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lionlena · 10 months

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Dancing With Your Ghost (JavierPeñaxghost!reader) Part IV

Summary: You are a ghost (sort of) and you don’t remember what happened to you. You only know your name and you feel that something bad has happened to you. The only person who sees you and hears you is Javier, so you don’t leave him because you believe he’ll help you. That he will solve the mystery of what happened to you.

Warnigs: the reader is a ghost, mentions of death, angst, later chapters will also include descriptions of severe wounds, blood… And also sadness, anxiety, little smut but later

A/N: Title inspired by this song

Part IV

Javi watched you walk around the office and couldn't help but smile slightly. You acted like a child and he wondered again how old you might be. You looked like 24, maybe 26, but he knew you might as well have been 22 or 28. You couldn't give him an answer to that question. Right now, you were acting like a six-year-old in a candy store.

And of course, Chris got one blank message on a pager. Javi just rolled his eyes and shook his head as you looked at him. In return, you gave him one of your sweetest smiles and shrugged.

After all, what's the point of being a ghost if you can't make a little mischief?

After a while, even gathering office gossip got boring and you went back to Javier's office. He didn't notice you approaching him. As a ghost you moved silently, so he couldn't hear you. He was going through a folder with pictures of dead women. You held your breath and squealed. Just then he realize you were there and quickly closed the briefcase muttering, "Sorry."

You shook your head and quietly asked: "These are pictures... Are you looking for..."

Javier looked at you sadly: "Your body is not here."

You nodded your head and bit your lip. "Do you watch a lot of this?"

"What should I answer you? Too much, for..."

Javier stopped as he saw Daniel coming towards him.

"Boss, we have something. We think we know where Miguel's son is. It can get rough."

Javier stood up abruptly and nodded his head: "Go, I'll catch up with you in a moment."

He grabbed the receiver of the phone and looked at you with worried eyes.

"Please Y/N, stay here. I can't during the action..."

Before he finished his sentence, you nodded, "I know. Just be careful."

"I will," he replied and took his gun from the desk.

Before leaving his office, he paused in the doorway for a moment and looked at you. You gave him a soft smile and then he continued walking.

In fact, you really wanted to go with him, but you had already realized that his job was sometimes very dangerous. You also knew you were distracting him, even when you didn't say anything. Javier even told you that once: "I can't help but think what will happen if a bullet goes through you. Yes, I know, nothing should happen to you, but... What if it's like silver bullets and werewolves." You rolled your eyes and he gave you an annoyed look. "Well, if you exist, then maybe werewolves too."

It made you laugh a bit, but... You didn't want to see what would happen if you actually got in the crossfire. The truth was that neither of you had any idea how this whole, "ghosted" thing worked.

For example, you noticed that it was hard for you to walk through thick walls, so most of the time you chose the door but you didn't know why wall thickness was a problem.

You sighed heavily and sat down in his chair. You were worried about him, but there was nothing you could do. It wasn't just that Javi was the only person you could talk to. Just like that... You liked him.

You spent the next hours wandering around the increasingly empty floor. You watched people gather their things and go home. And all you thought was that you didn't have a home. Maybe in the past, if someone asked you if you wanted to be a ghost, you'd say, "Yeah, sure, that must be fucking awesome."

Well, it wasn't.

There was nothing cool about watching other people can live, while you couldn't even pick a stupid pen off the floor.

There was nothing awesome about not being able to talk to anyone but one person. Yes, Javi was your only ray of sunshine, even when he was grumpy. But that wasn't that nice either. You were addicted to one person. And you knew he was tired of you sometimes.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Javier approaching.

"Tough day?" he asked in a tired voice.

You lifted your head up and smiled. You looked at him carefully, looking for any signs of injury, and breathed a sigh of relief when you not seeing anything.

"Did you catch him?" you asked, but his heavy sigh was the answer.

Javier poured himself a whiskey and sat down on the couch. He was no longer wearing a tie, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and the sleeves rolled up. He was tired, but you thought he looked hot anyway.

"The motherfucker tricked us," he hissed.

You bit your lip not knowing how to react. How were you supposed to help him? If you could, you would sit next to him. Maybe you could start massaging his tense shoulders. If only he would let you kiss his jaw, climb into his lap and undo his pants...

You shook your head. God, where did you keep having these thoughts?

"Stechner's computer burned down," you blurted out suddenly.

"What?" Javier snapped his head up, clearly intrigued.

"Maybe... I was exaggerating a bit. I just wanted to tease him, but suddenly something clicked and the computer started smoking."

Javier tipped his head back and started laughing.

"It's good to know I wasn't the only one having a fucked up day."

You smiled as you watched Javier's mood improve. Maybe he shouldn't be so happy about Bill's bad luck, but... You knew Stechner was an asshole.

Javier finally got up and said, "Let's go home."

You suddenly felt happier. Even if he didn't mean you were going back to "yours" home, you felt better.

(A month later)

It's funny how things can go wrong so quickly. After failing to catch David, Javier grew more nervous and frustrated every day. You've seen how sometimes it's hard for him to keep from growling at you. You heard him mention someone names Cristina a few times, but when you asked about her, he brushed you off in half sentences. Sometimes you deliberately left the apartment before he came back so he could calm down.

You were disappointed and sad. You understood that he was tired, but you had the feeling that he had completely abandoned your case. You tried to be patient, but it didn't always work.

When you showed up at home after midnight, you were surprised to find that Javier wasn't there. You ignored it at first. You figured he'd gone to the prostitutes and would come by in the morning for fresh clothes.

But he wasn't there in the morning or in the afternoon. You started to panic. You turned on the TV on the news program, anxiously awaiting some news.

Killing a DEA agent would have been publicized for sure, but they didn't say anything on the news either.

Late in the evening, you were already so restless that you decided to go to the embassy. You knew the way and figured you might hear something there.

But just as you were about to leave, Javier entered the apartment.

You immediately ran over to him.

"Where were you? I was worried about you. I was afraid that..."

"Are you playing wife again?!" he growled. "What was I supposed to do? Call? From what I remember, you don't have the ability to pick up the phone."

You shook your head and took a step back. You didn't understand why he was like this again. You tried to lighten the situation somehow.

"I'm sorry... Is it weird that I was worried about you?"

Javier put his hands on his sides and took deep breaths. He wanted to calm down, but Cristina's words hit him again and again: "You think you're a hero", "you are a piece of shit ."

She was right, but why didn't you see it? Why didn't you understand that you'd be better off without him?

"You were worried about who would solve your case if I died."

His words were like a blow.

"Why are you saying that? You know it's not true. I like you."

He threw his hands up in the air and looked at you angrily.

"And that's the problem! Can't you see that?! You've been with me for two months and... Nothing! Stop believing I'll help you. Stop believing I'm a good person because the truth is I'm a bastard. I save people when it suits me. I allow people to be killed when I see no other way. You don't know anything about me!" He took a deep breath and calmly said, "I'm really sorry, but I can't help you, it's too hard."

You felt like you were about to cry, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction. You took a step towards him and growled.

"Have you thought for a moment how hard it is for me?! I'm dead Javier! I will never dance with anyone again, never eat ice cream, never hug anyone, never kiss anyone... Not only you and your work are the most important in this world, you know?"

Javier clenched his jaw and rubbed his hand restlessly across his neck. Why did you have to remind him of what hurt him the most? Yes, he couldn't hug you. He couldn't kiss you. This frustrated him so much and he lost control of his anger.

"Yeah, you're dead! You can wait another week or two... You can wait fucking years, but living people whose lives depend on me can't wait! Yes, it's sad that you're dead, but you can still do something. Why don't you just get on a plane and see the world?! You can be free. You can enjoy..."

"Life!" you growled. You would hit him if you could. "You don't know what it's like to be a ghost! You don't know what it's like to feel that kind of pain!" He looked at you surprised. "Yes Javier, I feel pain, constantly... Pressure, right here." You touched your chest. "You don't know if I have time. You think so, but two months ago you didn't even believe in me, and now you're a ghost specialist! What if we have limited time to get to the other side? What if I'm going to hell tomorrow? Forgive me that I bothered you, but you were my only chance."

Javier took a step towards you, stretched out his hand, and tried to say something, but you turned around and ran outside. You knew he wouldn't follow you. He wouldn't have had a chance to catch you, but you didn't stop running.

You decided to go to the airport and fly to the farthest place you could find. Maybe Javier was right.

He wasn't who you thought he was, and maybe...

Maybe there was someone else in the world who could help you

Javier stood paralyzed. What was he thinking? He just let the worst-case scenario come true. You disappeared and he might never see you again. He'll never tell you that you were probably the best thing that ever happened to him. Even if he hated not being able to touch you. Or maybe that's why he talked to you in a way he didn't talk to anyone else woman.

"Fuck!" he screamed and slammed his hand against the wall.

Why did this blonde, snorting cocaine whenever she had the chance, have to mess with his mind? Okay, he wasn't a good man, but he risked his life for her, not only because he needed her husband's testimony. He felt sorry for her, worried about her... But he was much more worried about you. It didn't matter that you were a ghost. Something bad could still happen to you.

"Fuck it!" he shouted and grabbed his car keys.

He had no idea where he was going, but it didn't matter. He was just going to drive around looking for you. He couldn't lose you. Not yet.

You took an empty seat on the plane, by the window and watched as you were moving away from the ground. You sighed heavily as you felt a familiar tingle. It wasn't your first time trying to leave this cursed city.

You closed your eyes and when you opened them you were back on a familiar street.

Javier's heart skipped when he finally found you. You were sitting on the curb, on the street where he first saw you. He parked the car and cautiously walked towards you. There was no one around, so he didn't have to worry about what others would think when they saw him talking to the void.

"Hey, I had a feeling I'd find you here. I don't know why, but I thought you might be here."

You pulled your legs closer to you, wrapping your arms around them. Javier stood right above you, but you didn't even look at him. "I'm sorry for what I said." Again, no response. He sighed and sat down next to you. "So what, now you can't see me? It's pretty funny." If only he could nudge you lightly with his elbow to make you laugh a little. "I have to admit, it's really annoying when someone pretends not to see or hear you."

Still not looking at him, you mumbled, "I've tried to get out of here before while you were gone. I got on a plane, but as soon as the machine takes off into the sky, suddenly I'm here. It's the same if I get in a truck when I cross city borders... I land here. Today I tried again and... I've been sitting here for two hours."

Javier looked at you and sighed, "Sorry, I didn't know."

You shrugged. "But it doesn't matter anyway. I've been thinking about it and... What if I traveled the world? Who would I tell about it?" You finally looked at him and saw the sadness in his eyes. "I don't have anyone, Javi. It's just me and this fucking city. If I could at least see other ghosts, but apparently there's something wrong with me. So I'm sorry for stalking you, but..." You swallowed and mumbled, "I only have you."

Javier nodded, and... God, if he could hug you. He would pull you close to him and hold you until all your sadness was gone. But the only way he could comfort you was with words, and that had never been his strong suit.

"Maybe I'm not a ghost specialist, but... I know people and I can tell you that you didn't deserve all of this. You didn't deserve the words I said. And..." You noticed, that he was nervous. "Sometimes I think I only have you." You raised your eyebrows. "Yes, I know how it sounds, but... I don't talk to anyone like I talk with you. No one sees what you see." You nodded. "Sometimes I'm afraid you'll leave and I won't get a chance to say goodbye one last time."

You opened your mouth to say something but realized you didn't know what to say. You couldn't promise him anything. No matter how much you wanted to, you were no longer in control of your existence.

Javier must have noticed your embarrassment because he quickly got up and started walking towards the car. "Come on," he said but did not get into the car. He opened the driver's side door, turned on the radio, and found a slow Spanish song.

You were really surprised by his behavior. "What are you doing?"

"I will dance with you."

You laughed and looked at him skeptically. "Have you forgotten that you can't touch me?"

"Just stay close to me. Come on."

You looked around. "Seriously, do you want to do it here?" He just shrugged his arms. "All right."

You stood as close to him as you could, and he raised his hands as if he were holding you by the waist. His fingers dug into your incorporeal body a little, but you didn't mind. You felt a slight flow of energy from his body and smiled.

"Alright, I'll tell you what to do." You nodded. "A step back."

You did as he instructed and he took a step forward. "Now step left, step right." He followed your movements as if in a mirror image. "A step forward. And again, a step back..."

You giggled and shook your head. "You must look like a lunatic now."

"I'm just dancing with your ghost."

You smiled and continued dancing.

A/N: Sorry, Javier lost his temper, again. And in case you haven't noticed, I don't like Cristina. I think she was stupid and selfish and... Didn't Javi really notice that she was on drugs? :P If someone doesn't know her, here she is: Cristina Jurado

Please don't pay too much attention to the timeline in season three, because I've messed it up quite a bit already.

Part III

Part V

Taglist: @aestheticangel612 @kittenlittle24 @creedslove @ranahx @hxpburn76

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena and you #narcos season 3 #angst #hurt/comfort #but also humor #ghost!reader

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pretty-toru · 2 years

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i’ve seen your fic about reader giving gojo the silent treatment and i loved it! 😭 what about making one if it was the other way around? ive seen many fics where its yn giving the silent treatment but what if you did something that made gojo mad and he’s the one who’s giving the silent treatment? tbh i’d be so sad if he was mad at me! 😭

midnight blues┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: angst, fluff ending

୧ wc: 1,700+

୧ synopsis: you never expected to receive the silent treatment from gojo, and it's one of the worst heartaches you can ever experience.

a/n: thank you so much! it really surprised me how many people ended up liking that one, and I hope you'll enjoy this one too! omg I would literally sob if I made gojo mad and will never be able to move on from the experience

Several hours have passed since Gojo departed from your home in a huff, and you wished that you had realized he was already in a sour mood dealing with the higher-ups regarding Yuuji's execution and general happenings in the Jujutsu society. He was coming home from one of those days where everything was hectic, irritable, and stressful and he wants nothing more than to return back to a serene space where he doesn't have to think about anything. At least, for a little while.

You never liked the term nagging, but after moving in together for months now you often have to remind him to be more respectful toward your shared home. "Hey honey, do you mind taking off your shoes so you don't track in even more dirt?" He had a tendency to walk around your home in his outdoor shoes and even sometimes wearing them on the bed to leave crumbs and debris all over the comforter. It's not always pleasant having to be conscious wondering if he left anything behind the next time you slip between the sheets or walk around barefoot, and it's one of his bad habits that you've been trying to fix.

Gojo's lanky body that's already plopped on the couch loosens his shoes with his feet and it drops to the floor with a soft thud. Your brows furrow in discontentment and your coarse tone makes his face twitch, and even though he's not able to see your body language with his arm thrown over his eyes he can sense that you're crossing your arms at him. "Seriously, Satoru? You know that wasn't what I meant."

His teeth clench and grit together in silent annoyance, and his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose together before his hands gesture loudly in the air as you're going on your spiel about shoe etiquette. "Fuck Y/N- can I have one minute of quiet in my own home and not have you nagging my ear off." He sighs exasperatedly, the patience he had was already running thin and he didn't have the energy to deal with your complaints either.

"W-what? I just told you to pick up after yourself, why are you getting irrationally angry at me?" You bite the inside of your cheek because he never cursed at you before, even if he didn't truly mean his words you're unable to dismiss it and a stinging pain spreads across your chest. It feels like hard lumps of ice are being formed in your throat and you hate everything about this because you weren't trying to argue with him.

"Now you're just being so fucking annoying... I'd ask you to piss off but you can't even leave the room fast enough." He straightens himself from the couch and bends over to grab the shoes that you're so bothered by and heads for the front door. He doesn't even spare you a glance because the last thing he needed was for someone to criticize him over something so insignificant when he has more important things to worry about. You couldn't even sputter out another remark before he abruptly tells you, "I'm heading out. Don't wait up for me."

After he slams the door shut and leaves you alone in the deafening silence, you couldn't even properly process what just happened 一 was that really the Gojo Satoru you knew and loved? You never imagined him saying something like that in all the years you've known him. You wished you could've taken back your words instead of opening your stupid mouth about your dumb, little pet peeves when you should've noticed that your boyfriend was coping with the presumably dreadful day he's had.

The bitter and cruel world was always fighting against him one way or another and you feel terrible that you weren't there to support him. You should've quietly taken his shoes off and kissed his forehead to remind him that you're there for him, and you were a little too late to know that now. Even you sometimes forget that the great Gojo Satoru can have his bad days too, and one seemingly small and tiny inconvenience atop of everything else can cause him to lose his cool as a result.

Gojo arrives back home just after the stroke of midnight and pushes past through the threshold expecting to be greeted with darkness, but there's a light in the kitchen as you're adding the finishing touches of the icing on the strawberry lunchbox cake to make it up to him. It's minimalistic and single-serving friendly enough that you wouldn't have to worry about having too much leftover dessert while satisfying your favorite shaman's sweet tooth. But most importantly, you hope that he'll accept it as a heartfelt form of apology.

You're unaware of how long he's been standing there watching you earnestly until you glance up and meet his visage. The corners of your mouth quirk upward into a smile that seems a little forced, yet honest in the way that you're relieved to see that he returned home. "W-welcome home, Satoru. I should've asked how your day was before I bugged you about something so silly. You might've had quite a long day or maybe something happened so I wanted to surprise you by baking your favorite cake. It's not much, but it's the least I could do."

The silence weighs heavily in the air. You're growing anxious each passing second he doesn't respond and your stomach starts to churn while your palms sweat under his gaze. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears and then comes the snapping of the strings as he takes one step away and another going towards your shared bedroom. You never felt so crestfallen and defeated as you're standing there rigid with his broad back facing toward you.

"Ohh.. Okay I'll just, um, save this for you tomorrow."

Not a moment later and you can hear the shower running, and you can't help but think to yourself... what if he hates you now? You attempt to choke back the tears welling up and failing miserably as a droplet cascades down your cheek. The feeling of your ribcage caving into itself while your heart sinks slowly doesn't completely go away as you try to convince yourself that it's just another rough patch in your relationship and you'll both eventually move past this.

