reader think she lost the love of her life.

They don’t talk for a few days and try to ignore each other when possible, despite living together. Ellie is sad and suffers from this situation. Joel loves reader too much to ruin things so he puts his pride aside and tries talking to her. They eventually talk it through, he was not cheating (choose whatever the alternative to that is!!) maybe a little fluff at the end or also something else? You choose!

also, if you have any rules or have triggers about something that I requested please let me know and change the story how you need to.

And I’m extremely sorry if this request is too long and detailed.

thank you!!!

Guiding Lights - a Joel Miller one shot.

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count - 8.7K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, , Sus!Joel, Soft!Joel, insecurities, suspected cheating, no actual cheating, I think thats all?

A/N - @addictedtotlou This is my first ever fic request and I cannot thank you enough for sending it through, and also for dropping into my inbox to let me know it was you that requested it! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy <3

Feedback, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

You often find yourself reminiscing on the day you met Joel and Ellie, it feels like forever ago now, though it has only really been a few years.

The winters in Wyoming were never kind, but that year, Mother Nature had been particularly cruel. Strong winds and vicious snow blizzards reduced visibility to almost nothing. You had heard those posted to the lookout stations talking over lunches and complaining about how bad the conditions were getting.

So in a bid to keep the good folks of Jackson safe, Tommy and Maria decided to double the number of patrols around the commune in an attempt to keep an eye on the horizon for any potential threats who could be hiding just beyond their sights.

Needless to say, it had been a rather slow work day in the Tipsy Bison, with the usual counting and re-counting of stock, checking on the latest brew of beers and whisky, ensuring everything was going as planned, and cleaning of the already immaculate bar, all finished in record time.

Expecting the usual after-work rush that never came, you sent the other two bar staff over to the mess hall to see if the kitchen needed any help with preparations for tomorrow's meals.

As the two said their goodbyes over their shoulders, you heard one of them mumble a shocked "What the hell?"

With your interest piqued, you stepped out from behind the old wooden bar and crossed the floor to the large square windows at the front of the building. Your eyes followed their gaze and watched as the afternoon patrol crew filed through the large wooden and steel-clad gates of the commune.

You waved as a few of your regulars passed you, a few tipping the brims of their ten-gallon hats. You quickly realised what had drawn your colleagues' attention when your eyes landed on two new faces in the middle of the crew.

The first newcomer was a man; he wore a thick brown winter coat and jeans that looked like they could stand up on their own, and you could see the toe of his work boot was mended with what looked to be duck tape. His eyes were sharp and focused, darting around him as if in search of someone or something.

Instantly, he gave you the impression of someone who had been on the road for quite some time. Having been there yourself, you felt a surge of sympathy for him, but you were still wary of him, not knowing why he had been brought inside the walls.

The second was a girl, whom you assumed to be the man's daughter; she was small and looked to be in her early teens. Strands of her tawny brown hair peek out from under her winter hat. big, bright eyes, taking in her surroundings in wonder, while the man stared straight ahead. The girl seemed to be unaware that all eyes were on her, from those who stood on the street to others standing in shop windows, just as you were.

You followed the other barstaff out to the porch and offered the girl a small smile as your eyes met, she quickly looked away without returning it. It wasn't often that Jackson took in new people, opting to keep off the radar to try and protect what you had here. Maria was on this afternoon's patrol and had no doubt made the call to bring the two into the commune.

As the crew passed, heading further into the small town, you saw the man's head snap to the left, and he opened his mouth.

"Tommy!" he shouted, his deep, booming voice ringing in the silence. In an instant, he was off his horse and running in the direction of the scaffolding that had been put up to repair some of the damage to a neighbouring building.

You watched on in stunned silence as the two men ran towards each other, unsure of what the newcomers intentions were, but before you had made it down the two steps of the porch, the man wrapped his arms around Tommy and began laughing, disbelief colouring the sound.

The two men stood embracing each other, both breathless from laughter, and you knew immediately who the newcomer was. This was Joel, Tommy's brother.

Tommy had spoken of him before; usually after one too many whiskies at the bar, he would open up to you about how guilty he felt about staying off the radio. He would say things like, "It's only a matter of time before he comes looking for me, Y/N; what am I supposed to do? Turn him away?" and "One thing about my big bother is that he's persistent."

You had always offered words of understanding and comfort and almost always cut him off and sent him home after those conversations, knowing that no good could come from him drinking any more alcohol.

Part of being the town's main bar tender was also being a listening ear whenever someone needed it, but with Tommy, it was different. He and Maria had become your closest friends, and you would always be there when either of them needed you, working or not.

You always got the sense that something had happened between the two men that couldn't be fixed. As you watched the brothers reunite, you realised that the thought couldn't be further from the truth.

Maria caught your eye as she dismounted from her horse and jerked her head to the side, beseeching you to join her. You nodded at her and crossed the road to where she was standing, hitching her horse to one of the many posts dotted around town.

"Maria, is that who I think it is?" You asked her quietly, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation.

"Yeah, it is," she spat. "I don't know how the hell he found us out here." She continued, venom dripping from each word.

You knew that Maria had never actually met Joel, but from the stories Tommy had told you both in the early years, she knew what he was capable of and decided then and there that she did not like him. You, on the other hand, had a more objective outlook on things.

You were not involved in the same way Maria was, of course; she and Tommy were married after all, so you could understand her reservations when he opened up about his past with his brother and the things they had done and what they thought they needed to do to survive.

The problem was, Maria had been in Jackson longer than you and Tommy and therefore had less of an idea what a brutal hellscape it was outside the walls. Maria wasn't stupid; she knew that it was dangerous, but it had been so long since she had to live like that, to really be surviving, not trusting anyone you met along the way, not knowing where your next meal was coming from, or if you were going to make it to worry about the next meal.

You, on the other hand, had lived that life for longer than you would like to remember, and though you didn't have innocent blood on your hands, they were far from clean. So you could sympathise with Tommy and the demons that clearly kept him up at night. So you felt the hatred that Maria has for Joel was a little unfounded.

"I'm happy he found him again," you admitted, unable to help the undercurrent meant by your works. What you really wanted to say was "This should have happened a long time ago if you had let him respond to Joel's calls on the radio" Meeting her narrowed eyes, you saw a flash of anger in them. No doubt you will get an earful for that comment later.

You knew what she was going to say: that Joel wasn't going to fit in here in Jackson, that Tommy was better off without him, and that you should keep a safe distance from him. But she didn't have the opportunity, as Tommy was already walking towards the two of you.

Joel had walked back to where the girl waited on her horse; a worried, almost disappointed expression crossed her face as he gestured towards Tommy. You watched as he gently helped her down from the animal, making sure she was steady on her feet before the pair followed behind Tommy.

"Y/N, Maria, ah… this is my big brother, Joel," Tommy announced, his tone a mixture of pride and nervousness.

"Hey, it's good to finally meet you; I've heard a lot about you." You smiled kindly at him; he nodded once in response, his expression guarded.

"I'm Ellie! It's nice to meet you," the girl chirps cheerily before shoving her elbow into Joel's ribs. "Joel, say hello," she all but hissed at him, which makes you chuckle.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ellie." You beam.

"It's, uh, good to meet you," he managed quietly.

Two years later...

A loud knock at your front door startles you. Your hand flies to your heart as you curse under your breath. Who the hell would be calling on you at this hour of the morning?

You pad down the hallway and open the door to find Joel standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He seemed keyed up, and your heart drops to your stomach; something must have happened.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is Ellie alright?" You squeaked at him, the panic rising in your chest causing your voice to go up an octave.

"Yes, darlin, everything's fine, Ellie's good; don't worry; I just need to talk to you about something, that's all," he assured you in his thick Texas drawl.

"Everything's good… but you need to talk to me about something at 6 a.m." You questioned him dubiously, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I promise everything is fine; I have morning patrol and was hoping I could catch you before I head out," Joel explains, the ghost of a smile playing on his plump lips.

"Ah, okay, that makes sense, sorry; c'mon, handsome." You laugh as you open the door for him to enter and close it after him.

He follows you down the hall into the small kitchen, lingering in the doorway and studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your figure as you pour him a cup of coffee. Strong, black, no sugar—just the way he likes it.

Turning with the mug in your hand, you let out a breathy laugh at the sight of him. He looked wired, far too awake for this hour of the morning. Was he sweating?

"Joel, baby, are you alright?" You ask curiously as you hand him his coffee and take your usual seat at the end of the dining table.

"Yeah, I just…I wanna ask you something but I don't know how" he confessed sheepishly, his large hand coming to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.

"I'd like to think you know me well enough by now to know you can ask me anything." You said it with a smile, hoping to calm whatever was causing his nerves.

"Yeah, no, I know, I just don't want to freak you out; there's no pressure, and I understa-"

"Just spit it out, Joel." You interrupt him. In the two years you had been with Joel, you had never seen him struggle for words with you, and it was making you anxious.

"Okay," he huffs out, pulling the dining room chair out so he could sit facing you. He takes a long drink of coffee before continuing, and the suspense is killing you.

"So I was speaking to Ellie, and you know we both love you; hell, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me!" He chuckles fondly: "Look, we've been seeing each other for a while, and now that everyone knows, I think it would be good, you know, f-for Ellie if she had a…I dunno, like a mother figure on a more permanent basis." The words were falling out of his mouth like an avalanche. He desperately hoped he was making sense, but you still weren't understanding.

"Permenant basis? What do you mean?" You ask, confusion clear on your face, making him laugh again.

"Yeah, like on an everyday basis," he enphasises. Urging you to grasp the meaning of his words.

"Okay, um, I mean, yeah, I think that's a great idea. I love that kid. I will tell her about making an effort to hang out every day." You promise him sincerely and are touched that he thinks of you as a mother figure to his daughter.

"That's not really what I was thinking, baby; I mean, on a permanent basis, like you would live in the same house." He husks softly, his eyes searching your face for your reaction, and his heart sinks to his boots as he watches your brows knit together.

"Did you have another fight?" You ask him, reaching your hand up to stroke the side of his face, your thumb lingering on the heart-shaped patch of his beard where the hair refused to grow. "Ellie's always more than welcome to stay here when she likes, but Joel, I don't think her moving in here is the answer."

He takes your hand from his face and holds it between both of his; he huffs all the air from his lungs and slowly takes another deep breath. Straightening in his chair, he locks eyes with you.

"I knew this would be an easy ask, but I didn't imagine you making it this hard on me," he says exasperatedly, huffing out another loud laugh.

"I don't understand." Confusion layers your tone, and you are sure your face is doing the same.

"I'm not asking if Ellie can move in with you; I'm asking if… if you would like to move in with us Y/N" He admits. His brown eyes are soft and lingering on your face, and his thumb is tracing small circles on your wrist.

This was not the conversation you were expecting to have over your morning coffee; your brain was barely functioning, and your mind started to race. The last two years of your life, with Joel and Ellie passing by before you in a blur of colours and memories.

You had sympathised with Joel's struggles to adjust to life in Jackson, and given that you worked in the only bar in town, he quickly became a familiar face. You ignored Maria's warnings to stay away from him; after all, she didn't know him from Adam, and you felt it was unfair to judge someone on the things they had done as the world fell apart overnight.

So, slowly but surely, you found yourself at work, hoping each night that he would stop in so you could get to know him better, and he always did. Always opting to sit at the bar, despite there being plenty of more comfortable booths to sit at.

At first, it was always you who initiated the conversation, asking him how his day was, how the patrol had gone, and how Ellie was fitting in, and you listened tentatively to what little information he would give you. Until eventually, after a couple of months of the same routine, he started to open up to you.

He would ask you how you were, how your shift had been, if you had a good day off, and on occasion he would let slip that he "missed you yesterday" when he called in for a drink on his way home from patrol, only to be disappointed that you were nowhere to be found.

It made you giddy; he was on your mind constantly; it made you feel like there was a swarm of butterflies in your belly, but you thought it was only harmless flirting as there was a considerable age gap between you both, with Joel being in his fifties and you in your early thirties, you didn't think Joel would be interested in a relationship with you.

But how wrong you were! After a couple of weeks of late-night drinks after the bar had officially closed, Joel had bitten the bullet and asked you out, though he asked if you wouldn't mind keeping it between the two of you as he didn't know how Ellie would react to him seeing someone and you gladly accepted.

You understood that Ellie was and always would be his first priority, and you admired his unwavering dedication to her, especially after finding out that Ellie wasn't his blood relative; he had taken her on as "cargo," as he affectionately put it. As a way to get one step closer to finding his brother, but she had worked her way under his skin, much like she did with everyone she met. It was so difficult not to like her. With her quick wit and foul mouth, she never failed to make you laugh. She was definitely his daughter, blood or no blood.

The thought of Ellie brings your mind back to the question at hand: should you move in with them? Was now the right time? Was Ellie even okay about this? Did she even know Joel had asked you? Each question raced through your mind until your mouth found one it could form words around.

"What does Ellie think of this?" You asked Joel intently, reading his face for any signs of worry or panic at your question, but there were none to be found.

"I mentioned to Ellie a few months ago that I thought it would be nice if you were around all the time, and she agreed, and then I sat her down yesterday and told her that I was thinking of asking you today, and she was all for it. I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, though; it's okay if it's too soon; you can say no, and we won't be offended in the slightest!" Joel assures you, his voice is low and genuine.

He lifts his right hand to the side of your face and gently brushes the hair out of your eyes, his calloused thumb stroking back and forth as you lean into his touch, allowing your eyes to fall closed. Taking a deep breath, you throw caution to the wind.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, your voice drops to a whisper. "Yes, I'll move in."

Suddenly your body was moving, and not by its own volition; your eyes were still closed, so your brain was having trouble registering what was happening. When your eyes flashed open in surprise, you were caught up in Joel's arms, spinning around your small kitchen with your feet no longer planted on the floor.

