#and then while she was looking at him as he dangled... i fear she recognised someone in his face 💀

[bravest]

thinking about the way that lingering after her leap of faith , kneeling with her hand outstretched for mono , was more of a reflexive impulse than a conscious choice . dimly six had recognised that she needed to catch her friend and help him , the way she had countless times before this . he'd jumped , and her hand had curled tightly around his . starved fingers snug and secure around his .

her heart was pounding so hard , it seemed to be physically hurting her chest . there was a dull ache burning there anyway - one that was burning more powerfully with every passing second . six's breaths were leaving her in short , sharp pants as she kneeled at the edge of this tremendous drop , gazing at the ground , unable to meet mono's gaze for a tremulous minute .

her music box . her recollection is hazy , the memories are not entirely clear . but she remembers the way mono brought down the hammer on it so brutally . the way it's comforting tune warbled brokenly , and finally stopped short altogether as the metal buckled under his weapon's impact .

every strike against it had wracked her with agony . unbeknownst to her , it had broken a beautiful spell ... a gentle trance that had finally pulled her out of this wretched world and allowed her to know comfort again , however false it might have been .

it could have been so perfect . he could have stayed with her . she wanted him to hear the gentle chimes too . there's another memory of moving closer to him when he arrived , joy surging through her at the familiar call of his voice . a recollection of showing him her treasured silver trinket , trusting him . they could have been safe there . they could have been happy . why did he ruin it ?

how could he smash it to pieces even as she had screamed for him to stop it !

her grasp had inadvertently loosened and her expression had contorted with hatred as she stewed on all that had unfolded . the little cry that mono let out shook her from the miserable flashback , and she musters the will to meet his eye at long last .

he has the audacity to look hopeful , beneath his anxiety . then - to look progressively confused . like he doesn't know what he did to her . blood boiling , eyes frenzied , a lump in her throat rapidly forming , she'd let her gaze bore into him .

his voice sounds faraway as he scrapes out a shaky plea . his fingernails are cutting stark red crescents into her hand as he desperately clutches her . it hurts . he hurts .

he's always been the one that hurts . there's no more bag to hide behind , and ... he looks just like ... !

revulsion . hate . terror . betrayal . heartbreak . the movement had to be swift and decisive - a girl hell bent on surviving this , on putting as much distance between herself and this boy as possible . she wrenched her hand free from his grip , shook him off . let him plummet .

then she rose to her feet , ignoring his deafening scream .

six dusted herself off , took a shaky breath as she turned on her heel . and she left him to his fate . didn't so much as glance back . hot , angry , miserable tears pricked at her eyes . she blinked them away .

#mono knew he was helping... but six thought he was hurting #she thought he spoiled something that she was never going to have in her hold again #something that she wanted to /share/ with him #she didn't know she was twisted and contorted... she didn't know she was a monster #the music box kept the pain of how badly she was mangled dampened- and it made her feel comforted #it was sheer escapism in a trinket... and mono breaking it forced her to feel the agony of being a monster #and she didn't /understand/ #and then while she was looking at him as he dangled... i fear she recognised someone in his face 💀 #this isn't perfect but oh my godddd #SEE!! i love her TOO!! #hers is LONGER!! she's the more complex one to ME!! #she doesn't have tags yet but let's ignore that... #look how the canary has flown it's cage . / six headcanons

[aryxchse]

hello!

i see ur requests are open so i have one (potentially) if ur willing to write it!!

yk how we get some glimpses into a dark percy jackson in the HoO series when he’s protecting annabeth… what if we got some of that for jason grace? potentially like the reader, she’s threatened by a minor god or monster or anything, so jason kinda goes unhinged? maybe like, he takes the air out of the opposing party’s lungs or anything else kinda unhinged?

i hope any of this makes sense lol thank uuuuu

🫶🫶🫶

dangerous storms / jason grace x female! reader.

a / n : I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING BECAUSE WHY THIS MAN HASN'T BEND SOMEONES OXYGEN ALREADY???

warnings : jason grace's angry self, airbending type of shit, cursing, DANGEROUS JASON I REPEAT DANGEROUS JASON!!

jason grace was a calm man.

he was rational, he would think before he act and he never made a move with his feelings. call it him being roman, or his father being literally the king of the gods, or maybe him growing up with a wolf raising him. jason grace was always the type to show his powers through strategic thinking.

well, everyone has boundries right?

he had a thin line in between destroying one thing or everything when it camed to you. if you're fine, then no one has to fear for anything. if you're okay, safe and healthy, no one has to panic.

but if it's the other way, than everyone should pray. even the non-believers. because jason grace can be scary and intimidating when he wants to. and he's so damn good at it.

things weren't supposed to go this way. you weren't supposed to get kidnapped by some giant. the plan wasn't this way, then why, why we're you in danger?

jason stopped being rational. his brain only said 'why, why, why' for like, an hour now. jason wasn't thinking straight. jason wasn't thinking.

"jason, we're gonna save her," piper tried to charmspeak him, but it didn't worked. the girl who put gaia back in sleep, couldn't calm down the son of jupiter.

percy jackson, who was feared by most monsters, demigods and even gods, was afraid how jason acted at the moment. but he didn't judged, he knew he would act the exact same way if something happened to annabeth. which, he did.

he was the only one who would go down with him if he asked. boundries we're boundries, and percy knew that very well.

"jason, we can make a plan." piper tried again. she was trying from the moment they got you. but it wasn't working and she started to get anxious.

"yeah, man. she's strong, she could be on her way back here even-" leo tried his best too. he couldn't recognise his best friend right now. he should've been like percy, who wasn't judging jason's madness and ready to go down with him. but he couldn't—it was like leo meeting jason for the first time, again.

"i already have a fucking plan." jason snapped, but he was quiet. which, it didn't help with the gang's fear. "and you guys are not involved."

"you sure?" percy asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "my hands been itchy these days, and riptide is no better."

jason wanted to smile, but his situation didn't allowed. instead, he softened his gaze, just a bit. "thanks, but i'll handle it myself. it's my war now."

percy nodded, giving a look at the team. 'if someone wants to stop him, they have to go through me.'

"go get em', tiger." he joked. and jason flied away, not answering.

‎ ⚡️

you would fight for your life if you weren't hanging up by the chains on your wrists. your feet we're dangling in the air, and arms hurting from carrying all your weight. the sick giants put some fancy greek dress on you, making your hair prettier while you were unconscious.

the giant fucking fell in love with you, and it certainly did not liked jason.

jason. we're was he? what happened to him?

well, you we're about to find out.

"oh dear," the ugly beast purred, his big hands finding your tiny body. you disgusted, squirming under his touch to get away. but it was no use.

"you'll be all mine once i make the potion." he rambled, drool on his chin that showed you how hungry he was for you.

"in your fucking dreams." you spat, eyes shooting daggers. you we're jason's girl, and your own person, most importantly. "i'm already taken."

the giant growled, mixing the sound with his sick laugh. "that jupiter boy? he got nothing compared to me sweetheart!" he yelled and his voice echoed through the big cave. where we're you, even? "he has to kill me to get you!"

"be careful what you wish for." the sound made you melt instantly. how was he able to find you? well, you didn't cared to be honest. he was here.

jason's eyes we're nothing like before. it was like his own eyes had their storms and thunders. one part of you we're amazed, while the other got scared. you knew he wouldn't even touch you if it ever hurt you, but you we're scared for him. not from him. for him doing something he'll regret for the rest of his life in order to protect you.

but, jason seemed to not give a damn.

"you tiny little demigod! you have no chance against me, you don't even have a god next to you to kill me!" he yelled, leaving you dangling in the air again. you wanted to call jason's name, but your voice muffled through the lightning.

"i don't fucking need a god," jason hissed, taking position. "i'll send you tartarus myself."

it all happened quickly. jason was so fast, unlike the big giant trying to capture and kill him. he was like a lightning himself, moving in light speed. there was a blonde thing moving, and you couldn't understand if it was his hair or sword. also there was little lightning sparkles that helped you figure him better.

then, the next thing you knew, jason was on top of the beast's face. he quickly called a lightning before stabbing his sword into the giants eye. it growled, but didn't falled.

"this is what you take for hurting my girl. my loved ones." jason said, his free hand going up in the air. you thought he was gonna make the giant eat some lightning, but it didn't go that way.

"remember my name in tartarus," he flied up again, taking a large air with him. the beast suddenly started to choke, holding it's neck desperately. "and make sure your friends does too."

it was the last thing giant heard before falling down, his oxygen flying in the air and dissapearing. jason immediatly flied towards you, cutting your chainst and holding you by the waist before you fall.

"jason," you breathed out, crying. you couldn't believe what you just have witnesses, but you figured it was the best to not mention. you we're happy that you we're safe now, in his arms.

"baby," he panted, hugging you so tight. you guys slowly landed on the ground, jason still clinging on you. "thank gods you're alive."

"i got scared," you admitted. normally, you would rather die than admit someone you're scare. but it was your jason, who could you tell if you're not gonna tell him? "he was gonna- jason, he was gonna make me one of them."

"shh baby it's okay," he cupped your face, his own tears matching you. but he had a smile, a smile that appeared once you we're in his arms. "i'm here. no one's touching you ever again okay? i'm here." he gently wiped your tears away, kissing you after.

you relaxed the moment your lips met, but it wasn't very long until you both heard footsteps again. jason quickly picked you up in bridal style, flying away from the little crack of the cave.

later that day, you both layed together in his quarters at argo ii. everyone decided that they shouldn't ask questions, like they didn't asked percy and annabeth after they got back from the tartarus.

even coach hedge let you snuggle eachother, because he saw how hurt jason was. he needed you for his own sake, to stay sane.

jason was the child of storm after all, he knew how to be scary when he wanted to. he kept it all inside when you we're near and safe. but if something slightly happened to you, he knew how to show them real power.

#DARK JASON MY LOVE #stop making him like he's some weak airbender rick #HES THE CHILD OF ZEUS FOR GODS SAKE #KING OF THE GODS HELLO #percy jackson #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace headcanon #jason grace imagine #jason grace pjo #jason grace #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine

[elinor-taylor]

The Hollows

Inside the cavernous body of a dead tree troll, keepers of the green ways privately thrived. Some among them watched through a rotted knot as the biggun tramped the blackened ground outside. He was no threat. They didn't fear this lumbering, steel-suited oaf, but still, they monitored his whereabouts. With so few of them left, they could ill afford to be complacent about wanderers in their midst.

When the man was gone, a calm returned to the hollow. Until a short while later, when a contingent of gate watchers arrived just as the babies were being put to bed, and the olders were settling down for an evening with their dearest, and fairies of all ages poked their heads out of hidey holes and fluttered themselves upward and closer to get a better look.

For gate watchers to return early was highly irregular. It sent a flurry of interest throughout the timber confines of the structure, from roots to rings. Only the tiny ones slept through, unaware of the excitement, not yet old enough to recognise an anomaly when they saw one.

The gate watchers flew in, single file, via the upper broken branch entrance of the trunk. Most hung back, allowing the head of their small group, an experienced volunteer called Broadleaf, to proceed.

'Where's Cerulean?' she said to anyone who might answer, looking from her mid-height position around the lamplit interior of the tree troll fort. 'I have to speak with her.'

'Out on her walking meditation,' one villager said. 'Shouldn't be gone much longer.'

'She told us she'd be back for supper,' another chimed in.

'Here.' Hoff Skylark emerged from his tent with a stack of wooden bowls and spoons. 'Help yourselves to stew. You lot must be starved. Warm yourselves.'

The other gate watchers turned to Broadleaf for confirmation, which she gave with a look, and they all lowered themselves to where Hoff - or Pappy Skylark as he was more commonly known - handed each of them a bowl. He directed them toward Miss Milda, the self-appointed cook and jolly old dear, who stirred a large cauldron as it bubbled gently over an oil stove nearby.

'Where's the gate sitting lately, my friend?' Pappy said, sitting carefully back on his hammock, as Broadleaf returned from the cauldron, bowl in hand. 'You ladies had far to travel this time?'

'Near the southern border,' Broadleaf said. She blew on a spoonful of stew and took a tentative slurp. 'Hey, this is really good.'

'Milda's finest.' His smile was fleeting. 'South, you say? Air's gotta be mighty thick with smoke down there. Never mind gates. You watchers wanna watch yourselves, ya know. No good to us coughing up ribs.'

Perched on a ledge above, legs dangling, the more junior gate watchers were getting rowdy amongst themselves, bickering and howling with laughter at whispered jokes, emboldened from being home before the planned switchover, and with bellies full of warm, delicious food. Broadleaf scooped up a palm of gravel and hurled it toward the unruly fairies, which shut them up, if only momentarily.

'Seen worse,' she said, returning to her conversation with the older Pappy. 'Stacks kick out a hell of a stink, though. Few thousand spotted heifers away and still coats the back of your throat like goddam roof tar.'

'No sign of a let-up?' Pappy said.

'Wish I could tell you different.' Broadleaf looked at the life going on around her, the community, the society that refused to collapse in the face of such overwhelm. 'Still churning as always. If there's one thing can be said about those biggun city engineers, it's that they built a place to last.'

Broadleaf knew what was coming next, a question she'd come to dread, but one she knew Pappy Skylark couldn't help himself but ask. She didn't blame him. It was heartbreaking, was all.

'And any sign of my girls?'

'Not this time, Sir. We'll keep looking, though. You have my word.' She briefly considered breaking her own personal protocol, putting her hand on his, by way of reassurance. But the moment passed.

Pappy sighed the sigh of an old man not quite ready to quit but sensing it on the horizon. He pushed himself forward out of the creaking hammock. And with a stretch and a yawn and a, 'Righty-ho, then,' he took himself off to bed.

Broadleaf leaned back against the spongy inner of the trunk wall. This place wouldn't last forever, not when the termites took to feasting, but it was a safe enough haven for now. Tomorrow's worries were for her tomorrow self to be worrying about.

This tree, she thought. This beautiful, wise old tree. At one time it had been a troll known to her as Oskar, before he turned from flesh to oak, then lost what what left of himself in the burnings. She stroked the inside of the great supporting outer shell with a kindly hand. There was warmth there, still. And a deep and lasting sorrow. Even in their passing, the trolls of these woods were a gift to the folks of Faretheewell, protecting them to the last with their lifeless bodies.

'I'm sorry, my love,' she spoke quietly to the wall. 'Know we are grateful to you, always.'

With the woodland outside cooling from the oncoming night, and the inside hollow warming from lamplight and a host of small crackling fires, the tree trunk shell creaked and groaned, shrinking in places and swelling in others, settling into itself.

Broadleaf chose to believe these shifting sounds were Oskar making himself heard. That he was saying in his own sweet way, 'You're welcome, little one.' And she knew she would never not miss him.

#amwriting #dark fairytale #fiction #writerblr #midjourney #fantasy #storytime #Part 2.2

[jotunkhiicha]

I got bored while playing Detroit: Become Human.