Nearly an hour goes by until you're finished cleaning up, and you spent most of that time trying to understand what's going through Gojo's mind and if you should reside on the couch for tonight so you wouldn't upset him further. You're more than positive that he's fast asleep on his side of the mattress as you retrieve a spare pillow and blanket from the linen closet to prepare your make-shift bed on the couch. You considered peering inside and checking up on your boyfriend, but you didn't want to risk waking him had the hinges on the door squeaked unfavorably.

Time seems to move slower once you're comfortably situated flat on your back and staring at the ceiling because you seem to be having troubled sleep. You've been tossing and turning for every time you check your phone for no particular reason, and you've never been much of an insomniac either. For some reason, it feels almost wrong that Gojo and you are sleeping in separate rooms when he's not somewhere overseas for an assigned exorcism of special grade curses.

Your drowsy eyes kept fluttering open and closed for some time now, and you were just barely able to catch an ounce of sleep before you feel a weight dip beside you and strong, familiar arms wrap around your middle. Gojo carefully closes the gap between you and him without causing too much movement and he appreciates your taste in furniture as you chose a couch that's spacious enough to fit the both of you. "Hmm, Satoru? What are you- I thought you wanted to be alone?" You whisper softly after registering his warm touch on your skin, and you shift your position so that you're now facing him.

His cerulean hues bore into you before he gently shakes his head, and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck inhaling your peach blossom scent. "I never heard you come in." He confesses, busying himself as his fingertips fiddle with your top and then drawing small circles on your hip after slipping his hand just a shy underneath it. "Did I mess things up between us? I shouldn't have taken it out on you back there... it's those old fuckers that got to me. Forgive me, angel? I promise I'll be better next time, so please? I don't wanna lose you... You're everything to me. I love you so much, you have no idea."

"Will you look at me, baby? You won't lose me over something like this." Your fingers thread through his silver tendrils and Gojo does as he's told. Baby, he already feels warm just from that term of endearment alone. Staring into the blues of his eyes felt like warm healing rain falling down onto your heart, and you can tell it has the same effect on him as he's sharing your fond gaze. All that constant overthinking and worrying dissipates once the misunderstandings have been resolved and you feel the weight of a thousand bricks on your chest being lifted.

"There's honestly nothing to be sorry about, I can understand why you reacted that way. You're human and can only take so much so don't be too hard on yourself." You tenderly cup his cheek and he eases into the warmth of your palm, a thumb sweeps across his cheekbone and he breathes a content sigh. "I didn't notice sooner that you weren't being yourself and I should've been there for you when you needed me, so I am sorry for that. I love you so much too, I'm willing to put this behind us if you are."

"Yeah, sounds good." He murmurs as his eyelids begin to grow heavy, a soft simper making its way to his face and he presses a gentle kiss against your lips. You speculate that he wasn't able to fall asleep this entire time either without holding each other like this with legs touching or intertwined, and you're reminded of how good you two have it with the unconditional and boundless love reserved for one another at the end of each day. "As they usually say, let bygones be bygones."

#some bonus crumbs : gojo drools over the cake you made specially for him in his dream and it's what he has for breakfast 🤍#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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brucespringsteen · 11 months

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Hi, do you have any beginner tips for lifting/getting into the gym? I no longer want to be a scrawny waifish butch and instead wanna be able to pick up my gf and look like mid 80s Bruce… If you’re comfortable talking about it I’d love to hear if you have any tips… I’ve been researching and have learned that diet is a huge part in building muscle but as far as the gym goes I’m lost… I’m honestly mostly just nervous because I have no clue where to start and don’t want some dude to help me (nothing wrong honest help I’m just shy and get embarrassed)… Thank you!!!

hi king 🤝🏻

im so happy 2 talk about this cos im in my musclebound era again

disclaimer what i know is a mix of what i learned from my dad and reddit threads LOL and my own trial and error. weightlifting really is the gayass journey of all time 💪🏼😋

first gonna keep it real with u ive lost a lot of muscle mass from stupid life events n being sad lol but im actually getting back into a routine for the first time in over a year. so i haven't properly lifted anything heavier than the 15lbs dumbells i got at home 😂 when i was once able to press more than my weight ✊🏼😔 BUT form is so much more important than lifting heavy. u will get better results lifting at a weight that you can control and build up lifting heavier over time 👍🏼 which i can go more in depth about how to do that. good form is so sexy and makes u feel and look so badass

u might find more eloquent lifters out there who talk about the mind and muscle connection and visualization. it's really cool stuff that connects practicing mindfulness as u workout which is what makes weightlifting so meditative to me. this will also help u maintain good form and i think nourishes a healthy mindset toward working out/yourself in general

n you are definitely right about diet playing a huge part. don't worry about bulking/cutting when ur first starting out, most important thing is making sure you're getting enough protein. if u are iron deficient i would look into taking a supplement! dont know all the science but iron keeps ur oxygen flowing better, so your stamina can be down if ur iron count is low. my mindset about diet is the simpler the better and u should never be miserable lol. i will never give up beer & pizza & a good time 🫡

second most important thing is sleep. make sure u get enough.

1. back/shoulders and biceps

going to the gym can be a little scary, but that's where having a routine helps so much 🧑‍💻doing one of those dynamic workout routines u find on an instagram reel every now and then can be fun and i recommend it. BUT doing a random workout Everytime u workout will make it difficult to see results. doing the same workouts is how u can see ur progression better and focus on good form. im talking about learning the basics of benching, squatting, and deadlifting. 😜✌🏼

if u can, i would aim a routine of 3-4 times a week. I kept it like this:

2. leg day and abs

3. chest and triceps

what helped in staying consistent w going to the gym was having a set time where i would go. ritualistic

4th extra day: fun cardio like interval training or boxing. OR if i was feeling like i just needed a chill day a slow incline walk on treadmill/outside😊 then do some really intense stretching/foam rolling

here is an example of a chest/tris day

The 3 "T's" stand for tiers starting with the most difficult exercises, so I could use most of the energy I have on it.

To elaborate further on how to see progress: say this week you're able to bench press 60lbs. Next week you try 70lbs on your last rep and it's kinda hard. The third week, you bench 60lbs again, and it feels a little easier now. The fourth week, you're benching 70lbs on your last two sets. By the fifth week, you find you're able to do your entire workout with 70! Etc repeat etc

when i first started i kept one of those tiny composition books w different workouts and id also keep track of how much i was lifting when i reached a new pr/mile time/etc. u can also just keep this in ur notes app. but i found having the paper in front of me was more efficient than continuously looking at my phone and fighting the urge to check apps in between sets lol. also if i was getting texts id have No Idea which just helped me reinforce the gym was Me Time

before u buy into a gym membership tho, take advantage if they have a free trial. u can find what time is least busy/if the vibe fits for u.

another tip. put a photo 1985 bruce on ur wall trust me this will help.

I can go more indepth about specific workouts or if u got other questions, lmk!

U got this!

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booksdaydream · 1 year

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The Lost and Found part IV

*SPOILERS OF THE GAME HOGWARTS LEGACY AHEAD*

Characters: Dark!Sebastian; use of MC; GN!MC; Ominis Gaunt; eventual Ominis Gaunt x MC.

Summary: Based on this post by @avadakedavravravra. After Sebastian substituted Ominis with a Polyjuice potion, he seduces MC to force Ominis into disclosing Anne’s location. And to also have a little bit of fun.

Warnings: mild violence; mild abuse (imprisonment); talks about death; sad mainly for Ominis, fluffy for an unsuspecting MC; angst overall; impersonating; lying; gaslighting; non-con relationship; kissing; snogging; lightly groping; a bit smutty; self-hatred; talks about not being enough.

Word count: 6K+ (got little carried away)

A/N: Really hard to know how far Sebastian should go. I have a feeling he’d go much further had he been pushed far enough, but then that’d be heart-breaking even for me. I imagine he’s mostly lost, instead of genuinely evil, so I give him some leeway to act out. Like a spoiling mother, I suppose. Kinda wish he had the opportunity of acting like himself, he’d treasure MC like no one, but oh well too late for apologies in his case. Also, last bit of fluff. It’s just sad after this one. So enjoy! Comments appreciated :) (Once again, "Ominis" in bold is Sebastian's Ominis).

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This chapter on AO3

The Lost and Found

Part I

Part II

Part III

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“Have you got in contact with Anne yet?” The confident voice of MC asked from the other side of the Undercroft, echoing through the room and Sebastian’s mind. No, of course he didn’t get in contact with Anne. He had no idea where she was. For a moment he considered rampaging through Feldcroft until he found her hiding place, but his anger changed directions when MC continued in a now anxious tone “Do you think Sebastian found her already?” Did they actually think he’d cause her any harm? He held back the desire to roll his eyes, instead taking the opportunity to reach out and hold their hand.

They were sitting in the Undercroft on a hastily conjured Persian rug and some pillows scattered around. Sebastian was working on a potions homework while MC read a book on herbology. They sat very close, something he had gotten used to fairly quickly. And he quite enjoyed. MC held his hand back, interlocking their fingers together. They sighed satisfied and Sebastian held back a not-very-Omininly smirk.

“I doubt Sebastian would go see Anne without a cure in hands, that would be unwise of him. And only a couple of weeks have passed since he left, not enough time for a man on the run to have furthered his research sufficiently.” He brushed off MC’s anxious thought, with a slight frown on his semblance.

Sebastian failed to notice a brow rise on MC’s face. Surely, his lack of cure wouldn’t stop him on visiting his sister. Even if in secret, without actually interacting with her. They thought but did not say anything. Sometimes they had the feeling Ominis knew too much of Sebastian yet pretended to not know enough. A feeling that only appeared after his time in captivity. Although MC did not want to doubt Ominis, they couldn’t shake the feeling that if they had doubted everything a bit more before, they would’ve been able to realize Ominis was being held captive by Sebastian much earlier.

Sebastian squeezed their hand bringing them back into the present and MC felt their face heat up upon noticing his face had turned towards them, rather near their own. They had been much closer than before, but Ominis was very proper. Perhaps a real gentleman. Stealing touches in private, such as this, but maintaining a very friend-like stance in their daily routine. MC couldn't, however, stop wishing more. They had confessed and Ominis had accepted their feelings, but nothing more was spoken about their relationship. Had it evolved? Was what they shared more than friendliness? Could they expect more kisses?

Although Sebastian could tell MC’s eagerness, in the way they would lean towards him when walking the corridors, hands almost touching, or when they would give him anything deliberately allowing their fingers to touch for a moment longer, he couldn’t bring himself to push his manipulation further. No, not manipulation, guidance. Ominis’ words from their last meaningful interaction still haunted him. And he was having a hard time trying to figure out why. He always knew, from that duel at DADA, that he found MC interesting. He even got into trouble with Madam Scribner that one time because he had a crush on them. But wasn’t that it? A crush? He knew he cared for them as a bestfriend, just as much as he cared for Ominis, maybe as much as Anne. But, seducing them was the line he was unwilling to cross?

After the many boundaries he had disregarded, that one was out of question? Or perhaps was he delaying doing so for a more important moment? If that was the case, he had to start working towards it soon because Ominis was peculiar compared to him. He was patient, caring and strived for a slow burn. Sebastian, however, knew he was himself very different. He was passionate and eager; he couldn’t care less about taking things slow. And if he could actually have MC all to himself, he wondered if he’d get lost in them. How much he’d adore them if only they’d allow him. He knew, anyway, that whatever form he decided to move forward with this, he’d likely hurt MC forever. One vile act of unwillingly taking them and betraying their trust.

He wondered if having them in love with him would make it for an easy way to cure Anne. How worth the hurt it could be. His mind quickly remembered that day in the pensive, watching the memories of another ancient magic user, Isidora. One who’s portrait was broken and who’s fate MC’s beloved keepers decided. Her power taking away her father’s pain and the potential it had to take away Anne’s curse. Perhaps MC could be the answer he was avoiding all this time. An answer hidden by his search of the dark arts and his foolish crush. His desire to protect them. Sebastian realized he didn’t have to do so anymore. They had betrayed him as well. Just as he stopped caring for Ominis, he could stop caring for MC. At least enough to cross that line. A necessary evil on his quest to find a cure for his sister. For Anne. They only had him left while MC had Ominis and the many friends they did during this year. They would survive the hurt.

Sebastian squeezed MC’s hand again, gaining their attention and smiled. “Actually, there is something else I needed to talk to you about…”, MC nodded and hummed in agreement, listening attentively as Ominisfrowned still up close. “I have thought about what we shared that day here and… In reality, I am concerned.”, MC stared at him confused. Sebastian knew this was a risk, but no one knew Ominis better than him and this is roughly how he would go about this. “My family is awful; they would be certainly against any sort of relationship between us. Even more so a romantic one… hence I am hesitant about starting it with you, however I meant what I said. I– I want to express to you how much I cherish you. It torments me how I cannot– my inability to properly show you the strength of my feelings–”

“Ominis.” MC interrupted him. Their voice barely a whisper, surprising Sebastian in his emotional monologue, making him move away slightly. “I don’t want you to worry when you’re around me. Not about your feelings nor your family. There’s no need to perfectly show me anything. I– I want you to enjoy our time together just as much as I do. You make me feel so safe and comfortable, I just want you to be able to feel somewhat the same when you’re with me. Not be concerned.” They sighed, their voice losing their strength. “I’m sorry if my confession made things complicated.”

“No. It’s not complicated.” Sebastian responded satisfied with where this conversation was going. “I have feelings for you, there is no question about that. As well as I want to be with you.”

“Really?” He could hear the brightness return to their voice, Sebastian was sure their eyes were sparkling, and they had a stupid smile in their face.

“Really. But I wonder if I am enough.” MC made a confused sort of snort. “I was not enough to help Sebastian in his pursuit. I failed my bestfriend. What is it to tell me I won’t fail the person I like?” Sebastian made sure to put his own bitterness in his sob speech, a bitterness that MC heard very loudly. They reached out to Ominis in a second, not even stopping to observe his severe expression. Sebastian almost lost his breath as they enveloped him in a tight embrace, arms around his waist and face burrowing into his shoulder. He felt MC exhale onto him and squeeze before mumbling in a choky voice.

“You are enough. You were always enough.” Sebastian couldn’t help but feel his own chest tighten and embraced MC back. He waited for anything else they could say that would sound remotely comforting. For him, not his portrayal of Ominis. He almost felt as if he wasn’t alone anymore. Waiting was a mistake. “Sebastian simply wanted more than anyone could give. He was selfish. Selfish and reckless. What started as goodwill and kindness quickly spiralled into ruthlessness and imprudence. He would’ve gotten you killed had you followed him.”

Sebastian squeezed MC into his embrace. They took that physicality as Ominis accepting and understanding their words. But his thoughts were lost, reflecting an enraged mind. Any regret he might have felt in the future for hurting MC had already vanished. They continued disappointing him. He felt corrected. His choice of using MC for their ancient magic was the right one. To betray them as they had betrayed him was nothing but reckoning. He'd tempt them. And he would make sure they would have no way of denying him. He hummed in response.

“You’re right, MC. I should not let Sebastian’s mistakes allow me to doubt myself, to rob us of a future. Nor Anne.”

Any guilt Sebastian might have felt didn’t exist anymore. If anything, he was determined to make MC submit to him. Whether he wanted to prove a point to Ominis or get Anne’s location, didn’t matter. He would achieve these goals as well eventually, yet seducing MC was a retribution of his own. But it was going to take time, one he would savour. He was likely going to enjoy it too. He was careful to approach them slowly, first with his words – Ominis was a man of eloquence afterall – so as to not spook MC.

He would slip petnames onto daily phrases. Darling, love, my dear. “Could you be so kind as to pass me the ink, love?”; “Did you take notes for History of Magic, my dear?”; “Good morning, darling, did you have breakfast yet?”. To each and every one of these, MC would have a more interesting reaction. Gasps, sighs and – Sebastian could only imagine – blushes. Even when it was obvious that he would slip them into his speech next, they would be surprised. Oh, and when he would purposedly leave them out, MC would also illicit intriguing responses. Scoffs, sharp exhales, and the restless tap of fingers. MC was very easy to provoke and to understand. They were slowly growing impatient, Sebastian had noticed. Their physical flirting had gradually left the Undercroft and appeared in class sometimes, as provocation.

It was his turn, however. So, Sebastian would lightly scold MC. Which in turn turned out to be amusing on its own. For some reason, MC didn’t seem to mind. Every provocation being met with a scold, was repeated not much later. It went something as hands brushing against each other and MC holding his pinky finger with their own on top of the desk during a lecture, to which he’d respond by leaning towards them, tilting his face near theirs just close enough they would be the only one capable of hearing, and whispering something of the sort “Don’t you think the Undercroft is more appropriate? Right now, I am trying to pay attention, my beloved.” And MC would respond with either a giggle, a slight chuckle, or a harsh exhale, promptly letting go of his hand just to grab it again a few minutes later. Upon his new discovery, Sebastian allowed himself to be bolder.

Still respecting the private guy persona Ominis exuded, he started touching MC furtively. The knees in contact were a constant of theirs. During breakfast, class or even just sitting around in the Undercroft. He would casually ask them to guide him through the castle by his hand, as an innocent excuse to hold theirs – something they would always giggle to, but never deny him – and would interlock their fingers. He would ask more often for help with grabbing things, reaching things, and touching things so MC’s hands would rest upon his for a longer time. Time or another he would scan his surroundings with his wand, making sure all were distracted, to grab and squeeze their knee. When Sebastian was feeling especially bolder, he would squeeze their thigh. To which MC would jump slightly in their seat. They even once scared Natty during a study session in the library. Sebastian did his best to hold down a laughter.

Yet one would think Sebastian would have made any moves on MC while on the Undercroft. But he didn’t. He purposedly made sure to keep in there the same atmosphere as outside, taunting MC. He had tasted – quite literally – what tension could do to them, so he was awaiting with anticipation to when they would pounce once again. He kept everything as chaste as he did in public. The least tamed act was the thigh squeezes that tended to become more often as MC would misbehave more frequently – likely on purpose. He would allow himself to be more verbally flirty, complimenting MC often and almost absent-mindedly than before the confession. Except the tone would remain the same as if they were in public. He knew he was driving them mad. That was the intention.