"Joel!" You squeal through breathy laughter, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

"Are you sure, baby?" He asks, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"Yes, I'm sure handsome, but I have one condition!" You warn him, arching a fluffy brow.

"Name your price, sweetheart," he smirks at you through the whiskers of his full moustache.

"I get to tell Ellie," You beam back at him, your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers scractching lightly at the curls that have formed there.

"I think she'd like that," he ghosts against your lips, lightly brushing his nose against your own until you lean up and crush your mouth to his.

Three years later...

It has been a hectic few weeks for the community in Jackson, working through yet another savage winter. You were just through the middle of it, and the end was in sight. The snow storms were not as frequent and the winds were not as wild.

Work has been keeping you busy. You are still the main bartender at the Tipsy Bison, but much to Joel's dismay, you have also picked up a few patrol shifts to lend a hand to Tommy as a few of the older patrol crew stepped back into other work duties due to ill health.

It has felt like months since you and Joel have spent any quality time together, despite living in the same house and working in the same community. Whenever you were both home, he seemed distant and preoccupied, as if there was somewhere else he wanted to be. You tried to engage him in conversation, but he would only give you short answers before retreating into his own thoughts.

At first, you thought that he might just be stressed out from work duty or the weather, as bad as it has been, but as the days turned into weeks, you started to feel a growing sense of unease. You have never seen Joel act this way before, not with you at least, and you don't know what to do.

You miss his closeness; the late-night conversations at the bar while you finished up your shift—all of that has stopped, and no matter how many hours you spent trying to figure out why, you always came up blank.

So needless to say, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with Ellie this evening to help take your mind off your worries. You had stood under the shower for longer than you intended, just enjoying how the steaming water rolled down your tense frame.

With a sigh, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in your towel, headed into your bedroom to get dressed, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that the house had heating, an especially rare commodity with the world's current condition. Jackson really was a paradise of sorts.

"Ellie! C'mon kiddo, we're going to be late for the movie!," You shout from the bottom of the stairs, shrugging into your winter jacket.

Movie night Fridays have quickly become a tradition for you and Ellie, especially now that the winter has rolled back around and it's too cold to spend much time outdoors.

"Alright, I'm coming; Jesus, keep your hair on!" Ellie mutters as she makes her way down the stairs, where you wait for her.

"We only have 20 minutes before the film starts, and I know you're going to want to get snacks, so we've got to make tracks." You laugh as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Alright Mom," she mocks, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"You're such a little shit, you know that, right?" You tell her fondly with a warm smile.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," she grins.

"Ah, I see, and does Dina know all about your charm?" You playfully jab her ribs with your elbow, wagging your brows up and down.

"Ugh, you're so annoying; you know that, right?" Ellie counters, always so quick-witted.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," You repeat her words back to her, earning another eye roll.

The two of you leave the house and trudge out into the snow; thankfully, the blizzard has calmed, and now fat, fluffy flakes of snow flurry around you like something from a movie scene.

As brutal as they can be, you have never seen anything more beautiful than Jackson in the winter. It was like something you would see on a postcard of a ski village in the French Alps, all timber buildings and string lights illuminating the small town.

On Friday nights, the mess hall was turned into a makeshift movie theatre for the youth that lived in the commune, offering them some respite from the grind of daily life. It was complete with candy, drinks, and, of course, pop corn.

At first, Ellie hadn't seemed all that interested in going, not knowing many kids her age, but after a lot of coaxing and the promise that if she didn't like it, she didn't have to go again or even stay for the full movie, Though she quickly found her feet with Dina, the rest was really history.

"Where's Joel tonight? I thought he was going to come with us." Ellie asked curiously.

"Oh shit, I meant to tell you earlier; he said Tommy asked him to cover the evening patrol tonight, so he can't make it." You explained, not really sure why Tommy needed him to cover after already doing the afternoon patrol, but it must have been important, so you didn't give it a second thought.

You and Ellie walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful walk through town. You were about to ask her how she was getting on with her work detail when she came to a standstill.

"I thought you said Joel was on patrol tonight?" she demanded, her face contorting in confusion.

"Uh yeah, Ellie, I just told you that." You confirm, your own confusion mirroring hers.

"Then what the fuck is he doing in the bar?" She fumes, gesturing behind you to the window of the Tipsy Bison.

Sure enough, there he sits at the bar with Jenna. Joel was nursing a whisky, and she was playfully peeling back the homemade label of her beer bottle. They are sitting in the corner booth by the window, leaning towards each other to the point where their heads are far too close to be appropriate.

In that moment, your breathing stopped. Your stomach sank to the floor, and an overwhelming sense of panic and dread began to claw viciously from your chest up your throat, resting heavy on your tongue.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks nervously, not really sure what to do or say in this situation. It could be nothing, but even to her, it definitely looked like something.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Ellie, why don't you go on down to the mess hall, and I'll meet you there in a few?" You tell her more than ask, your eyes never leaving the window.

"No way fuck that I'm staying with you!" she demands, her eyes growing wet around her long lashes.

"No, Ellie, I need to talk to Joel; I will catch up with you in a few, okay?" You meet her eyes and nod in the direction of the mess hall. She only nods in response; your tone is final as she turns on her heel and storms towards the makeshift movie theatre.

What the fuck is happening right now? You trusted Joel; it never bothered you when the ladies in Jackson would bat their eyes at him or when their glances lingered a little too long. You took it as a compliment; hell, if you were them, you would stare too.

Your relationship was built on a foundation of honesty and trust from the very beginning. You have told him things you have never shared with another living soul, and he has done the same with you. Never in your life did you think you would be lucky enough to share a connection with someone the way you have with Joel, let alone after the world had ended.

And now here you stand in the middle of town, watching the man you love cosy up with another woman in plain sight, not even having the decency to try and hide it from you.

You stand there for another few minutes, watching how he leans across the table to talk to her, laughing and caressing his arm in response. It sets fire to your blood, and you can feel it moving like molten lava in your veins.

You're moving before you realise you have made the decision to do so, your feet carrying you furiously forward, up to the short creaking steps and through the entrance to the bar, and then there you are, looming over their table. Your eyes bore holes into his skull. He jumps in his seat and scrambles frantically to hide the notebook that was sitting open on the table between them. You didn't pay it a second glance.

"I didn't realise the bar needed patrolling this evening," you state pointedly at him, ignoring Jenna, who is doing everything she can to avoid eye contact with you, fidgeting in her seat, and clambering to get her things together. Grabbing her coat and scarf from beside her.

"Hey darlin, I thought you and Ellie were heading to the movies." He asks, his voice rough with his attempts to hide his nerves.

"We were on our way there when she saw this cosy scene from the street." You gesture with your hand towards the table, your voice icy as you let your hand drop to your side with an audible slap, which made Jenna flinch.

"I think I'm going to head out…" Jenna murmurs in a small, quiet voice, still avoiding your gaze.

"That is a wise decision" You agreed without taking your eyes of Joel.

She throws Joel a cryptic glance before clambering out of her seat and quickly making her way to the door, shooting Joel an apologetic glance over her shoulder, which only fuels the rage bubbling up in your throat.

"What the fuck?" You growl at him, doing your best to keep your voice under control. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene. Especially not at your workplace, regardless of whether you were on shift or not.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, genuinely confused by your anger.

"Please tell me you're joking," you seethe.

"What? I can't have a drink with a friend." He scoffs, incredulous.

"Seriously Joel? Since when have you had to lie about working to have a drink with a friend?"

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?" he countered, avoiding the question.

"No, I really don't think I am. How could you do this? How could you do this in front of Ellie?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel huffs back at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes begin to prick with anger fuelled tears; the feeling of betrayal rips through you, leaving you exposed to his hard gaze. You can't take any more of this. It feels like the room is closing in around you. That you will suffocate if you don't leave right now. You look at him once more, and the fact that he hasn't denied it or assured you that this is anything other than what you fear it to be ,allows your world to crumble around you.

"Alright," you manage in a broken whisper that comes out as a choked sob.

With that, you turn and bolt for the door, desperately gasping for air but unable to get enough to fill your lungs. You have to brace yourself on the railing of the porch. You can feel his eyes on you as he watches you leave from where he sits frozen at the table, but he makes no move to follow after you.

Willing your legs to move, you push off the railing and slowly make your way to the mess hall, slipping in just as the movie is starting. You can see Ellie is sitting in the middle of the crowded room, and she has saved you a seat beside her.

You make your way to the restroom, taking in your reflection for the first time that evening. Your face is red and splotchy from crying, your eyes puffy, and your lips swollen from your teeth worrying at them. With shaking hands, you reach out to turn the tap on, splashing the icy cold water over your face as you try to make sense of what has just unfolded.

You knew Jenna; she is one of the few people trained in blacksmithing in Jackson, but you had never been especially close with her. She would frequent the bar and chat with you about her work day and vice versa, but that was the extent of your relationship with her, and you have never seen Joel interact with her. It just didn't make sense; why would he throw everything away for a fling with someone who lives in the same commune? Did he really think you wouldn't find out?

You do your best to shake the thoughts from your head, focused on spending the rest of the evening with Ellie, you will do everything in your power to shelter her from this. So with a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and left the restroom, smiling and waving politely at familiar faces as you made your way to your seat, stopping by the makeshift concession stand to grab Ellie some popcorn and a soda on your way.

"Hey, I've got you some snacks, kiddo." You whisper to her, not wanting to interrupt the film.

"Thanks, are you okay?" She murmered with a small smile. Taking the snacks from your outstretched hands.

"Yes, of course everything's fine; there was a mix-up with the patrols, so Joel didn't have to work tonight after all." You reassured her softly.

It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.

You weren't really sure what movie was even playing tonight, so lost in your thoughts that it was just a blurry hum in the background. Ellie had to nudge your shoulder several times to tell you that the movie had was over. Glancing around to find a steady stream of people filing out of the mess hall.

"Sorry, Ellie, I'm just a bit distracted tonight; work has been so hectic recently, and I have so much to do when I open tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off. Hoping that she will let it go and that she wasn't being as observant tonight as she usually is. The girl misses nothing.

"It's okay, the film was a repeat anyway," she shrugs, not pressing you on the matter, though you know all too well that the questions will come eventually.

"Shall we head home? It sounds like it's getting pretty rough out there," you noted, as another howl of wind wipped around the wooden building.

"Sounds good; I want to have a shower before Joel uses all the hot water again," she ribs in a peel of bright laughter that sends warmth radiating through your now hollow chest.

When you reach the house, you find it in darkness. Joel hasn't made it home yet, and although you are beyond angry, you can't help but worry about him. Of course he can look after himself, but it isn't like him to be out this late if he wasn't on patrol.

The seething voice in the back of your head reminds you that he could be with her. You try to push those thoughts out of your head, but they linger like a dark cloud, casting a grim shadow over what was your perfect - or as perfect as it could be - life.

"I'm going for a shower and then head to bed, you okay?" Ellie asks, once again pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, of course, kiddo, no worries. Do you need anything? You want some tea?" You offer as you head to the stove and place a pot of water on to boil.

"No, I'm good. Thanks though, g'night!" She calls over her shoulder, and then you are alone in the small kitchen.

"Night kiddo," You call quietly to her as you reach for the herbal tea blend that you and Ellie grew in your little garden last summer.

As you wait for the water to boil, your mind starts to race with worry and anxiety. You can't help but think of all the possible scenarios that could be keeping Joel out this late, and the thought of him being with another woman makes you want to break things. You have tried to push those thoughts out of your head so many times this evening, but they keep creeping back.

A few hours later, you are sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, desperately fighting to keep your eyes open, but in the end you give up, gently placing your book on the coffee table and removing the blanket from your lap. You look at the clock on the wall, and it's just after 3am.

You pad into the kitchen and leave your mug in the sink, too tired to wash it now; that's tomorrow's problem. Heading up the creaky stairs to your bedroom and crawling into the cold sheets. It feels wrong going to bed without Joel by your side, but he is god knows where right now, so you lean over, turn the bedside lamp off, and sink into a restless, uneasy sleep.

You wake to the wintery morning sunshine seeping through your bedroom window. Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Slowly sitting up in bed, you stretch your tired bones, sore from your restless few hours of sleep, and swing your legs out of bed. It's only 7 a.m.; you don't usually open the bar until midday, so you have plenty of time to get ready.

You slink down the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie as you do so. Heading into the kitchen mid-yawn, you stop in your tracks as you find Joel standing at the stove, hovering over a pot of boiling water on the closest ring to him.

"Mornin'," he husks without turning; he must have heard you yawning with his good ear to the doorway.

You ignore him, knowing full well that it's petty and childish and ultimately will not resolve anything, but with the way he behaved last night, you feel the cold shoulder is justified.

You both continue with your morning rituals in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn't know where to begin broaching the subject, and the more you stewed over it, the more you felt he should be the one to open the conversation with an explanation, but if you were being totally honest with yourself, you were beginning to worry that you may have jumped to conclusions.

But when you thought about the way they were huddled together, her hand on his arm, and the way she tipped her head back in laughter at each thing he said, the pit in your stomach grew. As did the silence between you.

Things went on like this for days, with the two of you skirting around each other and avoiding eye contact. Only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary, like dinner times, and giving each other your work duties for the week.

You could see the effect this was having on Ellie; she has been especially quiet the last few days, so once Joel leaves for work, you sit with her on the couch and try to get her to open up.

"Ellie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

"I don't know. You and Joel have been acting weird lately, and it's making me tense." She shrugs, not meeting your gaze.

You take a deep breath, knowing that you can't keep avoiding the issue. "Yeah, we've been having some problems. But it's nothing you need to worry about, kiddo."

"It doesn't seem like nothing," she retorts. "You guys haven't spoken in days. It's not like you."

"I know, Ellie. I just don't know how to fix it." You sigh.

"Maybe you could start by talking to him," she suggests.

"It's not that simple, Ellie. There's a lot going on." You shake your head.

"Well, maybe it would help if you talked to me about it," she offers.