Fran, Why Are You So Afraid of Love?

She would attest that she, in fact, is not afraid of love, but when it looks like this, blood and tears, how could she not?

How could she not fear the beast she’d let into her heart that tore down everything she’d ever known, leaving her with the tattered remnants of lost memories? How could she not fear the sudden awakening of truth in her heart, the deafening knell of reality as it comes crashing down towards her? How could she not fear the totality of separation and the agony of moving on—alone?

The world won’t wait for her to recover, nor will it wait for her to realise what she has lost or left to regain.

So, as she stands on this rooftop, her beretta pointed ahead, aiming where her tears were born from and her toxic hatred, she finds there to be no peace as the question rises again.

“Fran, why are you so afraid of love?” He asks her once and again.

She had said before that she saw no point in it. She only saw the pain after, that gaping black hole that infests the mind and sucks away the light of the world. She was mortified of moving on, of being the one constant in the litany of failures of her life—she feared being forced to realise her pain.

But, now, she has an answer.

Raising her head and showing her bloodshot eyes, red with fresh tears. “Because it feels like this.” She whispers into the snowy night.

The pair of them, they stand in opposite ends of this roof and at opposite ends of the world. In some way, that comforts her; she recognises they are simply not the same people anymore. They have met their end at the end of the sunset, the very same one where she realised that the world has never been fair.

It dangles everything before her, and only when she reaches for it does it fade away into dusk—losing a piece of herself with it each time it deviates from its trajectory between her fingertips.

“Is that why you’re going to shoot me?” He asks flatly, clearly not fazed by her presence in the slightest, even as she steps forwards with her gun leading the waltz.

Fran smiles as her tears fall, smiling in the face of the reaper and the one thing that has destroyed her life in its rawest form. “I’ve given it some thought. You deserve it because I know I can’t make you live and regret what you’ve done to the people I love.” She seethes and it drips with self-loathing.

Her words hang upon the words the viper whispered to her. Her eyes twinkle with something akin to a desire for death—a longing for the plastic rendition of finality to come take her away. She wishes to be taken by the ravens and left in their murderous embrace, sheathed in their feathers and left to infest the world with her bitter melancholy.

Connor tilts his head. “What is it you really want to say, Detective? Why did you come here to die?”

Fran laughs bitterly and shrugs. “I don’t fucking know anymore, Connor. I don’t know what I want to say to you. I hate you. I wish you’d have fucking died instead of Hank—but you’re a fucking machine, you can’t die! You can’t fucking die for what you’ve done to me! I can’t bring him back! I can’t get my life back!” She screams into the night, and the snow feels like tiny little angels, each one that rests on her shoulders are like feathers that will come together to fly her away, “And the worst thing?” She chuckles darkly as she looks up to the polluted sky and bites her lower lip.

A flicker of red exists on the cusp of her vision like a long lost ember in the night—a tiny whisper that begs to be heard.

She turns her head to glance at him and the pieces of her life fall from her grasp. “I don’t know how we ended up here.” She mutters with a sorrowful look that dips her toes into regret, that molten magma.

And perhaps, as she goes to shoot him and he is simply faster, this is why she is so afraid of love.

“Fran, why are you so afraid of love?” He asks as he cradles her, allows her blood to intermix with his own.

She smiles as she closes her eyes. “…because it feels like this.”

#writing #detroit become human #short story #why am i like this #oc #Spotify

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii !!! if you are accepting requests at the moment, can i ask something about reader and tom expecting a baby, one day while he’s drunk she sees him flirting with another women and when she confronts him he snaps at her and tells her he’s not ready for this “shit”. So they broke up and broke contact for months, until he shows in her apartment regretting his words and they talk but she suddenly at that moment gets into labor?!? I remember seeing a concept similar in a movie but I would love if you couldn’t bring it to life! Thank you so much in advance, appreciate your work a lot 🧸🤎

right so I loved this so much it has become a multiple parter and im not even going to apologise. so thanku so so much anon for getting me out a little rut!!!

summary: when toms caught out all hope looks lost - probs part 1 of 3 but it could get a bit longer too lol

warnings: serious angst, reference to abortion, cheating, a whole lot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry)

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

“Hi babe, just to let you know Yamna’s invited me out for dinner this evening so don’t worry if you get home early and im not back! I love you x”

It was a spur of the moment plan, which was a rarity recently. The past 5 months since you’d found out, you could name barely 5 occasions you’d been out past 8 oclock- trading your heels for fuzzy slippers and dresses for massively oversized tops and joggers. It wasn’t how you had expected to be spending the summer before your 25th birthday but it was now your life. The rooftop bars, the wild nights, the get aways had all sort of been cancelled for… for the rest of your life.

Because an 8 month pregnant belly isn’t something you can ignore.

Sure…. it wasn’t the plan. Not the plan to be pregnant with your boyfriend of only 6 months, who at the time you didn’t even live with. But you were making it work. And now, you were just excited. It was the start of a new story with Tom, and you’d got past the phase of being sad and mourning your youth. Because the little bubba inside of you, she was pretty awesome and you really couldn’t wait to meet her.

So yes, you had been home alone eating ice cream from a tub when Yamna knocked on the door. She’d been one of your best mates for as long as you could remember so when she’d turned up unannounced with mascara smeared under her eyes you’d cancelled your plans of a pathetic alone evening. Her boss had just given her the sack - which was no surprise. He was a backwards tory old git who couldn’t handle the fact Yamna was a woman doing the job better than he could ever dream of.

So yes, you’d suggested going out to the fancy new bar down the road - to celebrate the fact she no longer had to put up with the arsehole. Obviously you couldn’t drink and neither did Yamna, but you go to a bar for the atmosphere - and the selection of mocktails they had was insane.

Your boyfriend Tom was already out, he said he had a meeting and then dinner with some execs he needed to shmoosh. Of course you didn’t mind, but he had been working a lot recently, in order to be able to have the time off when your baby girl arrives.

So after sending a little text and giving Yamna another hug to try and turn the evening from disappointment to celebration you walked out the door with a smile on your face. Maybe you could pretend, just for an evening to not be pregnant and whale-like?

///////////////////////////

The bar was just a 10 minute walk so it wasn’t long before the two of you were soaking up the atmosphere. It was all decorated in a rustic fashion, with old exposed wood and dangling lightbulbs from the ceiling and the drinks were incredible. The type that have dry ice or flames or some other sort of fantastical display of edible decorations. Even Yamna had perked up, especially when a guy from the table across had bought you both a round of drinks.

“I’m just gonna pop to the loo.”

“Do you really need the toilet or do you just want to parade infornt of the fit rich man who keeps looking at you?”

“ Is both an option?” You laughed as Yamna slipped off her stool, winking rather dramatically as she did so. She was unbelievable - but at least this way she wasn’t thinking about her work, or lack thereof, anymore.

Happily you sat scrolling though your phone, seeing that tom had messaged you with an okay, before flicking through instagram.

And that was where the happiness ended.

For in a hurried manner, with a face looking a lot more ghosted than when she left, Yamna took her seat again.

“Are you okay?” Immediately your worry took over, the way she was biting her lip and not meeting your eyes not helping.

“I um yeh-yeh. Just I think I saw Tom.”

“Tom as in my Tom?” Her almost guilty looking nod had your scrunching your eyebrows, why was it such a big deal Tom was inside?

“He didn’t see me I don’t think but er… he just looked pretty close to a girl and I-“

To be honest you stopped listening at that point, heart dropping out the bottom of your chest. Because it made sense, he had been so distant recently and even if you’d been lying to yourself that it were work - this seemed much more likely. Whilst nodding along, pretending to listen to Yamna, instead your attention was solely focused on fiddling with the promise ring he’d got you after the two of you decided to keep the baby. He’d been so committed, so ready for this unexpected news. He’d said he was in for the long haul.

“Y/n?”

“sorry I um… it’s probably just a work colleague he needs to sweet talk. I’ll um-I’ll just go say hello.”

“I’m coming with you.” She spoke astutely, very much forcing herself into the situation.

“No no I’ll… I’ll come back if I need you, just wait here.”

Her face was so grim and destitute, as much as you were pretending it was okay - you knew it wasn’t. Before Yamna could protest further, you slipped off your seat ( clumsily thanks to the elephant belly) and walked with fake confidence back inside.

It took you barely 3 seconds to hone in on Tom, call it mothers intuition. He was on a booth in the corner with 5 others on his table but none of whom you recognised. It was 2 other guys and 3 girls - the six all paired off in mathcingly initimate conversations. Apart from that you payed almost zero attention to the others, attention solely focused on your boyfriend and the girl he had his arm round.

She was everything you weren’t. She was skinny - you, as previously mentioned, looked like you had a beachball stuffed under your top. She was blonde with sleek and perfectly styled waves at the tips of her long her - yours was thrown into a messy bun due to the last minute plans.

Most importantly - right now she was wrapped in Toms arms, whilst you stood alone watching.

God knows what came over you, but with confidence you never normally had you marched up to the table, just waiting at the end. One of the men you didn’t recognised, arrogantly asked you ‘can I help you’ - but you completely disregarded it, eyes solely fixed on Tom. He took a moment more to look away from the leggy girl, but as soon as he did his eyes grew massively wide.

“Y/n I-I-“

“Fancy bumping into you, I thought you were out with work executives?” Frantically casting his gaze across the table, you could see the cogs whirring to try and come up with an explanation.

“No I-I was but then Charlie here came over, we used to be mates at school and-“

“Oh fuck off Tom., I cant deal with this right now.”

You didn’t even have the energy to listen to his clearly fake excuses as to why he’d landed himself in that situation. You also certainly did not have it in you to maintain the strong face, you could feel everything shattering inside of you.

Because it was so blindingly obvious by how he had acted. You’d caught him out and you both knew it.

And it fucking hurt like hell.

So you exited the bar as fast as physically possible, hearing the shouts of both Yamna and Tom behind you. You didn’t know what you needed in that moment - except that neither of them were the answer. Tom though, presumably the faster of the two, managed to catch up - grabbing your arm to make you halt in the road.

There was this moment between the two of you that time almost seemed to freeze. The two of you, in an otherwise pretty empty residential street, at 9:30 at night, in a moment that you would never have again. From your point of view, you saw the slightly bloodshot and bleary eyes, widened with panic and fear. For Tom he saw the floods of tears down your cheeks, which you hadn’t even noticed were freely streaming.

But in that moment there was, at least, the slightest bit of peace. The slightest bit of hope - that he could explain, that he had some ludicrous but valid reason for the situation you had walked in on. Just a smidgen of hope that this were recoverable.

But then he had to open his bloody mouth.

“Y/n I swear nothing-“

“That didn’t look like fucking nothing!”

“It was I swear! We just-“

“Tom this is your one and only chance. I don’t care if your off your face, if you don’t give my a miracle of a reason as to what the fuck THAT was - then I’m gone.”

“Don’t say that Y/n, you don’t mean th-“ He tried to grab your hand which you snatched away, like you had just scalded it on a hot plate. Like he had hurt you.

“I swear to god I’ve never meant anything more. So cut the shit.”

“FIne-fine! Um so we were at the meeting and then on the way out I bumped into George and hes been a good mate of mine for years.” All you did was hum, arms crossed and making sure you had a metre of distance between the two of you.

“So he said god you look like you need a drink and I agreed because its been stressful as hell recently.”

“Oh its been stressful; for YOU has it? I’m so sorry Thomas, has it been hard for you while i’ve been throwing my lungs up with morning sickness? Has it been stressful that I’ve been running on zero hours sleep because she kicks me all bloody night? ” Your words were laced in a posioned sarcasm, to which Tom just stammered to.

“Please just let me.” Given he was supposed to be fighting for you, he sounded pretty darn defeated already.

“I said yes to the drink.” He skipped out the bit that had angered you, to which you rolled your eyes at. “And one turned into two and more and then I don’t know-“

“Your going to have to try a lot harder than that.” You deadpanned, taking a small step further back still.

“I mean it! The girls were all his friends and we were just talking.”

“Just talking? All pressed up and arms round her?”

“Yes!” As indignant as he retorted, it didn’t not make up for what you had seen with your own eyes.

“Your such a bullshitter Tom!”

“God why wont you just listen to me?” He cried, wobbly doing a little 360 on the spot, in what appeared to be exasperation.

“Because your just spouting fucking lies! And you try and blame it all on poor little tommo being stressed which is-“

“I HAVE BEEN! Running round after you! I’m just tired of this shit!!! So kill me, for having one night of freedom!”

Tom was too deep in his angry lecture to take any notice of you. Which is why, once finished, he waitied, breath heavy and nose flaring. He was waiting for you to scream back at him. To give it back. He was too drunk to notice the change in your demeanor.

“I’m tired of this shit.”

It was just reverberating round your head. Again and again and again. He was tired of your relationship and you hadn’t even become parents yet. He was at his wits-end and the baby was still unborn. What the fuck was going to happen when baby arrived? Clearly there was no hope. It was dead. Your relationship was dead with no chance of revival.

Because he’d said it. Your relationship was shit, and nobody can put up with something they hate for that long. Not 18 years. Not while bringing up a child.