And, oh Merlin, was he having fun. All the time and energy he was spending, slowly provoking MC, was definitely not his method of choice, but certainly a fun one to pursue. And it was rewarded handsomely that Friday. Sebastian had had a most satisfying day of flirting with MC but needed to cut it short because they’d promised to study with Natty – he had been banned for the thigh incident, although Natty didn’t seem to have noticed. Apparently, MC and him getting closer was expected by everyone since Sebastian’s miserable attempt in keeping Ominis captive.

Sebastian left his room to feed Ominis and when he returned MC was sitting in his bed, waiting for him. It’s a king single bed, clean linen with an emerald duvet folded neatly on top. With two pillows looking soft and inviting. It has a canopy with matching emerald drapes, tied around the foot of the bed. The room has three beds arranged in a triangle, with the opposite side of the top bed having the students’ luggage and pets resting. Sebastian’s things were no longer there, just Ominis’. Each bed has their own drawer and writing desk, on each side of them. They're all made of the finest wood, adorned in silver and green details. The ceiling is very similar to that of a gothic cathedral, in stone and gargoyles, but much closer so that one could reach it upon standing on the bed's canopy if they so wished. The walls had forest green wallpapers, with branches and leaves in velvet, complementing the motif of the room.

“Ominis.” They called, a smile coming through their voice as soon as he crossed the heavy door. Sebastian smiled sincerely happy.

“What do I owe you the pleasure of this surprise?” He barely kept his Sebastianess at bay. He didn’t see MC’s arched brows in a confused, but amused stare.

“I finished the study session and… thought you could use the notes.” They shrugged approaching Sebastian. MC reached out and held his hand passing some parchment to him. He nodded in thanks. “I also wanted to see you.” They admitted still holding his hand. He smirked back.

“I’m glad you did.” His free hand reached up, searching for their face. His index finger touched their cheek lightly, his middle finger their jaw and his thumb their lips. He pressed slightly stronger when he noticed the placement and caressed their bottom lip. “I have been thinking about you too.” He felt MC smile against his hand.

“Not as much as me. I think about you all the time. It’s almost exhausting– ” MC complained still smiling. Sebastian smiled back.

“It’s not a competition.”

“ –and not enough.” They continued as if they hadn’t heard him. He frowned, tilting his head slightly downwards as if to hear them better. “I can’t get enough of you.” Oh, wasn’t he a lucky boy.

In just a couple of weeks he had made MC fall head over heels for his bestfriend, in just the right way he wanted. They were under his thumb, completely submitted. Victory was his. He just needed to convince them to use their ancient magic on Anne. To save her. But Sebastian couldn’t even start talking again, monologuing a guilt trip to bring them to his side. Simply because their lips crashed into his without previous warning. Or rather, he supposed I can’t get enough of you is a fair warning.

MC’s lips flattened with the strength which they pressed against Sebastian’s, their hands reaching out to his chest and fervently searching for something to grab onto. They held onto his robes’ front hem, furiously pulling him closer, with an urgency that would have driven anyone to the edge. The parchment fell from Sebastian’s hand. He could only widen his eyes in response, disoriented. Then their lips moved. Teeth knocking, breath hitching, and a caught moan was heard from MC.

Sebastian finally realized what was happening and his hands started to move. Down their face to the length of their neck, thumb resting on their jaw. He could feel MC’s pulse mimicking the speed of his. His other hand raised to their side, grabbing their waist, and pulling them closer before dropping to their hips to keep them there. MC’s hands left Ominis’ robes, rising to his neck where one of them knitted their fingers in his short hairs, slightly tugging at them. A groan in response could be heard from Sebastian in Ominis’ voice and their bodies were so close one would think they’d been glued together.

Sebastian gasped for air, not realizing how excitedly he’d been kissing them. MC took the opportunity to reach out to his neck with their mouth, leaving open-mouthed kisses from his collarbone to behind his ear, to then leave a couple of marks under his chin and a bite on his neck which received a very low groan in approval from Sebastian. He didn’t need to ask, and their mouths were together again, this time Sebastian was ready.

Their lips kissed and tugged, biting and sucking in hunger. Something MC would later consider very un-Ominis-like. But then and there, touching Ominis was all they could think about. And Sebastian was not far off. Enthralled on the thought of having MC, he licked their bottom lip in a suggestion for deeper contact while pressing them closer to him, rubbing their front against his. With a soft gasp, MC parted their lips wide enough to allow for Sebastian’s kiss, loosening their grip on him enough to instead melt into his arms. Sebastian hand moved from their hips to their lower back grabbing and tugging at their robes, quietly wishing he could take them off. His other hand moved to the back of their neck, his turn to tug on some hairs.

MC moaned into Ominis’ lips, their hand falling from his neck to grab onto his tie, quickly undoing it. They tossed it aside with a chuckle of approval from Sebastian. MC’s hands travelled to Ominis’ robes, unbuttoning them and, with a murmur, helping him get out of them. Their hands sliding the robes off Ominis’ shoulders as one of his hands still held onto MC. They broke the kiss long enough for Sebastian to drop the robes onto the floor and push MC further into the room towards one of the beds. Their lips promptly found each other again, tongues incessantly tasting one another. MC couldn’t help but moan against Sebastian. His hands quickly returning to their waist, travelling through their torso, up to their tie. Sebastian undid it swiftly and tossed it over his shoulder.

He turned them around and walked backwards, groaning as he felt MC sneaking hand over his trousers. His calves hit the bed and he sat down, bringing MC with him to sit on his lap facing him. Sebastian quickly felt for the button of their robes and unlatched them, hearing them slump loudly onto the floor. Their hands promptly found Sebastian again, resting on the back of his neck. The kiss stopped for a moment, and he could feel MC’s gaze on him. Were they admiring him? The mess they made him? He wondered how he looked like.

His chestnut hair all messy, even more than it usually was. His plump lips even more plump and swollen from the rough biting and sucking. He even wondered if his neck freckles were adorned by hickeys and bites. He smiled to himself, satisfied for leaving MC speechless with his appearance and leaned up towards them. He found their chin and kissed their jaw towards their ear, grabbing onto their waist, and starting to work on their neck. Then MC called out to him in a shocked whimper, making him remember that he wasn’t snogging them as Sebastian.

“Ominis…”MC called out tentatively, their voice barely a whisper surrounded by uncertainty. They gulped loudly. The sound almost getting lost between their breathless breathing. “We’re– We’re on Sebastian’s…” Sebastian realized in an almost panic that he had dragged them to his bed, not Ominis’. He felt a chill run down his spine. Ominis’ would never make such mistake. He wasn’t sure how to evade this, so he heard himself start rambling.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” He unlatched from their neck, gasping for breath, looking around alarmed.

“It’s okay.” MC calmed him down, moving their hands from behind his neck, buried in his hair, to his shoulders then to his chest. They moved uncomfortably although their voice sounded confident, suddenly very aware they were snogging sitting on Ominis’ lap on top of Sebastian’s bed.

“I couldn’t possibly be a worst friend…” MC froze in his arms, unsure of what they were hearing. He hesitated before exhaling shakily. “I doubted Sebastian all throughout his search, sceptical about a cure.” MC felt Ominis shake slightly under their hands, starting to spiral. “I discouraged him when I should have supported him, I even dismissed him sometimes. Merlin, did I ever sound such as Solomon did?” He wondered. His eyes slightly widened staring up at MC, Sebastian remembering some instances Ominis scoffed at his pleas for assistance.

“Ominis…” MC called out in a soft voice dreading what sort of fears would spill out of his mouth. “You didn’t. If anything, you sounded as a worried friend.” They tried to sound confident while reaching up towards his face, their hand travelling through his neck to his jaw and cupping his cheek. He frowned in pain and continued.

“I thought his search was just something to keep him busy, I didn’t think he’d go far… so far as to dabble in the dark arts. I should have predicted his obsession would tire me out enough to bend to his will. To show him the Scriptorium. To further his research, I’m sure he practiced in secret…” His breath hitched, his voice trembling as his eyes welled with tears. MC kept their voice steady and strong when they muttered a “It’s not your fault”, sounding confident, for his sake. But their breath was also shaky, betraying their spirit. They hoped Ominis didn’t notice as they felt their own expression paint a worried look.

“I couldn’t quench his anger towards his uncle, and it spiralled out of control. I couldn't stop Sebastian from killing him…” Sebastian closed his eyes tight and felt MC pull his face towards their chest while muttering “It’s not your fault” again. They held him there, their other hand moving from his chest to his shoulder then lowering to his back. MC rubbed large circles softly but constantly, embracing him so sweetly Sebastian almost felt all the pain from Anne’s curse, Solomon’s death, Ominis’ and their betrayal float away. A distant memory.

He allowed himself to savour the embrace and wrapped his arms around them, finding their back with his hands. He grabbed at their shirt, almost as if grabbing at her soothing words. “It’s not your fault” was heard again. Then he continued. “I am weak. Weak for allowing Anne to get hurt. For allowing Solomon to hinder a cure to be found. For failing to find a cure myself…” Sebastian mixed his own feelings with the ones he was supposed to paint for Ominis, sounding almost angry. “For not stopping Sebastian… Could I have stopped Sebastian?” He asked, in a whine, sure of his friend’s inability to end his own search but wanting to act just right.

“No.” MC confirmed. A confidence in their steady tone. “I don’t think anyone would have been able to stop him. Sebastian was blinded by the dark arts, corrupted. Certain it was the only way to save Anne. It didn’t matter what we wanted; not even what Anne wanted. I doubted he knew what he wanted himself. Simply that he had a selfish need to cure Anne. And I think he’s likely still stuck in that state, acting reckless out of desperation. It’s not your fault. I don’t think it’s even his. But our choices have consequences. And his have far more painful ones than any of us could’ve imagined. You tried to help him make better ones, but you’re not Sebastian. You can’t choose for him.”

Sebastian trembled in their arms. He was Sebastian. But, even if he made a different choice now, it was too late. His path was already taken, and his friend’s ones were as well. They had already chosen to betray him. He remembered his previous thoughts in his first day acting upon his madness. That his friends saw him as a monster. Deep down, he had doubted that. And perhaps hearing MC talk he could see they pitied him over hating him. Sebastian couldn’t decide if this was worse. But the anger in his chest continued to boil in the same temperature. He continued trembling and MC wondered if he was crying.

“I must look pathetic. Dishevelled in your arms, tormented by guilt over my awful efforts at being a good friend. Even worse, your lover.” He complained looking down, with his forehead buried in MC’s chest. His voice a thin lament.

"It doesn't matter to me if you're a little broken, it never did. If anything, this whole ordeal broke me too. Now, we need to gather the pieces. Together. I'd like to do this together with you. You're not pathetic, you're strong. The strongest I know. And if you need me to remind you of that I will. Your efforts are enough, Ominis.” But this isn't like you, she thought. "And I will love you here too, when think you have failed, but all you did was try your best." He was satisfied with that answer, MC’s declaration very loud and clear to Sebastian.

He pushed back slightly, with a shaky breath. His hands were hurting from grabbing at their shirt too tight and he felt cold from separating from them. He got far away from them enough to look towards their direction with his brow furrowed and his lips tight in contemplation. He relaxed for a second, his unseen eyes looking for their seeing ones, and a hint of panic had settled on his expression before he asked for a last confirmation of support. “You’ll still love me through it all, right?”. Sebastian asked feigning restlessness and lack of confidence, trying to ascertain his power over MC even if he had made a mistake. One that would not destroy his plan, he was confident, but which speech might have fed the seed of doubt in MC.

To that question MC did not hesitate to confidently agree “Yes.” He smiled, his confidence returning to his face, his shoulders rising high in a deep breath. But they looked in his face for any remains of all that pain that had already vanished, in MC’s opinion, too fast. They had realized the trembling in their arms were not tears although Ominis’ eyes were once filled with them. Their confidence slipped away. Doubts roaming around once again.Ominis wasn’t that weak minded.

Sebastian’s absence would have weighted terribly on him, but he was always a very strong person. Being raised by a terrible family, worrying about some foolish pranksters throughout his years at Hogwarts since he was a kid, even getting used to his bestfriend disregarding his deepest fears. Dealing with the worst kind of abuse from those closest to him had to have made him tougher. If anything, it wasn’t Ominis who dismissed Sebastian’s concerns, but Sebastian’s who dismissed his. The self-pity had to have a limit. Because if MC admired something about Ominis was his pride, that could hurt like a knife, just as it did on the first day they met, but could also inspire trust, as it did all these days looking after Sebastian together.

He simply didn’t sound like him at all. But the pained look on his face, the face they admired for so many months in stollen glances, pushed their doubts away. Only long enough for MC to nod in agreement, holding his hand now cupping their face and kissing its wrist. They closed their eyes and heard Ominis completely relax, his breath exhaling shakily. And in the silence between them MC’s thoughts got loud again. They quickly propped a soft chaste kiss on Ominis’ lips, with their eyes open watching his reaction. He smiled satisfied and a sinking feeling churned in MC’s stomach. They got up, grabbed their robes in a haste and left the room, not able to shake off the now familiar notion that something was very wrong.

Sebastian went to visit Ominis with a smile plastered on his face. He had proof MC was enamorated with him. A proof that he hoped would drive Ominis mad if his loneliness hadn’t done so already. Sebastian had been busy focused on alluring MC that he did not have any meaningful interaction with Ominis in weeks. He was always around them, every minute of every day trying to make the most of the time he had as his plan was yet to be exposed. Although, in all honesty, he was likely simply enjoying himself. He’d come around only to drop his food and stayed to hear one or two snarky remarks to satisfy his friends’ social interaction need. And that was it. He would then leave hastily to re-join MC. That was probably not enough for Ominis.

And if he could see, he’d notice it much faster. Ominis’ eyebags were impressive as his nights were terrifying. Sounds that weren’t there tormented his ears, the screams of the family the Gaunts forced torture upon would melt into the scream of MC in the Scriptorium. Sometimes he could hear whispers even when awake, judging his inability to escape the situation he was on. Marvolo snickering. His father sighs. Sebastian’s dark chuckles. He’d renounce that sense as well by dipping into the bath, diving, and hearing nothingness underwater. Sometimes for such a long time he felt his fingertips like raisings.

So, it wasn’t surprising when he stopped responding right away when Sebastian called out to him without much care. That evening (?) was the same. Ominis sat on the bed, facing the wall in front. His posture upright and stiff, a shadow of his years as a Gaunt. He heard the door open but didn’t believe his ears, unmoving. He also didn't react when Sebastian called.

“Here.” Sebastian said, tossing the tie towards Ominis general location.

Ominis frowned feeling a piece of cloth hit his shoulder, waking him up to reality. He rolled his eyes, touching his bed to find the cloth. “How many times have I told you not to throw anything towards the blind–” He stopped himself upon grabbing the cloth and realizing he was holding a tie. His scold died down into a confused scowl. “A tie?”

“Their tie.” Was all Sebastian said, confidently, as if they were sharing an inside joke. Ominis chuckled.

“And?”

“Do you not believe me? Smell it. I’m sure it still got their scent.” He provoked, a smirk in his voice. Ominis didn’t have to smell it to know it was MC’s, their scent was strong enough for him to feel it without actively seeking it out. It was rather memorable for him. Sea salt, chocolate, and the distinctive smell of soap. He just wasn’t sure why he was holding MC’s tie.

“What is this for?”

“How do you think I got this? Do I have to spell it for you?” Sebastian retorted with a sigh, starting to lose his delicate patience. Ominis frowned, deep in thought. Then he stood up in a flash. Sebastian heard the springs of the bed and laughed out loud. “That’s it. They were kind enough to let me take it out of their delicious neck.” He provoked. Ominis tried to approach, but Sebastian reached out with his wand towards him. He had to stop at the feeling of his own wand poking his chest. It couldn’t kill him but could definitely hurt.

“What did you do to them?” Rage was palpable in his voice, his knuckles white while holding tight around MC’s tie.

“Showed them a good time.” Sebastian smirked. Ominis responded with a ferocious sound, almost a growl. Sebastian found it amusing, entertained by his former friend’s anger. “Alright, alright. Settle down.” He asked amidst laughter. Ominis obeyed, breathing heavy. He retreated backwards towards his bed until he was sitting upright, stiff once again. “It was just some snogging–”

“With my face?!” Ominis interrupted, outraged. Sebastian chuckled once more.

“Obviously. Or did you forget you pushed me to run away, bestie?” He asked dripping sarcasm.

“You’re lying to them. You’re betraying their trust!”

“And I’m willing to do worse.” He threatened suddenly tired of getting scolded by his self-righteous former friend. He rolled his eyes at Ominis’ silence, a well-known desire to explain himself slipped out. “You both betrayed me first. It’s your fault. You forced my hand.” Ominis scoffed. Sebastian regretted saying anything.

“Where’s Anne?”

Ominis tightened his lips in a fine line. He debated whether telling Sebastian would make him stop any kind of manipulation he might be doing with MC, but he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t sure either if he was stable enough to see Anne.

“Merlin! What is it with you both, thinking I will harm my own sister?” Sebastian asked to no one really, the frustration getting the better of him. Ominis wondered if both meant MC as well. “All I want is to cure her! Argh.” He screamed. Ominis remained impassive, without moving a muscle. Then he spoke calmly.

“What are you going to do to Anne?”

“Cure her.” Sebastian responded in a growl. So certain as if he had already found a cure. Ominis relaxed his face before frowning again.

“I’ll tell you where Anne is. But you need to know that whatever you do, including curing her, will end in her hating you.” Ominis stated candidly.

Sebastian frowned, anger rising. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I do. You’ve already done too much that can’t be forgiven easily. You’ve already lost me, you’re about to lose MC and I’m sure you’ll lose Anne too. This is the path you’ve chosen.” Ominis responded with certainty. The calmness in his voice bubbled something inside Sebastian’s chest.