"Thanks, Ellie. But it's not something I can really discuss with you. Just know that Joel and I are working through some things and we'll get through it." You smile softly at her, grateful for her kindness.

She nods, not looking convinced but not pressing the issue. You sit in silence for a moment before she stands up. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. Need to clear my head."

"Okay, kiddo. Be safe," you say, watching her leave.

You're left alone in the quiet house, the weight of your problems still heavy on your shoulders. You know Ellie is right; you need to talk to Joel. But the thought of confronting him is daunting, and you don't know if you want to hear what he has to say.

What if he doesn't want you anymore? What if he's not happy and hasn't been for a while?

You decide that enough is enough. After work this evening, you are going to speak to him and attempt to clear the air, hear his side of the story, and try to move forward, if not for the sake of your relationship but for Ellie. It's not fair to have this weighing on her shoulders; it's not her fault, and you hate seeing her unhappy, and you know that Joel will feel the same about his if nothing else.

The workday drags on uneventfully; the only thing standing out was that Jenna had come to the bar for the first time since that evening. She gave you a small smile, and you returned it with a polite nod. You were at work after all and took it upon yourself to remain as professional as possible.

Jenna approaches the bar and orders her usual, which you pour for her without issue, though it makes your skin itchy to be this close to her.

"Have you spoken to Joel yet?" she asks quietly. Wiping her fingertips across the bartop.

You stare at her blankly; the audacity of this woman boggles your mind.

"No," you respond curtly.

"Okay, well, when you do, come and find me. We'll have a lot to discuss." She states matter-of-factly, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Before you have the chance to give her a piece of your mind, she is walking away from the bar, her long auburn hair swishing to her lower back. What the fuck is her problem?

You try to get through the rest of your day without dwelling on the conversation you had with Jenna, focusing more on the impending conversation you are going to have with Joel this evening. Thinking about what you were going to say to him, how you were going to explain how you felt, and how hurt you have been over the last few days.

You lock up the bar and head towards home for the evening, taking a little more time than you usually would, feet dragging, dreading the fight that would likely ensue once you had spoken to him. You tell yourself you will keep a level head, but you know deep down your temper would not allow that to happen if he gave you some bullshit excuse.

As you approach the small, snow-covered pathway that leads to the back porch of your home, you pause there, unable to bring yourself to go inside. So you take a seat on the second step and watch the flurries of fluffy snow as they make their way through the air to join the pillowy blanket that covers everything in sight.

You sit there for what feels like hours. Jackson was always quiet; it needed to be in order to keep what you have here safe, but as you sit in the darkness, the only light coming from the dim porch light and the light seeping through the thin linen curtains from the living room, it feels eerily silent and still. The sound of the backdoor creaking open made you jump. The heavy footsteps that followed, however, were all too familiar.

"You gonna stay out here all night?" He asked quietly, his voice low and soft.

"No, I was just… well, I don't really know what I was doing." You offer a small laugh, void of any humour.

Joel takes a few steps and groans loudly as he lowers himself to join you where you sit. He is quiet for a few moments until he finally speaks.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the other night and how it must have looked. I'm sorry for not explaining to you then and there what it was; I didn't want to tell you, and I still don't really. But I promise you on my life that it is not what you think it is, Darlin," he says softly, regret heavy in his tone.

"I don't understand Joel; I just want to understand what the fuck has been going on," you pleaded, hating how desperate your voice sounded.

"I know, baby, and I'm going to tell you. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise. I also didn't want to tell you without speaking to Ellie first, but I spoke to her at dinner, and now she understands." He assures you, his hand coming up to brush your cold cheek for the first time in days, and it was impossible not to lean into the heat of his palm.

"Okay, so now everyone knows but me, why were you all cozied up with Jenna? Why did you lie to me about going to work?" You challenged him, removing your face from his touch.

"Hold on," he huffs, shifting his weight to one hip as he fishes for something in his back pocket before continuing. "It will make more sense once you see this, or I hope it will at least," he offers as he hands you a beaten-up, leather-bound note book.

"What is this?" You ask him, you remember seeing it on the table in the bar the other night.

"Would you just open it?" he sighs, rubbing his hand through his patchy whiskers nervously.

You do as he says and open the notebook, and what you find takes you aback. The notebook is filled almost front to back with little sketches of rings and little notes about different metals and gems in his familar handwriting and another that you don't recognize.

"Wh-what is this?" You repeat, stunned. So many thoughts racing through your mind and you are beggining to realise that you have completely misread the situaiton the other night.

"I know I was going to have to tell you about it eventually, you know for your size and all but I was planning to do that after I asked you…but then with the other night I wasn't sure what to say and I was kind of pissed off that you where angry at me, I didn't stop to think that you weren't in on the secret and what it must have looked like to you," Joel's hand came to rest on your knee squeezing reassuringly as he explained the circumstances that lead to what you saw in the bar.

"I have been meeting up with Jenna over the last few weeks, she's the only blacksmith in Jackson that used to make jewelry…specifically engagement rings," he paused allowing his words to sink in before finishing his explination.

"We've been trying to figure out how to make you one, what metals mix well from what I have found on supply runs, whether to hold off if I could find a stone or a gem, or if we could make it without one,"

You stare at him, a mix of astonishment and disbelief washing over you. The pieces start to fall into place, and you realize the truth behind Joel's actions. The anger and hurt that had consumed you begin to melt away, replaced by a flood of emotions, the most promanent being embarrassment.

"You were planning to… ask me?" you stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The weight of your accusation hangs heavy in the air as you struggle to comprehend the situation.

"Yeah, I was. I've been saving up for months, looking for the right opportunity, and I wanted it to be a surprise. Jenna's been helping me because she's skilled at crafting intricate pieces. I wanted to make something special for you, something that would last a lifetime." Joel nods, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Tears well up in your eyes as the realization of your mistake dawns upon you. You reach for Joel's hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Oh, Joel, I'm so sorry," you say, your voice trembling. "I jumped to conclusions without knowing the whole story. I never thought…I feel like such a peice of shit, I'm so sorry"

"It's okay, darlin'. I should've communicated better, explained everything to you beforehand. I understand why you were upset." He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

"But why did you lie about going to work?" you inquire, still wanting to grasp every detail.

"We thought it would be best if we kept it a secret until it was ready. And I didn't want you to suspect anything. I wanted the proposal to be a surprise, and I was afraid if I told you I was hanging out with Jenna, you'd figure it out before I had the chance." He shrugged.

"Joel, I can't believe you're doing this. You've put so much thought and effort into making something special for us. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I have been so awful to you over the last few days," You let out a shaky breath, your heart filled with a strange mix of relief, shame and joy.

A soft smile graces Joel's lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Don't say that, sweetheart. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tears stream down your face now, but they're tears of happiness. You lean in and rest your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. The weight of the misunderstanding lifts, leaving behind a newfound sense of trust and appreciation.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch and for overreacting. I should have known you'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Hey, we all make mistakes, darlin'. It wouldn't be the first time I've got pissed at you for something I misunderstood now is it?." he chuckles quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I guess no ones perfect," you echo his laughter leaning into him further.

As you sit together on the porch steps, surrounded by the beauty of the snowfall, you realize that the snow isn't the only thing that's melting. The icy barriers that had formed between you and Joel are slowly thawing away, leaving behind a comfortable quiet.

"So, now that the cats out of the bag, will you…?" he asks his deep voice thick with emotion.

"Will I what handsome?" You look up at him teasing, your eyes twinkling.

A playful grin tugs at the corners of Joel's mouth as he meets your gaze. "Will you marry me, my beautiful, stubborn, and occasionally misunderstood partner in crime?" he asks, his voice laced with a mixture of nervousness and hope.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a surge of excitement courses through you. You pretend to ponder his question, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I don't know, Joel. I mean, after all that's happened, can I really trust you with my heart?" you tease, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel feigns a look of hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Oh, come on now. I've endured snowball fights, kitchen mishaps, you and Ellie ganging up on me and even your questionable taste in movies. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

Laughter bubbles up from within you, and you lean in closer, pressing your forehead against his. "Joel, you are my love and my rock. Of course, I'll marry you," you say, your voice filled with so much love.

In that peaceful moment, wrapped in the calm of the snowfall and the safety of his strong arms, you realize that there will be silly arguments, misunderstandings and cold shoulders, but you will always find your way back to each other. You let out a sigh of contentment as Joel presses silent kisses against your head, happy to sit here forever wrapped up in him.

Knowing that Joel and Ellie will forever be your guiding lights.

#joel x reader #Joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller #ellie wili #joel and ellie #joel x you #joel x y/n #Pedro pasca #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fic #fic request #mylostloversbookmarks

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roguelov · 2 years

Text

Consequences

Summary: For nearly half of a year, you had been in a romantic relationship with both Morpheus, King of Dreams and Nightmares, and Calliope, a Greek Muse. However, soon, a seed of doubt, insecurity, and jealousy blooms as the two past lovers grow closer and begin to neglect you. So, what will happen when you finally snap?

Word Count: ~3.5k

Reader: Afab!reader

Warning: Smut (edging, dirty talk, oral!receiving, fingering, light choking, possessiveness, minor praise kink), angst (jealousy and mentions of leaving) sprinkled in the beginning, fluff at the end

Note: It can be a part 2 for this, or just a standalone

I’m fine.

I love them each dearly. Nothing will ever change that.

Nothing.

But.

But, do they truly love you the same in return? Do they truly cherish you like you cherish them? Do they spend more time together when you are away? Don’t they share more secrets, share more memories? Do they love each other more -

This new sinister voice drilled question after question into your mind and waning sanity. It filled every crevice, void of love, with doubt and despair. Piece by piece, it sewed its control over you. It whispered its relentless questions, it showed you flashes of scenes and interactions in a new twisted light, it reminded you of the cruel truth.

The truth being: Calliope and Morpheus had a past. A complicated past, yes, but one that was built on a shared love. And although it may have ended messily, they wished to overcome and start again, start new.

With you.

Or you simply forgot that last crucial part.

The first couple of months were picture perfect. It was a new beginning with the two of them and you truly never felt happier, or more alive. With nights spent as a whole trio or with only one, and dates and outings do whatever the day brought. They showered you in affection, they whispered about their combined love, and with time they slowly revealed their shared past and all its secrets, good and bad.

You were thankful that they felt comfortable to do so. Honored, in a way. Yet, the comfort did not last long. Tiny, minuscule, storm clouds began to form over your head. And bit by bit, almost resentful of them, you pulled away. For some reason, they did not reach out farther. They did not pull you back from the edge, they did not see the pain behind your smile, they did not question as you grew more silent and reserved.

They did nothing.

You tried helplessly to push past it, tried to act as if this envious worm, rotten, bitter, and jealous, hasn’t made a residency in your heart.

But, it did.

In passing moments, whether it be in the Waking or the Dreaming, you only saw how they looked to each other. Like gravity they were drawn together, unable to stop it.

You laid awake in the dark, awfully quiet bedroom. Only with your spiraling thoughts to keep you company. It all played on repeat: every scene together, every moment from the beginning of the relationship to its entirety of the past months.

Do you think they are together right now? Do you think Calliope visits the Dreaming when you are away? What would they be doing? What would they be doing without you? Would they -

You flung your pillow at the wall. It didn’t sway or lessen any pain. You wanted objects to shatter, to shatter like how your heart began to crack. You gritted your teeth ready to rip out your hair. It was maddening.

They each have their own lives as do I. You told yourself. I’m busy, they’re busy. And - and -

You screamed.

Why couldn’t these feelings go away?

The storm clouds brewed and festered. A storm - no, a ravenous hurricane would make land soon. You simply hoped you were prepared for the inevitability consequences.

After a few weeks apart, all three of you were united once again. You should be happy, thrilled even, you should be smiling and laughing. Yet, all you could do was grit your teeth, about to crack them, and glower at Calliope and Morpheus.

In your apartment, in your living room, Calliope laid in Morpheus’s arms. Her back pressed into his chest with his arms carefully wrapped around her waist. All the while, you sat on a lone chair. Across the room, far, far away from them.

The tv played random movies all of which were distant static in your ringing ears. Your eyes focused solely on the two of them. You wanted to smile at their smiles, you wanted to laugh at their hushed whispers. You wanted, and wanted, and wanted -

“Does anyone need a drink ro anything?” You asked, nearly biting a hole on the inside of your cheek.

The pair shook their heads, saying their thanks, and stayed clasped in each other’s embrace.

You muttered ‘okay’ and hopped up desperately needing the space.

In your kitchen, you tugged on your hair begging why you felt this way. Why now? Why these constant horrid emotions and thoughts? Why did you clench your jaw at the sight of your two loves? Why did you dig your fingernails into your palm when they giggled together? Why did you want to scream when they shared a smile? Why, why, why -

Laughter, contagious and boisterous, echoed.

Your heart clenched.

Don’t. You’ll only make it worse for yourself. Don’t -

You peered out of the kitchen. Calliope, pressed into Morpheus’s chest, was laughing wholeheartedly throwing herself into him, while Morpheus chuckled lightly; he was more amused by Calliope’s outburst. Sounds, sweet hypnotic sounds, which should have brought a flutter in your heart only grated on your ears. Your face twisted as all the anger you had locked away started to break down the door.

Morpheus dropped his head down, whispering into Calliope’s ear. She laughed more, unable to stifle her giggles.

Red covered your vision.

How dare they.

It was as if you didn’t exist. They were more enraptured with each other than anything else. Almost as if you were nothing, nothing but a mere mortal - a pathetic ant to play with for these two worldly gods.

They clearly didn’t need you. Or want you.

Clearly, they didn’t care.

Jealousy was a wicked vile monster. Anger was her fiery insatiable friend. Together, the two had wound you up for weeks, spewing their truths, and now you could not push them back anymore.

“Am I interrupting?”

Calliope and Morpheus, smiling and cheerful, glanced over to you. You, however, did not share their same smile. Never did.