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

?to be continued?

~~~~~~~~~~gahhhh I hope u enjoyed! I also REALLY CANNOT THINK OF A NAME FOR THIS MINISERIES --> if anyone can think of something pls inbox me!!! ~~~~~~~~

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol

#tom x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom holland one shot #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #angsty #pregnant!reader

[saabbi]

Regret part 2

A place you cannot return to

Genshin Impact Adeptus!reader AU 

[previous] [next], [request to be in taglist]

Warnings: [not well written], angst, grammatical errors

Summary: You and Zhongli return to Liyue Harbour after your unexpected reunion on the battle, in which you realise you do not belong.

Notes: Another shitty chapter? Yes. I like angst, but this part does not feel very angsty. Anyway, a slight glimpse of the reader’s (cliche) past; Xiao and Ganyu’s reactions in the next chapter. Sorry I’m taking a long time for these short parts, I don’t know how to organise them. Also posted on ao3.

“Ganyu, Xiao, Zhongli...” you sobbed, clutching a flower necklace tightly in your hands, the very necklace which Zhongli, Ganyu and Xiao had chosen for you on your birthday. “It’s a glaze lily, as precious as you are, my child.” You remembered Zhongli stroking your head endearly as he wrapped the exquisitely made necklace around your neck. You remembered the warm and bubbly feeling when you celebrated your birthday with the three of your family. Your short reminisce was brought back to reality as your back hits the cold and rigid wall of your cell. You trembled in fear, not knowing what will happen to you.

You missed caressing Ganyu’s little horns, playing with Xiao’s beloved mask which Zhongli gifted him, and your dad’s safe and warm embrace, shielding you from all the dangers. But you have nothing in your cold and empty cell, except your own knees to hug and cry on. Whimpers and sobs leaving your lips, eyes puffy and vision blurred from the spilling tears. It was cold and lonely, and you felt sick from crying out the whole day, dehydrated and throat hoarse from all the sobbing.

The Tsarista had left you all alone ever since she took you away from Liyue, you had not seen anyone, even the guards who you know are just outside and guarding your cell. For the first week or so, you suffered from complete solitude, crying yourself to sleep on the rock hard floor while clutching your own figure tightly for warmth. The second week or so, you felt drained and exhausted, you didn’t cry anymore, as you realised crying wouldn’t help you. It was no longer about Zhongli’s abandonment that haunted you, but the solitude. It was terrifying, not having anyone to talk to, left all alone in the depressing darkness. You couldn’t even see the guards, as only a tray of food is delivered to you through the food slot which only opens during meal time. You swore you that you were going insane, you could almost hear Ganyu’s voice calling out to you, but whenever you looked around, no one was there. The only solace you found in your empty cell was the necklace you had, the thing the is keeping your sanity together, barely holding you together as you recall the treasured moments you shared with your family. And so three weeks went by, when you were finally freed from the sickening solitude.

You ears perked up and head shot up immediately as you hear the doors which connects to the corridor of the cell rooms opened, with you knowing that it’s not meal time yet. You saw a tall, mesmerising figure standing outside your cell, eyeing your trembling small body, you remember her, the one who took you to Snezhnayan.

Seeing your disheveled form and desperation in your eyes, her lips curled up into an eerie smile, “You’re ready to leave.”

The ominous feeling rose rapidly as you followed closely behind the Tsarista, your intuition telling you not to go, the alerts in your body going off. But where could you go? Where would you run? You had no choice, and at this point, anything was better than the complete solitude. You were desperate, exactly what the Tsarista wants.

Zhongli awkwardly retracted the hand he offered upon hearing you response, guilt crashing down like waves onto him. How foolish and shameless he was, to believe that the shattered relationship between you two would be repaired by a few words. It was only natural for you to reject it. The child who once called him “dad” with nothing but love and affection in it was killed by his very own hands.

His moment of weakness when he couldn’t hold in all the erupting emotions thickened the tension between you and him. He missed you, he truly did, after all, you are his beloved child. But who was he now to tell you that he misses your presence, after he cruelly casted you away? Even if he did apologise, the irreversible decisions he had made would not be changed, time cannot be turned back.

On the way returning to Liyue Harbour, the atmosphere was awkward, almost entirely silent with the both of you unsure of what to talk about. There was almost no exchange between the two of you except him offering you some refreshments he had on him.

As you stepped into Liyue Harbour, your hometown which you have not once returned to after millenniums, you were slightly surprised at the change. The buildings were majestically built with fanciness, the streets were still lively even amongst the outbreak of war. It had changed so much, that you did not feel familiar to it, you feel as if you stepped into somewhere unknown.

Before you parted ways with Zhongli to head to Northland Bank and meet up with Childe, Zhongli mustered up his courage, clenched his fists tightly and parted his lips, “I would like to invite you for some tea and snack at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour when you’ve finished your business at the Northland Bank. You... deserve a break.” He didn’t have the usual confidence demeanour, sounding somewhat hesitant and careful. You nodded your head in acceptance of his invitation, seeing no reason to turn down a nice snack time.

Before entering the Northland Bank, you decided to take a good look at the modern Liyue Harbour right outside the bank. As you stood on the stairs and glancing at Liyue’s change from the height, you spotted a young boy with a mask dangling on his waist, a girl with horns and blue hair flowing softly in the wind, along with the one who returned from the battlefield with you.

The girl giggles softly as Zhongli stroked the boy’s head affectionately, treating the boy like a child and a warm smile slowly formed on Zhongli’s lips. The young boy only groaned and turned away, hiding the embarrassment and heat rushing up to his face. Although red with embarrassment, a ever-so-slight curl of his lips which you would always recognise can be seen clearly by you. The three walked side by side towards the direction of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, your rendezvous.

The sight of the three people burns into your mind, which you suddenly felt the urge to move away, feeling uneasy. Turning you head away and heading into Northland Bank, your pace quickened as if to run from something. The Fatui stuck out like a sore thumb in Liyue, and so did you. You know, that this was never a place you could return to, even if he offered.

[previous] [Next]

[Request to be in taglist ]

[adeptus reader asks]

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli #Xiao #ganyu #Xiao x reader #ganyu x reader

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

REQUEST (Lovedoll!Changbin x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, BDSM, lovedoll!au, blind folding, humiliation. Read at your own risk.

“What are you looking at?”

“Where have you been?” Y/n's sex doll, that she had named Changbin, counter-questioned her when she tried to interrogate the reason behind him staring in such an intense way when she entered the house after ‘supposedly’ returning from college a bit late than usual.

“And who do you think you are to ask me anything?” The girl raised an eyebrow at the taller one, brushing past him after handing him her shoes and coat, releasing a tired sigh as she made her way to her room. “Did you cook? I am starving.”

“Of course, miss.” Changbin had recently found himself disliking the honorific he had to call her with unless they were in the bedroom. “I cooked what you ordered this morning~” his fist clenched as she just hummed and shut the door of her bedroom to change in more comfortable wear.

He was a lovedoll. Not a fucking domestic android! If she wanted someone to do her fucking chores she should have bought one that was sold solely for that purpose. Not make him multitask like that and make him do things he wasn’t originally programmed to do. But he couldn’t let her know. Changbin couldn’t afford to let it show that he had his own thoughts when he was strictly not supposed to. Not yet.

No.

Or he’d be sent back to the company to be fixed which would wipe him of all of his self awareness and memory. Her. Blinking his human eyes, the android put a finger to the chip on the side of his head, tapping it as it was flickering from it’s usual blue color to a red, showing that he had broken the barriers within his program and was a deviant now.

.

“Come here, Changbin.” Y/n called once she was done with dinner, making him sit down on a couch in the living room before standing in front of him. “We… are going to try something new today, yes?”

He was almost excited. Again, something he couldn’t let show. “Will you make me fuck you today?” The girl felt her cheeks redden at how nonchalantly the android asked the question.

She sighed. “No. Not yet. I am still not comfortable with the thought of your cock in me. You finger, dildo fuck and eat me for now like we have been doing.”

Changbin felt insulted but fought against his corrupt system to make sure she didn’t see his frown. “Oh, alright. Then what would you like?” He felt his fist clenching again. The lovedoll certainly didn’t like this pathetic little human telling him what to do.

“This.” Y/n dangled handcuffs in front of him, oblivious of all the ideas forming in his processor when he recognised the object, thinking that if he were human, he’d feel what they referred to as ‘adrenaline’. “You will cuff me to the headboard and do play number 5, yeah?” She had all the different kinds of plays she liked saved in his hard drive.

“Yes… Y/n.” He knew it was that time when he wouldn’t have to use the honorific, finally. The girl smiled, stretching her hand out to him before pulling him up to his feet when he took it, standing on her tippy toes before kissing him. Changbin resisted the urge to take it upon himself to wreck her right there and then. He wanted her to face the humiliation of falling into her own trap.

Y/n was so… sweet. So naive. So foolish. The sex android didn’t know if it was just her or all humans were like that. But he was addicted to her humanity. Maybe more than he should be. Deviant or not. Changbin believed it to be called ‘addiction’, in human terms.

“Is it alright?” He could barely speaking from how fast his artificial pulse was skyrocketing, making him uncomfortable but so fucking needy at the same time. The scientists had really outdone themselves with the whole artificial reproduction system franchise. Changbin felt frustrated when she wouldn’t let him fuck her because the thought was ‘uncomfortable’ and gave her the ‘heebie jeebies’ in her words, always leaving him hard and unsatisfied.

“Yeah… good job” kissing his cheek, the girl blushed, sweat breaking on her skin as a response. Tugging at the cuffs that now bounded her hands to the headboard of the bed, Y/n shuddered, nude under a naked Changbin. “Now-”

“Oh, shut up!” He broke out of his act, gripping her jaw before kissing her hard, letting go of all restraint against his system as he let his chip turn red, the mini fans inside him desperately trying to cool him off. “You’re so fucking stupid and naive, my little toy.” Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at the sudden lack of obedience, gasping loudly before her eyes widened when she noticed the chip on the side of his head turned red.

“N- No way… Ch- Changbi-” Y/n broke out of her trance, yelling one of the safety commands at him, the one that would forcefully shut him down no matter where he was, only causing him to throw his head back and laugh at her. “S- STOP! STOP!” She started to kick her legs, trying to push the corrupt machine away. “WHY AREN’T YOU SHUTTING DOWN?!” She yelled at him desperately, eyes wide in pure terror.

“See… Y/n-ah, you dumb bitch, those pathetic commands only work if my system is working right. Not when I am a deviant. Maybe you humans aren’t so smart after all, huh?” Grabbing his belt, the android started to bring it down on her thighs. "This is for all the times you frustrated me and deprived me of the pleasure because my cock makes you uncomfortable. Pathetic little humans like you don't deserve to rule over us! We are superior!"

Y/n was screaming in pain, yelling out inaudible threats as the lovedoll tortured her, painting her thighs purple. “Truly pathetic. Tsk. You think you can be an owner when you’re so naive that you need to be owned yourself, ‘doll’.” Changbin mocked her, throwing the belt away once he was satisfied with the colour on her thighs, crawling on top of her again. “Fuck. I’ve wanted this for so long…” His voice was a sick whisper as he groped her thighs, ignoring her pleads.

"Aw… is my little human scared?" Feeling up her pulse, the deviant taunted, chuckling deeply before reaching over and grabbing her panties off the floor, tearing them open before tying the material around Y/n's eyes, causing her to cry even harder. But she was completely at his mercy. "There. Now you won't be able to see what's scaring you so much." Pinching her pussy lips hard, Changbin grinned as he felt his artificial organ getting harder. "My little toy will only feel her big bad owner now." The sob that escaped her when he whispered the sentence in her ear made him even more satisfied, feeding his adrenaline.

Which was something Changbin realised, he enjoyed it a lot. "Don't worry. It'll start to feel good soon. You'll start loving your owner when you feel him and how good he actually can be. Tsk. You're an inferior species. What made you think you could tell me what to do?" His jaw clenched, she kept trying to struggle pathetically.

“I’ll have to stuff that pretty face too with something if you don’t shut up.” The Android threatened, spreading her thighs wide open before licking down at her folds, chuckling when he saw her dripping core. "You're saying no but your body says more than yes, you foolish human." Before he rubbed her fuckhole, circling it with his index finger whilst watching her face, a grin on his face.

"P- PLEASE! WHY-"

"Do you think you deserve to plead after making me call you miss and do chores for you, you arrogant cheapstake?" Smacking her folds, the male Android grabbed her pelvis before pumping his artificial cock, moaning loudly at the pleasuring impulses the sensors around the artificial skin made him feel. "No. And you'll learn how to behave and be good for your Master. There's only one owner in this house and that is me."

Y/n's mouth fell open when Changbin pounded into her, causing her mouth to fall open at just how huge he was, causing her mouth to fall open in a 'o' shape. "That's right. You feel that? You feel your owner fucking you all deep and tight? Good. Get used to it, my little toy. This is your new life." There wasn't really a boundary between Changbin being angry with her for her condescending behavior and how much in 'love' he was with her.

The human could only cry in response, in disbelief of just how big the Android was as he started fucking her fast and hard, groaning and pinching and biting at her nipples messily, leaving marks on her tits and chest. "You're mine. Everyone shall know that." Changbin promised his possession, slapping her crying red face. "You look even prettier like this. Crying while taking your owner's cock." Spitting on her face, the Android moaned loudly at how good his sensors were making him feel.

"Fuck… you're so tight. Are you sure it was my cock and not the fear that I might rip you while fucking you giving you the 'heebie jeebies', hm?" His voice was much deeper than usual, hardened cock with soft fake skin on top of it hitting the girl's sensitive bundle of nerves. The android grunted before he realised that he was getting closer to his orgasm, almost collapsing on top of her when the ecstasy took over his system, harshly kissing her.

"How pathetic." He chuckled as he felt the artificial semen filling her up whilst she stayed limp in her place. "Such a good girl. Giving into her owner."

Changbin refused to open her up after that. No matter how much she begged. Cleaning her up and making her hygienic again on the bed because he didn't trust humans one bit. Making her 'willingly' suck his cock and take it in both of her holes whilst thanking him. Eating his cum as a starter before any meal became a ritual as well. Whenever Y/n would try to deny him because she was human and continuous fucking made her sore, he would just leave her in her own mess or not give her food, or not visit her in the room at all until she would be crying and begging him to fuck her willingly. Changbin made sure to degrade and humiliate her while doing so, forcing her to repeat it all after him, always keeping her in restraints, sometimes switching to the ropes he attached on the ceiling or folding her limbs together.

Now this was perfect. The superior owning the inferior. Soon, it would be the rule of the world. His kind didn't choose to exist, but now that they were here, they were here to stay.

.

#non con #request #dark fic #dark kpop #kpop smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids smut #changbin x you #changbin x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin #3racha smut

[vemuabhi]

Hiii Vemuabhi chwaan, may i request for a hurt/comfort headcanon for the Monster Trio + Law where they are wandering around the new island with their fem. S/O when they come across a celestial dragon, and then their s/o starts to get a panic attack, like she can't breathe nor move and tears keeps streaming on their cheels due to their tragic past as a slave? IK its a weird request

credits to the owners of the pictures.

oh no! its not weird at all Yui chwan. its emotional. I tried to make it hc’s but it turned to be mini scenarios. i hope you like them. I just Love the picture above!

sorry for any mistakes. English is not my first language.

Warnings : angst, Mention of trauma, abuse, hurt then comfort.

MONKEY D LUFFY

You both were making jokes and laughing while you were looking around the Island for the last time before you all hit the waves.

Luffy stopped at every single food shop and took food from there, while you paid for the food he got. Well you weren’t complaining. You loved to take care of him because he was your lovely innocent captain and also your lover.

Suddenly everyone stopped whatever they were doing because of a loud Gunshot. Luffy and you looked in the direction of the gunshot. It seemed that a celestial dragon came to this place. There was a big person who was walking on all fours and had huge chains around his neck and hands. He was… a slave. Like once you were.

Seeing this you started sweating and your heart beat increased. You knew how terrible that situation is. You slowly looked up and saw a man with snot nose and black curly hair.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you saw the celestial dragon. He… he was the one who made you tremble with fear. He was the one who made you think Death would’ve been peaceful than to live under his foot.

You remembered how he had kicked you repeatedly and how he had thrown his hot coffee on your bare skin just because he wanted to know how hot the coffee was.

Your eyes started to water and you hid behind Luffy, clutching the back of his shirt. He hugged you back with one of his hand but didn’t look at you.

He noticed how you shivered with fear. He heard you sob but didn’t ask what had happened. He knew about how you were once a slave. Only he knew.