He approached Ominis and reached out to him. Ominis did not move, sensing himself a prey under the watchful stance of his predator. Sebastian hand found his face, his index finger on his protruding cheekbones. His fingers were cold to Ominis’ cheek. He chuckled darkly, raising his hand, and slapping him. Hard. The sound echoing through the room. Ominis’ face turned harshly with the impact. “Where’s Anne?”. Sebastian asked as if nothing had happened. Ominis didn’t move to face him again, his voice sounding distant.

“She’s staying with Mr. Ndiaye and his twin daughters.” If Sebastian heard tears in his voice he completely ignored it, finally letting go of their friendship. Perhaps at the same time Ominis did. Any painful stab at his heart upon seeing Ominis in his tiny room stopped meaning anything to him. And any apologies Sebastian could utter would carry no more meaning to Ominis.

–––––––––––––

*No reproduction of this text allowed without credit*

#hl #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #mc #sebastian sallow angst #hogwarts legacy angst #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #fanfiction #fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfiction #writing #meustextos #eventual ominis gaunt x mc #the lost and found #gn!mc

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randomshyperson · 5 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/randomshyperson/734623074843049984/hellooo-so-ive-been-reading-your-fics-for-about

Heyoo so I haven't watched that one lol is it good? I've seen a bit about it but haven't given it a chance yet, yet I have seen France, Spain, DRUCK (and very excited for the fic of that one ngl 🤭) and ofc the OG, have you seen the Spain one, it's one of my favourites frrr also can we get a little sneak peek of the other story (if you don't feel comfortable that's okkkk thank you so much for sharing your work with us 💕) also can I be 🐜 anon?

FIRST OF ALL, GO WATCH WTFOCK SEASON 3! Like, their Evak season is one of my favorite versions, Sander is such a sweetheart, he's the best Even, boyfriend material. And all the characters were allowed more screen time and plots, remember the girl that Isak tries to date in order not to look gay, and the only function the Original (and most remakes) gave her was to be the annoying girlfriend? WE HAVE THE SUPERIOR Noor Bauwens. She's just so-

I'm too gay for this.

I can't speak about the entire Wtfock. The 3th is really good, but I haven't watched the other two. Also, a lot of people hate the 4th and I never watched. The new season is nice, I've been busy to follow them, but the couple has a lot of chemistry and it's WLW so I'm down for it. All episodes are available on Youtube, which is a super bonus.

But yes, I have seen Eskam. I love Crisana (and cris season is so fun) and I was never able to get over my crush on Joana and that's okay. I don't like the first season much, but love the girl's squad dynamic. Also, their Noora/Vilde Season is something else, right? I feel like the put on a lot of things the fandom wanted to see in the original.

I think I have seen at least one season (or a few episodes) of each remake. I didn't follow them all, since the first four seasons are the same plot, but I have seen them all. My favorite was Skam NL, and to this day the fact that they got canceled haunts me. Skam Italia is amazing, all seasons! The characters have incredible chemistry and they changed a lot of the dynamics, it makes it feel like a new show. AND I LOVE DRUCK, are you kidding me? Third-best after NL version, they have the best chances into the storylines and the new generation is just superior to anything the others tried to do it (I'M TALKING TO YOU SKAM FRANCE). And we have Transgenders Characters falling in love, talking about the subject and it's so so beautiful. BTW, I like Skam France too, but they broke my heart with Maya and Lola breaking up so I'm not on good terms with them.

I hate Skam Austin and can't believe they approved that.

I don't wanna share the story because I'm always changing it! And I have dozens of drafts, and none is usable haha But I can say that the main inspiration will be the healthy versions of Noora/William. Sorry, but the original one is just not it for me. I loved Nooreva too much and hated William. Plus, Noora literally gets sick from anxiety while dating him, so nope. Not gonna work. Lucky for us, Skam Italia and Druck gave us healthy versions of this couple. I think Edoardo and Eleonora are the main inspirations, but Mia and Alexander are incredible as well. I could put some references to Skam NL as well, since Liv and Noah are very sweet and I feel like the closest I could be to a William is the Noah Sad artist version.

I can't give any spoilers for the druck fic because I want it to be the best one, Kieutou is my favorite skam couple. I'm gonna invest some extra time into this one.

#ask box #🐜 anon #🐜

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voyeuristicvixen · 1 year

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Captns Log No. 36_ChaChange$

Our first house party... SHIT WAS LIT. If you been followin my blog since the beginning then you remember when we first moved to Fakrava Island, we have moved into three homes during our time here, from tiki hut to private island to this big ass custom house. We really thoroughly enjoyed our time here, this is where we raised our tigers, and Yemi during her first months. It was super special that on our very last week here we were able to celebrate all the lil milestones with the biggest one we had in our list.

I also got to share my love for music w the people and return to some of my personal SL roots. Being apart of the commune that was always my role there. I was known as the commune DJ and I was known for throwing wild themed parties like my favorite one which was a Andy Warhol theme based on the art scene he created in New York in the 80s. IYKYK. This time it was different because I was able to share a whole other side of genre of music and aesthetic w my people that connects to another side of me. That was dope. I am a hippie rocker alt chick at heart but I also am an African hip hop head too. LOL.

I didnt get much photos but Wav got all the good ones here the album link: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.104507015518461&type=3 The spread was doin its thing! We had all the tings, Mystory enbled food platters from Lucas L, Mura, we had the Junk Food Jello Shots the Tredente Punch, we had Hennessy straight from the best market Del Mar they always hook it up!! Like. We had the wineees and ofc I provided CBD waters from starseedsbotanica and was givin out free exclusive candles and soaps. We really went in! Oh ! there was also a tray of all kinds of fancy party favors we had brownies, shrooms, joints .... lmao everything. And surprisingly had some left over, the drugs was prolly the first thing to go tbh ahahaha!

We didnt have any tip jar out or anything like that because it was just about the energy. I really wanted ppl to feel something new and different from this party, which is actually an old school SL vibe and tradition of being which is, sharing with others. What good is all these fancy homes and cute foods and clothes and objects if we arent using them to have fun, socialize and connect with others! Thats what the Linden bears are all about. The magick in giving something you made to someone else. Sharing your hard work and creations with your friends and strangers who you want to connect with.

I am def going to miss our room, Its literally when you finally get everything decorated the way you like that something happens where you got to leave lmao. I feel like ive even written about this before in past blogs because we have had rude awakenings in the past with our living situation. Lil Yemi is about to be one and shes moved so many times already! XD

Afro Nation fest was wild, I wont write much about this because it was a bittersweet thing for Wav and I. The sim was packed instantly hundred ppl there.

Asake performance was wild, we changed 3 times! We put on a real SHOW! I was basically IT girl dancer because the other three coordinated without me, even though I sent all the info of the outfits I put together to match his outfits in the discord. Outfits that were free/ affordable to get and fire! It was hilarious when I see them pull up in one fit they wore the entire show that didnt match anything on stage. LMFAO. They tried to leave me out but it did not work. I had all my routine set because I actually went to rehearsal lmao. I wont say anything else besides WAV AND I KILLED IT. He was also the only artist who had three changes during the show. We didnt get paid, thanks for any of our work.. for showing up to every rehearsal despite our RL shit we had going on, for rearranging our schedule to accommodate and perform. But we did it for the culture not for money intially... until we realized that none of the people were actually kind to us, talked to us or treated us like apart of the team. Sad.

DRAKE?!

So I made a line of intention based spell bound candles, completely original each one is hand poured and infused with crystals and magick. They are only found at my botanica on TheBlvd : http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Meroe%20Blvd/62/175/33

Theres one that helps you connect with your ancestors, spice up your life with love and adventure, theres one for intimacy in the bedroom, theres one for money of course! I made one specially for men and one for self empowerment too! Each one is set with intention when you click the candle its completely interactive and gives you stats.

When you rez them out they have a box of matches and little crystal pyramid with them that is to compliment and enhance the intentions in the candle. These candles help you with RL too because the energy of the intention will manifest in all realms of your life. Ase!

I also made palm stones, I chose the most helpful on hand allies I could think of. This all comes from the knowledge and wisdom I use and have gained working in my RL. I used to be a gatekeeper at a modern day botanica for many years. It is actually one of the most popular ones here in LA, visited by many high profile people. I am really exciting about merging this aspect of my RL with my life on the grid, overall it has felt fulfilling to my heart. ;)

I made spell infused soaps as well! Every botanica out there has em and they are for the practical mystics out there! Everything at my botanica is mystory compatible and boosts stats! Mainly happiness, energy and social!

Aw, our last lil pic as we packed up our fakrava home, we moved for a second to a house in Aussie shores and then from there we now live in our true home on the Mystory sim. I call it true home because that is where Meroe is, that is where the Botanica is, our new Secondlife family is found there. We wouldnt have it any other way and we are so grateful and blessed to have it.

#mystory #secondlife #blackgirlblogger #secondlifeblog #secondlifephotography #secondliferp #roleplay #avatars #virtualworld #metaverse #gridlife

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emoali · 2 years

Text

I was thinking about you and your doc appointment. You said it takes 15 min and it sounds like a regular occurrence. That sounds like the blood work appointments my coworker with breast cancer has... Are u okay?

How I can work on gratitude

-youtube/podcasts/journaling

Affirmations/change verbage in thought

How I can train my mindset to ^

Any suggestions?

I really would like to work on my confidence and acceptance of myself

So I can be more comfortable in social situations.

Last week I listened to a podcast about perfectionism and I felt like I realated to it. I have intrusive thoughts when I wish I could change things and when I relive past conversation on an almost obsessive level. Like I'm almost punishing myself when I relive something I wish I could change with an intrusive thought that can and is mostly suicidal. Like kill yourself or I want to die.

I want to let things go but mostly not relive memories that trigger an intrusive thought.

Self talk is really important right? Then I really need to work on that because I am often thinking now "I am really sad" and "I am not okay" it's almost like an intrusive thought it's like an obsessive thought. I say it often and repeat it over and over again in my head when I'm not feeling the greatest. it's a bad habit iv picked up recently how can I make myself feel better? Or not say that? What can I do today and right now that will make me happy when I don't feel like doing anything?

For example I have been eating a lot of junk food. I haven't been keeping up with my routine. I was super tired yesterday and passed out in discord. I have been going through a lot of stressful things. Doctors appointments .... My car... Work...

But I need to remind myself that I am strong and that I can overcome these tough situations and They are only temporary!!! That's the key word these things are only temporary. I just want to be able to be strong the whole day. Not eating junk food every time things get rough and tough. I also want to forgive myself for that bad habit I created. I am self aware now that I can accept a few moments of weakness but I am strong and I don't need a crutch 🩼 I will be better and I will keep growing and I will reach my goals.

One example why work is stressful and I say my boss is a dick is the way he talks to people. Sometimes It's not even targeted at me but I still feel affected by it because it makes me scared that he will talk to me that way. He just yelled at my manager who's been here for 24 years and asked her "ARE YOU FREAKING BRAIN DEAD?" Because she forgot to put an address on something. She's the one that is on chemo pills and has brain fog cuz of the chemo and everything. I just need to remember that he can be that way and not take things personally if he ever comes at me like that. It's just a job and it's not the end of the world if he lets me go and if he disrespects me like that I'll just remember that he can't do anything to me I just have to try to learn from my mistakes and do me best.

Like if I get let go I'm really not missing anything by working for someone whose wife disrespects Brandi for having cancer.

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a-libra-writes · 2 years

Text

Spending the Holidays with The Boys

ive been listening to christmas music all day so why the fuck not

In this preference, you'll be spending time with: Hughie, Billy, Frenchie, MM, Kimiko, Cherie, Homelander, Maeve, Black Noir, Starlight

Hughie Campbell

Fuck yeah, he loves Christmas. Hughie doesn’t get hit by the holiday bug until he starts hearing the music and seeing the lights put up all over the city — and he tries to tell you he’s not that into it, but his happiness says otherwise. When it comes to dates, he knows the perfect places to go ice skating, to see gorgeous Christmas light displays, and so on. And, yes — that Billy Joel Christmas album is getting played. Ad nauseum. He will gladly encourage any holiday baking you do and be your taste tester even if he dislikes the flavor or it came out badly.

Billy Butcher

No surprise, Billy is a total scrooge and thinks America’s obsession with Christmas and Santa shit is weird. Are you decorating the fucking hideout with garlands and ... fucking sparkly pinecones? Where did you get that shit from? Alright, so maybe you being so obviously happy is cute, but he’s still going to be a grumpy asshole about it. Billy only plays ball if there’s mistletoe involved and that’s just so he can have another excuse to kiss you. A big reason he’s so bitter about the holidays, apart from how kitschy and commercial it is … is because Becca loved it. So the holiday just brings up sad memories.

Frenchie

You want to decorate for Christmas? Well… why not? Frenchie didn’t get a chance to really celebrate it growing up, so why not make up for lost time? He helps you bake whatever you please (his favorite part) and loves to hear about your family’s recipes. He’ll help you decorate the hideout too, which is a two-for-one deal of both annoying Billy and making the place look better. Frenchie thinks you’re absolutely adorable when you’re dragging him to a gorgeous Christmas tree display or urging him to try the newest thing you baked.

Melvin Milk

Melvin loves Christmas and he’s happy someone else feels the same, considering he’s not able to spend it with his family. At first he thinks you decorating their dingy hideout is kind of silly, but he can’t help himself from joining in. He’s going to make sure those lights are even and that the tree’s ornaments are symmetrical and …. You get it, Melvin kind of gets really into it. The hideout is going to be filled with Christmas shit, much to Billy’s annoyance. Oh, and he’s the king of gifting. Even in dire situations, he gets you something cute and thoughtful.

Kimiko Miyashiro

Kimiko has heard about Christmas, but it’s not as though she’s done anything for it. She’s curious by your excitement, and when you bring her along to see light displays at Central Park and the tons of silly ornaments in stores, she kind of gets the appeal. Kimiko really likes the food and animal decorations, and the weird-colored trees. Your special-made hot cocoa quickly becomes her comfort drink. Eventually she asks Frenchie to tell her a little more about it, and on Christmas day she’d surprise you with a (poorly) wrapped gift!

Cherie

First of all, Frenchie told her how excited you were about the holidays, and she found that just darling. She helps you get some decorations to that dingy place you’re hiding in because a) It’ll annoy Billy and b) it could really use some fucking cheer in there. She’s the sort of person whose great at finding thoughtful gifts, if she doesn’t just make them herself, and she likes to get creative with wrapping paper. If you got her some clothing or jewelry, she’s going to wear it until it falls apart (and totally brag to Frenchie about what a sweetie you are).

Homelander / John

So obviously, Homelander has to put up his All-American “Merry Christmas Jesus Loves You” schtick when in public, but… yeah. Of course he never had a “real” Christmas. Thus, he’s nothing if not incredibly bitter when he overhears people going on about their holiday plans. You going off to visit family is just going to make him absurdly jealousy, so it’s best if you’re the type who stays home. That way he can pop in (like he often does…) and soak up the Christmas-y atmosphere of your home. If you can drag him into baking or helping you with the tree, he’ll actually calm down a lot. He's the most likely person to get you an overextravagant gift that he thinks is a "Good, Normal" thing to buy on Christmas, like an expensive necklace.

Maeve / Maggie Shaw

Holidays are bittersweet for Maeve. On one hand she loved them as a kid, on the other, her dad often gambled away money so there was little leftover for presents or fun decorations — not to mention her holidays were overrun with auditions and performances. So, once you start begging her to help you bake or go ice skating or look at lights, she gives in quickly. For once Maeve finally feels normal as you admire Christmas tree displays with other couples, or listen to old cheesy music while cooking up a storm. You can tease her about how romantic she’s being, but she insists you’re the one who turned her into a sap.

Black Noir

You didn’t think Black Noir cared about the holidays too much, though he’s a difficult one to read. You figured he was just spending time together as always, but then he’d bring you cute sugar cookie recipes, or point out a dazzling Christmas tree at the park. When you started to find little Santa-hat Black Noir ornaments on your tree, you just had to tease him. By far, Black Noir’s favorite activity is building increasingly eccentric snowmen. Your neighbors have complained more than once.

Starlight / Annie January

Yes!! Christmastime!! This is Annie’s jam. She has a hard time keeping her excitement in check as you pull out boxes of decorations. She teases you about being the sort of person who gets ready on December 1st, but yeah, she’s helping you. Her gingerbread house skills? Unmatchable. Annie’s favorite trick is when you two go out to look at lights in the neighborhoods; she uses her powers to coordinate them to whatever Christmas song you both are listening to on the radio. When the homeowners come out to see what the hell is going on, you two drive off giggling, feeling like teenagers.

#the boys x reader #the boys imagine #hughie campbell x reader #billy butcher x reader #frenchie x reader #melvin milk x reader #kimiko miyashiro x reader #cherie x reader #homelander x reader #queen maeve x reader #maeve x reader #starlight x reader #black noir x reader #annie january x reader

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ladyartemesia · 3 years

Text

The Kiss

◐ PART VIII of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐ Part VII ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: this one is a little darker, descriptions of violence, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, strong sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, lots of people have, use and are threatened by knives, kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker…

Word Count: 4250

Author’s Note: I said it before but it bears repeating...You have no idea what your support has meant to me. Truly your asks and your messages and comments…they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As many of you know I faced a medical emergency recently and you were all so lovely. The best followers on this site and I MEAN that. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx and @untaemedqueen were (and continue to be) the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story. It wouldn’t be here without you.

——◐——

Two Years Ago

——◐——

Centuries ago the moon goddess stumbled across her human soulmate while he was sleeping. Struck by his beauty, but reluctant to reveal her identity, the goddess began to visit him in his dreams where she could hide her true form and appear before him as a mortal woman.

In the world of dreams their love flourished and from that blessed union the packs were born…

The wolf nations celebrated this sacred romance every ten years during the Festival of the Lover’s Moon…

The day of the festival was spent eating and drinking and dancing at large parties, but when the sun went down… well—

That’s when things got really interesting.

On the night of Lover’s Moon the young unmated wolves of the pack were permitted to commemorate this legendary love story in a decidedly scandalous manner.