Calliope blinked, taken back by your seething glare. Sitting up, she turned, looking at you. “What’s the matter, my -“

“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Your lips twisted into a snarl. How dare she think she can sweeten me over?

Morpheus’s eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. What has stirred such a hateful reaction? He looked to Calliope only to find the same confusion.

“I don’t understand,” Morpheus stated. “What has caused such -“

“How can two gods - or a goddess and some cosmic being, be so dense? Are you not all seeing and all knowing? Or is that only for each other?”

A sliver of the truth hidden behind all your rage.

Calliope could not find the words. Her mouth gaped like a fish on land, shocked by this side of you.

Morpheus, however, responded more coolily, sternly. He slowly rose to his feet, tilting his head back. Summoning all of his regal prestige and power. “Will you tell us what afflicts you, or will you continue to throw a tantrum like a common child?”

“A child?” You gasped; your nails cut into your palm.

“Yes, a child.”

“Morpheus,” Calliope warned. “Let’s not do -“

“Says the being who has told stories of throwing tantrums throughout his entire existence.” You fired back.

Calliope instantly shot up, placing a hand on Morpheus’s chest. She looked at you, frowning. “You must stop this at once. I do not know where this has come from but it ends now.”

You heard none of it. Your eyes locked on her hand on his chest.

She chose him.

They chose each other.

“Well, clearly, you don’t need me,” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air. “I should probably go find someone else then!“

They tensed.

You continued on, fueled by your rage. “Find someone else to care for me and hold me and pleasure me in ways you two have not. Neither of you have even touched me in weeks.” Another truth. But, it was not necessarily their fault, because life had a habit of getting in the way. You simply wanted to hurt them. “Don’t worry, you guys stay here and enjoy yourself, I’ll go out and find someone else.”

The air shifted.

Your anger had spread. It infected.

You glared, wanting some reaction. However, they stood transfixed in place with blank stares. Huffing, you spun on your heel.

So, be it.

Instantly, you smacked into something and stumbled back. Your head snapped up to see Morpheus. His haunting blue eyes bore into you - through you into the deepest parts of you. Your lips thinned as you held his gaze.

He stepped forth.

Instinctively, you stepped back.

Into Calliope.

Her arms wrapped around your waist, trapping you. You tried to squirm free, but Morpheus cleared his throat. You froze. He reached out, with his forefinger and thumb, grabbing your chin and tilted your head back. “Oh no, sweet one,” he whispered, dangerously. “You will not be going anywhere.”

“Really?” You asked, defiantly.

Calliope chuckled in your ear, amused by your act. “Oh, yes.”

You scoffed.

Morpheus’s hands wrapped around your neck, dragging you closer. His lips brushed over yours. He enunciated each word, every syllable, sharply. “You. Are. Staying.”

Fear trickled down your spine, like a wet cloth it doused your fire. Or most of it.

Without warning, Calliope dragged you off. You stumbled, and still contemplated whether to fight back. Yet, as you peered over your shoulder, Morpheus glared unwaveringly at you. You swallowed and became a little more compliant.

In your bedroom, slightly disoriented and muddled with diminishing hateful emotions, Calliope pulled you into a searing kiss. Your knees nearly buckled. You instantly clung to her as she worked her spell over you. Her nimbly fingers grazed over your body, bringing goosebumps in their wake. She quickly discards all of your clothes in a fury, all the while she stayed fully clothed.

Your hands reached out to touch her, to remove her confining layers of clothing when her hands caught your wrists. You blinked, stunned. She simply smirked.

Arms, from behind, wrapped around your waist. Morphues dragged you backwards and down into the bed. With a soft ‘oof’, your back fell into his chest, while he rested on the headboard. Oddly, his clothes also remained on. His plain shirt, usually soft, itched and rubbed against your bare back. His firm arms tightened around your waist, locking you place. He dropped his head, and his lips ghosted over your shoulder. He barely touched you, and yet you complied, giving yourself over completely.

The fire from before, the anger and jealousy vanished, died out, as you were at their mercy, and you didn’t mind.

At least for now.

Calliope, however, remained at the end of the bed. Her soft hands danced over your legs. You peered down at her, nervous and giddy. She smiled sweetly, yet her eyes twinkled with sinister intentions. Her hands spread your legs apart. Her smile widened. You were dripping. Barely minutes in and you were already like this.

“My love,” she purred.

You shivered.

Dropping to her knees, she planted feather-like kisses on the inside of your thighs. You sighed dreamily, closing your eyes. Quickly, like a switch, her delicate kisses shifted, more sinful, more demanding. She nipped and bit, marking every inch - bruising you. You gasped, your legs jerked, but Calliope’s hands kept you firmly pressed into the bed.

“Calliope,” you moaned.

You didn't say it, but she knew what you wanted. And she allowed it.

Just for this moment.

Her mouth latched onto your dripping folds, lapping up everything.

You arched your back, but Morpheus’s arms kept you in place. You squirmed in his unshakable grasp.

He chuckled against your skin. “So needy.”

You whimpered.

His hands snaked up and cupped your breast. Your head fell back onto his shoulder. He kneaded and played with you, raising you higher and higher along with Calliope’s memorizing tongue.

Calliope hummed. Her nails dug into your thighs, marking half crescents into your already bruised skin. Your breath caught in your throat. Morpheus twisted your perked nipples. You mewled, squeezing your eyes in pleasure.

“How long has it been since we’ve been together?” Morpheus whispered in your ear. “How long since you’ve been touched?”

Your breath hitched.

He nipped at your neck. “Days? Weeks, as you supposedly claim?”

You couldn’t answer. And you weren’t sure if you should.

His hands traced up the valley of your breast and curled around your neck. He squeezed gently, just as Calliope hummed again.

It sent shockwaves through you.

Your mind was in a state of frenzy. Every nerve was on fire. Weeks. It had been weeks, and you were sensitive and desperate for them. Your walls tightened around Calliope’s tongue, a sure sign of your close end. You sighed, utterly at bliss and -

She instantly pulled away.

Your eyes shot open. “Calliope -“

Morpheus squeezed your neck and you groaned immediately shutting your mouth. He dropped his hand from your neck and wrapped his arms back around your waist. “No, not yet.”

“What? No, please,” you pleaded, bucking your hips.

“And why should we?” Calliope asked, crawling up to you. “We do not satisfy you as you say.”

“Well, I - uh -“

“So, why should you get the pleasure to come?” Morpheus cut you off. “We obviously have no clue as to what to do.” One of his hands crept down, tracing your body and cupped your sex. “We obviously do not know you or your body,” he murmured, and nibbled on your ear.

You whined.

Calliope touched your cheek, turning your head and attention on her. She gently stroked your cheek. As if to ease your worries, your pains. All of it was a sweet lie. She leaned in, her lips skimmed over your lips taunting you. You chased after them desperate. She smirked, unwilling to give you the satisfaction.

“We obviously do not know you, like how we do not know of this spot,” she dipped her head into the crook of your neck. Her breath fanned against your buzzing skin, making you shiver. “And how easily you become aroused by such a simple touch.”

“Or,” Morpheus’s thumb swiped across your swollen clit and you bit your lip, moaning, “how vocal you quickly become.”

Calliope cupped your breast and slowly rolled your nipple between her fingers. You arched your back. “Or how you love to be played with.”

Morpheus’s fingers slid into your folds, and slowly began to pump in and out. You hissed, whispering a string of curses under your breath. You grind your hips down, needing more. Morpheus chuckled darkly. “Or how your body always betrays you, and shows how truly desperate you are.”

Morpheus curled his fingers, beckoning you closer and closer, leading you to your edge. You moaned their names loudly and unabashedly.

They were right.

They knew you and your body well.

Morpheus smirked. He picked up his pace, absolutely relentless. The sound of your dripping sex and Morpheus’s skillful fingers rang in your ears. You whimpered. The feeling as before build and build. You clenched your thighs and nearly trapped Morpheus’s fingers.

But, he knew you, he knew your tells.

“Oh no,” he laughed once. He deliberately removed his fingers, soaked in your juices, and brought them up into the light as if to admire them. You whimpered, praying for relief. “Not yet, sweetness.”

“Morpheus -“

“Silence.”

Your mouth clamped shut, and your sex throbbed. His demanding aura was frightening, chilling, and it turned you on immensely.

Calliope chuckled, not oblivious of Morpheus’s effect on you. “Oh, my love, you will remember who you belong to.”

Your heart flipped, both excited and terrified.

“We will have you begging and pleading and even then we may not offer you relief,” Calliope explained. “But maybe if you only show us how good you are.”

“Correct, so we will have our fun,” Morpheus said lowly. “Do you understand?”

You nodded numbly.

“Good.” They both said as wicked smirks crossed their features.

Oh, yes, you were in trouble.

It was sweet punishment. The consequences to your actions.

Minutes bleed together.

Hours passed. Or so it seemed.

Each one of them had their turn with you - toying with you. They switched on and off, using their mouth and wicked tongue to their mind numbing fingers, and sometimes both. Each of them drew you so close to the edge. You could feel the ledge and was ready to fall into bliss, only to have them instantly pull away.

You whined and begged, repeating their names over and over like broken prayers. Yet, they only smirked and continued the torment all over again.

Calliope, now laying beside you, brushed the hairs sticking to your sweat covered forehead. “You are being so good for us.”

You whimpered, leaning into her soothing touch. “Please, I - I’m sorry for what I said.”

You have apologized a dozen times, but it did not sway them.

“We know,” she said softly. She looked down to Morpheus between your legs, who was watching the two of you. “What do you say, Oneiros? Do we continue or -?”

Morpheus’s eyes flickered over to you. With droopy, hazy eyes, you slowly peered down at him. Your eyes begged for relief and forgiveness. Your breathed heavily through your swollen parted lips. Your chest, speckled with sweat, rose and fell rapidly.

It was obvious, you were spent.

He ran a single finger through your folds.

You arched your back, mumbling incoherent nonsense.

He glanced at Calliope. “I believe we’ve had enough fun, don’t you say?”

Calliope smiled. “Oh yes.”

Morpheus’s fingers, again, easily slid in. You instantly grinded down on them. His mouth took your clit and gently sucked on it as his fingers feverishly pumped into you.

He was merciless.

You cried out.

And given how long it has been going on, you were very close. Your walls fluttered down around his fingers pleading for release. He hummed, loudly.

You whined, arching your back. “Morpheus.”

“Oh, come, my sweet love,” Calliope cooed. “You have been so patient with us.”

Morphues swirled his tongue and curled his fingers.

And that alone was enough.

You clamped down in his fingers, seeing stars as you moaned out their names. Morpheus eagerly removed his fingers and lapped up your juices. You squirmed and cried out in utter bliss.

Morpheus pulled away, chin soaked, to see you breathless and face buried into the bed. Calliope smiled gently down at you stroking your hair, grounding you back to Earth. Morpheus swiftly walked off grabbing a wet cloth and returned to clean you up while Calliope whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Quickly, the both of them crawled into bed pulling the sheets up over all three of you. Facing Calliope, you hugged her, drawing her closer, feeling her warmth. She peppered your face in butterfly kisses, while Morpheus, from behind kissed your shoulder.

“You were so good for us,” Calliope whispered.

Yet, as they showered you with their love. An ache built in your heart. The events from early resurfaced and the dull reminder of hateful emotions. You sniffled, as tears brimmed in your eyes.

“Oh, my love,” Calliope cupped your face, whipping away the tears. “Were we too -“

“It’s not you,” you blubbered out.

Morpheus wrapped his arms around your waist, comforting you. “Talk to us, love.”

“I am so sorry,” you mumbled as your throat clenched. You said it multiple times throughout the night, but you needed them to know how immensely sorry and guilty you were. “I said such awful things and I let my emotions get the better of me and -“

“Shhhhh,” Calliope cooed. “All is forgiven, you needn’t worry.”

“But - but I -“

“We are all captive to our emotions, and we simply need to learn from our mistakes and move forward.”

Morpheus kissed the back of your neck. “You know of my past, you know I have let pride and anger consume me. But now I am actively trying to do better, as well all are. We may stumble but it is those around us who pick us up and encourage us to try again who truly help.”

You nodded. Your heart now alleviated from the sorrowful pains and aches.

“And you are not solely to blame,” Calliope whispered, stroking your cheek. “You were also right, we have neglected you. Our attention was pulled elsewhere, but we will try better.”

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t apologize. You have duties pertaining to the whole world, and I shouldn’t put you at blame for that.”

“And yet, we also have a duty to you,” Morpheus hummed.

“He is right,” Calliope stated. “We agreed to this, and we failed you. But, it is not a mistake we will make twice.”

“Agreed.”

You smiled softly. “Okay, let’s promise here for a new start and to do better in the future.”

“I promise.” Calliope kissed your forehead.

“As do I,” Morpheus kissed between your shoulder blades.

You leaned forward kissing Calliope’s cheek, and she blushed under the gesture. You grabbed Morpheus’s hand and brought it up to your lips kissing his knuckles. He smiled softly against your back. “I promise too,” you whispered.

#the sandman #the sandman smut #the sandman dream #calliope #dream of the endless #Morpheus #morpheus x reader #calliope x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #calliope x fem!reader #calliope x reader smut #morpheus x reader smut #Morpheus x reader x calliope #afab!reader #the sandman imagine #morpheus smut #calliope smut #smut

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sitp-recs · 4 months

Note

Hey!

Thanks for all the great work you do for the fandom! I couldn't go through the entire masterlist so not sure if this rec has already been answered.

Do you have any drarry fics which is just a complete emotional roller-coaster ride? Something very emotional and gut-wrenching?

Thanks again!

Hi anon, you’re very welcome! Sure thing, here are my favorites. This list has a focus on long fics but if you’re into shorts I also did an angsty rec list here. Happy Holidays!

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

Stop All the Clocks (This Is the Last Time I’m Leaving Without You) by @firethesound (E, 44k)

Living with Draco was difficult; living without him is unbearable. But if there’s one thing Harry learned from the war, it’s that even when one life ends, the rest of the world goes right on living.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore (M, 82k)

When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.