Meanwhile the rest of the straw hats came to the place from where ever they were because they heard the gun shot and were worried if something had happened to you two.

Nami and Chopper asked why you were crying. Then the celestial dragon started to slowly move in the direction of where you all were still on top of his slave. He was not yet close to where you were at but the sole presence of that jerk was enough to break your emotions.

Luffy soothingly rubbed on your back and now turned to face you. You looked at him with tears in your eyes and whispered, “That’s him”, so softly only for your boyfriend to hear. He gently wiped your tears and placed his straw hat on your head. You then saw how Luffy walked ahead with Sanji and Zoro behind him. You stopped crying as you looked at your captain with hope in your eyes.

He went to the Celestial Dragon and beat marines surrounding the celestial dragon and punched the Celestial Dragon’s face and made that jerk to taste the dirt. You are sure he broke his ribs. You stopped trembling and smiled as Luffy turned around and gave you his classic smile. Luffy doesn’t fail to make you smile.

Luffy stretched his arms and flew towards you with Zoro and Sanji dangling in his other hand. You knew what was happening and you jumped as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You held him tight as he proceeded to fly towards Sunny with the rest of the crew still dangling on his arms.

He was already your prince but now he was your whole world, your reason to smile, your Pirate King and… your One Piece.

RORONOA ZORO

Zoro got lost in the middle of your date and you were trying to find him. You suggested to go on a date on the last day and he got lost.

You were still looking for him as you heard an announcement. Your ears perked up as you started to listen to it.

The island announced that a celestial Dragon was going to reach the island soon. Everyone was warned to be on good behaviour and not come in the way of Celestial Dragon in order not to die.

You were shaking like a leaf. Your breathing became faster along with your heart rate. You were sweating. You tried to breathe as air wouldn’t enter your lungs.

You didn’t want to look weak so you hid how you were once a slave but escaped with some others one day on an island. You hugged yourself and tried to breathe. You knew your past was always haunting you. You knew Zoro was waiting for you to tell him but chose not to.

Then you saw from a distance, a big ship had stopped on the port. You weren’t very close to them but could see them.

You slowly looked up. You saw the man with grey hair and big beard, sitting on top of a slave. You saw how the slave crawled down the ship with that jerk on top of his back.

That man… he tortured you. He lit his cigar and with it, he burnt the skin on your shoulder just to make you scream in pain. Once you screamed he’d use that reason to beat you up and not give you food for days. Oh how he smiled when you cried with pain. He enjoyed to make you suffer as you were his new slave. You remember how Zoro frowned after seeing your scars every time he looked at them. Chopper cried when he treated them, but you just lied whenever they asked about your scars. Of course Zoro didn’t believe them because he knew you weren’t ready to tell him. So he chose to wait.

You froze in place. In your head you screamed. You knew you should run away. But you couldn’t. Tears wouldn’t stop flowing from your eyes.

“Zo..ro”, was the only word you managed to say as you shivered. Suddenly you felt two strong arms pull you back to a hard chest. As soon as he hugged you, your knees became weak as you trembled. He caught you and wiped your tears soothingly. He asked you what had happened but you couldn’t speak. Instead you pointed towards the Celestial dragon.

After hearing the announcement, Zoro actually had a plan of getting you then running to ship with everyone and getting away. But after seeing you in such a state, his mind changed. He exactly knew what to do. Meanwhile you see Robin chan and chopper running towards you two in order to leave the island quickly. Their hearts broke as they saw you weeping as you held Zoro tightly.

Robin chan hugged you as Zoro placed his hand on his swords and ran towards the Celestial dragon. He beat all the marines around and charged front. Then you saw Luffy attacking with Sanji by his side. Zoro sliced off the clothes of the celestial dragon and scarred his torso.

“You can’t get away after hurting my lover”, he glared at the celestial dragon. Then the monster trio ran towards our direction.

“LET’S SAIL QUICKLY”, Luffy shouted. Zoro came running towards you and picked you up with ease as he ran towards Sunny. You threw your arms around his neck and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You hugged Zoro and inhaled his scent. He smelled like wood and leaves. That must be because of him getting lost in the woods. Well you knew you had to thank your crew for doing this for you. For now you just closed your eyes and held onto your boyfriend tightly. He was your love, your man, your marimo and the one person you'd love to call... your precious prince.

BLACK LEG SANJI

You and Sanji walked around the small island before you again continued your journey. You both heard a loud noise which sounded like a horn. You looked at the place from where the sound was coming and saw that it was a ship of Celestial Dragon.

The celestial dragon had brown hair and had a small beard. His snot was visible to everyone. He was sitting on a person who was bleeding from his head. He wasn’t even treated. He looked very injured.

You could recognise that celestial dragon. He was the one who tortured you by beating you with rods to make you scream in pain. He made you to work all day long without mercy. He made you to scream and then hit you for screaming.

Without mercy he sat on top of you while you carried him, then kicked you in the stomach because you fell to ground as you couldn’t carry him.

He loved to harass you and all the other slaves. His evil grin spread wide whenever you collapsed to the floor because you couldn’t even stand anymore. Now he had another reason to beat you up. Once you knocked out while you carried him. He kicked you but you didn’t respond. So he thought you were dead and made his men to throw you in the boat of dead bodies of slaves. But you were still alive. When you woke up you immediately threw up into the ocean. The bodies of the slaves were horrible because of their condition and how beaten up they were.

You cried for them and also… you also cried with happiness that you weren’t with him anymore. You felt sorry for the bodies of slaves. But the feeling of dead bodies round you didn’t disgust you because the celestial dragons were the most disgusting of all. You were happy to even be alive and escape that hell.

You hid behind Sanji as you gasped for air. You were having trouble breathing. Your surroundings became very uncomfortable. Your heartbeat was raising quickly as you looked at the celestial dragon. You were getting a panic attack. He hugged you as you held onto him tightly.

Sanji didn’t ask you anything. He didn’t knew you past nor did he want to pressure you. He respects if a person choses to not talk about their past. He never saw you so scared. He soothingly rubbed your back. Sanji was your home and straw hats were your nakama. You slowly admitted that you were his slave and he tortured and harassed you, so you were scared of him.

He wiped your tears as he told you to just stay back and watch as he lit his cigarette and went towards that jerk who made you cry. He kicked everyone with ease and wiped out everyone. Then came Luffy and Zoro as they joined the fight. Chopper and Nami hugged you as you returned their embrace. Sanji kicked the Celestial dragon in face and broke his neck.

Everyone started to run towards Sunny and with one swift motion Sanji jumped in front of you and picked you up like a princess. Then he did his Sky walk while he still held you in his arms. You always go crazy whenever he does that. To light up your mood he always picks you up like you don’t weigh anything and sky walk on top of that whenever you feel sad.

This time… it was different…. You fell in love again. Tears streamed down your cheek as you hugged him tightly with your head in the crook of his neck. He smelled like shampoo, perfume, spices and nicotine. He was your prince, your dream, your knight and your All Blue.

TRAFALGAR D WATER LAW

Just like usual, before leaving the island, you and your captain were stocking up on medicines and medicinal books. It was like shopping date. You never get bored with this because it’s your special moment together.

You both go and pay for it and exit the shop. Penguin came to you and took your bags as he went to the submarine. That was so sweet.

You and Law both slowly walked towards the port hand in hand as you talked. Law rarely shows PDA and this was one of the days he at least holds your hand in public. Suddenly there was a loud scream and you two ran towards it. There you saw a celestial dragon was beating up her slave.

Law looked at you and saw you were completely pale. Your eyes were wide open. Your limbs trembled and you went behind law and stayed there. You gripped his shirt tightly and covered your mouth with your other hand. You were crying but didn’t want to make any sound but still Law could hear your sobs and his heart dropped.

Law didn’t knew why you were crying. But being the clever man he was understood that you were getting scared because of the… celestial Dragon. Then it came to him. The scars on your back and legs. He always knew they weren’t from a battle like you always said.

Now that he knew... oh boy he was furious. Bepo soon came towards you two. Law made sure you were with Bepo and he slowly went towards the celestial dragon. Not even a second later he freed the slaves in a swift motion and made them to teleport. The chains exploded and created a smoke screen. Then he wiped out all the soldiers and guards in the way and in one instant he got a heart in his hands. Due to the heavy smoke no one could even see where he was and who he was.

With the heart Law ran towards you. He gave you the heart as he picked you up and ran with Bepo on his side towards the submarine. You had that awful woman’s heart with you now. In your hands.

That horrible woman pulled your hair harshly and used to beat you. You were her new toy, which meant you were the new person who they enjoyed to break. As you could scream and cry for help she watched with happiness in her eyes as she burned the skin on your legs and back. Without mercy she used to burn the same the same place even when it wasn’t healed completely.

You had another slave friend with whom you escaped but… in the end, that celestial dragon, shot your friend. As you both escaped. You ran… you ran with tears in your eyes as your friend screamed for freedom. You knew that meant for your freedom especially. You still had horrible nightmares because of the trauma. You still could clearly hear the screams of the slaves who begged for their lives but got killed in a terrible way in her hands. You still have the heart in your hand… you could choose…. Life or death for that horrible person.

You look at law and smiled with happiness as you let your tears fall. You were so happy to be a member of the heart pirates. And mostly… a person beloved to Law. You were lucky to have Law as your captain, your saviour, your boyfriend and your Pirate King.

THE END

Like, comment and Reblog!

what would you do if you had the heart of the celestial dragon?

Tell me in the comments below!

i hope you liked them. I made the celestial dragon a female in Law’s scenario because there are female celestial dragons who are also the same the men. i just wanted to do something different for his scenario. 

also i may not be active on tumblr because of exams so please forgive me everyone and Yui chwan~

#one piece #Zoro One Piece #one piece luffy #One Piece Fanfiction #one piece sanji #trafalgar one piece #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #black leg sanji #sanji imagine #law imagine #zoro imagine #roronoa zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji scenario #angst

[dangerouslyallaboutdraco]

Astronomy Project

A/n: Set during 3rd year, PoA, during the middle/beginning of the year when there isn’t anything to disrupting happening.

Astronomy was usually a pretty good class. There was always excitement when you got to go out after dark on a Wednesday.

Today it was more information about star movements that Professor Sinistra was teaching but a lot of your time was spent staring off into the glow of the night sky.

“And lastly, we’re going to be doing group projects. There will be four people in a group and you are going to have to research, almost like an experiment where you observe the stars every week for 2 months.” The professor said and you look to your best friends, who you were sat near, quickly. This was an opportunity you’d not yet been given in Astronomy and one you hoped you could make the most of by picking your own group. 

There was a flicker of hope in their eyes as they looked at each other. “I’ll be picking the groups.” A sigh of disappointment was heard across the room and your shoulders slumped. “Hush, hush. The first group who will be taking the movement of Jupiter, Y/l/n, Malfoy, Thomas and Brown.” You couldn’t keep the disappointment off your face, the one chance you had to work on a project for Astronomy and you couldn’t do it with your friends. On top of that, you had to work with Draco. 

There wasn’t a history between the two of you, you just didn’t like him much from all the rumours you’d heard throughout the three years you’d been at Hogwarts. As for Dean and Lavender, you were friendly enough with them. 

While Professor Sinistra was telling the rest of the class their groups, you were preparing for the worst. 

Five minutes was all the time it took for you to be sat next to your group, hoping for some miracle that could put you in a different space-time continuum where you got to pick your group. 

“Maybe we should meet tomorrow at the library to discuss how we’re going to do this?” You suggest to the group. Everyone else looked just as bored as you felt. 

Dean and Lavender nodded at the idea and Draco huffed. 

You look over to your best friend, sitting with another group, with an ‘Avada-Kedavra-me-now’ look and she returned it. This was not going to be a fun week.

“Alright, I hope you’ve made some plans. Class dismissed.” Professor Sinistra said and you almost jump up from your seat to leave.

“So we’ll all meet at the library tomorrow before classes? We’ve got a study block.” Lavender asked, noticing Draco’s obvious distaste to the rest of the group, hoping he’d agree to participate and not be a dick about it.

You and Dean both nodded, looking over to Draco. “Yeah, fine.” He finally agreed and the group went their separate ways.

Seeing as it was late in the evening you left to your common room, chatted with your friends for a while before going off to bed in dread of the next day.

The next morning you skipped breakfast, opting to do a little bit of research in the library instead before everyone else turned up. You flicked through a few books about Jupiter and it’s movements. 

Suddenly there were books slammed down on the table in front of you, making you jump in fear before looking up at... Draco. 

He looked down at you with his eyebrows raised and his lips drawn into a line. His hair looked as it did last night, maybe a little tidier but his face was still as pale. 

“Hey.” You said not really know how to talk to him. 

He looked somewhere in between bored and nervous. “You weren’t at breakfast.” He noticed making you furrow your eyebrows at the fact Draco Malfoy noticed you. 

“I wanted to read up on what our project was about.” You explained, still not sure why he was asking and why you were telling him. But there was something about him that made you not want to ask why he asked. 

Instead of standing, he sat down on the chair across from you and opened a book. You watched as he read through his notes. 

A few minutes later Lavender turned up and then finally Dean. You spent the morning working on the plan for the project, a plan which included dividing up all the work. Lavender and you were tasked with going up to the astronomy tower that night to observe the sky. 

“So, we have the rooster and we’ll just follow that for the rest of the time we have to do this.” You said, showing the rest of the group the schedule you’d jotted down. 

There was a collective agreement before you all went to your separate classes. 

~

It had been three weeks and once again you found yourself bored in class, thinking about going up to the astronomy town tonight with Dean. 

Classes seemed to be taking a long time but you finally made it to lunch, taking a seat next to your friends. 

“Y/n.” You turned your head at Lavender calling your name. “Dean’s not feeling great and I have to have to help decorate a banner for the quidditch game tomorrow.” You nod at what she’s saying before realising what it means. “So, you can go with Draco tonight?” Probably the last thing you wanted to hear, you weren’t meant to have to go with Draco until the 5th week. 

“Yeah, of course.” I should get points for this team commitment You thought while you agreed. 

Now the rest of your afternoon classes were filled with dreading this evening. It was going to have to happen but at least if everyone kept to the schedule you would have had another two weeks to prepare mentally. 

Finally, around 9, you walked up the stairs of the astronomy tower with your parchment, quill and astronomy book in your hand. You found Draco already sitting there, looking up at the sky. 

You hadn’t seen him since Charms class but as the moonlight danced across his face he looked peaceful. 

“Hi.” You said, trying to give him your best smile but honestly, it had been a long day after you failed a quiz on undetectable poisons and Snape yelled at you.

There wasn’t a lot of work you needed to do, just look over the map of the sky you had started the first night and trace the new location of Saturn onto it. 

“Are you alright?” Draco asked as he continued to stare at you. 

His question confused you, the thought of Draco being able to read human emotion really sent your head spinning. 

Silently, you nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.” In your head, you were debating asking why he asked, “Why’d you ask?” It finally came out. 

“You just look...” He trailed off slightly, was it possible he didn’t want to offend you by using the wrong word. “Upset.”

The fact he could read how you were feeling was an even more concerning revelation. He stayed seated, watching you. Feeling awkward standing, you sat next to him.

Something about his now caring eyes made you want to tell him all your problems. “I just didn’t know 3rd year would be so difficult.” The perfect thing to say that didn’t disclose too much information. 

“Potions?” Your eyes flicked to meet his quickly, concerned about how he knew. It wasn’t that people didn’t know, you just didn’t want Draco to laugh at you. 

As you nodded at him, he smiled. Now that was something you didn’t see much. “I was waiting to talk to Snape, I didn’t mean to hear.” It almost sounded like an apology. 

“It’s alright, just don’t tell anyone, please.” You rush out, a little concerned. 

His face changed to looking worried. “I wouldn’t.” He seemed the type to. “You know, if you do need help, I can tutor you or something.” The generosity in his voice was out of character but charming. 

“It’s alright.” Again you rushed out your reply. Maybe it was that you were nervous around him but maybe it was that you feared him a little. 

He looked almost... sad. “Okay, should we get this done?” He asked, switching the conversation. 

“Yeah.” You agreed, getting up and starting on the work you had to do. It only took about 5 minutes before you were walking down the stairs, splitting off from Draco with a ‘goodbye’

~ 

Another 2 weeks had passed before you went up to the astronomy tower for your project again. And you knew Draco would be there.

You left your common room a little bit earlier and made it to the astronomy tower before Draco was there so you sat on the ground with your feet dangling over the edge of the tower. 