The unmated men assumed the role of the goddess’s sleeping lover—they were blindfolded (to represent slumber) and led into a large sectioned off area of the dark forest to ‘wait and dream.’

Unmated she-wolves over the age of maturity (eighteen) took herbal scent suppressors and ventured out into that very same forest in order to anonymously ‘visit’ the young men ‘in their dreams’...

The rules for what exactly that meant were pretty fast and loose which was why Min Yoongi was thanking the goddess and every other deity he could think of that Yunli was still seventeen.

“But I will be eighteen in two days! Please can’t I just—“

“No. Absolutely not under any circumstances ever.”

“But Yoonji is going!”

“Ji-ah is nearly nineteen and has never been interested in any of the snotty little man-pups of our pack.” He snorted. “She’s probably going out just so she can shove a bunch of them in the lake.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Yunli mumbled irritably.

Kim Taehyung yawned idly and snuggled into the cozy little pallet he prepared at the base of his favorite tree. The blindfold he and all the other unmated ‘lovers’ wore was made from witchcloth and could not be removed while the sun was down—so he had snuck into the forest earlier to set everything up.

Now all he had to do was wait until—

“H-Hi Taehyung.”

Oh sh—

“Uh. Hello...Miss.”

Taehyung didn’t recognize the owner of that voice, but he knew for sure who it wasn’t.

“I was hoping to find you tonight.”

This is not good.

“Well I’m—I’m flattered… naturally but—”

She touched his hand and he squeaked.

“I was thinking you and I might get to know each other a little bet—eep!”

The sharp point of a custom blade pressed directly into the unfortunate young beta girl’s pulse point.

“Are you lost, puppy?”

A heavy cloak obscured the newcomer’s features, but there was no mistaking her meaning.

Taehyung bit his lip to keep from snorting as the poor she-wolf scrambled away.

“Ji-ah,” he tsked with feigned disapproval, “that wasn’t very nice.”

Min Yoonji grinned as she sheathed her wicked looking dagger and slid languidly into his arms.

“You don’t like nice girls, Kim Taehyung.”

“I like you,” he whispered breathlessly against her lips. “Nice or not—it doesn't matter to me…” His hands slid greedily over her soft curves—pulling her closer till he felt the beat of her heart against his own. “I’ll like anything as long as it’s you.”

This was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas.

Jimin huffed as he struggled to find a comfortable position against the giant boulder he’d chosen as his perch.

Why did I let Taehyung talk me into this?

He could be at home—in bed—comfortably sleeping off the all-day feast he’d indulged in.

Instead he was out in the middle of the forest sitting blindfolded on a rock in the off chance that one of the she-wolves was out looking for him.

Not bloody likely.

Not when prime targets like Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook—and countless others—were scattered throughout the woods.

“Park Jimin?”

Every hair on Jimin’s body stood on end.

It was a soft whisper—the speaker clearly didn’t want her voice to be recognized, yet something about the sound sent a curious frisson of interest down his spine.

He gulped.

“Yes… that’s me. But if you’re looking for Hoseok he’s just a little deeper in. You probably caught his scent downwind so—”

“I’m not looking for Hoseok.”

Jimin licked his lips and the sight of it sparked a odd curl of heat in the pit of your belly.

“I don’t know where anyone else is…”

“That’s quite alright.” A muted shuffle of movement reached his ears as you settled down beside him. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh…” He rubbed the back of his neck idly. “Are you sure?”

Laughter like fairy bells whispered through the air and Jimin felt his heart clench.

Don’t get your hopes up.

“Who are you?”

You were silent for a long time and then—

“I am someone who owes you a debt. One I have never been able to repay.”

Jimin’s head tilted curiously as he considered your words.

“I’m sorry, miss… you must be mistaken. There isn’t—“

“You don’t remember.”

It was a statement—not a question. Your voice was nearer now. He could feel the warmth of your body close to his—though not quite touching. “It was your wolf that saved me. But you had not gone through the Change yet.”

Familiar shame spiked sharply in his chest.

“I’m seven years past the Change...Why have you never mentioned this before?”

“Circumstances prevented me from doing so.”

There was a cold finality to your pronouncement—which of course did nothing but further inflame his curiosity.

“Then why come to me now?”

“I’ve come to repay you.”

Jimin’s mouth dropped open.

Were you trying to—?!

“Oh—no please that-that’s not necessary—I could never take advantage of—”

You giggled again.

“I am not offering my body, Park Jimin.”

Jimin breathed a heavy sigh of relief then shook his head with a wry chuckle.

“Well considering the circumstances I can hardly be blamed for assuming you might be. And honestly most men would jump at the chance to—”

“You...are not most men.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed beneath his blindfold.

“Little she-wolf—I may not be wrestling bears for fun or bare knuckle boxing in the town square, but I am still an alpha.”

The weight of his command poured over your body as he spoke the last word. There was no order or intent—he had simply given you a taste of his power.

Aside from your direct blood relatives, no alpha had ever dared unleash their compel in your presence—therefore you were utterly unprepared for the effect it had on you—

Utterly unprepared for the strange surge of want so potent and profound that it stole the breath from your body.

It was primal—invigorating—

Sensual.

You and your wolf may not have been entirely connected yet, but she was suddenly quite vocal about her desire to fully bask in Park Jimin’s attention.

A wicked grin played over his lips as he leaned in closer and you could almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your cheek.

“Did you think I would not desire the touch of a beautiful woman in the moonlight?” he whispered.

Please touch me, Alpha.

Your eyes widened.

Dear goddess. Your inner wolf was turning out to be a shameless hussy.

“You might desire it, but you are far too honorable to accept it as payment for a debt.”

Jimin drew back warily.

You were correct of course. After all he had refused you when he believed that was your intent but—

“How could you know that?”

Evade. Evade now.

“Well... how could you know I was beautiful? You’re blindfolded.”

He shrugged and your wolf took careful note of the way it made all the pretty muscles in his back and shoulders ripple.

He will give us such strong—

Oh boy.

He will do no such thing. Please calm down.

“Not everything must be seen with your eyes.”

Is that how you found me? All those years ago...

Questions churned chaotically beneath your consciousness but you dared not give voice to them.

Focus.

“I must repay this debt. Ask for what you want and—if it is in my power—I swear it will be yours.”

Jimin smiled again, but this time it was somehow softer. For a moment he looked almost…

Sad.

“I’m afraid that the only thing I have ever wanted is not within your power to give...and I dare not ask you or anyone else for it.”

For her.

He sighed and drew even farther away from you—in fact it seemed like he was preparing to leave.

No.

Your hand reached out almost of it's its own accord and wrapped tightly around his wrist. The contact sent a shock of searing heat through his veins and he froze.

“Please alpha. It is not acceptable for someone like me—” a leader, a Luna, “—to owe another my life and offer nothing in return. You must let me pay my debt.”

Omega, his wolf growled, sweet perfect omega.

Suppressors may have hidden your scent, but the siren song of an omega pleading prettily in his ear was unmistakable—irresistible…

“What if all I want is your name?”

You sighed deeply.

“I cannot give you that. My name is… not mine to offer.”

Jimin laughed.

“A woman I cannot remember with a name I cannot know and whose face I cannot see.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you are just a figment of my imagination.”

It was hard to explain what happened next...For whatever reason his words cut you deeply and you were overcome with the desire—no need—to refute them somehow.

“I’m real enough,” you whispered, bringing his hand to your cheek.

Jimin was genuinely beginning to wonder if you were a witch as well as a she-wolf. Being close to you was intoxicating and the urge to draw you in was steadily overpowering every other thought.

“Could I ask you for a kiss, then?”

“You—...You saved my life and all you want... is a kiss?”

The air grew heavier as the strange magnetic pull between you swelled to a silent inescapable crescendo.

“In Seoul I often searched for someone who could ease my loneliness, yet each time I walked away emptier than before.” His thumb brushed gently over your lips and your eyes fluttered shut. “I have never had a kiss that meant anything to me.”

But yours might.

It was unclear who moved first, whether he pulled you to him or you surged forward but when your bodies aligned and your lips met his for the first time it was as if you had never been separate from one another.

As if you had always been deeply—intimately —together.

The indescribable feel of him lit over your senses like a struck match. It was an ignition in the purest sense of the word— a fiery visceral awakening fueled by a consuming flood of desire.

Yes, Alpha.

He might never see your face or hear your name, but Jimin knew he would remember the taste of you for the rest of his life. It was hot and bright like liquid sunshine— a pure relentless light flowing through him where there was once only darkness.

A soft needy moan rose up from your chest and he growled in primal satisfaction as you melted against him.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt of their own accord, desperately trying to bring him closer until he wrapped his arms around you in a heated embrace.

“Please,” he begged breathlessly against your mouth. “Please tell me who you are.”

The words crashed over you like a bucket of ice —dousing the hazy pleasure of his kiss with a cold bite of reality. Suddenly you were wrenching yourself away from him and your wolf whimpered in misery at the loss of his touch.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

And then you were gone.

“Did someone hurt you?”

You looked up to find Jin taking in your tears with cold fury.

Twin knives were already gleaming dangerously in his hands and he appeared ready to filet whichever bastard was foolish enough to make you cry.

“No,” you sniffed—well aware of how pitiful you were at the moment—crying in the corner of your cousin’s kitchen. “I got myself into this mess without any help—as usual.”

Jin sighed and slid down next to you.

“Tell me.”

“Something happened that I…I didn’t intend.”

“Oh I knew that already. The Luna isn’t supposed to be running around on the night of Lover’s Moon in a forest full of blind horny wolves—“

You snorted and shook your head.

“You’re absolutely right. I should have stayed away.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed and he wondered if perhaps you had caught Kim Namjoon with another omega. Nothing would be official until after the Change of course, but your bond with him was basically a foregone conclusion at this point.

“You went looking for someone...didn’t you.”

You nodded miserably—all but confirming his fears. He made a mental note to push Namjoon in the swamp at the next available opportunity.

“You know... the stories say that a Luna is powerfully drawn to her mate under the Lover’s Moon—that her wolf can sense him even before the Change.” He reached over and gently began to brush the tears from your eyes. “So it’s not surprising that you sought him out, but it’s not really fair to hold whatever it is you saw against him. There is no relationship between you yet and…” he chuckled, “kisses beneath festival moonlight don’t really mean anything anyways.”

It was clear that Jin had somehow gotten the entirely wrong impression, but perhaps that was for the best.

No one knew of your connection to Jimin and no one had seen what passed between you.

Still…

Something about his assessment stung you.

“You really believe that? ...That a kiss exchanged tonight means nothing?”

“I do.” Jin spoke with conviction. “There’s ancient magic at play in those woods. You can’t always trust what you see—or what you feel.”

“Oh I...I didn’t know…”

After a moment you laid your head against his shoulder and let the last of your tears run silently down your cheek.

“Jin-ah have you ever wanted something you knew you couldn’t have?”

“Yes.” He sighed heavily and pulled you in to snuggle a bit closer. “When I was younger I dreamed of having a mate just like everyone else…”

The words were so softly spoken—almost wistful. Your heart splintered just hearing them.

“But… she could be out there—your mate.”

Jin shook his head.

“When is the last time you heard of a female alpha?”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes.

“Jin…”

“Hey,” he whispered, “don’t waste your crying on me. I’ve long since come to terms with who and what I am.”

“You’re not sad anymore?”

“Well… maybe sometimes I am… but I had to accept that people like us are not like everyone else. Our destinies were written long before we were born.”

“And you believe you’re destined to be alone?”

“Wolves in a pack are never really alone.”

“Yes...but they can be lonely,” you whispered thinking back to Jimin’s words.

For a moment Jin’s eyes were the saddest you had ever seen them.

“Well...I suppose they can.” Then he chuckled and gave your nose an affectionate little tap. “But you don’t need to worry about that. When the time comes Namjoon will take his place at your side and the two of you will build a wonderful life together... Isn’t that what you want?”

Isn’t it?

Your treacherous thoughts drifted back to the boy in the moonlight—to the way your body sang when he touched you and the strange insatiable desire to know him and be known by him in return.

“Please...Tell me who you are.”

A heavy ache settled in your heart.

You were the Luna of the mountain nations. A true born moon princess.

You could never be the woman who kissed Park Jimin underneath the stars.

You were not like everybody else.

“...Yes. That is what I want.”

——◐——

Now

——◐——

Jimin’s heart pounded as he tore through the dark paths of the wood with Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jungkook close behind.

He had never led an attack—had never been trained to command wolves in battle.

It was his first true test of leadership and he hadn’t even been a leader for twenty-four hours.

Yet the fears and anxieties that might have normally clouded his mind were notably absent.

There was only you.

Ironically Jimin owed Namjoon yet another debt—this time for explaining what exactly someone like him was capable of.

The alpha Jin captured had given up their plan and position after being exposed to Jimin’s unique gifting, so he had a concrete target in his mind… He suspected however, that your captors had taken precautions after leaving some of their men behind. They had shifted their camp.

But it wouldn’t be enough to save them.

Jimin didn’t need your location to find you.

He spent years refusing to look at you, and even then he always knew exactly where you were. He could sense you in any crowd—hear your voice in a thousand.

Once it had tormented him cruelly to be so aware of you.

Now it was the only thing keeping him sane.

He followed the connection between his heart and yours like a lifeline and it guided him as surely as the stars.

The alphas followed him without question.

If any of them harbored lingering doubts before, they were firmly laid to rest after what they saw at the cottage. No ordinary wolf could do what he had done.

The Alpha would bring back their Luna and retribution would be swift indeed.

The drugs in your system kept swinging you in and out of lucidity like a nightmarish pendulum. You tried to shift after the initial nausea faded, but whatever they gave you kept your wolf caged beneath your skin.

Jimin

The longing you felt for your mate was the only thing tethering you to reality. You could almost hear him echoing in the far corners of your mind—

I’m coming Omega—hold on.

I’ll find you.

Part of you recognized that his voice was likely nothing more than the wistful creation of your drug-addled mind, still you clung to it like the last shred of hope while the minutes (or hours) flew past.

Chaos clouded your thoughts even in clearer moments as many unavoidable concerns forced their way through the haze.

Jin was at the house with you when they broke in. You had no way of knowing if he survived.

The men who took you were crass and irreverent. Their eyes followed your form with too much interest and too little respect.

It was starting to get cold and (due to you nearly dismembering a high council member and needing to be compelled unconscious) you were still wearing a thin white ceremonial dress which offered very little protection from the elements.

You wondered idly if your idiot captors would let you freeze to death before they accomplished whatever it was they took you for. They clearly needed you for something or you would have been long dead by now.

None of them struck you as particularly brilliant planners so the mastermind must be somewhere else...

Frankly the entire situation was as puzzling as it was troubling. Iron Claw had always gotten along well with your pack.

Technically they were (almost) what the human governments called a vassal state. The presence of a Luna determined the dominant pack in a region and the Luna of the mountain nations had been born into Silver Fang—your pack—for the last thousand years or so.

Why would they challenge us now?

The birth of a Luna indicated that the goddess had chosen that pack to lead. Their willingness—not only to kidnap you—but to go against the dominant pack by doing so was alarming to say the least.

A sudden explosion of movement and sound interrupted your contemplation. Motion erupted all around you—boots pounding on the ground, men falling into their wolf forms, knives being drawn…

You lifted your head—straining forward to see the source of the commotion—and nearly collapsed in relief when you finally did.

Alpha

Your mate stood at the edge of the camp flanked by two enormous black wolves.

A deadly looking jingum sword gleamed dangerously in his right hand. You recognized it immediately as your great-grandfather’s combat blade—the thousand year-old weapon of the Silver Fang Alphas.

Relief flooded your chest all over again at the sight of it. Only Jin could have given him that sword—which meant he was still alive.

The black wolves—Yoongi and Jungkook—snarled viciously but made no move to attack.

Your captors were still scrambling into some sort of combat formation when Jimin finally spoke.

“You have violated our sacred laws, trespassed in sovereign pack lands, kidnapped a Luna under the protection of our goddess, abducted the mate of the Silver Fang Alpha, and risked open war between our peoples.” He took a single step forward. “Surrender now and I will be merciful.”

The biggest of your captors—a man you recognized as the de facto leader—spat viciously on the ground.

“You are not my Alpha,” he growled.

A cold—almost cruel—smile twisted over Jimin’s lips.

“Very well.”

Then he dropped to one knee and a massive grey wolf—Taehyung—leapt over his head and tore out the defiant leader’s throat before he even hit the ground.

Your mouth dropped open.

Bangtan formation.

Yoongi and Jungkook lunged forward in opposite directions, tackling their targets to the forest floor in a bloody clash of teeth and claws.

One of the larger Iron Claw alphas half-shifted and charged Jimin but his arm shot out lightning fast, catching his attacker by the throat to send him flying through the air into a tree.

The next several minutes could only be described as terrifyingly beautiful.

It was immediately clear that Jimin had been holding back when he fought Namjoon.

He dispatched his opponents with such elegant savagery it was almost art.

You were so mesmerized watching Jimin sensually sword dance his way through a dozen alphas nearly twice his size that you almost missed Taehyung’s wolf rushing over with a dagger clenched between his teeth.

Luna are you okay?

You grinned and held up your rope-bound wrists.

“I’ll be better once you pass me that knife.”

Taehyung nodded once and dropped the blade at your feet before tackling another wolf that was tearing towards the two of you.

You sawed through the ties around your ankle first then twisted your arms to try and slice through the restraints on your wrist.

The Iron Claw wolves were clearly no match for Jimin and his alphas.

Jungkook and Yoongi chased after the few who were trying to run while Taehyung half-shifted to subdue the handful of wolves left alive as prisoners. Only Jimin continued to fight as the last three of your captors still standing took turns being slammed into the dirt by his strikes.

He was clearly capable of dispatching them, but you were fairly convinced that you would die if you had to stay away from him for another second. The ropes, however, were surprisingly thick and the angle you were cutting them at wasn’t the best. If only—

You were almost free when you saw it.