Dwelling by aideomai (T, 83k)

Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot. But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Another Mask Behind You by lettered (E, 116k)

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Away Childish Things by lettered (T, 153k)

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 302k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #emotional rollercoaster

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thoughtfulbearpanda · 4 months

Text

Daily Message for the Collective!

Hey y'all! hope everyone's doing well! I have daily message for you today!

This is a timeless reading, so remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. Remember that you have free will and nothing is set in stone. Yes, this is intended for entertainment purposes but if any serious topics that come up in these readings that you find yourself resonating with, please seek aid or professional help if you are inclined to do so. Also, if anything in this reading is triggering for you don't feel the need to continue reading; please prioritize your mental and emotional health.

A revelation may present itself for you today collective. There is something here that is going to be revealed to you; this could be something that you may have been waiting a long time to hear; this could be confirmation for some of you. Maybe someone or some people have been keeping something hidden from out of jealousy, out of fear, could be in relation to a job with the 10 of pentacles here. 'Secrets do not stay buried', so whatever has been brewing behind the scenes, whomever has been keeping you in the dark, it will be revealed.

Some of you could be coming into financial riches, or ancestral wealth. Some of you could be working towards building and securing a legacy for yourselves, I'm getting generational wealth. maybe you've been sitting on some choices regarding money and or legacy. For a few of you, some of you have been battling choices in regards to your will. Who should you leave it to you? Should you leave it to anyone to keep it fair? You may have been weighing on this decision for awhile, and you will get that clarity you've been seeking today or in the days to come. But again, that's for a few of you.

Pay attention to your dreams, I'm getting that for some of you. Today or the days to come may leave you in confusion, so try to ground yourself: going for a walk, meditating, getting fresh air, tending to your garden, spending time with family or with your pets. Appreciate what you have now, try not to get lost in the fog.

Shadow message: If you have a habit of inserting yourself into situations that don't pertain to you, now would be a good time to reign in that habit. For those of who do this, ask yourself why do you do it? Are you being nosey? Do you like gossip? Are trying to make the other person feel better? Are you unconsciously trying to make yourself the center of attention? Is this a way for to better connect to the person/situation? Is there an insecurity that you are not conscious of that compels you to do it?

For others, there could be haters in your mist, there could be people giving you the evil eye. This could be a call for you to start downsizing your friend group; there are those in your mist that could be secretly resenting you for what you have and those dangerous folks to be around. Not everyone who smiles in your face is your friend. So start paying attention to who you are surrounded by and use discernment to start removing the toxic people from your life.

Ancestral Messages for Today

"When the sun is shining, bask in it."

"Truth and morning become light with time."

That's all for today, folks! Stay safe and stay blessed!

*decks used: Asotele tarot and Okana oracle by Akamara Tarot

#pick a card #tarot reading #divination #tarot #tarot cards #tarotblr #black tarot readers

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nancydrewwouldnever · 3 months

Note

not trying to be rude but do you know if Chris is even going through negotiations for projects behind the scenes ? Obviously him doing all these stupid pap and pr is to find work but like we don’t know if there something brewing. It just seems like everyone acting like it takes two days get a projects. Don’t it take a couple of weeks/months ?

It takes months to fully negotiate, you're right, and usually you can't talk about it/post it until it's a done deal. I don't know if the post is still on his IG grid, but when he first posted about his casting in TGM (which I think was early Dec 2020) he made a remark that he had been excited about it "for months." Sometimes there will be a very quick casting, but that usually happens when a previous project falls through.

As to what's happening with him now... no one knows anything. I'm not seeing his name written up in trade publications the way it once was. I'd assume being in LA for awards week was about trying to schmooze for projects, but that's only my assumption, I have no info. I do, however, find it interesting he was there when the first news of this new "super secret" P.T. Anderson ensemble project broke free, and he's always said how much he wants to be in one of that director's films.

#ask

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onedaughterofman · 1 year

Text

You, forever (Chapter V: Kiss the goat under the spell)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV x g/n reader

Summary: The Clergy takes something from Copia, but he refuses to let go.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and corpses. Non graphic sex. There's a short stillbirth scene. I market the beginning and the end of it, so you can skip it if it's triggering.

PART I HERE / PART II HERE / PART III HERE / PART IV HERE

The night is beautiful and dark. Naked under the moonlight, Imperator grasps Nihil’s wrist as he holds her close, breathing into her neck.

Imperator’s skin is pale, obscured by the rusty color of blood. It feels cold, so cold and thick on her burning body. And it’s good, almost as good as Nihil’s warm tongue over her veins and arteries, biting and sucking.

October’s moon is high in the sky, a blazing lighthouse that illuminates both of them and the altar around. It’s mesmerizing the way the pale light shines on her skin, bathing it with a silver halo. The long, black dress lays forgotten on the ground, outside the casting circle and right next to Nihil’s clothes.

Counting the minutes, Imperator breathes. The sacred hour is soon to come. The distant chimes will break the spectral silence of the woods to consecrate the ritual, and soon, she’ll know if all these studies and preparations have been worth the effort.

In front of her, Nihil leans down to kiss her again. He tastes like blood and strong alcohol, leaving behind a burning sensation on her own tongue. There’s a remnant of herbs, of rosemary and a bit of blackberries and chocolate, too. Nihil drank the brewing as soon as he entered the circle, signaling the beginning of the unholy process.

Imperator may not belong to the most influential circles of the Clergy, not yet, but that doesn’t mean she can’t have hope. She, and only she, managed to bring the long distanced son back. She convinced Nihil to take his righteous place in the church; she initiated him under a blood ritual. A powerful one, meant to seal his destiny and ordain his duties.

At this time, Imperator also dreams. This ritual is ancient, written in an archaic language that required years of her life to decipher. Gathering the necessary items was a time consuming duty, too. Now, everything lays in front of her own eyes, barely illuminated by the faint light from the black candles.

Tonight, Imperator will do it. She’ll summon Satan himself.

The Devil is a supreme figure, a king among kings, an Emperor of Hell. Still, he’s also a gentleman. He’ll come if he’s called upon by a lady, by an Empress.

“What are we waiting for?”

Nihil’s lips graze every little corner he can reach, never stopping for more than a few seconds as if he is hesitant of where to touch and taste. Imperator’s fingers are red when she allows them to curl around his neck, bringing him closer.

“The chimes,” she replies, whispering in his ear. A shiver runs down his spine, bringing every nerve on his skin to life. “Once they chime three times, you can do anything you want to me.”

The smell of incense and herbs is dazzling, dark smoke swirling around their bodies. It burns on their lungs, heavy and intoxicating at the same time. Nihil’s pupils are wide, eyes big on his face when he smiles at her, tracing her cheekbones with his fingertips. “I’ve never heard about this Hunter’s Moon ritual.”

“Because you never paid attention to any class.”

Her voice never falters. The confidence is strong, almost as strong as Nihil’s hold on her. It’s good he trusts her with his life, blindly so. Obviously, this long lost ritual is not in any type of book. She found it hidden in an old scroll nobody wanted to translate. The ink was almost faded and the paper was stained and yellow, thin like a veil. Despite that, she worked so hard during nights and days, for months to come. Book after book, scroll after scroll, she uncovered every secret.

Satan’s invocation, the key to becoming the Prime Mover the prophecy anticipated… it’s all in her hands, within her reach. Imperator can practically feel it at the tip of her fingers, tingling.

Tonight is the night. His kingdom will come, and she’ll be the one to welcome Him to this world.

The sound of the distant bells brings shivers on her skin. Imperator sees the fire inside Nihil’s pupils, experiencing the raw potential of his poorly contained excitement. At any moment, she knows it. She can feel it coming.

Breathing deep doesn’t help fill her lungs with oxygen. The air is heated, moist and saturated with smoke. Imperator senses the rise in temperature, the sweet and sour smell of sulfur and burning wood. Then, Nihil’s body becomes tense, so tense she almost fears he will double down and faint.

He doesn’t. Muscles shaking, he leans harder on her. There’s a glint of sweat on his forehead and his pupils are blown, so dark inside his light irises. When his eyes close, he falls like a lifeless puppet. Following him to the ground, Imperator rushes to place her palms on his cheeks, chest heaving almost as much as his.

At long last, the sound dies. The bells are silent, and the only noise is the soft creaking of fire. Under the dark veil of the night, Imperator feels the bile rising up her throat as the knot in her stomach tightens. When Nihil’s eyelids twitch and open, she can’t hold the tears from falling down her face.

He is here. She can feel Him, deep in her bones, right to the core. His eyes are made of fire, a gaze so intense it sets her body ablaze. It’s a burning light, brighter than the moon and any other star, but so deep at the same time. Imperator feels like she’s staring at the vast immensity of the void, only to find the void is staring right back at her.

His fingers are hot when he reaches up to wipe away a tear. Imperator gathers a quivering breath, letting her mouth fall agape. He is… a force she has never encountered before, a heavy embrace both comforting and terrorizing at the same time. He is a pulsating, enthralling entity with eyes like a vortex in which she can’t help but to fall.

Tonight, to his arms she leaps. Drowning right into the depth of Satan’s eyes, Imperator looks up to the moon and prays.

The melody is gentle, an airy hum that resonates inside her rib-cage and deep within her throat. The vibrations travel down her chest, through her stomach and low into her abdomen, where her hands rest as her fingers trace the intricate pattern of the worn black sweater.

Alone in a dimly lit room, Imperator sings a song that lives in her memory only. She no longer recognizes the face of the person who sang it to her when she was a child, whether it was her own mother or just one of the Siblings of Sin in charge of the orphans inside the Ministry. It doesn’t matter. The melody sparks a wave of warmth in her body, a tender feeling of coziness that she treasures nevertheless.

The bulge on her abdomen is barely discernible under the thick wool. Even so, she knows the slight curve is not a product of her imagination, but of her sacrifices. Imperator’s fingers close over the sweater, allowing herself to rest her eyes as she breathes. The window is obscured by condensation, blurry with the droplets of water that cling to the surface.Outside, the wind blows strongly, a loud howling that runs through the room before disappearing in the distance.

It’s raining. It always rains lately. The apartment she rented a few weeks ago feels foreign and humid, too empty for her taste. A part of her misses dearly the ancient statues and colored glass of the Ministry, wishes she could confidently walk through the interminable corridors again.

It’s useless. Imperator doesn’t consider herself someone to dwell in the past. She can’t, when there’s a new life thriving with potential inside her womb. The ritual worked, and Satan blessed her with a child she already loves even if she doesn’t know his face.

A boy, the nurses said. A baby boy, small but healthy, who should be born in only a few months.

Imperator can’t wait. Over the silence, her voice repeats the melody a bit louder, enjoying the vibrations in her throat. A child will come, a product of all her love and devotion towards the Lord. It’s the greatest gift that has been given to her.

A child. Her child. And she only needed to sacrifice everything to get him.

Imperator’s throat constricts as she inhales. The frosty air makes her insides shiver, tremble with anticipation. Her whole life she devoted it to tending the Ministry, to escalating inside the ranks and making her own name known inside those walls.

The Clergy didn’t like that someone like her, who came from no one and was no one, became fundamentally important and prominent. Yet, she has managed to secure her place. She fought and conquered everything she desired, just to prove them wrong.

Imperator lived a whole life of fighting and searching for a place to belong to, of yearning for something to make it all make sense. She earned it all, and then offered it to the Dark Lord in exchange for something even greater.

Satan accepted.

Now, Nihil is gone, just like her position in the Clergy and her home in the Ministry. Imperator tries so hard not to think about it, but the nights are cold and long and she’s only a woman who used to love a man. A man who, in the end, never knew how to love her back the way she needed.

It makes sense, somehow. What you give away, you can’t reclaim. Imperator offered Nihil to Satan, gave Him their conjoined power and their soul. Satan took it. Nihil never treated her the same after the ritual, almost as if he suspected something was awry, as if he knew she had set him up. He became distant, colder, more tempted by the Siblings and then the groupies that swarmed around him.

And, as always, Imperator had to accept the harsh reality. Nothing belonged to her only. All she has possessed, since birth, was borrowed from someone else. A poor orphan, lost in the long hallways, condemned to search forever for her place, destined to fight for the right to occupy space.

A profound sigh exits her lips, halting the melody. Nothing matters anymore. This baby, her son, belongs to her. Satan presented him to her only. Those days of not having anything or anyone to call her own will soon be gone. They'll become nothing but a bitter memory that will cling to the back of her mind until she buries it under new, fonder memories.

Her baby, her child, her son. The chosen one, the one whose arrival was foretold by the prophecy. And it’s all thanks to her, to her pain and devotion, to her love and thirst for power. For the first time in her life, someone looked into her eyes and chose her first. Satan did, and oh, how loved she felt.

How loved she still feels. She’s thrilled, fortunate. This baby growing and developing from her will have such a promising, amazing future. He’ll be loved and will love her the same. They’ll rule, together, and no one will ever hurt them again.

As the wind howls and the rain falls, Imperator closes her eyes and sings to the moon.

--- --- ---

The boy is born dead.

Through the pain and the medication, Imperator’s hands reach into thin air. The ghastly lights of the hospital room are too bright, almost blinding in her weary eyes. Her pupils are blown, coated by tears that run down her cheeks and mix with her sweat.

This can’t be happening. All her pain, her rage, her sacrifices and devotion… Was it all for nothing? Hasn’t she given up enough? Doesn’t she deserve love and happiness, too?

Around her, the noises become nothing but a loud, incessant rumble that is barely discernible over the wild pounding of her own heart. Imperator’s fingers reach out to the doctors, even when her sight is blurry and obscured and she can feel the viscous blood dripping from her thighs.

Her child. She needs to see his face.

Her baby.