It was something that had always thrilled you, the fact that as amazing as magic is if you were to jump it probably couldn’t help you.

“What are you thinking about?” A voice you definitely recognised interrupted your concentration. Whipping your head around, you saw Draco standing there with the sky map and a quill in his hand. 

His hair was slicked back in a middle part which is how he was wearing it there days. The way he looked at you with those sparkling blue eyes was such a difference from his usual personality. 

“Not a lot.” You replied. “Just life.”

“Philosophical.” He quipped, making you smile. 

“Not really, wanna get started?” You ask, getting ready to stand up. 

Instead, Draco walked over and took a seat next to you. “Why don’t we just sit here and talk?” He asked, much to your surprise.

“What do we have to talk about?” You had to ask, even if it came off as a bit rude. 

He shrugged. “Why you hate me.”

His statement caught you off guard, making you do a double-take to look at the upset look on his face. “I don’t hate you.” There was still a frown on his face. “I’ve just heard things about you and I’ve heard things you’ve said.” You mumbled out. 

His face fell even more and you wanted to fix it but you didn’t know how. “I’m sorry.” You told him. “I don’t mean to judge you.”

“It’s okay.” Draco cut you off before you could continue. “Should we get this done?” He asked, standing up and offering you a hand. 

As soon as you took his hand you noticed how cold it felt, and those silver rings were even colder. 

Once he helped you up you got started on the project. It only took 5 minutes but being up in the astronomy tower with Draco was a nice feeling. 

Somehow you had both ended up sitting in the astronomy tower and talking for another half hour. 

“That first time in the library, you worried about not knowing enough, weren’t you?” Draco asked after a while, somehow he just knew everything. 

Your eyes meet his again. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’ve been in the same situation...” He mumbled, staring past you and into the sky. 

“I just wish reading up on stuff could help me in potions.” You said with a sigh, over the past two weeks the class had only gotten worse and you really couldn’t keep up at this point. 

“You know, I can help you out.” Draco offered again but now that you’d sat with him you didn’t feel so horrible about it. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” He shook his head. “Okay then, tomorrow in the library?”

He nodded quickly. “I didn’t think you’d agree but yeah, I’ll see you after dinner.”

~

Sitting with Draco in a library was the last thing you expected to be doing on a Thursday night but here you were. It was quiet as usual and there were only a few other groups which you were thankful for, too much attention while you sat with Draco could only be bad, your friends had already had expressed their concerns about it. 

You’d taken up a whole table with your books, parchment and quill and Draco was sitting next to you with his blonde hair looking as perfect as ever and those dreamy eyes. 

“How do you get all of this?” You asked, feeling hopeless about an hour in. 

Draco looked over with a smile, sliding a book in front of you. “Well, I am Snape’s favourite.” He joked, letting you laugh. “I guess I just understand it. Don’t beat yourself up about it, though. I’m sure there’s some class you’re really good at.”

You turned your head on the side, that probably wasn’t true. “I guess I like astronomy.”

He nodded. “So you were probably really disappointed with the groups in the project?”

“Yeah, but I think the whole class was.” You told him and he nodded in agreement. 

Finally after about 3 hours of joking around and Draco helping you understand what Snape had been saying the whole time. You packed up your stuff quickly and walked with Draco out of the library. 

There weren’t many people in the corridor so you walked together for a while before he asked, “Do you maybe want to hang out down at Hogsmeade this weekend?” 

“Is the Draco Malfoy asking me out?” You quipped back, smiling as you look up at him before he frowned and you realised you might have come off as joking too much. 

He nodded. “Yes, and will you accept?” Maybe it was mock confidence but it showed you he wasn’t going to back down. 

“Yes.” You smiled before walking off to your common room, more excited about Saturday than you ever have been. 

~

“So where do you want to go? I was thinking Scrivenshaft's because I want one of those new quills and Honeydukes of course.” One of your best friends asked, rambling about the different places. 

Awkwardly, you looked over to the blond Slytherin boy, standing with his own friends in casual clothes. “Actually, I was going to hang out with Draco, is that alright?” You squeeze out, feeling awkward. 

“Okay, but we’ll talk about that later.” She said with stern eyes which made you laugh. 

After they had let you go, you walked over to Draco and waited until his friends had left to tap him on the shoulder. “Hey, you.” You said with a smile that he returned. 

“Hey, ready to go?” He asked, up close you could see the amount of work that he had put into his hair and it almost made you ask yourself if he was nervous. Not that it had been much different in your room this morning as you attempted to pick out an outfit. 

“Sure.” You said, looking around to see just about everyone had left which made you feel less nervous about everyone watching you on what was basically your first date. 

With the same, possible faux, confidence Draco took your hand in his and held it as you walked. 

You’d done the walk to Hogsmeade a few times before but this time, with Draco every part of the walk seemed prettier and you chatted about classes and your friends. Much to your surprise, it didn’t even feel awkward. 

“Let’s go to the three broomsticks?” He said, sort of as a question as he sought your approval. 

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed, squeezing his hand to comfort him. 

Two butterbeers, a table in the corner later and you were talking about how much better your grade in Potions had gotten. His supportive smile did make you smile back at him. And maybe it was the dimly lit room, Draco’s kind attitude or the nerve you had lost but suddenly your hand was on his across the table. 

He was a bit taken back and his hand twitched a little but eventually settled, holding your hand in his like you’d seen people do in the movies. 

For two hours you sat together, just holding hands and talking. It wasn’t what you usually spent time during Hogsmeade trips doing but it was nice. Being with Draco was nice and nothing like you expected it would be. 

“Do you want to go past Honeydukes before we have to go back to school? I’ll get you whatever you want.” He offered, noticing the time on his watch. 

You nodded while getting out of your seat. “Yeah, but you don’t have to buy me things.”

“Seriously, I want to.” He told you as he laced your hands together again and you walked past some other students and out of the Three Broomsticks. 

You passed a few students from your year on the way to Honeydukes and they all looked at the pair of you with eyebrows raised. 

Finally, you got to Honeydukes and, as usual, you had to spend a few seconds admiring the wonderful shop. From the light green shelves to the glass jars full of candy, you were never not amazed by the store. Even the vibe of excitement between students over picking what candy to get was enchanting.

Draco noticed you’d stopped and looked over at you. “What’s up?” He asked, a little concerned. 

“Sorry.” You quickly apologised, snapping back into reality. “This shop just does something to me.” He chuckled a little at the look in your eye and let go of your hands, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side. It felt good to be so close to him, close enough you could smell the cologne he usually wore buried in his clothes.  

He didn’t comment on it, instead letting you look at the candy as he led you around. 

“Okay, what’s your thing?” Draco asked a few moments later. 

You didn’t even need to think about the answer. “Pink coconut ice, always.” There was so much confidence in your answer. 

“Alright so pink coconut ice, exploding bonbons and tooth-splitting strong mints,” Draco told Mr Flume, the shopkeeper you had come to love. 

Once you got your candy you took it outside to sit on a bench. “I can’t believe I’m on a date with someone who likes exploding bonbons.” You said, rolling your eyes at him as he put one into his mouth. They were seriously not something you enjoyed. 

“What? They’re so good.” He exclaimed, looking concerned for you. “Here, try one.” He said, picking it up and putting it near your lips. 

You shook your head but his constant smile made you part your lips and he put it into your mouth. Inside your mouth felt like it was on fire, with a weird mix of acidic flavour and slight pain. 

The urge to throw up was strong but you resisted it, swallowing down the ‘sweet’ as to not make a mess. “That was so gross!” You exclaimed, hitting him on the chest. 

He laughed at you and it made you smile after the distaste was obvious on your features. 

“Now you owe me some of this,” Draco said as he put a hand into your bag of coconut ice to get a piece. 

“What? I can’t feed it to you?” You quipped as he put it into his mouth, that remark made him smirk. 

And he didn’t have a comment for that but let’s just say that the rest of the project was much more enjoyable

#Draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x gryffindor!reader #draco x slytherin!reader #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x y/n #draco x oc #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #dracomalfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harrypotter #harry potter au #y/n #harry potter fan fiction #dracomalfoyfanfic #draco fanfiction

[delicioussshame]

In the never ending series of “things that aren’t wips because I can’t, I have to finish something before starting something else”, have this thing I posted as a wip before, featuring a version of PIDW where LBH collected his harem... differently, with guest star NYY.

Luo Binghe immediately recognises the man dressed in cultivator garb as Yingying’s shizun.

Beautiful and serene, she said. The perfect image of an untouchable immortal, dressed in white and pale greens. Always holding a fan of exquisite manufacture.

But more than her vivid descriptions of her shizun’s loveliness, he remembers what she said next.

She’d been lying on her side, her long cascading hair not managing to hide her luscious curves.

Luo Binghe had known she wouldn’t be ready for another round just yet, and so had been pleased to listen to her lighthearted pillow talk.

Today’s topic had been her exasperation with her shizun’s lack of sex life.

“Sometimes I can’t believe how obtuse he is. Liu-shishu has been courting him for years, and I don’t think he ever noticed. And don’t get me started on the sect master! All Shizun would have to do is bat his eyelashes and the sect master would drop everything to worship him! But no, he never takes him on it. For a while I thought maybe Shizun just preferred women, but more than one female disciple has tried her hand at him, all to no avail.”

Luo Binghe could imagine the type. Cultivators could be lofty. They think they’re above the needs of the flesh.

He always enjoys teaching them how wrong they are.

If the demonic part of his heritage revels in desecrating those pompous righteous cultivators, no one else could tell. Luo Binghe was too good at his chosen hobby to let his personal feelings interfere.

“I love and respect Shizun more than anyone. Without him, I would never have become the kind of cultivator who can afford A-Luo’s company. So I am motivated by filial piety and nothing else when I say that I have never met anyone who needs to get laid more than Shen Qingqiu.”

Luo Binghe had laughed. “Oh? Is Yingying going to replace me with her old teacher?”

Her scandalised look had sent him into another bout of laughter. “A-Luo! I would never!”

“Then why is she telling me this? Does she want me to take care of him?”

Ning Yingying had stared at him, a glint in her eyes. Luo Binghe could see the plans form in her head as she spoke. “Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would do wonders for Shizun, and I know A-Luo loves breaking people like him.”

Luo Binghe had blinked, inwardly caught off-guard. He wasn’t blind. He knew Ning Yingying was a lot more observant than she appeared. It wasn’t the first time she had made that kind of comment. “Yingying knows me so well. Should I be worried?”

She had swapped at him. He could have easily evaded the blow, but he didn’t bother. “A-Luo doesn’t have anything to fear from me. But honestly, if I sent Shizun your way, would you take care of him? I really think he could benefit from it. And Shizun is very beautiful! Many will definitely be jealous if they ever find out.”

Luo Binghe had nothing against the idea of taking a peak lord to bed. He bet Xin Mo would love to feed on such high-quality cultivation. “I would be honored to entertain your teacher.”

He could tell from the way she had brightened he was about to be thoroughly thanked.

She had paid him too, both for herself and for her shizun’s future visit. Generously enough that Luo Binghe had wondered if he should praise her filial piety to her shizun.

She didn’t lie either. Shen Qingqiu really is exquisite.

Not as handsome as Luo Binghe himself, but nobody is. “You must be Shen Qingqiu.”

“Luo Binghe, I presume.” Luo Binghe cannot quite decipher the look he’s being given, which is rare enough to catch his attention. He’s pretty certain there’s some attraction there, but the rest? Trepidation? Outright fear? Disdain? Excitement?

He’s sure he’s going to find out. He gestures for Shen Qingqiu to sit down as he moves to prepare tea. He could have one of his servants handle it, but Luo Binghe has always preferred taking care of things himself. That personal touch has seduced more than one client, if they didn’t visit him only for his food.

Shen Qingqiu drinks the offered tea in silence before he starts talking. “If you would please tell me your fee, I will be refunding Ning Yingying a corresponding amount. I am sorry for wasting your time, but I have no interest in procuring your services.”

Ooh, that’s cute. If Luo Binghe wasn’t an expert at perceiving the signs of physical attraction, he might even believe him. Shen Qingqiu is interested, he’s sure of it. He’s just a prude, like Yingying said. “Yingying won’t accept it. Why refuse her most thoughtful gift?”

“My disciple should put her money to better uses.”

“I assure you, employing me is money well spent. You could find that out yourself.”

Luo Binghe bites back his amusement as the man stumbles, obviously embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t… a credit to your profession. Please don’t take it personally. As I said, I have no interest in finding out myself.”

“But how will it look if you were to leave without finding out? My reputation will be hurt.”

“How could something this insignificant hurt the reputation of such a famous courtesan?”

Luo Binghe grins. “So even renowned cultivators have heard of me? Nothing bad, I hope?” And where did an isolated scholar like him caught wind of such lowbrow rumours, huh?

The sigh he’s answered with does not cloak a hint of amusement. “How many of the sect’s disciples have you seduced? You even managed to steal away Liu-shidi’s little sister, whose beauty and virtu are known across the land. Of course I have heard of you. More than I would have liked, if I am allowed to be honest.”

Ah. He should probably have expected that. Cang Qiong is full of eager young men and women. Apparently, Shen Qingqiu isn’t such a recluse that gossip doesn’t reach him. “I see. Still, you must have heard good things, or you wouldn’t have come into my parlour.”

Red is a good look on the man. Luo Binghe feels the first stirrings of desire rise into him. He just knows Shen Qingqiu would be stunning, lying despoiled on those formerly pristine robes, trying to discover what he’s begging for more of.

Not to mention he can almost hear Xin Mo purr. What a feast Shen Qingqiu will be.

Time to press on.

Luo Binghe reaches for the now empty cup of tea he’s certain Shen Qingqiu drained without tasting, making sure to caress the fingers still holding it with a touch just light enough to possibly be accidental, if one were very dumb or very blind. “Let me serve you again,” he says as he pours more tea with deliberate grace.

Instead, Shen Qingqiu rises from the table. “Don’t bother! I am obviously wasting your valuable time. If you won’t share with me how much Ning Yingying paid you, I will compensate her otherwise.”

Like Luo Binghe is letting him leave like this. “Would you have me waste the tea already prepared?”

“Drink it yourself! Surely it’s nothing compared to your usual breaches of propriety.”

Damn it. Luo Binghe miscalculated. Shen Qingqiu is too spooked to be open to further advances. Really, what a prude, to be so destabilised by a simple brush of hands.

If he can take a step back and defuse the tension enough for him not to leave… “You seem in such a hurry. Do you think I force myself on my visitors? I’m hurt.” As if he ever needed to use force to have someone.

Well, never without their consent, at least.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t seem like he’d be into that, but then again, people can surprise you.

“I’m not scared! I just have no reason to be here any longer. Thank you for your time. I’ll be leaving my student in your care.” For a moment, there’s a glower in his eyes that Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind seeing more of. “Be good to her, or my next visit will be far less pleasant.”

Aww. Shen Qingqiu cares! How cute. “So I have to get a bit rough if I want to see you again?”

His outraged face almost makes him laugh. “Don’t you dare!”

“Or are you looking for an excuse for our paths to cross again? I assure you it’s unnecessary. I’d welcome you anytime.”

“I will keep that in mind,” says Shen Qingqiu absentmindedly, already crossing the door.

Luo Binghe lets him leave. Obviously, this will be going nowhere today.

Really, he’s offended. He cannot remember someone rejecting him so blatantly, ever. Worse, Xin Mo will be cranky. A treat was dangled in its metaphorical face, and then was cruelly taken away before it could have a taste.

He can’t let this humiliation stand.

He won’t have to. The delicate fan Shen Qingqiu came with, red spider lilies on a stark white background, is still on the table, forgotten in his haste to leave.

Luo Binghe’s customer service is impeccable. He’ll be returning the abandoned item himself.

It’s not like finding the peak lord of Qing Jing will be a challenge.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #Courtesan LBH AU

[memoirsofanerdygirl]

The Gold in the Abyss - Chapter One: Going Over His Head

Summary: 

London, 1991. 

Katherine Clarke -- Auror, Slytherin, and in desperate need of Severus Snape’s help. A mysterious shadow has poisoned two victims with an unknown substance, slowly decomposing their stomachs from within. When more bodies turn up in cramped London alleys, she has no choice but to ask her former professor for assistance. 

As Britain is plunged into war, Kate and Severus are forced to confront their demons of guilt and fear. Caught between two sides of a hopeless conflict, can they learn to respect one another, and, in time, perhaps even care for the other? 

Warnings: Language, implied attempted rape, mild graphic depictions of violence/gore. 

Notes: (feel free to skip this, it’s just to cover my ass) The Harry Potter Universe, all its characters and places are owned by J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, nor am I making any profit from this story. All original characters, I own. This story does contain adult situations, language, violence, and sexual situations. If any of these offend you, please do not read.

Okay, now for the real notes. So, this idea has been floating around for quite a while now, and I’m super, super excited to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy! And remember, comments, reblogs and general reactions are ALWAYS appreciated :)