One of your captors had pulled a hunting javelin from their supply wagon. He must have hid himself at the onset of the fight, but now he was comfortably concealed by the shadows—and taking aim at Jimin.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

The attacker appeared to handle the weapon with familiarity. He was too far back—too well hidden—Jimin would never see him in time—

The last cord around your wrist snapped and you were on your feet, pushing through the combined haze of fury and sedatives to charge the wolf who dared attack your mate.

By the time he saw you it was far too late.

Under the effects of the drug your aim was a little skewed but you weren’t Kim Seokjin’s cousin for nothing.

One clean flick of your wrist and the dagger shot through the air, burying itself between the brute’s shoulder blades—all the way to the hilt.

His body fell to the ground just as Jimin sent the last of your captors careening into a pile of previously defeated foes.

For a moment all was quiet.

Then your eyes locked across the distance and everything around you sharpened to a single whispered word.

“Jimin.”

He had run non-stop for miles and torn apart a dozen wolves to get to your side—no amount of space between you now was tolerable.

The sword clattered to the forest floor as he moved toward you—desperate to feel you—to wrap himself around you and know that you were safe.

What happened next was as natural as breathing.

You opened to him and he lifted you into his arms, taking your lips in a hot unrepentant kiss.

Fire exploded across your senses, burning away everything but the touch and taste of him. Every part of you was at once fiercely and gloriously alive. Desperate moans passed between you as he licked into your mouth—a dark primal promise of the pleasure he would take between your thighs.

“Alpha,” you whimpered, too delirious with want to manage anything else.

Suddenly Jimin’s eyes shot open. His hands flew to cup your face, searching it with a mixture of realization and disbelief.

“You… It was you.”

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malfoysstilinski · 4 years

Text

girl in the mirror | DRACO MALFOY

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: in which draco and y/n are soulmates and can hear each others’ music, and you’ve been blasting sad songs all week, worrying draco.

WARNINGS: one mean joke about americans sozzles

A/N: based on the tiktoks where soulmates can hear each others’ music. i dont think ive seen an imagine like that on here so i thought i’d write one :)) also set in 2010s

In the Wizarding world, on your thirteenth birthday, you are officially bound to your soulmate. This means different things for different wizards and witches, depending on what they valued. For example, when Blaise Zabini turned thirteen, he was able to see his soulmate in mirrors-- fitting considering how self-obsessed he was.

Draco, however, heard music. You must be obsessed with it, he realised. He found out he was right pretty quickly, waking up to the sound of your playlists muffled in his ears and falling asleep to them too.

It was always Muggle music too. You must be a half-blood, or even… Merlin forbid, a Muggle-born. Realising that his soulmate wasn’t going to be a pure-blood like his parents had planned, Draco kept the news to himself and worked on his vocabulary. He tried his best to bite his tongue around Granger, ignoring his friends when they made fun of their ‘dirty’ blood.

He didn’t want to hurt you when he got to meet you.

It took Draco longer than it should have to realise you definitely didn’t go to Hogwarts. How could you when he’d be sat in assemblies, the room so silent you could hear a pin drop, and all he’d hear is the thumping of your music in his ears as if he was underwater?

“She’s probably an American,” Pansy pretends to gag, the others laughing with her.

“Could be a Beauxbaton,” Blaise suggests.

Draco doesn’t like to make assumptions, but he thinks you are definitely a Muggle. It’s rare, but not unheard of in the Wizarding world, especially nowadays. For the Malfoys, though, it would be an outrage.

You play your music the most when he’s eating dinner in the Great Hall or when he’s getting ready for bed.

At first, he hated it. He hated your music, he hated how his head was rarely ever quiet, and he hated that he didn’t know who you were in order to beg you to take your headphones out for once.

However, Draco learnt to love your music. Songs and bands he’d never heard of before quickly became his favourites and eventually, he found himself humming your Muggle tunes in the common room or quietly singing along in his dorm when the other boys were out doing whatever.

He learned to love having your music in his head, especially as the years rolled on and his life became harder and harder. It made him feel like he was never alone, your muffled melodies making a home in his head and pushing out all of his anxiety and depression.

Draco wanted to dance with you to them. He liked to lay in bed at night and listen to your songs and imagine that you’re lying next to him. He bets you have a nice singing voice. Maybe you can even play an instrument or two. Maybe you could teach him how to play the guitar, and maybe he could show you how to play his favourite pieces on the piano.

Your music is never too upbeat, but today Draco feels like he hasn’t heard a single song that wasn’t about being sad. As he trudged from class to class, Draco couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with you. It had been going on for the past few days, and the music stopped altogether on one of the days.

He went to bed with an empty head for the first time in a few years, staring at his ceiling. He plugged his iPod in and went to the Muggle section, playing a few of your favourite songs. It wasn’t the same.

“What’s up with you?” Blaise demands as Draco doesn’t touch his meal for the second time that day.

Draco glances to his friend and looks away, shaking his head. “Mind your own business, Zabini,” he mutters weakly.

Blaise’s soulmate, a Slytherin in the year below, joins them at sitting on the table and Blaise immediately forgets all about Draco, the two of them giggling as they hug each other. Draco thought he could throw up right there and then, shaking his head in disgust.

Green was Draco’s colour and Merlin was he jealous.

Why did you have to be a stupid Muggle?

Draco immediately feels bad for even thinking it. He wants to hug you and kiss the top of your head and mutter apology after apology. The soft feeling makes him feel weak. You did things to him that nobody else did, and he doesn’t even know who you were. The fact that you were most likely going through a rough time right now made it ten times worse.

“What’s wrong with Draco?” He hears Zabini’s girl whisper.

“Why don’t you ask me yourself?” Draco snaps, lip curling in disgust. “Instead of talking behind my back like a coward!”

“Draco,” Blaise growls. “I don’t know what’s up with you, mate, but you need to calm down.”

“It’s your soulmate, isn’t it?” Pansy quirks an eyebrow from opposite them. “Are they playing that rubbish song you hate on repeat again?”

“No,” Draco hisses in defence of you. “I like that song, thank you.”

Pansy holds her hands up. “Okay, whatever. Sorry, Malfoy. What has got your knickers in a twist, then?”

He hesitates. He doesn’t like talking about you to anybody else but he’s really worried and he thinks maybe one of them might be able to help.

“She’s…” Draco’s eyes drift to burn holes in the table in front of him. “She’s been listening to sad songs.”

Goyle snorts, making Draco’s head snap to him in fury.

“Sorry, Malfoy, sorry… But that does sound ridiculous, mate,” Goyle admits. “She’s probably just into that… genre?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Draco huffs and shakes his head. “You don’t know her like I do. Something’s wrong with her, I can tell.”

“Well, why don’t you visit her?” Blaise asks, grabbing a grape and popping into his mouth.

“What?” Draco spits. “Is that a joke, Zabini? I don’t find it funny--”

“I’m not joking,” Blaise frowns. “Merlin’s sake, Malfoy. Do you not pay attention in Charms?”

“Of course I do,” Draco hesitates, lying. “But what are you talking about, anyway?”

…

Draco feels ridiculous as he stands in front of the mirror in the bathrooms later that night. It’s silent since it’s the middle of the night, but Draco knows you’re awake because of the glum music playing faintly in his ears.

He wants to visit you like Blaise told him to do, and as he stands in front of the mirror and casts his incantations, he can’t help but wonder if this is a setup. He doesn’t give his hopes up, doesn’t hold his breath that when he opens his eyes you’ll be on the other side of the mirror.

But he wants you to be. He wants you to be there so badly.

Draco does sort of believe it so he put on his black turtleneck and black suit and combed his hair like usual, replacing the uniform and robes he’d been wearing all day. He doesn’t want you to see him and be disappointed.

He knows he won’t be disappointed no matter what you look like or what you are.

Draco takes a deep breath as he lowers his wand and closes his eyes. When he counts down and opens his eyes, he’s stunned into silence by the sight in front of him. His heart skips a beat and he nearly chokes on his own spit.

Staring back at him in the mirror is not his own pale reflection but what looks like a bedroom. The mirror glows orange from the lighting and he can see that it’s decorated with posters and records and other Muggle things. Draco doesn’t even process that you’re a confirmed Muggle at this point, he doesn’t care enough about that.

On a single bed in the middle of the room, sat up in the very centre with headphones in and a laptop in front of her, is a girl his age. She’s got beautiful y/s/c skin and y/c/h locks that have been thrown up into a messy bun, her y/c/e trained on the screen in front of her as she watches what he assumes is a film or a tv show.

She’s wearing a school uniform, not quite as posh as Hogwarts’, and it’s slightly crumpled from sitting in her bed with it on. Her polished black shoes are nowhere to be seen, rips in the bottom of her tights no doubt from wearing them thin five days a week.

Draco can’t believe he’s looking at you right now. He reaches his hand out, eyes widening when his fingers seem to slip past the glass and he’s sucked into another world-- your world. He wasn’t expecting it to happen, a small yelp leaving his lips as he tumbles straight out of the mirror hanging on your wall and onto your carpet.

You both scream as you make eye contact and you’ve thrown your laptop about in a panic. There’s no music in his ears now that he stands in front of you. Draco breathes heavily, unsure what to say.

“Um, hello?” He offers.

“What the hell?” You yell. “What are you doing in my bedroom? Who are you? My laptop!”

You ignore him as you dive off of the bed and pick it up. The screen is smashed making you glare at him harder.

“I’m sorry!” Draco practically squeaks. “I- I have Galleons--”

“Who are you?” You cut him off roughly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Draco keeps repeating, hoping you will calm down. “I-I’m Draco Malfoy.”

“Draco Malfoy?” You repeat with a mocking laugh. “Is that a joke?”

“No,” he replies, voice pitched higher than usual with offence. “What’s your name?”

Normally you wouldn’t tell a stranger your name, but this situation is anything but normal. You stare at the boy for a few seconds, wondering why he feels familiar. There’s something about him that has you relaxing under his gaze, which is weird because he literally just appeared out of nowhere.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you reply sceptically.

Draco smiles, “beautiful name.”

“Are you like a nonce or something?”

“Nonce?” Draco crinkles his nose in confusion.

You narrow your brows at him. “You’re literally British-- how do you not know what that means?”

“I’m not… I don’t really come from your kind of England,” Draco doesn’t know how to explain there is an entire world she’s been hidden from-- this is the first Muggle he’s ever had a conversation with.

“Are you Welsh?”

“Do I sound Welsh to you?” Draco cocks his head to the side, already amused.

“Sometimes I can’t tell the difference, not gonna lie,” you reply. “But no. I’m sure you’re English. You sound like you’re a private school kid or something.”

“I guess I am,” Draco replies quietly, looking around your bedroom and taking in all of the colours that it has.

You seem to snap out of whatever daze you were in. “Hey! You distracted me. Now tell me what the hell you’re doing in my bedroom before I call the police.”

Draco’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he contemplates his next words. He hesitates and sits down on your bed next to you. You can smell his cologne-- it smells much more expensive than the Lynx sprays the boys at college seem to be obsessed with.

“Do you ever hear music in your ears?” He asks, watching your eyes widen in conformation. “You do. That’s… that’s me. My music. I hear your music too. You listen to it all the time. Um… normally a lot of bands and stuff.”

There’s a long silence. “Do you have me on Spotify?”

“What’s Spotify?” Draco’s nose crinkles.

“You probably just see what I listen to on Spotify!” You claim, standing up as you become weary of the boy on your bed.

Draco still doesn’t quite understand your Muggle terminology, but he gets the gist of what you’re trying to imply.

“That doesn’t explain the music you hear in your head from me,” Draco tries. “Or how I just came out of your mirror.”

You look overwhelmed. “What are you?” You whisper.

“We, Y/N, are soulmates.”

...

yuh

PART TWO HERE

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco #malfoy #harrypotter #harry potter #dracotok #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #gregory goyle #soulmates au #soulmate au #harry potter imagine #harry potter au #draco malfoy au

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Prisoner's Game Pt. 3 (Rowaelin)

~Aelin~

There was something decidedly pleasant about sneaking out of prison.

It was the thrill, she supposed.

She'd always been a bit of an adrenaline junky, and there was nothing that matched up to the excitement of breaking out of a maximum security prison with no one being the wiser.

Aelin ran through the tunnel, her steps sure and soundless, a smile blooming on her face. What she was doing shouldn't give her such joy, but along with being a thrill seeker, she'd always been just a little bit vindictive.

Or maybe a lot.

The map of the tunnels was still crystal clear after all this time, and she had it memorized down to the number of steps it took to get to the right turn.

It was a three hour run. Two underground, then one through the city out into the suburbs.

While the first two hours were definitely not fun, it was the last hour that was tricky.

Avoiding cameras, not drawing any unwanted attention, dressing so no one could see her face without looking too much like the criminal she was.

It was also more exhausting.

It was an hour of sprinting across rooftops, sprinting through town, then sprinting some more.

It was a little funny to her that the journey to where she needed to go was more difficult than actually breaking into the building.

She had a set of scrubs stored in a nearby lockbox, along with a wig and a few prosthetics to make her look more like Ansel, one of the nurses working the night shift.

The security guard, Shelly, was prone to reading romance novels during her shift and never questioned why she occasionally thought she saw two of the same person wandering around.

It was no different tonight.

Once she had everything in place, Aelin strode confidently through the halls, grabbing charts and nodding like she knew what the hell she was looking at.

No one stopped her, no one questioned her.

When she got to the room and chart she wanted, she slipped inside soundlessly and crept up to the bed.

Despite the ever-present urge to hurry things along, she stuck to her plan and kept the dose the same.

The person on the bed never woke up, never noticed her slip an extra drug into the IV bag hanging on the wall.

Silent, efficient, traceless.

Just like she'd been taught.

Leaving was even easier than entering.

She waited until real-Ansel had been out of the guard's sight for a while, then walked out the back door of the facility like she hadn't just committed a felony.

One of the few crimes she actually deserved to be in prison for, ironically.

Then she ran back, hiding in the traffic camera's blind spots and ditching the wig along the way.

It was a little stupid and drawn out to do it this way, not to mention unbelievably cruel, but Aelin had always had a flair for the dramatic.

Plus, like she said: exciting.

~Rowan~

Doubt is a strange emotion.

It starts small, so small you hardly even realize it's there.

And then, over time, it grows and grows like a fungus, eventually becoming something that you think about all the time. Something that kills you.

Rowan didn't believe in doubt.

His problem had never been with not believing in himself, it'd always been with the opposite affliction: over-conviction.

He believed things so fully, so deeply, it was hard to see it any other way.

It was what made him such a good lawyer. As the top public prosecutor in the city, he had a reputation for being impossible to win against.

He convinced himself of the defendant's guilt so completely, the jury had almost no option but to believe him.

He hadn't always been that way, he didn't think. Argumentative and stubborn, sure. His mother could attest to that. But never so unflinchingly self-assured. So alright with deceiving himself if need be.

If he had to guess, he'd say it'd started two months after the day of Aelin's trial.

He hadn't been lying to her four days ago; every word had been the truth. He'd worked his ass off all those years ago, trying to find something that would help him either clear her name or at least fucking sleep at night.

He'd given himself a timeline, deciding that if he couldn't find a single lead in two months, there probably wasn't one. Two months, and then he'd let it go.

He didn't regret stopping his hunt--he'd seen what an obsession could do to someone.

And when that day had come, he'd thought he was ready. He'd exhausted himself working both her case and the ones he was assigned, burning the candle at both ends and sleeping in the office more nights than his own bed.

There'd been nothing to be found. The evidence, the testimonies, the medical examiner's reports... they'd all pointed to Aelin.

So eventually he'd forced himself to stop looking.

But the sight of her swinging between the two court police officers, fighting for just one more second with him with a desperation he'd never seen from her... he hadn't known how he could just forget something like that.

The image followed him, haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers. Lined with tears and disbelief and so much hurt he felt like invisible hands were wrapped around his neck.

So he'd hardened himself against it.

He'd repeated the pieces of evidence against her, told himself she was guilty until the words were easy to say, forced himself to visualize the crime scenes of her victims whenever he thought of her.

Piece by piece, he'd swapped out the months of positive memories they had with stone cold facts.

And it had worked.

After a month, he could sleep again. After a year, he hardly thought of her and when he did, it was with disgust.

Yet now, over eight years later, he found himself with just the slightest amount of doubt again.

It was the same nagging, incessant feeling he hadn't been able to shake eight years ago. Back for round two, apparently.

At first, he'd played it off as nerves from their conversation. She'd worked him up so much he'd admitted how much he'd once loved her and said things he shouldn't have.

His body was reacting to the sadness in her eyes, the surprise that had bloomed when he'd told her he'd fought for her. It was emotion, nothing based in logic, that made him want to start looking again.

At least that's what he told himself.

But four days later, he found himself on the couch--he really did need to give up and just buy a new bed--staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep and not being able to.

Because... well because what if she was telling the truth?

Why else would she have told him that story?

What had he missed during all those late nights spent hunched over her folder?

The questions grew and grew, until that once-little shard of doubt started to slowly drive him mad.

The uncertainty, no matter how small it had begun, had grown to be almost irritatingly large and unavoidable.

He couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. The breadcrumbs that apparently only he could find.

What did that mean?

And why couldn't he just let it go?

"Fuck!" he yelled, throwing his blanket off and storming to the closet.

Like a love-struck idiot, he'd kept a box full of the stuff she'd left at his apartment during their relationship. The stuff that wasn't evidence, at least.

If it was something only he could find like she'd said, it was probably something only he had access to.

He dropped the box on his kitchen table and opened the lid.

Then cursed when the first thing he saw was a pair of red lace underwear. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about and remembering.

Especially when he'd barely been able to resist the temptation to kiss her in that interrogation room.

Something about the way she'd looked at him after he'd told her he'd fought for her all those years ago had rattled the grip he had on his control hard.

She'd seemed so... sad. So hopeless. It had brought out the urge to comfort her in whatever way he could.

Hearing about her childhood and how she'd been raised by Arobynn Hamel hadn't made it any better. Truthfully, it'd broken something inside of him.