Her greatest gift…

An eternity passes in front of her. Imperator’s skin feels sickly, extremely pale and waxy. Still, it’s nothing compared to the gray color of her son when the nurses place him on top of her body, wrapped in light blue blankets. She disregards the sorrow in their eyes, dismissing their condolences as her lips stretch in a trembling, tight smile.

Imperator’s fingers are rigid, cramped when she secures them around her son’s fist.

Oh, how small and cold he is. But, also, how beautiful. He looks so much like her, so tiny and delicate. Her baby, her own child…

Is dead.

The tears start dripping down her neck, getting lost somewhere in her hospital robes. Everything hurts so much, outside and inside her body and mind. The thoughts run fast, crashing against the walls of her brain and jumping from one place to another, screaming, yelling to the void.

On her chest, the baby is light as a feather and delicate, so precious. He’s the chosen one. Why is he dead, then?

Hasn't she given enough?

Hasn’t she…?

The prophecy never foretold the death of the infant. The demise of the mother, maybe, but that’s a risk Imperator was willing to take. She offered so much to Satan to sweeten up the deal. She even sent a couple of souls his way, just to beg for a chance to live to see her son become the One. And now, Satan is silent and cold, almost like her son.

It’s the silence, in the end, which bothers her the most. The beeping of machines and the rumble of doctors and nurses voices is gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Imperator can’t take it. Gradually, her voice rises in that familiar melody buried deep in her heart and memory.

To a small corpse, she sings. For hours and hours, she prays.

In front of her eyes, when the tears are dry and her arms are stiff, the baby begins to faintly cry.

--- --- ---

The child in front of her is crying. Imperator kneels down, a slight smile on her lips as she offers her hand to him. He takes it, as always, rushing into her arms and hiding his little face on her chest.

“What happened now, C?”

For a long moment, the child only sobs. Memories resurface in Imperator’s mind, of nights and nights of wailing and crying before she had to inevitably entrust him to the Siblings of Sin. Sacrifices are required, Satan said, and the child had to grow surrounded by occultism and knowledge exclusively available inside the Ministry.

How much they both cried that day… How big the pain was, how hard the sacrifice. Imperator left the baby on the chapel’s steps before disappearing into the night, shaking and swallowing her sorrow. The pungent taste of her own anguish never subsided, until Nihil called her back years after, pleading for help.

Even after all that time, she recognized him. The moment she saw him, shorter than other kids and covered in bruises and scratches, she knew it was her boy.

Her baby. Her little C.

Oh, how much she held on for the moment to go back to him. Still, she had patience. Imperator knew she couldn’t let Nihil or the Clergy know the kid was part of the bloodline. She heard the horror stories, knew the pressure and the dangerous rituals they were put under to prepare the heirs to take a place as leaders of the church.

It’s not a secret that the Ministry is built on the blood and pain of a bloodline cursed since birth. Imperator doesn’t care about what kind of suffering and tests Nihil’s kids are forced into, as long as they don’t fall on Copia.

Long time ago, Nihil confessed to her how he used to feel so trapped inside the Ministry, so scared. He saw things no other kid his age should have seen and the blood, fire, destruction and pain marked him deep to the core. That’s why he ran away when he was a teenager, until destiny inevitably seized him.

It doesn’t matter what it takes. Imperator can’t let the same people raise her baby alone. No, she will do it herself as much as she can, hiding in the shadows and pulling all the strings that she needs to.

Nothing will harm him. Not when C clings to her clothes, staining them in tears and snot.

“You came,” he says, voice gentle and trembling. His little fists struggle to clean the wetness of his cheeks, before Imperator’s fingers sweep away the tears, lightly caressing his skin. He’s always covered in scratches and dirt, due to being targeted by other kids stronger and bigger than him.

Even if Imperator knows she can’t be there all the time to protect him, she's sure one day justice will come. And how much she prays and wishes to be there to see him rise to his destiny.

Nothing, and no one, will ever cast any evil upon him again. Until then, the task falls on her. She’ll do anything to shelter him.

Anything.

“Of course, little C. I’m with you, always.”

The kid laughs. The sound is airy, light as the wind, and it awakens something so tender inside her abdomen. A long, lost feeling of life growing in her, of hope and dreams for the years to come. Imperator has to gather a deep breath before speaking up again. “So, tell me. What do you want to do?”

As always, the kid shines when she’s with him. Imperator’s hands pat his hair, fixing his hair behind his ears. “Let’s play outside, Sister,” the kid says, pulling on her sleeves. “Everyone is in the Chapel, so we’ll be alone!”

She follows him when he bolts, running and jumping in excitement. A blindfold over her eyes, Imperator chases the kid around the backyard, enjoying the way the sun caresses her skin with the last dying rays.

Standing on the same patio where they used to play, Imperator looks up to the moon. It feels incredible to bask in the warm light coming from the pyre. The heat is welcomed, maybe only a bit overly harsh on her exposed skin. Nevertheless she remains in place, eyes closed, lips lifted at the corners.

On an old armchair behind her back, Copia only stares. He’s silent, a deep furrow plastered on his face. The shadows dance over his factions, making him look older than he genuinely is, sharper at the edges. By his side, two Nameless Ghouls stand in guard, like restless gargoyles.

Those piercing eyes, Imperator endures them digging on her flesh even when she sleeps. The pungent smoke inflates her lungs when she inhales sharply. The air leaves behind a strong, sour aftertaste on her tongue. Tonight, the pyre is huge. There must be dozens of bodies piled up together, turning into ashes and dust under the ruthless flames.

What a beautiful sight it is, to see the fire dance and grow under the hazy sky. And to think everything started with Saltarian and the other influential members of the Clergy. Then, Cardi wanted more and more. The anger stored in his guts couldn’t be tamed with only a few murders.

No, it demanded blood and sacrifice. Imperator is proud, immensely proud of the boy. Copia is bearing the mark of the devil now. He has become a whole different person since his rebirth, someone who has an incredible resemblance to his father in Hell.

Death after death, he has gotten stronger, more dangerous but also colder. They are all gone, Siblings, Cardinals, Bishops, elderly scribes, apprentices and teachers. The Ministry is in shambles, falling into decay.

From the ruins of an established kingdom, another new one will rise. It will be stronger, better. A new dark era is rising, just as it has been forewarned. The gates of Hell are now wide open and the demons roam the earth, hungry for blood.

And then, coated in the same bloodlust, Copia’s voice rises over the creaking fire.

“We are alone in the Ministry, Sister.”

Folding her hands over her abdomen, Imperator turns around and faces him. In the distance, the bells toll just like they did decades ago, when it all started. The old, distorted melody resonates loudly in her ears, an omen she inevitably recognizes.

Tonight is a beautiful night to die.

PART VI

Ps: I wanted to post this before moving. I'm probably going to be really busy next week, so I'm not going to be able to post as much as I'm used to.

This chapter is made to mirror the first chapter of the fic. I feel like, in this story, Imperator's love towards Copia resembles Copia's love for his s/o (although one is platonic mother/child and the other is romantic). In the end, they both share the same obsessive/idealizing way of loving someone, and they are willing to commit all types of atrocities just to guarantee their wellbeing.

I used the songs Kiss the Go-Goat, Prime Mover, Depth of Satan's eyes and Under the Spell (from Me and That Man ft. Mary Goore) as inspiration.

#ghost band #ghost band fanfic #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #evil cardinal copia #antichrist copia #ghost band x reader #the band ghost #sister imperator #papa nihil #cardinal copia x reader #my writing #my fics

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seagull-energy · 7 months

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BUCKLE UP, FOLKS, IT'S TIME FOR SOME BIG THOUGHTS ABOUT SEPTEMBER 29THS NEWSLETTER ENTRY! (this took so long omg, I got very busy) VERY long post incoming.

First of all, the entire barrow scene is INCREDIBLY creepy, but I want to highlight this bit in particular:

'What in the name of wonder?' began Merry, feeling the golden circlet that had slipped over one eye. Then he stopped, and a shadow came over his face, and he closed his eyes. 'Of course, I remember!' he said. 'The men of Carn Dûm came on us at night, and we were worsted. Ah! the spear in my heart!' He clutched at his breast. 'No! No!' he said, opening his eyes. 'What am I saying? I have been dreaming. Where did you get to, Frodo?'

Hey, what's happening here??? Is Merry being possessed by the unhoused spirit of a man of Arnor?? This is another one of those things that is just dropped in, never explained, and then moved past and it's REALLY SCARY.

Then, does this line remind anyone else of Macbeth? Specifically the scene where he sees the line of Banquo's descendants. Like, compare these two texts:

The hobbits did not understand his words, but as he spoke they had a vision as it were of a great expanse of years behind them, like a vast shadowy plain over which there strode shapes of Men, tall and grim with bright swords, and last came one with a star on his brow.

A show of eight kings, the eighth king with a glass in his hand, and Banquo last. MACBETH Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo. Down! Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs. And thy hair, Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. A third is like the former. [...] A fourth? Start, eyes! What, will the line stretch out to th’ crack of doom? Another yet? A seventh? I’ll see no more. And yet the eighth appears who bears a glass Which shows me many more, and some I see That twofold balls and treble scepters carry.

Obviously it's not a one-to-one comparison, but the Vibes are similar. (The use of the phrase 'crack of doom' in the Macbeth passage is also interesting, although I think that's probably a coincidence rather than anything else) LotR obviously has other well-known Macbeth connections, but this is one I only just noticed. (I really hope this comes off as similar to someone else and I'm not just coming up with nonsense)

As soon as his back was turned, a dark figure climbed quickly in over the gate and melted into the shadows of the village street.

I LOVE THIS MOMENT because reading it for the first time, anyone's first assumption is that this is going to be a Black Rider, but (spoilers) IT'S NOT! What a brilliant little subversion!

Frodo, Pippin, and Sam decided to join the company. Merry said it would be too stuffy. 'I shall sit here quietly by the fire for a bit, and perhaps go out later for a sniff of the air. Mind your Ps and Qs, and don't forget that you are supposed to be escaping in secret, and are still on the high-road and not very far from the Shire!'

If only they'd listened to Merry... I feel like Merry's practicality and good sense gets overlooked a lot. In these early chapters his status as 'most well traveled of the group' really comes across

Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits.

Words cannot express how much I love this description (and Strider's introduction as a whole)

There is an inn, a merry old inn beneath an old grey hill, And there they brew a beer so brown That the Man in the Moon himself came down one night to drink his fill. [...]

*The Cat and the Moon from the LotR musical starts blasting in my head*

And now... the Aragorn list... (my thoughts are in list format because otherwise I will just be pasting large chunks of the entry here, and I've already done enough of that)

what was he doing behind the hedge on the Road???

"I slipped over the gate just behind them." and there's the payoff to that spooky moment earlier!!! It goes from 'oooh a Black Rider might have followed them' to 'nope, it was actually just this dude who wants to help them' to 'OH SHIT THE BLACK RIDERS WERE ALREADY HERE' a little later. Good stuff :D

"a secret that concerned me and my friends" I'm curious which friends he means here. Probably the Dunedain, maybe the sons of Elrond as well? Anyway, it's a fun little note

Okay now I need to break the list format because WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT ARAGORN'S RELATIONSHIP WITH THE RIDERS

'[...] They will come on you in the wild, in some dark place where there is no help. Do you wish them to find you? They are terrible!' The hobbits looked at him, and saw with surprise that his face was drawn as if with pain, and his hands clenched the arms of his chair. The room was very quiet and still, and the light seemed to have grown dim. For a while he sat with unseeing eyes as if walking in distant memory or listening to sounds in the Night far away.

So uh, Aragorn doesn't just know OF the Riders, he knows the Riders. He's obviously speaking from experience here, and iirc this is never expanded upon. What happened between them? And when did it happen?

'[...]I am afraid my only answer to you, Sam Gamgee, is this. If I had killed the real Strider, I could kill you. And I should have killed you already without so much talk. If I was after the Ring, I could have it – NOW!' He stood up, and seemed suddenly to grow taller. In his eyes gleamed a light, keen and commanding. Throwing back his cloak, he laid his hand on the hilt of a sword that had hung concealed by his side. They did not dare to move. Sam sat wide-mouthed staring at him dumbly. 'But I am the real Strider, fortunately,' he said, looking down at them with his face softened by a sudden smile. 'I am Aragorn son of Arathorn; and if by life or death I can save you, I will.'

Chills. I love him. So much. Also, SURPRISE! It's art time!!

[ID: A digital drawing of Aragorn from Lord of the Rings. He has pale skin and shoulder length dark brown hair. He is wearing a brown quilted vest, brown trousers, a cream shirt with puffy sleeves, and a dark green cloak. He is looking slightly down and to his left (image right). His left hand is resting on his chest and his right hand is resting on a sword belted at his waist. The drawing has dark, blue-gray lighting and the background is a rough blue-gray rectangle. /end id]

Andddd now for one more thought: there is no mention of him having a second sword, which implies that his ONLY WEAPON in these DANGEROUS TIMES is just the shards of Narsil. Unhinged behavior, I love that for him

Moving on from Aragorn now! (although I will have many more things to say about him later)

'[the Black Rider] seemed to make off up the Road, eastward,' continued Merry. 'I tried to follow. Of course, it vanished almost at once; but I went round the corner and on as far as the last house on the Road.'

MERRY. WTF. Okay so this is 1) extremely brave and 2) not actually a terrible idea in theory. Trying to find out where the Rider was going and what it was doing would be smart, IF IT WASN'T ONE OF THE ENEMY'S MOST DANGEROUS SERVANTS THAT SHOULD BE AVOIDED AT ALL COSTS

[Merry said] "I could hardly help myself. I seemed to be drawn somehow."

FORESHADOWING????? Actually looking at both this and the thing with the wights that I talked about at the beginning of this ramble, merry actually has a pretty strong link with the wraiths from the beginning, which is INTERESTING!