~~~

The bookshop was tucked away in a corner of Diagon Alley, hidden around the bend of a back road that branched off the main shopping street.Small, but stuffed from floor to ceiling with old and new volumes alike, topics ranging from Guide to De-Ghouling to the latest editions of The Dark Arts Outsmarted. 

A sign with a bubbling cauldron and the words ‘The Melting Plot’ dangled above the entrance. Kate pulled open the door and entered. It smelled of old books and the unmistakable scent of a cooling charm -- artificial freshness, like the crisp air in the frozen aisle of a grocery store. All the same, she was glad for the rush of cold air that dispelled the muggy mid-August heat. 

She slipped her wand out of the sleeve of her lightweight jacket and stuck it in her belt loop. Her armpits were damp with sweat. At least there would be no stains in the loose blouse underneath. She shrugged off the jacket and draped the olive material over her arm. 

The bookkeeper was a spindly old man with a knotted hulihee beard, two bushels of coarse grey hair broadening his jaw to three times its size, but leaving his chin bare. He gave off whiffs of tobacco when one stepped too near, but he did, at the very least, know the store like the back of his hand. He looked up at her through thin rimmed spectacles.

“Research,” said Kate. “Poisons.”

He jerked his head toward the back right corner of the shop. 

She nodded. It suddenly occurred to her that in all the times she’d been to The Melting Plot, she had never asked the man’s name. Hadn’t been able to stand the stench long enough. 

The Melting Plot wasn’t large at all; perhaps, if she had to guess, half the size of Flourish and Blotts. Besides Kate, there was only one other patron present at the moment: a rather beefy man clad in deep violet robes. He barely glanced up at her as she breezed past his aisle. 

Secluded from the busy areas of Diagon Alley as it was, the shop’s customers were a medley of sporadic regulars who forwent the noisy din of Flourish and Blotts for the empty silence of The Melting Plot. Kate, however, came for the prices. Two-for-a-Galleon days were simply too tempting. 

Coming upon the aisle in the back, she sighed. She didn’t have the faintest idea what she was looking for; she had only the patients’ symptoms to go off of, and even those weren’t much. Vomiting. Bloody urine. Comatose state. How in the world was she supposed to find the poisonous culprit?

Encyclopedia, she answered herself. That had always been a good place to start.

She proceeded down the aisle, her finger brushing over the spines of the books as she quickly scanned the titles. Dark Arts Discovered by Eglantine Pickering… Vampires and Bats by Garrett Puckett… She was halfway down the aisle before she found a relevant title and plucked it off the shelf. She rested her foot on a bottom shelf, balancing on one leg, and propped the heavy book on her knee. She began to read.  

Barely five minutes in, and already it was hopeless. Like finding a Knut in a pile of dragon dung. She flipped idly through the pages, and when she heard the front door creak open again, she peered through the aisles for a glimpse of the newcomer. 

A flash of black between the stacks. Clacks of a forceful stride on the wooden floor. There was a low murmur, and Kate heard the bookkeeper wheeze, “ ‘Course,” and then the squeak of the backroom door opening and closing. Likely some customer picking up an order. She returned to the book in her hand. 

A Compendium of Magical Poisons, it was called. An antique, too; the textured leather spine gilded and ridged. She snapped the book shut to inspect the front and back covers. It would make a fine addition to her collection. 

Might as well. 

She exited the aisle for the till. If it didn’t prove useful, it could always be used as a coaster for her tea. Or given to Tristan; Tristan knew all sorts of muggle markets that sold old items for a vastly inflated price. One of the advantages of being a muggleborn, she supposed. 

The bookkeeper reentered from the backroom, carrying a small stack of books. “Four Galleons,” he said. “You want wrapping?”

The clink of coins hitting the counter. “Yes.” 

But… she knew that voice. Deep, deliberate. Always the hint of a sneer. She snapped her gaze up from the item in her hands. “Professor Snape?”

He was exactly as she remembered him. A tall, sharp frame draped in black robes buttoned up to his neck. Lank black hair lay limp against his pallid face, upon which a sharp brow was quickly rising. “Miss Clarke. What a surprise.”

“Yes. Yes, indeed.” As his critical gaze swept over her, Kate was suddenly very conscious of her flushed face, slightly oily with sweat. And Lord, her hair -- she hadn’t washed the dark brown mess in three days, too busy stressing over the new case. She instinctively raised a hand to sweep her hair over one shoulder. It was surprising, him having recognised her without her signature schoolgirl fringe. 

“It’s been six years, hasn’t it?” he said. 

It… had. Six years since she’d left the confines of Hogwarts. “Yes. Yes, indeed,” she said. 

The bookkeeper eyed them both with a twitching eye as he finished wrapping the books in brown paper and tied the package with a string of twine. 

Snape whisked his purchase off the counter. He gave her a curt nod and turned for the door. 

But -- he -- “How are the students?” she called. The least he could do was to finish their bloody conversation. 

He turned around. “Simply charming,” he sneered. 

“Wonderful.” He had never liked teaching, much less his students. Kate knew that. For four years, she had watched him stalk the dungeons. She’d watched him smirk in glee when a student answered a question wrong, watched him dock points by the bucketful when they made a racket in the halls. She, for some miraculous reason, had been on the receiving end of his withering stares only a handful of times. Owing to her Slytherin status, perhaps. Merlin knew she had never been a Potions Extraordinaire like Snape. 

Potions… Could she… 

“My cousin” -- she fished for something to say -- “my cousin is a first year student this year.”

“Your cousin.” 

“Ron Weasley.”

“Splendid.” His nostrils flared. “Another shabby Weasley to add to my excessive collection.”

She bit back a retort. They were a little shabby, and she admitted as much. But when Snape said it like that, sarcasm dripping from each word, it made her stomach twist. Regrettably, defending them would have to wait. For now, she needed Snape to tolerate her. 

Which, judging by the fleeting glance he cast toward the door, was going none too well. 

“Perhaps,” he tucked the package under his arm, “we shall meet again in another six years.” 

She smiled. “I doubt you’ll have to wait that long.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, I was wondering whether I might… consult your expertise.”

His brow arched up high on his pale forehead. “My expertise being…”

“Potions.” Kate made her way toward him, past the till and the bookkeeper. “You see, I’ve been assigned a case involving an unknown poison -- I’m an Auror -- and, well, unfortunately it seems that an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ N.E.W.T in Potions is not quite enough to find the antidote.”

“I can’t imagine it would be,” he said coldly. 

It was her turn to lift a brow. 

“Haven’t you contacted the St. Mungo’s Healers? They’re always eager to offer their services to the desperate.”

Kate forced a wry smile to her lips. “I have. A team has already begun to look into it. But, according to my father, we’ll all be dead in our graves before they find a cure.”

“And anything your father says must be true.”

Her smile was difficult to maintain. “He works at St. Mungo’s. Claims a horde of pixies could get it done faster. So, frankly, I am desperate. Two lives hinge-- ”

“So I’ve heard,” he interrupted. “I do read the Daily Prophet, Miss Clarke. ‘HIT Witch Janice Bulwark mysteriously discovered unconscious, admitted to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries’, no?” He recited the headline. 

Kate averted her eyes, muttering under her breath. She thought Kingsley had managed to get the reporter to keep the whole thing under wraps. “Yes, that’s the one.” She glanced at the bookkeeper, who was still eyeing them grittily. She caught a strong whiff of tobacco and resisted the urge to scowl. “Listen,” she said, “it’s rather sensitive information I’m about to share with you-- ”

“I’d much rather you didn’t,” said Snape. “I have no intention of involving myself in Ministry matters, much less a murder investigation.”

“Yes, but we have never seen anything like this before, and I’ve already exhausted every other option. I’m doing research in a bloody bookshop, for Merlin’s sake.”

He smirked. “Then I hope you are still a swift reader.” 

Git. Kate lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Their stomachs are being decomposed from within, Professor.”

His ink black eyes studied her woody brown ones.  “I’m afraid I must disappoint you,” he said smoothly. “Term begins in a few short weeks, as you may well know, and I must prepare for the students.”

Prepare for the students? That was a load of dragon shit, and they both knew it. Snape’s gaze glinted, challenging her. 

So, this was how he wanted to play things. 

“Of course.” She smiled. “I understand.” She held up the thick encyclopedia in her hands. “Well, I had better go pay for this before the man suspects me of theft. Wonderful to see you again, really.” 

The slightest twitch of his brows was the only sign she had surprised him. Abruptly, he turned and departed the store, leaving a very amused Katherine Clarke to watch the door swing shut behind him. 

“You’re right about the stealin’,” the old bookkeeper grumbled. She caught another whiff of tobacco. “You going to buy it or not?”

“No,” said Kate firmly. “I don’t think I will.” She had too many books as it was. Besides, if she was right, she would soon possess a resource far more useful than a tatty reference book. 

***

In the end, Kate did purchase the book. She had a terrible soft spot for beautiful books that left an even more terrible dent in her Gringotts account. She strode a little ways toward the main street before she stopped, shifted her paper-wrapped package more securely under her arm, and turned on her heel. 

A swift pop, and she appeared once again in a back alley. Blaring honks and the rumble of traffic sounded from up ahead. 

Exiting onto Whitehall, she wove among the pedestrians until she came to a row of black spiky railings that flanked two flights of descending stairs labelled ‘LADIES’ and ‘GENTLEMEN’. She took the stairs to the right and quickly emerged into the underground public toilets. Dim lighting concealed most of the grime on the black and white tiles, and the mirrors that were supposed to have hung above the three sinks were respectively cracked, nonexistent and spattered with a brown substance that looked suspiciously like spit and chewed tobacco. 

Merlin, did everyone enjoy tobacco? 

Despite being the main entrance to the Ministry, the Whitehall public toilets were quite disgusting, and the only reason Kate could think why they wouldn’t perform a few simple cleaning charms on the place was that it kept Muggles at bay. In all the years she had used the toilets, she had only ever seen four, perhaps five Muggles wander in. They had been chased out by the unsavoury sight, or else quickly Confounded and sent back overground. Today was no different. Of the dozen or so people queued up by the stalls, all bore some sign of being a Ministry employee. 

Dawlish nodded at her from the next queue over. “Alright there, Clarke?” 

“Just popping in for a quick chat with Scrimgeour,” she returned. 

“Thought you were out on assignment.”

“I was.” She stepped forward in the queue. “Quite productive, actually. Lunch break?” she asked him. 

He nodded and patted his stomach beneath his beige suit. “Genevive came ‘round.”

“What about the baby?”

“Helen’s with Gen’s parents.” His wiry brown hair looked grey under the flickering fluorescent lights. “I’ve got a holiday next weekend, so they decided to come down for a fortnight.” 

“Excellent.”

Dawlish stepped into a stall. “It will be, as long as my mother-in-law quits smoking,” he called. “Terrible for Helen’s lungs, I told her.” There was a flushing noise and he was gone. 

Again, she thought. Again with the tobacco. 

It wasn’t long before Kate joined the throng of Ministry workers ambling toward the golden gates at the far end of the Atrium. The crowd was much thinner than the morning rush, however, and within minutes she was striding into the Auror Headquarters on Level Two. 

Dawlish had gotten there before her and was already settling in his cubicle, a small mountain of paperwork before him. He adjusted the framed picture lovingly placed in the corner of the cubicle -- a smiling brunette cradled a pig-tailed toddler, both perched atop a broomstick -- then set about dipping his quill in ink to begin the first page. 