She'd always been so positive around him--a ray of light he'd felt was put on this earth just for him.

And all the while, she'd been forced to live with and work for one of the most notorious crime syndicate members of all time.

He'd always known she hadn't had a good childhood, but there was a difference between foster care hell and an actual house of horrors. Rowan couldn't even imagine the things she'd seen. Been forced to see, to do.

She made it out, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

But had she?

If what she'd told him was true, she'd killed those people because she'd been forced to.

It hadn't been her choice.

But there was something else about her, something he couldn't stop thinking about.

The secret she'd eluded to, the one that apparently only he had the key to solving.

A secret she'd promised would explain everything.

He tossed the underwear on the table, vowing to ignore them.

Then threw them in the trash a minute later when that became impossible.

You're such an asshole, he told himself, shaking his head. It's been eight years.

Even if that part of their relationship was most definitely memorable.

"Jesus," he laughed, running a hand over his face. Why was he even thinking about that?

Maybe it was the look in her eyes four days ago, or maybe it was simply that Aelin had been an important part of his life. He'd never forget the connection they'd had. Maybe it would always be a part of him.

But that was ridiculous, because he'd been connected to plenty of women since. Plenty of gorgeous brunettes and redheads.

For some reason, he hadn't been able to date a blonde, but that didn't mean anything.

He was over her.

Obviously.

Forcing his thoughts away from Aelin, he grabbed the next thing in the box.

Her address book. Maybe she'd left a note in there?

He flipped it open, scrolling through blank page after blank page. Her cousin's address and phone number were there--both of which he confirmed with police records--but other than that, it was blank.

The next thing he found made the ache in his chest expand to a soul-sucking hole.

It was a travel brochure for Aruba.

The edges were frayed from how much she'd flipped through it, and notes in her handwriting were scribbled throughout the pages.

He remembered this, all right.

He'd woken up one morning, a morning that seemed like a lifetime ago, to find her laying on top of him, leafing through the travel pamphlet with a huge grin on her face.

"We're going to Aruba," she'd whispered in lieu of a greeting, leaning down to press her lips to his.

"Why?" he'd asked back between kisses.

"Because it's the perfect place to hide from your real life," had been her laughed response.

She'd planned a trip for them at Christmas. Their very first trip together.

Every time they saw each other, she'd shown him a new page or told him about a new activity she wanted to do.

In general, she was a happy, excited person, but he'd never seen her so thrilled over anything like she was that trip.

He'd hidden it better, trying to play it cool, but he'd been excited, too.

He'd pictured her on the beach, running in the sand and smiling and laughing and drinking from a coconut. He'd imagined sneaking to the beach one night and making love to her in the ocean.

He'd imagined getting down on one knee and asking her to be his travel partner for life.

She'd been arrested two weeks before they were supposed to leave.

He tossed the little magazine back into the box, shaking his head to clear it of the memories and long-lost dreams.

The only thing left in the worn box was books.

Aelin had volunteered at a publishing house, trying to get hired as a fiction editor, and she'd always had a book in her ridiculously heavy pocket book.

She'd given him a few of her favorites, claiming that if he ever wanted to know the "real her," he had to read them.

A statement that made a lot more sense now than it used to.

He grabbed the one on top and leafed through it, going through the pages and scanning.

When that didn't yield anything, he flipped to the back of the book and looked at the inscription she'd written him.

March 1

Rowan,

I know you're not a fan of fiction, let alone romantic, feminist fiction, but I hope you'll read this and fall in love with Elizabeth's character like I did.

Aelin

He turned the book over and looked at the front again, then flipped through it again, then went through the whole process again.

Why did he feel like something about this didn't add up? And why was this, of all things, what she'd left as a breadcrumb?

He didn't figure it out until he reread the inscription for the fifth time and realized the date she'd written.

March 1st.

It was wrong; she'd given him this book on his birthday in February. He remembered because he'd laughed about her giving a grown man a romance novel for his birthday.

Why had she put March 1st? And why did that date stand out in his mind?

Stomach dropping, he finally figured out why that date was so important. It was the date of the first murder.

Maddison Kliff, a state senator who controversially wanted to fund renewable energy in the upcoming year, had been murdered the morning of March 1st eight years ago.

Breadcrumb.

He grabbed the next book from the stack, Wuthering Heights, and flipped to the end.

Almost the exact same inscription, except the date was April 13th, and the inspiring character was Linton Heathcliff.

April 13th was the day another victim died.

Rowan's heart started pounding, so hard he thought he was going to either pass out or go into cardiac arrest.

What was the connection between these dates, characters, and victims? Rowan could feel it in his gut that this was what she'd been talking about. It had to be.

He flipped through the books again, looking for something else, but there was nothing there. Nothing was underlined or highlighted, and the books were all in brand-new condition, no pages were bookmarked.

"What are you trying to tell me, Aelin?" he whispered, rubbing at his temples.

He made a list of all the dates and characters, stared at it until he thought he'd go blind, and tried to think like her.

Except her mind was a complex puzzle he'd never quite solved, so that didn't give him anything besides a headache.

He looked in the box again, hoping to magically find another note or something that explained everything in simple, idiot-proof terms.

But all that was there was that damn Aruba magazine.

It's the perfect place to hide from your real life.

The words came rushing back to him, so suddenly and violently it was like his subconscious had been shouting it for a while.

Was that it?

Maybe the connection wasn't only between the dates and characters, but it also had something to do with Aruba.

Maybe that was where this secret, whatever it was, was hiding.

Knowing he was probably grasping at straws, Rowan grabbed his phone and called the one person who'd help him.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I need a favor, Gavriel."

He heard a heavy sigh. "Like a we've been friends for twenty years favor or like an I'm the Chief of Police favor?"

"The latter," Rowan answered.

"Dammit, Rowan, you're going to get me fired one day." That was what he said every time. There was a long pause, then, "What do you need?"

"Flight manifests from Rifthold to Aruba from ten different days eight years ago."

Gavriel caught on quickly. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a former flame of yours, would it? One currently serving time for ten murders from eight years ago?"

"Of course not," he lied, knowing he was busted.

Another sigh. "You need to let this go, kid."

Rowan ran a hand over his face, knowing that wasn't possible. Not when, for the first time since he'd been assigned this God forbidden case, he had a lead.

"Can you help me or not?"

"I will, as long as you promise to drop it once whatever you're chasing ends up to be yet another dead end."

Knowing he didn't have another choice, Rowan agreed.

Gavriel told him he'd send them over, then said softly, "I know you loved her, Rowan, but it's time to move on."

It's not that easy, he thought, thinking once again of Aelin sitting in that tiny cell, skin pale and hair too long.

"Thanks for your help," he said instead, hanging up before the lecture could continue.

A few minutes later, he was printing out the passenger lists from all the Rifthold to Aruba flights on each of the ten dates.

Starting with August 1st, he went through, passenger by passenger, and looked for an Elizabeth.

There'd been three direct flights to Aruba that day, so by the time he found it, his eyes were so tired he almost missed it entirely.

But there was a name that stuck out, one that was straight out of his copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Seat 14C had been occupied by Elizabeth Darcy, and she'd flown directly from Rifthold to Aruba on August 1st.

Rowan's jaw damn near hit the floor.

His hands shook as he highlighted the name, writing the victim's name next to it to keep it straight in his head.

His mind whirled with possible explanations, but he didn't let himself think about anything except the next date.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, he went through the passenger list for April 13th.

And sure enough, Linton Heathcliff was on one of the flights. In the same damn seat.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, grabbing the next sheet of paper.

He went date by date, flight by flight, and by the time he'd located every character, he was sure of what he'd found. What she'd left for him.

It wasn't a breadcrumb, it was the whole goddamn loaf.

Rowan barely made it to the kitchen sink before his stomach emptied as an explanation of what had really happened eight years ago started to form in his mind.

He didn't have all the pieces, but the ones he did have made him literally sick to think about.

Her insistence on being innocent, her begging him to look again, telling him only he could find the clues... it all made sense.

The doubt he'd been struggling with for eight long years suddenly disappeared, replaced by a certainty so swift and thorough and all encompassing, it almost took his breath away.

She hadn't been lying.

She hadn't killed those ten people.

She couldn't have, because...

"They're still alive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dun dun duuuuun

part 4 out next Friday (sorry for the slow updates I'm in summer school)

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitehorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fandom

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 2,698 Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the prison Warnings: Language, typical TWD stuff Requested by: Anonymous

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl was frozen. In all their time fighting side by side, Rick had never seen the archer freeze. But there wasn’t time. There wasn’t time for anything. There wasn’t time for a murmur of reassurance or an argument or a second to fully grasp the reality of what was about to happen and the potential consequences. Rick took one final glance at your face, which was pale as freshly fallen snow and eerily calm. How were you so calm when you knew what was about to happen? Rick raised the blade.

Rick was suddenly in his face and although Daryl could see that he was yelling he couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing in his ears, until finally Rick reached out and grabbed Daryl’s shoulders. It was like someone suddenly turned the volume back on and time sped up from the grindingly slow pace it had been crawling at.

Daryl raised his crossbow and turned, his expression pure agony, but he snapped into action and helped clear the way back to the cell block. He couldn’t really even remember the trip back or getting you inside or what Hershel had done next, what Rick had said to him, how they had moved you onto one of the beds… All he knew was that it had been chaos and now he was sitting at the side of your bunk, staring at the beads of sweat on your brow and how pale your lips looked and how your left forearm just was… gone.

Daryl sensed someone standing in the doorway and looked up to see Hershel there. Hershel had never seen Daryl look so poorly… Daryl couldn’t even come up with the right question to ask, but the veterinarian turned doctor seemed to know what was on his mind.

“We won’t know for a while. I think the amputation was fast enough, but even if we averted that crisis, she still has a lot to overcome. Succumbing to the trauma of shock or blood loss or an infection are the biggest fears now.” Daryl turned back to look at your still form and his eyes continually hitched on the stump where your left forearm should have been.

Rick appeared over Hershel’s shoulder just in time to see Daryl gently take your right hand in his. “How is she doin’?” he asked quietly. Hershel glanced over at him.

“No signs of fever so far. But we need more clean dressings, an IV, antibiotics,” Hershel murmured. “Without them I’m afraid even if she survives the shock, she’ll die of a blood infection.”

Rick nodded gravely. “Time we go find the infirmary then.” Maggie and Glenn, who were waiting nearby, stepped forward.

“We’ll go too. And if the infirmary doesn’t have what she needs, we’ll get it somewhere else,” Glenn said. Maggie nodded.

“Whatever she needs,” Maggie agreed. She glanced in at the archer and her heart ached. He was slumped over beside you, holding your hand in his like it was a lifeline.

“I’ll make you a list,” Hershel said, nodding at Rick.

Rick hesitated for a moment and then produced his handcuffs from his back pocket. Daryl looked up at the sound of the metallic clinking. He straightened up as he saw them.

“The hell are those for?” he growled.

“Daryl, we just need to be safe—”

“Nah. Ya ain’t puttin’ those on her,” he snapped.

“It’s just in case—”

“I said no!” he roared, standing up abruptly. “She ain’t turnin’! And I ain’t leavin’ her side. So, keep your damn cuffs. We don’t need ‘em.” He sank down into his chair again heavily, trembling slightly. Hershel glanced back at Rick.

“It’s alright. She’s in good hands here. Let’s get that list made up so you can go find those supplies,” Hershel said softly.

Daryl pressed your hand between his palms. It felt so small, fragile, between his own. He stared at your face for any sign of you waking but it was still. Your breathing was slow but a little shallow. He reached up and stroked his fingers gently through your hair and then rubbed your hand between his again to warm it. You felt a little cold.

He moved forward and laid his head down on his arms, your hand still clutched in his. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to go to pieces, barely containing the torrent of emotions swelling in his chest. If he’d been faster… if he’d paid more attention… this shouldn’t have happened to you. His only job was to keep you safe and he had failed. What if you never woke up? What if—Daryl’s face contorted as he could no longer stop the tears from flowing out. His shoulders shook as he gasped in heaving breaths. It was his fault this had happened to you. It was his fault.

“Daryl.” Carol’s voice was gentle and soft from the doorway and the archer hastily wiped the tears from his face and glanced up at her. “It’s not your fault,” she said. She knew he was blaming himself.

“Ya weren’t there,” he said, sniffling a little and glancing back at your still and silent form again, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I should have been able to protect her. It is my fault.”

“These things just happen. It’s no one’s fault,” she said, watching the tortured expression on his face. Carol’s heart sank. If you didn’t wake up, she didn’t know what would happen to Daryl. The thought scared her as much as losing you did. He was so in love with you. Carol wasn’t sure he’d come back from it if you didn’t make it.

Just then there was a commotion in the room outside the cells and Carol turned to see Rick, Maggie, and Glenn rushing back with full bags slung over their shoulders. Hershel met them at the door. “We got everything on the list,” Rick said, setting his duffel bag down on the table. “And then some.”

Hershel heaved a sigh of relief. “Good. We need to get antibiotics and fluids into her system as soon as we can. She lost a lot of blood.”

Glenn pulled a big bottle out of his bag and handed it to Hershel. “Here. Some serious painkillers.”

Hershel nodded. “Good. I’ll mix up a cocktail for her right away,” he said.

Soon Hershel had you on an IV drip and he reached over and pressed a hand to your forehead. “Still no fever,” he said, catching Daryl’s blue eyes. “I think we’re in the clear from the virus. The amputation worked.” He patted Daryl on the shoulder kindly. “She’s strong. She’ll fight.”

Daryl gave your hand another gentle squeeze and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it and holding it there, his eyes fixed back on your face. “How long—how long before you think she should be waking up?” he asked, his voice thick and heavy with gravel.

Hershel looked back at you on the bunk. “It’s hard to say. She’s experienced significant trauma so her body may just need to be out for a while. And the painkillers I put in her IV will make her sleepy. It isn’t time to worry yet,” he said.

Daryl scoffed. “It’s been time to worry since I met her,” he growled, squeezing your hand gently.

Hershel gave him a sad smile. “It’s okay she’s still unconscious, son. Look,” he said nodding toward you again. “Some of the color is coming back to her face. That’s a good sign.”

Daryl studied the pinkness that was back in your lips and your cheeks and stroked a hand through your hair again. He nodded, clutching more tightly to your hand.

“You come get me if anything changes, alright?” Hershel said. And then he left Daryl alone with you again.

Daryl refused to eat or drink as day turned to night, refused to sleep, refused to leave your side for a second. He sat watch over you, his stomach churning with every passing minute you lay there still. He hung his head and pressed his lips to the back of your hand again, shutting his eyes. “Please, wake up, Y/N. Please. I need ya. I need ya…” he whispered to you, hoping with his entire being. And then he felt something. You had squeezed his hand back. His eyes shot up and he fell forward onto his knees beside you, the chair clattering back behind him. Your eyes were open and they met his.

Tears immediately filled his blue eyes. “Y/N!” he stroked your cheek with one hand and held more tightly to you with the other. “You’re awake. I’m—I’m right here. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He watched in disbelief as your lips curved slightly in a small smile as you looked up at him. “I know, babe,” you whispered.

“What do ya—how are ya feeling?”

You blinked a few times like you were thinking hard about the question. “I think I’m high,” you said, your brow furrowing slightly. Daryl’s eyes narrowed at your answer. “Am I on some good painkillers?” you asked.

Daryl nodded. “Ya. I’m glad they’re working.” He stroked his fingers through your hair again and watched with apprehension as you turned and looked at the bandages on your left arm. He watched a shadow grow on your face and your brow furrow. Daryl felt like a bubble that had been expanding in his chest burst suddenly. Tears poured out onto his cheeks again. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t keep ya safe. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” He hung his head again, trying to gasp in a breath.

You looked back over at him in shock. “Hey.” You squeezed his hand again when he wouldn’t look at you. “Daryl. Look at me.” You waited until he lifted his blue eyes again. “There is no way in hell that this is your fault.” He tried to look away again but you tugged on his hand. “I mean it. It just happened. You don’t get to claim any blame for it. None. Okay?” He sniffled but he held your eyes.

A few more tears leaked out of his eyes and he anxiously chewed his bottom lip. “I—I thought I was gonna lose ya,” he whispered, pressing your hand between his palms again. He looked down at it and smoothed his fingers over the soft skin on the back of your hand. “I thought—” he broke off, unable to even speak the horrible thoughts that had consumed him since you were bitten.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “You’re stuck with me.”

Daryl was amazed at the small smile on your lips again and his heart hammered like it was trying to get to you. He leaned forward, cupping your face gently, and pressed a kiss to that little smile. He rested his forehead against yours for a brief moment. You sighed and shut your eyes, breathing in his familiar smell, loving the safety of his closeness. The archer finally pulled back and righted his chair beside your bed again. “Rest,” he said softly. “I’m gonna tell Hershel you’re awake.” He got up to find him, but you squeezed his hand again and he glanced back at you.

“You have to promise me that you will try to let go of the guilt,” you said. The smile was gone and there was concern on your face. You were lying in a bed missing half your arm and you were concerned about him. How the hell did he deserve you? He was almost overwhelmed with emotion again, but he nodded.

“I promise,” he said. “I’ll try.” He leaned over you and captured your lips in another kiss. “Rest, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You released his hand and turned your eyes to the bandages again. It had all happened so fast, and none of it felt real yet. It was like you were in a dream and would wake up at any second. The implications weren’t even occurring to you yet. Daryl was in the forefront of your mind. You knew he was likely to torture himself over this, despite the fact that it could have happened to anyone. It was just a risk of living in the world now. You felt lucky that the only thing you had lost was your arm, and yet at the same time you knew you would need to grieve it. But for now, you needed to know that Daryl wouldn’t blame himself.

He returned with Hershel, who immediately smiled at you when he saw your eyes open. He came and sat at your bedside while Daryl lingered in the doorway, chewing his bottom lip as was his anxious habit. “How are you feeling? How is the pain?” Hershel asked you.

“Pain is fine,” you said. “I’m just tired.”