Okay I think that's everything I wanted to say. I'm so sad this took me so long to write because now there's been a whole WEEK of entries that I haven't talked about or done art for :((( Weathertop at least will probably get some love at some point, but rn my art brain is telling me to draw the entire cast of the musical so we'll see how I balance things :)

#lotr #lotr newsletter #seagull.thoughts #seagull.art

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dundermisfits · 1 year

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Michael’s date

Pairing: Michael Scott x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @johnnysmarr

Plot: Ohayo! 😊 could I request something for Michael Scott? A scene where it's their first date together and the reader is really shy but Michael makes her feel comfortable as possible? Thank you 🩷

***

You had been working for Dunder Mifflin for about a good four years now, and since Pam started at about the same time, you both became instant friends.

Seeing that as it be with Pam being your closest friend and all, you were discovering new feelings for your manager, Michael Scott and those feelings grow stronger every day, so much that you are uncertain on how much longer you could hold your secret crush in. You didn’t even want to say a word of this to Pam, despite of her being your closest friend. In all honestly, you weren’t quite sure how to approach and take a look at those feelings in your head.

The very day Michael had asked you for a date, you hoped for that first first date experience in the past could finally be left behind. It was one of those where your date “forgets” his wallet and you ended up having to use almost your full paychecks for whatever activity you chose to go do. You wanted to shake it out of your head, but of course it was impossible… for now at least. There were plenty of fish in the sea, and everyone had to do the waiting until the right one for them swims by for you to catch.

So when it came time for you date with Michael Scott, who by the way, asked you out two years after you started working for the company, it was pretty obvious that you were a little shy once Michael swings by to pick you up for your date night. But a hint of confidence started brewing within you when Michael doesn’t just show up by himself, but with a bouquet of your favorite colored roses. The next thing that helped you to become less shy was when he offered his arm out for you to take before walking you out to his car parked next to the curb. It was as if he had a sixth sense that allowed for him to read your emotions and to know how you must be feeling, while driving to the restaurant were reservations had been made, Michael started asking you the getting to know you questions in addition outside of the office.

While doing so, one of the first questions he asks you is what kind of music genre you preferred and when you told him rock, hard rock, punk rock, and alternative, he turns the radio on to the rock station and the first song you both get to hear is The Offspring’s “Self Esteem” and before you know it, you’re both singing along to it, although Michael does find it a tad bit obnoxious.

“The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care. Right? Yeah!”

Your date with Michael was actually the first date you’ve ever been on, and all you could say it gave you the time of your life as it seemed to end rather too quickly.

There was definitely a connection between you and Michael, as for the next day while working in the warehouse department, Michael had come down not to just visit you, but to also hide from his boss, Jan. But when he gets to where you are, he sees Roy hitting on you once again while making yet another attempt to ask you out. Michael steps into your defense and suspended Roy from his job and paycheck before calling Hank to come and escort Roy to his car while staying behind to make sure Roy was off company property. After having made sure you were okay, Michael decides to take you back upstairs to the office and that’s exactly where Jan was waiting with her arms crossed and an agitated expression before Michael explained what happened just minutes before returning.

Jan takes it to David Wallace and speaks to him about it, along with Toby. The result of this happening was corporate fired Roy and refused him his last paycheck. When the end of the work day comes up close, Michael called you back to his small office space and asks you out for a second date. Of course, you accept and a fun night exploring New York in the cold weather together.

After several more dates together, you both made your relationship official not to just family and friends outside of work, but eventually to everyone you worked with in the office.

They all now know.

The relationship lasted two years until Michael decides it’s time to get you a ring, he felt the timing was right and he was ready to pop the question and make big comments with you, and it was truly a happy ending.

You said “Yes” to his proposal.

***

@dundermisfits

Requests: open

Characters:

• Michael Scott

• Dwight Shrute

• Andy Bernard

• David Wallace

• Jim

• Pam

• Angela Martin

• Kelly Kapoor

• Karen

• Erin

#the office imagines #the office imagine #the office x reader #the office #michael scott #dwight schrute #david wallace #jim #pam #karen #angela martin #kelly kapoor #request #requested #requests

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ladyloveandjustice · 1 year

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Fall 2022 Anime Overview- Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

It’s time to start reviewing the anime I watched in the fall season! There’s some anime I chose to save for later, like Bocchi the Rock! (which I’m watching now and enjoying) and Raven of the Inner Palace, though I’ve heard great things about it and it’s a rare shoujosei adaptation so definitely go check it out! I might do a review of that when I do get to watch it, since it’s been overlooked this season with so many heavy hitters.

But onto what I did watch! And this one has so much to chew on it gets a whole post to itself.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

A top contender for anime of the year for me. It’s not over yet though, so I pray it sticks the landing with the next season(s).

The anime follows Suletta Mercury, a girl who arrives at a new school (and new planet!) with her giant robot Aerial. Quickly she discovers a girl named Miorine, who’s desperate to escape to Earth because her bigwig father has decreed that people can duel with their giant robots for Miorine’s hand in marriage. Mio is not at all on board with this, especially because her current fiance is an abusive jerk. Suletta confronts the jerk fiance, challenges him to a duel and...well, you can probably guess what happens, especially if you’ve seen Revolutionary Girl Utena.

(And if you haven’t, go watch it! Though look up content warnings if you’ve got specific triggers or don’t often deal with darker media. I’ve got an episode breakdown here!)

Anyway, Gundam said Gay Space Rights.

Meanwhille, Suletta’s mother, Prospera (yes, it’s a codename AND a reference to The Tempest) has a thirst for revenge after a horrible wrong was done to her by the terrible corporation Mio’s dad heads, and has secret plan brewing behind the scenes. There’s alson conflict between Earthlings and the space-faring people who are exploiting them. Meanwhile all poor Suletta wanted to do is make some friends and enjoy a couple of dates!

This anime is so good so far, and was specifically targeted for me in so many ways it’s not funny. A fun cast of characters? Well written queer girls? Shadowy parental manipulation? A protagonist who’s sweet and shy yet supremely dangerous? Good action that’s driven by good character dynamics? Lots of cool women kicking ass? Tangled relationships and tons or well written relationship drama?

I’ve definitely enjoyed a few mecha shows (like Planet With),but I tend to bounce off them, in part because I have a hard time telling what’s happening when robots are fighting and the technobabble starts flowing. That still is occasionally an issue in this show, but because the fights are so driven by character conflict and there’s clear stakes I can follow along with (like the fact using a Gundam for too long is supposed to kill you), it’s not as much as an issue as it usually is. And Gundam knew exactly how to lure me in. The second I heard the whole first episode was a Utena reference, it pulled me in and I’ve enjoyed every second since.

The whole first episode echoing Utena does show the show’s pedigree (the series composer actually wrote the Utena light novels) and offers a little reassurance for audiences hoping it delivers on its queer storylines But the show is no rip-off, and it it very much does its own thing from that point on. Suletta isn’t Utena, and Miorine isn’t Anthy and this is apparent from the first episode. Suletta is achingly insecure, Miorine isn’t resigned to being a bride and has a short temper and abrasive attitude. The show isn’t about gender or compulsory heterosexuality (so far), it just has a lot of complex female characters in a wide variety of roles and has a developing romance between two women as the central relationship.

But like Utena, abuse is a huge theme, but very specifically parental abuse. Both Miorine and Suletta are being used as tools by their parents in a complex political game- Miorine is aware of this (though not the full scope of it, probably) while poor Suletta is very much in the dark. The way the parents use their children is chilling, but not without complexity- there are reasons to sympathize with Prospera, even if her treatment of her daughter is unforgiveable. She feels like a person, even thought we don’t know her full story.

The show also isn’t subtle about it’s political themes!

That particular conflict has been bubbling in the background, but handled well so far (there are some great, more subtle moments, like the news showing the ‘weapons’ from the protest above, which included ‘molotov cocktails’ clearly put there by the police, and...an umbrella.) But even if works have themes I like or agree with, what really matters to me is the characters and if they’re executed well. Fortunately, the show has a loveable cast whose journeys I look forward to with both excitement and trepidation.

Whether it’s the wonderfully angry Chuchu and her legendary [redacted] in episode 4, or the unpredictable arc of what started out as the show’s biggest (teenage) jerk, or seeing the funny romantic rivalries Lilique unwittingly gets entangled in, the show makes you care about these kids.

It’s also, as a side note, the best treatment of fat people I’ve seen in anime. There are a ton of plus-sized people in different roles, and they’re never made fun of (except for one mild comment in a later episode that is quickly shut down, and the person apologizes). Lilique is a chubby girl who’s allowed to just be the cute romantic one of the group and is canonically popular with the boys. Considering how anime is usually the opposite of body-positive, it’s really nice to see.

The central relationship of the show is, of course, Suletta and Miorine. And it’s a really fun relationship to follow. Even with the Utena reference and casual acceptance of gay marriage, I was a little worried about being baited by the show. But I’m happy to say I’m really satisfied with the development of the relationship so far. Both Suletta and Miorine are layered characters, and it’s great to watch the girls’ feelings grow as they miscommunicate and struggle and learn more about each other. We watch what starts as an engagement of convenience grow into a real bond, and root for these girls every step of the way. And yes, they’re bringing the gay.

But the relationship, and the show, is not without its shocking twists, and the very last minute of the last episode of this show left me a puddle on the floor and begging for more.This show can grab your heart and rip it out and you’ll thank them for it.

All I’ll say is fans of fascinating, screwed up women will be happy. I’m certainly happy! For now, at least. I like this show a lot, so I hope it doesn’t screw up it’s second season. It’s built up a lot of trust for me, but I’ve had that trust betrayed before. Such is the curse of being an anime fan, and a fan in general.

But for now, I whole heartedly recommend it, and encourage everyone to check it out! It’s got all the good things and there’s a ton to speculate on. Come freak out and theorize over that post credits scene where [redacted] with me.

#gundam witch from mercury #gundam the witch from mercury #mobile suit gundam #gundam #mobile suit gundam the witch from mercury #revolutionary girl utena #anime overview #fall 2022 anime #my reviews #recs

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flamboyantly-incompetent · 3 months

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OoTP Epilogue

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: it's that scene where a professor threatens to literally torture a child

Masterlist

Word Count: ~680

Note: a little from Draco's perspective - the winds of change, they are a-blowing

Draco Malfoy was having an excellent day. Perhaps the best day in months. He'd just walked away from his Potions O.W.L., certain he'd get an O, and now he was answering a summons to the High Inquisitor's office on official Inquisitorial Squad business. Sure, Potter and his little friends had narrowly escaped a life sentence of detentions, but things were looking up.

But, just thinking about Potter now made him think of Y/N. How she'd pretended to be so sickeningly nice, pretended to care. Chosen her mudblood friends over him. It made his tongue sour.

No matter. Her silly little plan, whatever it was, hadn't worked. And he'd gotten a passable Herbology O.W.L. out of it.

Things were certainly looking up.

Draco arrived at Headmaster Umbridge's office just in time to watch her dragging none other than Harry Potter away from her fireplace. This day just kept getting better and better.

The scene unfolded beyond his wildest dreams: Millicent Bulstrode, a bit thick for his inner circle (Goyle was tolerated only at the behest of Draco's father), had already cornered Granger, and behind him the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad marched in with their own spoils. But Potter was uncooperative, and Snape had to be involved.

Draco smirked. Veritaserum would work quickly and Potter would spill his deep, precious, pathetic little secrets. And nobody brewed a better potion than Professor Snape.

But then, things took an interesting turn.

As it turned out, the High Inquisitor had already used Professor Snape's stock of the prized potion in a different, failed attempt to interrogate Potter. He offered to poison him instead, which earned a chuckle from every Slytherin in the office, but he was ultimately unable to assist.

Then, Headmaster Umbridge flushed angrily, her rage boiled over, and she shrieked, "You are on probation!" A stillness fell over the Slytherins. Their head of house, pinned against the Headmaster, they just weren't sure whose side they were supposed to take. Even Draco Malfoy hesitated. His father always spoke highly of Severus Snape, and his father's word was so often true.

Headmaster Umbridge began muttering to herself, chest heaving with rage. Draco leaned in to hear, "... justify the use... no choice..." Draco held his breath. "The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue."

Draco was mesmerized. He had never seen the curse do its work in person. He'd heard its effects over the summer, of course, echoing from the lower floors of his home where he had never been allowed to intrude. But his curiosity was finally about to be sated, and on Potter no less. Granger yowled and protested in the corner, ever too concerned with what was allowed over what was possible, but Draco barely heard her. Headmaster Umbridge raised her wand and -

- Draco pictured for a split second that it was Y/N instead of Potter at the end of the wand, and his stomach churned. He took a shaky step back. What was that? Crabbe looked at him, confused with a touch of annoyance.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a shrill voice chiming, "Malfoy. Malfoy."

"Huh?"

Headmaster Umbridge had Potter and Granger by the bicep, a greedy look on her reddened face. "You will remain here, to make sure the rest of them don't escape."

"A-all right," Draco replied. He had missed entirely where they were going and why. But he could follow orders.

And, this would give him a moment to gather himself. Why should he care whether it was Potter or Y/N? After all, she had tricked him by helping him - for practically nothing in return - which was suspicious! He just hadn't been able to put a finger on why. But, maybe this was why. To get into his head. To wriggle her way in, to make him care like she'd pretended to. That must be it, and to his absolute fury, it had clearly worked.

He'd smother the feeling, he had to.