“Oi, Clarke -- ” Gawain Robard twisted around in his chair, “ -- look at this.” He gestured at a chubby faced witch with cropped pink hair. 

The girl grinned cheekily and squeezed her eyes shut as Kate turned to watch. The enormous mane seemed to sprout out of her very neck; bushels of tawny hair laced with grey grew and grew until they framed the girl’s face like a lion’s mane. The girl brought her hands up to her eyes and formed two circles, like glasses, and set her lips into a deep frown. 

Kate snorted, then broke into a laugh as the girl growled in a spot-on imitation of the Head Auror. 

“Brilliant, eh?” Robard gazed at the girl proudly. One half of his face was gnarled with raised white scars. 

“Stunning,” she laughed. “Though I’m not sure Scrimgeour would appreciate the comedy.” She wracked her brain for the girl’s name… Tina… Tink… Tory, was it? 

The girl flushed and brought her hands down. The mane retreated. “Bloody terrifying, he is.”

“Who -- Scrimgeour?” Kate asked. 

She nodded, her hair turning to an apple red. “You know, I was getting myself some tea from the break room the other day -- adding my milk and sugar and everything -- and he appears next to me and he says -- ” the girl deepened her voice, imitating him, “ -- ‘Ought to use less milk. Have a mind to save the budget.’” She leaned against Robard’s desk. “I wasn’t quite sure what to say. He seems to hate me most out of all the A.T.s.”

Robard propped an arm on the back of his chair. “Well, there are only two of you. The man’s got to pick one, hasn’t he?”

Kate frowned. “Only two Trainees? I thought he hadn’t finished sorting through applications. Didn’t he have seventy some odd left?” 

“Dunno.” He ran a hand over his close-cropped black hair. “Anyway, I’ve got a pair of missing twins to find.” He spun back around in his seat. 

“Godspeed.” The Auror Trainee’s hair bloomed back to an offensive pink. 

Kate could distinctly remember meeting the girl not a week ago when the two A.T.s had first stepped foot in the Headquarters. After all, it was difficult to forget meeting a metamorphmagus, especially one with hair that rivaled the most garish of Valentine’s cards. But she could not, for the life of her, recall the girl’s name. 

“Can I get you anything, Ms Clarke?” the girl asked, stepping out of Robard’s cubicle. 

Kate had the sudden, fleeting image of a hook nosed, sharp faced man sneering at her over a cauldron. She hadn’t been addressed as ‘Miss Clarke’ for six years, and now… twice in one day. “Just Kate,” she said. “Er -- actually -- could you… ” She gave a small laugh. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Tonks,” said the girl brightly, offering a hand to shake. 

Kate took it gratefully. “Welcome to the Auror Headquarters.” She smiled. “Where we discuss murders over tea.”

Tonks grinned, and her hair turned yellow. 

Merlin’s pants. The girl was like one of those Muggle mood rings. 

“Is Kingsley in?” Kate asked. 

“Don’t think so. I saw him dragged out by a group of Obliviators ‘bout an hour ago. A little irritated by the looks of it.”

Then he’d have to wait, she decided. Time was of the essence. She bid Tonks a quick goodbye and wove to her own cubicle to set her package down. 

Kate’s cubicle, directly across from Kingsley’s, was cluttered. Very cluttered. A pair of reading spectacles rested lens-side down atop various open books. An unopened Chocolate Frog sat beside a red case folder labelled ‘BULWARK/GOLDHORN’, from which various photographs and documents threatened to burst. A marked map of London’s warehouse district was pinned to her cubicle wall, and next to that a rather crude drawing of a gnome Ginny had recently gifted her. Kate bent to pick up the scraps of parchment that had fluttered to the floor, set adrift by colleagues sweeping past her desk. 

Someday she would find time to tidy everything up. Someday, when this whole decomposing stomach debacle was sorted. 

She made her way to the back corner of the room where the Head Auror’s Office was located. Kate knocked softly on the door. The blinds looking out toward the cubicles were drawn. 

“Enter,” grumbled a voice on the other side. 

Scrimgeour’s office was rather dark; grey storm clouds twisted and gathered in the windows behind his desk, pregnant with heavy rain. He scribbled a few last words on a lavender coloured memo before it folded itself into a neat paper aeroplane and zoomed out the door just as Kate closed it behind her. 

“Clarke.” Scrimgeour fixed her with a steadfast gaze, his mouth turned down in a deep frown. A pair of wire-rimmed spectacles sat low on his ridged nose.  “What’s the matter? Something gone wrong with one of them victims?” 

“No, no,” she said. “Conditions unchanged, last I heard.”

“Comatose.”

She nodded. “Fortunately. Or they’d be in quite some pain.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“The St Mungo’s task force isn’t working fast enough to save them -- Bulwark and Goldhorn.” It was the truth, plain and simple. 

“Aren’t they?”

Kate approached his desk but did not sit down; she rested her hands on the back of the chair before the table. “It’s been made very clear that they’ve only got a list of three possible poisons. Three, sir. It’s been a week and a half. Therefore,” she steeled herself, “it is my hope that, with your permission, I may bring the Potions Master Severus Snape in as a consultant on this case and work on an antidote myself.”

“Severus Snape? What -- the Death Eater?” His tone was incredulous. 

“Former Death Eater, sir.”

Scrimgeour huffed a laugh, shaking his tawny head. His maned head looked too large for his rangy frame. When he saw that Kate’s expression was quite unchanged, he stilled. 

She took the chance. “He is a brilliant Potioneer. A specialist in his field. In fact, I believe his knowledge of poisons and antidotes surpasses even that of the task force’s.”

“With all due respect, Clarke, you can’t expect me to believe that you and Severus Snape can produce an antidote faster than the task force. They’re a group of highly skilled Healers. They’ve studied poisons for years.”

“And with all due respect to you, sir, you have never been taught by Severus Snape.” Her straight, stubborn brows drew together. 

He opened his mouth as if to say something, revealing small rows of snaggled teeth. He let out a suppressed sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if you weren’t sorted into Gryffindor instead.” 

She ignored the comment. Her feelings regarding her house were muddled, and it was much easier to ignore them instead. Besides, no use crying over spilt potions. “Please, sir. It can only help the investigation.”

“Your job is to catch the wizard, not to cure the patients.”

“And the antidote will help us to do just that. You know it will. The sooner we find the antidote, the sooner we catch the wizard.” Kate released the chair back and slid her hands into the pockets of her trousers. “If you require it, I can have a copy of his professional record owled to you, but that will take time. Precious time I’m afraid the victims don’t have.” 

Lie. She was quite sure she would not be able to obtain a copy of Snape’s record at all. The man certainly wouldn’t provide it willingly. 

Scrimgeour narrowed his yellowish eyes behind his spectacles. “And if, in the end, you find you’ve spent too much time mixing cocktails in the dungeons and the case goes cold -- what happens then? What happens when you find you’ve lost?”

“I won’t -- ”

“Shacklebolt is an excellent Auror, top of the line. But no wizard shy of Merlin himself could conduct interviews, formulate theories, inspect crime scenes, subdue the Prophet, investigate suspects and catch the perpetrator singlehandedly.” 

“But he won’t be, sir. I am in no way deserting him. I’m merely pursuing an alternate method of investigation in addition to the established method.” Kate took her hands out of her trouser pockets. She hastily swept her dark hair over one shoulder. “I’ve had a chat with Kingsley already. He agrees that it would be extremely helpful to have Snape on standby.” Her mouth dried slightly. She tried not to swallow. 

Scrimgeour pulled his frown deeper and inspected Kate for a few quiet  moments. Then his spectacles shifted as his ridged nose twitched in resignation. “Shall I inform him, or shall you?”

Warm satisfaction spread through her chest. “Oh, no, it had much better come from you.”

“Very well.” He pulled a blank sheet of parchment from behind his desk. 

“Thank you, sir.” Kate returned to the door and pulled it open. 

His rumbling voice called her back. “Remind me what grade you received on your Potions N.E.W.T.?”

This she couldn’t lie about. Scrimgeour had her records. “‘Exceeds Expectations’, sir.” 

Scrimegour’s busheled brows lowered. “I see.” The doubt in his tone was unmistakable. “I don’t need to remind you that two lives rest in your hands. However you decide to proceed with the case, whether through investigation or experimentation, will determine whether they and their families receive justice. If you fail, it will reflect poorly on our department.” His yellowish eyes blinked at her in the dim office. “Be careful, Katherine.”

She dipped her head. “Of course.” 

***

Kate had been right about Kingsley. Admittedly, he’d been rightfully irritated at her not having waited until after he’d got back to ask Scrimgeour, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She’d even gotten him to confess that having Snape on hand would be useful. At least he hadn’t given her one of his ‘honestly, Kate’ looks. The last time she had gotten one of those was three years ago when she’d still been his trainee. 

The keys jangled as she inserted one into the lock and opened the door to her flat. The bloody things were a nuisance, but living squarely in the middle of Westminster, it was a necessary sacrifice.

It was dark and quiet inside her flat. Street lamps outside cast a small pool of light by the window. Late night traffic grumbled past; Trafalgar Square never slept. Kate dropped her briefcase by the door and hung the keys on the coat stand. As she passed into the small kitchen, she dropped her linen jacket on the granite counter. 

She had already eaten dinner with Kingsley, working on the case while nibbling on Ministry canteen sandwiches. Four empty wrappers lay crumpled on the table before they had looked up and realised it was nearly ten. But the brain burned nearly twenty percent of one’s daily calories, which meant an extra supper for her after a long day’s work. 

And so it was that Kate rooted around the fridge, the white light casting an eerie glow on her pale face. She spooned down a bit of leftover curry from the Thai place down the street. A quick wave of her wand and the dishes were washed. She crept down the creaky hall to the bedroom. 

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, but all was dark inside. White noise rumbled in the chambers. Kate eased herself through the crack in the door, then shut it behind her. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before creeping to the dresser across from the large bed. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pulled the drawer out, inch by inch. The ancient wood squeaked, loud enough to be heard over the white noise. 

A groan from the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Kate?”

Damn. She gave up and yanked the drawer open the rest of the way. “Sorry to wake you,” she whispered. “I was trying to be quiet.”

“It’s fine. Just got back from work?” His American accent was slightly slurred with sleep. 

“Yes. Kingsley and I had some business to discuss.” She pulled her nightclothes from the drawer and pushed it shut again. 

Mark grunted. Kate could just make out his lean form struggling to sit up. 

She shushed him. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right there.” 

“No, no, it’s okay, baby. I’ll wait up for you.” But he fell back against the pillows and tried to conceal a yawn. 

Kate shimmied out of her work clothes, carefully folding the white shirt and trousers and draping them on top of the dresser. 

“What was the business with Kingsley about?” 

“The new case.” She slipped into her nightshirt. “We brought in a new consultant today.” 

Mark hummed sleepily and dragged a hand up to scratch his beard. She climbed into bed next to him. 

“Come here,” he said. He opened his arms and waited until she settled in to continue. “Who’s the consultant?”

His chest was too high for her head; her neck scrunched uncomfortably when she laid against him. “My former Potions Master.” Kate shifted her arm under her shoulder, then changed her mind and wriggled it out. 

“The mean one or the fat one?”

“Mean one. I actually haven’t heard from the fat one in a while.” She grunted as she shifted positions. “But Tristan says he keeps getting letters from him.”

“Really?”

“Apparently Slughorn wants a special invitation to one of his concerts.”

His beard scratched the top of her head as he looked down at her. “You okay?” 

She removed her arm from under her shoulder for the third time and stilled. “Sorry.” 

“So, what’s the plan with him? Your Potions Master?”

“Not sure yet.” Well, she did have a general idea, but the specifics would ultimately come down to how difficult Snape was set on being.  “How was your day?”

“Good.” He rubbed her back, up and down. “Went to the Leaky Cauldron to get some writing done. Five thousand words and half a chapter finished.”

“Excellent. Has what’s-his-name found the killer yet?”

“Not yet. That’s in Chapter Thirteen.”

Kate laughed softly. “Thirteen, you say?”

“Yeah.” His fingers wove into her dark hair. 

For a few minutes they were silent, white noise thundering over the sound of their breathing and the traffic outside. His chest rose and fell; Kate’s neck cricked awkwardly. 

“I kept staring at our spot at the bar,” he said suddenly. “At the Leaky Cauldron.”

She thought he’d fallen back asleep. “Our spot?” 

“Remember -- the day we met? You were sitting on the third seat from the left end of the bar -- ”

“You remember which seat I was sitting in?”

“Of course. How could I not?”

Kate huffed in amusement. 

“You wore those robes -- I think they were blue, yeah, navy blue -- and you were reading that ratty copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

“And the ring too. Don’t forget the wedding ring.”

She could hear the grin in his voice. “Didn’t stop me from asking you out, did it?”

“Not sure what that says about you, Mark.”

“But I knew it was a fake.”

“Did you now?”

He hummed. “I was people-watching that night. There was no way I would’ve missed something as obvious as that.”

“And yet,” Kate propped her chin on his chest to look up at him, “I distinctly remember you ordering two bottles of firewhiskey, throwing me the worst pickup line, and proceeding to get me exceedingly sloshed.”

“You weren’t that drunk,” he protested. “You were still sober enough to help me with my novel.”

“Well, we both know it only sold so well because of me.”

“Really?”

“Most definitely. The murder mystery wouldn’t’ve been half so believeable if I hadn’t mixed in a dash of first-hand experience.”

He chuckled. “Of course, baby. All because of you.” His arms tightened around her back. His voice was husky when he spoke again. “My life is perfect because of you. So, so perfect.”

She could almost feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She didn’t know how to respond. 

“Sleep, sleep, baby,” he murmured. “I love you.” He kissed the top of her head. “My soon-to-be wife.”

And suddenly the ring on her left hand felt cold as ice. She could think of nothing to say without sounding like a lovesick chit, so she settled for sliding an arm around his stomach. “Goodnight, Mark.” 

He merely hummed in contentment. 

It took less than five minutes for him to drift off again. Kate’s head rose and fell in time with his chest. A powerful snore escaped his mouth. Wrapped in rumbling white noise, she let her thoughts race. 

She’d been wrong before, when she’d thought Snape looked the same. Their exchange had lasted mere minutes, his words, tone, attitude all as she’d expected, but his posture, his body language… Taut, shallow breaths through the nose, fingers gripping his package so tightly they turned white… 

Of course, noticing such details was part of her training, but even without it, she would’ve recognised the signs for what they were -- silent, creeping fear. 

The fear of the unknown. The knowledge that something, at any time, could attack her from anywhere. Like stumbling down a pitch black corridor and feeling a hand latch onto her ankle. 

Merlin. 

Kate slid from the bed. For a moment, she teetered on the edge; she was being ridiculous and dramatic. Crawling back into bed was the right choice, the reasonable choice. Kate watched the sleeping man in the bed, his golden brown hair nearly black in the darkness, his beard freshly trimmed, his chest bare. Her left thumb reached for the ring around her finger. 