Hershel put a kind hand on your shoulder. “I think we’ve turned the corner,” he said. “But you’re going to need to rest and give yourself time to heal. I don’t want you up and about for another day or two. You lost a lot of blood, and we need to make sure we keep that are infection free.” You nodded.

“Where’s Rick?” you asked, glancing at Daryl in the doorway.

The familiar drawl answered. “Right here,” he said, appearing over Daryl’s shoulder. You looked up at the lean man and saw he looked completely exhausted.

Your brow furrowed. “You look like shit,” you said, causing everyone to chuckle, even Daryl. “Thanks. For what you did,” you said quietly. “For saving my life or whatever,” you said with a small smile. Your eyelids were starting to droop a little, sleep waiting to take hold.

Rick patted Daryl on the shoulder and nodded at you. “Anything for you and Daryl. Anything.”

“Alright, she needs rest now,” Hershel said, getting up and motioning for Rick to clear out with him. “Get some sleep.”

Daryl moved back to your bedside as Hershel and Rick left and sank down onto the chair, immediately taking your hand between his again.

“What are you doing over there?” you asked him. He gave you a questioning look.

“How am I supposed to sleep with you so far away?” You turned onto your side, wincing a little as you moved your injured arm, but you cleared space beside you and looked up at the archer with a look he couldn’t resist, even if he had wanted to.

He carefully climbed onto the bed beside you, moving a strand of hair out of your eyes and stroking his thumb lightly over your cheek. You were facing each other and he could see you studying his face. You smiled at him, just a small, sleepy one. “Now I can sleep,” you whispered.

He pressed a kiss to your lips and tried to put everything he was thinking and feeling into it. When he drew back, your eyes flitted open again. “We’re gonna be just fine. You always take care of me,” you murmured to him.

He nodded. “And I always will.” And with that reassurance, you drifted off to sleep with your favorite person in the world beside you.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #blame #daryl angst #daryl fluff #norman reedus #anonymous request

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ladyeliot · 3 years

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It will always be you

Prequel: Stay with me

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: The snap has happened, the return of Wakanda has not been as you all expected, but now you have to face reality, and you just can't stop thinking about him, about Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word count: 4101

A/N: Post Infinity War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

Life is a continuous struggle of choices that you have to make without stopping to think for a second. It is said that hope is the last thing to be lost, probably because the choice you made almost left you without it. You must also learn that happiness is the last thing to be found, probably because the choice you have made has made you unhappier than you will ever be. Your life has been full of choices, you might have regretted many of them, but you decided at the time to make them, so you never allowed yourself to regret your actions, until that day.

Three weeks after Thanos snapped, hope was completely lost. The new facility has been uncharacteristically silent, no one has been able to say more than two words in a row, and you had barely managed to say one since your return from Wakanda. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner and you, those were the surviving Avengers, the ones that life had given you a second chance, but it didn't really feel like one.

You were in your old room, old because two years ago one of your decisions had taken you away from that place, yes, you were against the Sokovia Accords, that had led you to take the side of the Captain and to fight against the side of Iron Man, who had been the person who had saved you from the madness that your powers had generated in your mind. But even if you had turned against him, you knew you owed him everything. Evidently this was something he didn't understand, which led to a wide rift that had never been bridged on either side, and which led to a breakdown in your relationship of closeness.

Every corner of that room had been kept exactly as you had left it that night when you fled with Wanda. Your drawings together with the charcoals scattered on the desk, the book 'In Search of Lost Time' by Marcel Proust on the bedside table and that bracelet that Tony had given you for your 26th birthday that you had left next to the open jewellery box on the bed. It was really painful to see all of this, knowing that those facilities would probably never be what they once were, that Wanda would not suddenly appear at your door, that you would never sit around the dinner table and that Tony would not occupy the armchair next to your bed to try to cheer you up after a mission that hadn't gone so well. You didn't know whether frustration was taking over the fear and sadness or whether you just didn't know how to control your feelings on that occasion.

The days were long, each of you working in silence trying to make sense of what had happened, looking for a solution that would never come to the problem. You shared the hours, but the solitude that enveloped you was too austere to realise that there was a person by your side. You didn't know Thanos' location, however, even if you did, especially if you did, it had become clear that you could not stand alone against his entire army.

"Would you like some?" asked Natasha offering you a plate with a veggie sandwich on it, which you took with an almost soundless 'thank you'.

Yes, actually that had been your first word in five days, since you said goodnight to Bruce last Sunday, food and sleep were not high on your priorities, especially when you spent the night using your telepathic detection trying to find some sign of life that would make you believe Tony was alive, but it was useless. Your psionic senses allowed you to track any sentient being, you were able to scan large areas, but your ability did not address the entire universe.

That night your spirits seemed to be running low to the ground, three weeks without having achieved anything that would allow you to have any lucidity in your plans was too long as the situation stood. You could hear in the background a soft murmur coming from a conversation between Natasha and Steve, but you weren't really paying attention to it, it was all in your thoughts. But at that instant, an inner burst made them evaporate. A signal came into your brain, a psionic emanation that alerted you to the presence of a spaceship entering the stratosphere, with a fixed direction, yours. You rose from your chair, standing upright, capturing the attention of the people around you. You closed your eyes, heightening all your senses, taking in all the information that was coming to you, at that moment you felt it. You opened your eyes and looked at them.

"He's here," were the only words you could utter before you rushed outside. Your companions soon followed your path, asking questions to explain what was happening, but your inner euphoria prevented you from saying a single word.

That ship appeared above you as you raced across the garden, night was falling relentlessly and you could only glimpse a halo of light that seemed to direct the ship as it landed delicately on the wide grassy esplanade. The five of you paused, taking in the scene, discovering how a side door opened to project a flight of stairs. When you saw his face for the first time your lungs deflated, letting out all the air they had accumulated over a long period of time. Your body went rigid and you didn't react until Steve ran past you and approached the ship to help him down.

He looked terrible, it was evident in every facial feature and in his body movements, you knew what you had been through, but you had no idea what Tony had been through since his disappearance in New York, although you could get a pretty good idea. Before your eyes were Steve and Tony in custody, reunited again, after all that had happened, none of it mattered, at least not to you, and perhaps you had a vain hope that it didn't matter to anyone else either. Even so you didn't know how to act when your eyes connected with his, for a slight moment you wanted to approach him, offer him a hug and tell him that you were relieved to discover that he was there, with you, after all, but you chose to stay where you were, next to Natasha.

It wasn't until you headed inside that the stiffness disappeared from your body. A whispered 'are you okay' from Steve made you react again and pay attention to Natasha's words that were projecting all the information gathered during those days.

"The governments are destroyed," she reported as she projected images showing the missing, like Wilson, Maximoff and Parker, among others, "the working parts are trying to do a census, and it looks like he did it. He did what he said he would do. Thanos wiped out 50% of all living things."

Silence echoed around you, you were sitting in an armchair, somewhat away from the other members, playing with your fingers, trying not to look up, until he spoke.

"Where is he now?" asked Tony. "Where?"

"We don't know," Steve informed him from beside you, sitting at a table. "He opened a portal and went through it. We looked for Thanos for three weeks, with deep space scanners," Steve looked at you, "and satellites, and we found nothing." He looked at Tony. "Tony, you fought him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Tony from his wheelchair. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the wizard gave away the store. That's what happened, there's no fight..."

You took a breath and sighed, because you could contemplate what was about to happen right now, the nerves were there along with the negativity and failure of some of the superheroes on that planet and others, and you knew it could explode at any moment.

"Tony, I'm going to need you to focus..." Steve repeated again hoping that Tony would offer him some clue as to the whereabouts of Thanos.

"I needed you," interrupted Tony in a raised tone. "as in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." He used a second of his silence to look at Steve and another second to look at you, who stood beside him. You took in most of the feelings hidden in his gaze, and none of them were positive or forgiving. "You know what I need? I need a shave," he tried to get out of the wheelchair, taking everything on the table in his stride. "I don't believe I ever remember telling you this..." he ripped out the IV that connected the drip to his left arm. "To the living and the dead, What we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not," he looked back at you and Steve repeatedly. "That's what we needed!”

The discussion continued, avoiding an upset Tony explaining everything he thought about the current and past situation, ignoring the suggestions Rhodes was giving him to calm down and take his seat again.

"[...] Bunch of tired old wheels!" he pointed at Steve. "I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar."

Almost ipso facto he turned to you ripped off the reactor prostrate on his chest and handed it to Steve in his hand, leaving those present virtually speechless, if you still had any left.

"Here, take this. You'll find him, if you put that on. You hide-"

After those words you gazed again into his eyes full of resentment at the past, before his body could take it no more and he collapsed in the middle of the room.

In the hours that followed, you were the shadow of a ghost gazing at him from a distance from the door frame of one of the recovery rooms in the new complex. On the one hand fearing his reaction against you when he woke up, while on the other hand wanting to hear it because you knew that sooner or later it would come but you wanted it to come as soon as possible so that you could face it. Those words she had said to Steve were harsh, but they were really nothing to what you expected might happen. It seemed absurd at the time to have entertained the idea that it might have been forgotten.

"Bruce gave him a sedative," Rhodes said, looking up at you, who were leaning against the doorframe. "He'll be unconscious for the rest of the day. Do you want to sit down?"

"No...I'd better..." but Rhodes didn't allow you to finish your words, as he had risen from the armchair next to Tony and offered it to you. "Thank you."

The door to the room ajar to offer you some more privacy. As you turned your gaze towards him you realised the fragility his body conveyed in those moments, he had spent weeks wandering through space not knowing if he was going to get the chance to return home again and yet he had been able to stay alive and find himself there. You closed your eyes and settled back on the couch, you remembered the first time you did that with Tony, he had spent too much time without sleep after the events after the Chitauri invasion, he could barely sleep because of the nightmares and he begged you to stop them every night, so with your eyes closed you concentrated and invaded his mind with caution releasing the tension you found in it and giving him the peace he needed. When you opened your eyes again, her expression seemed to have changed, she seemed to have found some relief inside her, that fact made you smile. But a knock on the door woke you up.

"We need to talk," Steve's words sounded serious.

A new piece of information about Thanos' whereabouts came as a surprise, but for you the surprise came right after.

"Wait, is this some kind of punishment or something?" you said completely dumbfounded, just outside the room where Tony was, with what Steve was proposing. "Why me?"

"Because we need someone to stay with Tony," he said calmly crossing his arms.

"Is it because I'm the smallest of the whole team? Because I could really knock you all out right now with the blink of an eye," you said crossing your arms too.

"It's because Tony needs you," Steve lowered his tone, "and you need him."

There was nothing but truth in those words. You didn't know if Tony really needed you, but what you had assumed was that you'd needed him for a long time, and you'd put a lot of things before that need, creating your close relationship to go to shit, basically.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you on this mission," Steve said frankly. "And he wouldn't forgive me either if I said that happened."

You lowered your face as you nodded, accepting his words and the job you had been given.

"Be very careful," you said before Steve disappeared from in front of you to take a path that you had no idea what could be in store for them.

From that moment on, the hours went by really slowly, you took your position in that armchair again, you needed to have a clear mind, you couldn't continue martyring yourself with all the events that had happened, so you started reading 'In Search of Lost Time', that book that had been forgotten on the bedside table since you left that place. News was nil, you barely got a sign of what might be happening and you knew it would probably be days before you got it.

Night was falling on the compound again, Tony was barely making any sign of waking up, which also gave you time to consider how the situation would play out, and various possibilities for coping with it. Some of his belongings had been salvaged from the ship, and his helmet, or rather what was left of it, stared at you from the dresser in the room. Without having a reason in mind you approached him, causing a blue light to suddenly flash across his eyes, showing you his figure in the middle of the room.

"Is it on?" a figure of a seated, completely haggard Tony appeared before your eyes. "Hey, Ms. Y/L/N, Y/N," your brow furrowed, but you approached his reflection. "If you find this footage don't put it on social media, it'll be really tearful," his words brought a sad smile to your face. "I don't know if you'll watch these videos. I don't even know if you're still... Oh god, I hope so..." there was a silence from his words, but you could see him bring his hands to his face, something inside you cracked. "I guess it's easier to do this if you know the chances of seeing you again are practically nil," something inside you made your heart shrink. "I probably should have realised this a lot sooner," he fell silent, "yeah, but I was busy trying not to hate you too much, you know, when you decided to abandon me and choose the other side," exhaustion almost prevented him from keeping his eyes open. "Anyway, anyway that made me realise how important you had been to me," he let his gaze wander, "I tried to be there for you ever since I met you and... god, this is getting too depressing," he ran his hand over his face. "I just want you to know that I wish you were here, because you're the only person I'd like to share my last hours with," he nodded slightly, you knew what he was trying to say with those words, which made your eyes water. "Don't feel bad about this, I mean, if you stay prostrate for a couple of weeks... and then move on with immense guilt..." he hid his face in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, you wiped away a tear that ran down your cheek keeping the bitter smile you had been wearing all along. "I want you to know... when I've fallen asleep, it will be like the nights we spent together. I'm fine. All right," he gestured towards you. "I'll dream of you. Because it will always be you."

Suddenly, as if nothing had happened, his image disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving you with hundreds of feelings invading your body and mind. You looked up and there he was, still there, sleeping pleasantly, barely knowing what had just happened. You hurriedly wiped away the last tear running down your cheek and sat back down, putting your feet up on the couch, unable to take your eyes off him. Perhaps those thoughts were drawn from his most desperate moments, believing that his life was about to come to an end, perhaps he was unwilling to show them to you now that he had resumed the course of his life, so even though it was not possible you tried to send them to a hidden place in your mind.

You had hardly slept in those three weeks, your mind hadn't rested for days and you didn't know why, but finding yourself curled up in that armchair next to Tony was giving you back the tranquillity your body hadn't known for too long. It was impossible to stop your eyelids from closing, on the contrary you were willing them to do so and for sleep to warmly invade your body, no matter how long you could stay asleep. That's how it happened, making the hours pass without you even noticing.

Like a little gust of wind, something in your body made the light enter through your eyelashes. Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling in various parts of your body a tightness due to the position in which you had fallen asleep in that armchair. You discovered that a woollen blanket covered your limbs, but what kept you alert was the bed next to you was completely empty. Tony wasn't there. You jumped up, looking around, the bedroom door was ajar and Iron Man's helmet was missing.

"Tony?" you asked, raising your voice, stepping out into the hallway. "Tony! Where are you?"

You barely heard an answer, so you were thankful those powers were within you, you stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed your eyes, your receptors picked up a signal coming from downstairs, it was him. You found him leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he tried to stand. You ran to him, grabbing his arm to hold him up.

"What do you think you're doing?" you said, leading him to the nearest armchair in the living room.

You discovered that he had shaved, taken a shower and was wearing one of his Tom Ford suits that were so recognisable to you. That meant he had been wandering around the house unsupervised for over an hour without waking you up. You knelt down next to him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked with a worried look on your face as you contemplated that he was extremely tired. "Bruce gave a set of instructions for you to follow, you can't just walk around..."

"It was your turn?" he cut you off with an angry tone. "Be my babysitter? How did you do it? Did you draw lots?" his countenance was serious, you could still see the puffiness in his eyes and his face fully dehydrated. "Whoever draws the shortest stick gets to look after poor Stark, all right, listen..."

"No! You listen to me," you cut him off, raising your tone above his, standing up and resting your hands on each armrest "Tony, we all lost. We all fought and lost, none of us made it," your face was three feet above his. "So now all we can do is try, in some completely illogical way, to move the situation forward. And if we can't, at least look to the future by doing our best to honour those we have lost."

Silence flooded over you.

"So please don't make the situation more complicated," you continued, lowering your tone, almost begging him. "If I've stayed with you it's because Steve has made me understand some things, because yes, it wasn't really my intention to stay with you from the start, but then I realised that if anyone had to stay with you it was me. I realised that if I had to risk my life again I didn't want to go on the mission, because that would mean never seeing you again.And I've also realised that I've needed you for a long time, that I'm finally by your side and I have no intention of separating from you. Whether you like it or not." Tony cut his gaze with yours by ducking it, but brought his right hand over yours.

That gesture provoked you to bring your other hand to his face, placing a gentle caress on his cheek.

"I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but one thing we do have is time," you explained as Tony intertwined his fingers with yours. "So please, don't do anything more stupid and don't disappear," maybe it was the atmosphere generated by the situation, but you risked saying the next words. "Because it will always be you."

Tony closed his eyes a little regretfully, a little embarrassedly, and brought his free hand to his face.

"I knew you saw that," he added calmly removing his hand from his face. "Well, at least I've saved myself from having to repeat it in person."

"I'm not sure I got it right," you said falsely. "You know, there was a lot of interference, and besides, I couldn't really understand what you were saying, so..."

"Sorry, there was only one pass for the film," he said wryly which caused you to smile widely as you rediscovered that the old Tony was still hidden in it. "We won't know when there will be a revival."

"Too bad, I really liked that movie," you sat down on the armrest without letting go of his hand and looking up at him.

"Really?" he asked for the first time modestly, and putting aside all the irony that surrounded the situation.

"Totally," you nodded, trying to express all the many feelings through your eyes.

Silence again kept you company, until Tony somewhat uncomfortably broke it.

"I suppose you know that by now I would have kissed you and created a fully effective plan to make love to you for hours until you begged me to stop in pleasure," he stated lamely, "although I think if you give me a couple of hours..."

"All right, Don Juan," you cut him off with a chuckle, "we'd better leave all that for later, and I'll take you back to bed now."

"I think it's a good start if you take me to bed," he continued with his insinuations.

You got up from the armrest and helped him put his arm around your shoulders, even though he repeatedly told you he could walk unaided.

"Have we heard from the team?" he asked, slowly climbing the steps of the ladder.

"Soon," you said with a halo of hope.

You definitely made it back to the room, having made it successfully through the journey. You helped him get rid of the shoes and shirt that his pride had forced him to wear, but which now made no sense when he was going back to bed.

"See, you're finally going to get what you wanted, I'm undressing you," you said jokingly causing a smile to appear on Tony's face as he lay back down. "You rest, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

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