Then, Weasley's annoying little sister ripped herself from Goyle's grasp, leveled her wand at Draco's shocked face, and unleashed a Bat-Bogey Hex that covered his face in flapping wings, and he was preoccupied with a more immediate problem.

~~~ Taglist ~~~

@jemomgershippingco

@ronslovergirl

@snickersmee

@lafrone

@cillshot

@reb0rned

#draco malfoy #draco x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter #draco x reader #slow burn #order of the phoenix

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throughtrialbyfire · 9 months

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this was going to be a scene in the main fic, but i'm cutting it to keep the pacing, so have some bonus content!

Cycle of the Serpent, chapter 12-13-ish

Word count: 875

Arcadia's Cauldron was a welcome sight for the alchemist. The city of Whiterun could boast much in the way of trade, he figured, but the sight of a sign painted with a gleaming blue mortar and pestle put a spring to his step. He'd been on the road for some time, not stopping in many places, no time to speak with others who shared his passion. This, then, was a welcome beacon. Emeros pressed a warm hand to the door, more confident than ever as it swung open, his head held high, earrings shimmering in the sun, cowl resting like a scarf around his neck. "I offer remedies for ailments both common and rare. Do let me know if I can be of service," Came the voice of the shopkeeper, a slightly older Imperial woman with a sun-lined face and well-worked hands. She wore her short, dark hair half-pinned back, and observed the Bosmer as he sauntered through the store. She had keen eyes that seemed to keep track of everything, from her experiments bubbling away on the alchemy station to the elf that browsed idly for a moment. Emeros gave a few glances to some of the ingredients stored in jars, from the sprigs of lavender that had been dried and cut tactfully, to the satchels of various herbs meant to be used for more expert experiments. He'd seen bundles like this before when traveling, a quick way to get a potion brewing in a pinch, should one need it. "Pardon me," Emeros lightly rested a finger atop a bottle of cool, red liquid, "is this a healing potion?"

"It's a cure-all," she smiled, stepping over from behind the counter and taking it gingerly in her hands, "I'm working on a new variety, this one's supposed to specifically target ailments from animals. Things like bone-break fever are no match for this little wonder," she explained as she turned the bottle in her palm, small burn scars long-faded catching the light, eyes returning to the Bosmer. "I hope it works on ataxia, but I haven't had a chance to test it well enough yet, it's quite a problem back home in Cyrodiil." "What would it cost for you to teach me how you made it?" Emeros questioned pleasantly, before adding, "I'm on the road quite often with some friends of mine, and we've had to deal with wolves more than anything else, it seems." It was half-true. It was the only danger they'd had so far, which, he figured, counted. Arcadia seemed to be thinking it over, stepping back to her counter and running her hand over it's surface. Emeros followed her, the gold pin that kept his cowl to his shoulders glinting in the sun. "Hmmmm," Arcadia hummed, "well, I can't give away my trade secrets now, can I?" She winked, a sense of pride in her voice. It was clear she'd spent quite some time developing the recipe, placing the bottle on the counter and sliding it slowly to him with one extended finger. "But, if you wanna buy some, I'd love to sell you a few of these. Maybe we can talk shop for a while?" Emeros grinned. It had been too long since he'd been able to discuss his work, his experiments. He slid his knapsack from his shoulder, tugging it open and retrieving a few vials and bottles that seemed to swirl with strange light, flakes and specks spinning about inside as he set them gingerly to the counter's surface. "I've been eager to find someone who might be able to help me with something, actually. I'm heading to Windhelm to speak with-" "Nurelion," Arcadia rubbed her brow, "gods, that High Elf can be…" Emeros pursed his mouth, watching as she rubbed at her forehead. "Is he not-" "Oh, no, his reputation's correct, he's famous for his work for a reason. He's a master alchemist, and I hate to say it, but he's earned the title." "Then what's the problem?" "He's a real piece of work," she rolled her eyes to accentuate the point, "I tried to be his apprentice for a while, thought he could teach me a thing or two. He did, but not without giving me a massive migraine with his ramblings." Emeros frowned, tugging one more vial from his knapsack before setting it to the side. "I'll keep that in mind." The pair stood, discussing their trade as Arcadia examined the vials and bottles, Emeros explaining the various methods and ingredients he'd used. Arcadia listened intently, and while she knew he wasn't telling her everything, she still gleaned quite a bit from his excited lecturing, the words falling from him now with a warmth to them, as though a passion he'd kept to himself bubbled over into his speech. By the time he finally left Arcadia's shop, the sun was in a different position, still high, and Emeros carried new ingredients bundled in his arms, ready to head back to the inn to test out some new ideas he'd gotten from their conversation. His earrings bounced and swayed as he made a light, breezy walk back to the Bannered Mare, his mind already racing with new possibilities.

#my writing #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim fic #ficblr #tes v #cycle of the serpent #oc ; emeros #bishop.txt #autism be damned my boy can work an alchemy station

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 30 days

Text

Decided to post the last two chapters of The Teenage Mutant Phantom of the Opera early! Enjoy!

Chapter 8.

@daboyau

Donnie throws himself into gaining information on days that he doesn’t have performances.

He has to sneak into the Hidden City library in order to do since he got banned for having too many overdue books, but nonetheless he still does so.

His main focus is the theatre itself.

When he told Usagi that he wouldn’t fill him in until he had proof it wasn’t really because he wanted to be sure, he just knew what he’d say.

Donnie has grown very fond of Usagi in the time they’ve spent together. Telling him his friend is probably a crazy, revenge seeking homeless orphan might make him upset.

The costume getting messed up clued Donnie in on the fact that the glaring he’s been feeling aimed at him is probably Leo’s doing.

He doesn’t leave the theatre because he lives there.

That’s the most likely explanation anyways.

He’s watching them and clearly getting jealous that Usagi is able to interact with Donnie a lot more than he is with him.

Despite how sure he is about it all, Donnie still wants tangible evidence before he gets to work in getting Leo going back home with him.

On one of the days off from performing, he looks into the previous owners of the theatre. It’s a short list, just the person who built it.

It was built 13 years ago after the original building exploded.

A laboratory.

He can hardly believe what he’s reading.

It all makes perfect sense.

His father must have escaped from the lab with them and accidentally left Leo behind to be found and raised by the creator of the theatre.

It brings about the question of why it’s owned now by a renting company instead of Leo’s guardian.

The answer, as he finds, is that she died five years ago.

He feels like such a terrible person for being excited that Leo wouldn’t be taken away from some other family.

It makes it a lot easier to be able to bring him home.

The next things he looks into is the blueprint of the building. There’s several inconsistencies on it, areas that have more room than they should if nothing is built in there.

There has to be secret pathways or rooms that Leo’s been using to hide in while there’s people around.

He just needs to find them and get a picture of proof that someone lives there and he can tell Usagi everything.

Then, after that, Usagi can help sway Leo to stop acting absolutely insane and see reason.

If that doesn’t work then a cattle prod and a mutant turtle sized bag will also do the trick.

He’ll need to search for the rooms during performance days to be safe. He’s already trying to get rid of him when there’s people around, finding his secrets all alone might cause him to disappear.

There’s no way he can let that happen, he can just imagine the way Mikey would draw his missing posters instead of using a real photo.

It’s as sad of a thought as it is frustrating to know he’d avoid using technology.

Donnie starts searching before every performance while using his days off to study what Leo has done to other people in the past as the phantom.

This allows him to avoid falling backdrops, cut through floorboards, broken sharp props, and another sandbag.

That one seemed lazy considering he used that already.

He can feel the anger brewing behind the scenes of each of these attacks but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest.

It’s definitely been getting to Usagi though.

Every near miss has been building up his fears and suspicion.

He approaches him after a performance where Donnie almost got taken out by a pillar that fell towards him.

“Donnie, this is getting way too out of hand. I’m worried that you’re going to get really hurt.”

“You should stop worrying. I’ve dodged everything so far and I’m close to being able to tell you what I’ve found out.” Donnie smiles at him proudly.

Usagi frowns and holds onto his own arm.

“I think I know it already.”

“You do?” Donnie raise an eyebrow.

Usagi sighs.

“Leo is the phantom. He’s getting revenge because he thinks we both messed up things for him on purpose. I didn’t want to believe it, but it’s way too much of a coincidence that you’re being targeted. I don’t know why he isn’t coming after me too, but there’s no other suspects.”

Donnie realizes Usagi isn’t aware of either of either of their feelings towards him. That makes him feel a little better since he thought he was just purposely avoiding addressing it.

“Regardless of if that is true or not, I’m still fine no matter what the phantom does. I only need a little longer anyways to get my evidence.”

“No, I can’t let it go on like this. It’s not right. If he is doing this then he has to come back here sometime and when he does I’m going to tell him that if he doesn’t stop, we can’t be-“

Donnie quickly covers his mouth with his hand and leans in.

“Not here. Let’s go to Run of the Mill.”

Usagi stares at him in surprise until Donnie pulls himself away in embarrassment.

“I am…..never doing that again, but what I said still stands.”

Usagi is completely confused but leaves with Donnie anyways.

From up above, Leo is filled with a severe case of the Caine instinct.

At the restaurant, Usagi and Donnie sit across from each other while waiting for their pizzas.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to avoid saying anything bad about Leo or even considering leaving him alone while we’re at the theatre.”

“You think he was listening in?“

“I have no doubt at this point.”

Usagi crosses his arms over his chest.

“I can’t believe how wrong I was about him.”

“Look, if I’m not taking the murder attempts personally you shouldn’t either.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Because as attempts on my life go his have been pretty tame.”

Usagi moves his arms, placing his elbows on the table and putting his hands over his mouth and nose almost like he’s praying.

“I’m stuck between asking why there have been ones before this out of politeness while also knowing how close both that barista and I were to it.”

Donnie’s face heats up slightly.

Cute but mean, how his heart betrays him.

“I’m going to just cut to the chase. You will mess up my plan to take my brother home if he thinks you hate him.”

Usagi moves his hands away and looks down in guilt.

“I don’t hate him. I just hate what he’s doing.”

“Frankly if I was alone for 5 years I probably would have done the same thing.”

Usagi’s eyes snap back up.

“Excuse me?”

Donnie’s eyes dart away.

“Did you ever notice that Hueso is a skeleton named bone?”

“Donnie!”

Donnie sighs and looks back at him.

“Okay okay, I’ll fill you in just a little. I’m still finding evidence to prove things, but here’s my speculation.“ He explains what he learned days ago.

Usagi messes with his hands awkwardly.

“I knew he lost someone, but I never thought…..if you’re right, then he needs help. He has to leave the theatre for that time happen.”

Donnie smirks.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been intending to make him do, as you you shouldn’t know by now. I believe I’m close.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Once I find his room, Leo will no doubt come after me. He’ll be so angry that he’ll show himself again. I need him to be even angrier so he shows himself to everyone though.”

“Why?”

“It’ll back him into enough of a corner where the theatre isn’t safe anymore. He’ll be at the maximum amount of anger which will make him make mistakes. It’ll be the perfect time to strike.”

“Where do I come in with that plan?”

Donnie whispers his idea to him, making Usagi’s eyes widen.

“If….if that’s what I have to do to make sure you’re both okay, I will.”

Donnie smiles.

“I have high confidence it’ll work.”

Hueso places their pizzas on the table.

“Ugh, I still can’t believe you like pineapple pizza.” Donnie looks at Usagi’s order in disgust.

“I know you have pineapple scented chapstick!”

“There’s a huge difference between smell and texture.”

Usagi glances down at the squirming toppings on Donnie’s pizza.

“Right….”

They eat and talk together, then say goodbye when they leave the restaurant afterwards.

The day after next, Donnie presses his hands against the wall that the blueprint says should hold nothing.

Another day of performance is another opportunity.

He’s hoping to find some kind of crack or opening to get a grip on.

It’s possible that Leo never uses the actual latch to get in and just relies on his portals so it might be even less obvious.

“Come on…..what’s that thing Mikey says when he really wants something? Oh universe, if this is meant to be, please let me find how to open this door.”

Mikey always mentioned saying it out loud speaks it into existence and the meant to be part makes him feel better if it doesn’t happen.

Donnie remembers how often he’d be in the shrine room saying that phrase about finding their brother.

Ironic that it was Mikey’s doing that led him here.

As illogical as it might be that is also why he’s trying this method. If it worked witch something as unlikely as this then maybe-

His hand finally catches on something.

One point for the universe.

He slides the wall open to a pitch black room.

Creepy.

He pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight before going inside.

It’s clear that he finally found the main room Leo has been using.

There’s plenty of furniture, a filled trash can, plenty of sheet music, and tons of play pages.

His light then shines on a wall and he freezes.

An entire wall of rabbit pictures that were drawn on to make them look like Usagi.

The situation is more critical than he previously thought.

Would he hurt Usagi?

He needs to get back before something happens.

First though, he rips off some of the rabbit photos and leaves the door open before rushing off back to Usagi.

“Did you find anything?” Usagi asks as he sees him.

“I definitely found…..something. He is for sure living here.”

“Then we do what we talked about.”

Donnie clicks his tongue.

“Agree, but….”

“But what?”

“I think you deserve to know, but before I show you, you have to promise to stay calm.”

“I promise.”

Donnie hesitantly hands over one of the pictures

Usagi takes it and his ears droop in a mix of fear and shock.

“N-Now I see why you said that.”

“I know this is messed up, but he’s not in a right state of mind.”

Usagi stares at the picture more before folding it up and leaving it on a nearby table.

“This…..just proves he needs help…..I’m going to need some time away from him when this is over though.”

“I don’t blame you. I’ll take care of him in the meanwhile.” Donnie insists.

Usagi takes a breath.

“Thank you. For everything. I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here. I really appreciate you, Donnie.”

Donnie’s heart beats fast, especially knowing what they’re about to do.

“I promise that nothing is going to happen to you as long as I’m around.”

Usagi smiles and holds out his hand.

“Does that means you’re ready?”

Donnie quickly wipes his palm on his pant leg and then takes his hand.

“Absolutely.”

They can both feel some sense of being watched with intent as they make their way together.

The opera goes on as normal until a scene that normally just ends with them holding each other takes a turn.

Audience members gasp as they see them kiss.

It takes another turn.

Leo drops down besides them and tackles Donnie to the ground.

“I’m going to make you wish you were never mutated.”

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise fanfiction #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior #tw obsession #tw obsessive thoughts #tw gaslighting #tw emotional manipulation #tw manipulation #tw stalking #leoichi #donsagi #the teenage mutant phantom of the opera

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