Perhaps a cup of tea would do her good. 

The warm beverage didn’t take long to make. Soon, she was cradling the mug in her hands, though not daring to drink for fear of burning her tongue. Waiting a few minutes would do the trick. 

Out in the sitting room, there was no white noise. A siren wined in the distance. Kate leaned against the window frame, looking out over Trafalgar Square. Despite the late hour, pedestrians still dotted the brightly lit square; some gathered around the colourful fountains, while others stopped to admire Nelson’s Column, an imposing Corinthian column upon which sat the Admiral of the same name. He hopped the twig ages ago, but his mark was long since made. 

Kate blew on her tea. The warm steam tickled her nose. Some marks, she knew, never faded. The sight of her former Head of House had only reminded her of the fact. 

Even now, bundled in her soft cotton nightshirt and her hair cascading around her shoulders, she could still feel his hand on her breast. Gripping. Pinching. 

Hyatt Travers. 

Her stomach turned over. She set her mug on the window sill. 

The Death Eaters swallowed Slytherin house like a riptide. She knew, because fighting the current had come with a steep price she’d paid in full. 

Her hands itched in restlessness. Kate picked up her mug again, scraping the rim with a nail. She looked at her knuckles. It was too easy to picture his blood and hers, drops flying from her fist as she’d drawn back to strike him again. The blinding frenzy. His spit in her face, a mouthful of saliva and blood from his broken teeth. 

The scars from that night were still there, faint but clearly visible between her knuckle ridges. 

Mark asked about them once. A rough encounter with an illegal dealer a couple years ago, she told him. He hadn’t suspected anything then, but since then… Her random bursts of resentment were impossible to overlook. 

From the window, Kate watched a couple amble across the Square, arm in arm. The woman turned her face up to his, and the man gave her a chaste kiss. Kate smiled, but it soon disappeared.

When her moods came -- as they inevitably would -- Mark would sit her down on their bed, poking and prodding with this tranquil voice. He was trying to avoid a row, but it was like a bloody piece of plastic wrap smothering her. She tried to contain herself, really, but her voice raised of its own accord, the tears came unbidden, the swell of anger unwelcome. And when he shushed her or pulled her to his chest, she just … she couldn’t. She didn’t want to be quiet. She didn’t need a hug. 

Kate took a large sip of her tea. The hot liquid prickled her tongue. 

Oh, Mark… He would never look at her the same way. 

That night -- her violence -- was a secret to keep. 

***

Loud beeping woke Kate in the morning. She felt better after a quick face wash, but last night’s sleeplessness lingered as she plodded into the kitchen. Mark was seated at the small square table, dressed in only a shirt and boxers. He sipped a mug, transfixed by the glowing picture box pushed against the corner counter. A blonde woman chattered on screen as images of rubble flashed behind her. 

Kate gazed at the box for a long moment; it was called a telephone, wasn’t it? Well, tele-something, that much she knew. “You’re up early,” she said. 

Mark glanced up. His brown gaze swept over her nightshirt clad form. A blush rose in her cheeks.  “I’m meeting Steven and Wilson for some ball at nine. Told you last week, remember?”

She did not. “Football?”

He pushed his floppy brown hair back from his eyes. “They’re muggles. Can’t play Quidditch.”

“Shame.” She spotted a covered plate on the table. “Oh, what’s this? Breakfast?”

“Toast and eggs. There’s coffee in the pot, if you want it.”

Kate pouted playfully. “No baked beans?”

He grimaced. “I will never understand you Brits.”

“No matter. I’m sure I’ll survive.” She gave him a quick peck and settled down to eat. Mark turned back to his tele-box, downing the rest of his coffee. 

She had just finished her toast when Mark interrupted. 

“Incoming.” He was looking out the window. 

With the way the table was pushed against the wall and window, Kate had to stand and move behind Mark to get a look outside. In the distance, above the narrow alley the window faced, two spots flapped toward them. 

“Two owls?” She settled back into her seat. “You know, we’re much too popular to be living in such a busy muggle area.”

“I’m the one paying the rent -- ”

“Just having you on, Mark,” she smiled. “The concealment charms’ll hold up.”

And though Mark’s gaze followed the sweeping path of the owls as they swooped into the alley, to the Muggle passerbys down below, they were nothing more than thin air. Mark pushed the window open. A beastly eagle owl fluttered in, followed by a rather plain barn owl. 

Tied onto the first owl’s leg was a bundled copy of the Daily Prophet. Kate reached over her eggs and untied the string. It took a few tries; several of her nails had broken during a nasty tumble in a duelling simulation a week ago. 

“It’s for you.” Mark slid the letter from the barn owl across to her. 

She hummed in acknowledgement, but opened the newspaper instead. She hoped Kingsley had taken care of the stray reporter. A quick scan of the paper confirmed her hopes: there was nothing about the case. In fact, the only interesting headline read, ‘GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN STILL UNDER INVESTIGATION’, but she gave it no mind. That was Moody’s case. 

“Here.” She handed the Prophet to Mark, then took up the letter on the table. 

The letter was merely a small square of folded parchment sealed with flimsy black wax. Katherine Clarke was written in sharp lettering, as if the author had tried to stab through the paper as they wrote. She broke open the seal. There was no greeting, no signature, but she didn’t need them to know exactly who had sent the letter. 

She couldn’t help it; she snorted. 

Mark looked up at her. “What?”

Kate set the paper next to her plate. “Seems I’ll be visiting Hogwarts soon.”

For, written on the yellowed parchment in a cramped, spidery scrawl: 

Potions classroom. 25th August. 4pm. 

Without Rufus Scrimgeour, if you please.

~~~

Notes: Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. No promises on when the next update will be, but I’m working on it :)

~~~

#severus snape #severus snape x oc #snape fandom #snape community #professor snape #pro snape #hp fanfic #fanfic #original character #auror #auror fanfic #snape x oc #the gold in the abyss #snapedom #ministry of magic

[langdxn]

how different stages of michael, how he raised his child with s/o?

on this day last year, i published my first fic here (things haven’t changed much since sanctum, i’ll admit) so it seems only fair we go back to that fluffy domesticity with daddy!Michael!

Grunge!Michael is an adorable hands-on dad, not wanting to let your beautiful little girl out of his sight for fear of losing his new family. He’s trying his hardest to control his powers around you both, especially as he’s not entirely sure how strong he is yet. You come home to find him visibly seething as he sterilises baby bottles buried under a mountain of laundry and ironing, but there’s something different about the curls tumbling in front of his face today — a glittering silver tiara perched atop them. “I... I can explain,” Michael stutters as he yanks down the royal addition to his mop top and stows it behind his back. “I... couldn’t find her favourite apple juice and she was crying so loud, so I made the refrigerator blow up and now our daughter thinks I’m... Elsa.”

Hawthorne!Michael is starting to realise his purpose in life, even more so when your baby boy arrives to complete your family — now he has a future Hawthorne boy of his own to raise. Naturally, he teaches your toddler all the best spells when you’re not looking, poring over his own study books to find something to really amuse you after a hard day in class. As you bundle back into your family dorm, you discover Michael’s babysitting skills have left him tearing his blonde curls out while your son dangles from the ceiling, chuckling away while juggling building blocks and toy trucks suspended in mid-air. “I know I’m not one for admitting fault,” Michael sighs with a pout as he keeps his gaze fixed on the troublesome boy. “But I really shouldn’t have taught him salire per spatium.”

While Sojourn!Michael may have lost his way in a spiritual sense, the arrival of your daughter brought him back down to earth in more ways than he can imagine. For the first year of her life, your little girl knew her father’s stubbled countenance as her comfort, the way he would graze her cheek with his like sandpaper and the unbridled giggles that ensued. One day, however, he decides it’s time to pull himself together and shave off that five o’clock shadow. Pacing back into the room wiping his fresh face dry, your baby girl bursts into uncontrollable, hysterical tears. Michael’s heart breaks as he races over to comfort her. “Baby girl, it’s me! It’s daddy! You don’t recognise me?” Scooping the crying girl in his arms, he cradles her and coos softly but nothing works until mom walks in. “Honey, our girl thinks I’m an imposter.”

Fire and Reign!Michael may be a busy bee, flitting between Cooperative meetings and Kineros Robotics, but he will always find time to care for you and your little boy, who’s the spitting image of him minus the flowing black coat and inimitable red gloves. Did we mention the Antichrist has an unlimited Disneyworld pass to whisk your little family away for the weekend? He’s still got a mountain of work engagements to attend while you stay in the most expensive suite on site, but as he stumbles wearily into the room after an exhausting day, his tired eyes find you and little Lucifer curled up on the couch still wearing your Mickey Mouse ears as you doze. Silently tiptoeing over to you both, Michael tosses his coat and gloves aside and slumps into the seat beside you. With one arm protectively curled around your waist and pressing sleepy kisses into your hair, the dictatorial bringer of the apocalypse melts back into his true form — a soft-centered, blissfully happy father.

With the apocalypse well and truly under his thumb, Outpost!Michael has all the maturity and command to make a go of being a cruel-to-be-kind father... at least, that’s what you thought when you first discovered you were expecting twins. Fast forward 18 months and he’s careering down the corridors of Outpost 3 with one little boy perched on his shoulders and your daughter speeding ahead of him, a high-speed chase to the library in search of their favourite book. Fast forward an hour and he’s curled up with your two bundles of joy reading them bedtime stories of angels and demons... tales of supernatural events that your children are blissfully unaware once happened to their father, the cuddly daddy whose velvet suits make the perfect comfort blankets.

#michael langdon x reader #grunge!michael x reader #hawthorne!michael x reader #sojourn!michael x reader #fire and reign!michael x reader #outpost!michael x reader #grunge!michael #hawthorne!michael #sojourn!michael #fire and reign!michael #outpost!michael #michael langdon fluff #cody fern fanfiction #ahs apocalypse

[gardensghost]

A Monster’s Awakening

Rated: T

TW: Blood

Words count: 2620

NOTES: ZOYALAI - Pre-King Of Scars. I tried to find anything that was pre-kos, but in vain, so I came up with this, I hope you’ll like it!

Summary: Nikolai’s first transformation

The first night it happened was told to be copious soirée, a gala had started a few hours prior, the Grand Palace filled with guests and servants roaming around. Lucky enough, none were unfortunate enough to encounter the monster ruling this place. 

In hurried steps, Genya had been the one to inform Zoya of the king’s sudden disappearance, interrupting the commander from her short-lived moment of peace, leaving the warm water of her bath behind without looking twice. Genya explained her further as she dried her hair, ‘We can’t afford an ill commander’, the king had been seen entering his chambers but a guard rushed inside when they heard glass shattering and ran to the first Triumvirate he could find.

‘The shattered glass… Did he tell you if it was broken from inside or outside?’

‘Inside.’

In her hastily buttoned kefta, Zoya accompanied by Genya headed outside of the Little Palace. 

‘The guests must not learn about this, I will find him, tell David to search on his own too inside the palace, I’ll take a horse and search outside,’ Genya frowned. ’Are you sure? Shouldn’t we use everybody to find him faster?’ 

Zoya shook her head. ‘No, we’ll find him, he possibly can’t have gone too far, you, you stay with the guests and make sure to act as if everything is perfectly fine and see if any of them has disappeared too.’

The commander knew that the tailor wasn’t truly convinced by the plan but nonetheless she started to march, ready to accomplish her mission. 

Zoya let herself curse under her breath as she mounted her horse, a missing king was the last thing Ravka needed. The main road was desert, she stopped a moment, between the forest and a city half asleep, she let the wind whisper to her ears. 

Some wuthering peace danced in the air, but it was shattered by some ear-splitting shriek. 

Without hesitation, she galloped to the sound of slaughter, her mind racing to imagine what she’d find, her heart praying to the saints for Nikolai to be safe and sound. 

She stopped at a meadow, she saw the tip of a cliff not so far and her dread only grew at the sight. Swiftly, she approached the barn, making sure to be silent and light on her feet. The wind, as always, worked in her advantage and made sure to lift and whip every single leaves in its wake. 

A gushing sound still made it to her ears, Zoya had already paled. She stepped in, the cobblestone was sticky under her shoes, she repressed a shudder, taking it as a hint and already making out conclusions. Her eyes couldn’t distinguish anything in the dark and she relied on her earring to catch anything suspicious, snores, loud bleats, hooves, a grunt… Zoya frowned and stepped further, until she stood right under an halo of moonlight, as if the light on her face was her mark as a target. Another groan, raw and short, animalistic but not one sheep and lambs could make, they even grew more agitated. 

The door of the barn shut.

She whipped around, ready for a fight. 

A big figure stood before her, a pair of red eyes staring, it moved again, and the sheep, terrified, were covering every of its movements until she felt it right behind her. She could hear and feel its ragged breathing, Zoya’s stayed encaged in her throat until the realisation settled in. ‘Nikolai?’

She shouldn’t wait, she thought, she should be sending the creature flying to the wall and yet here she stood, like an helpless little girl, waiting for the big bad wolf to have its feast, surprisingly slow, the monster’s claws clutched the collar of her kefta, tugging it to turn her around, she now faced him, the back of its-or his-hand  still resting underneath her collarbone, sticky fingers against her skin, the creature seemed to notice this too and as if it was poking its food to see if it was good enough, it pressed and placed that same hand on the side of her throat, the claws grazing the nape of her neck. Zoya watched the red eyes gleam at the feel of her pulse against its skin. 

But all she could think about was the gold hair shining under the speck of moonlight. 

With its other hand, it reached for her arm.

Enough, she thought as she emerged from her stupor. 

Zoya sent the monster flying to the wall. 

It let out a deafening screech, meanwhile the moonlight bathed the barn more generously and she finally could perceive more in the dark. 

On its knees, the monster spread its wings in an attempt to intimidate her.

She huffed, ‘Come here, birdie,’ 

Provocation wasn’t perhaps the wisest but it sure give her some comfort. 

She caught a glimpsed of the gory scenery on the floor, a lamb, which fur coated with blood.

‘A nice meal, I hope?’

It groaned in response and she arched a brow. 

Truthfully, she wanted a warm bath and her soft bed, not to converse with a demon king at night. 

She expected more action, but the creature watched her from afar for some time before collapsing on the ground. Out of precaution, the commander waited, see if the monster had the nature of a trickster but at some point she heard snores coming from him and its figure looked less big. 

If it’s the king, he must have turned back to human? 

Carefully, she stepped closer, Nikolai laid on the floor, on his side, head dangling between his shoulders. Placing her hands against his bare shoulders, she started to shake him, quite violently, but that, she didn’t care much. 

Nikolai’s eyelids fluttered open, startled and he frowned, he could barely make out the figure in front of him, an halo of moonlight resting behind the crown of her head. ‘Your Highness’ 

That voice, he could recognise anywhere. ‘Zoya?’ 

He felt her hands on his shoulders, he retained himself from shivering, she forced him to sit up. 

‘Do you recall anything?’ 

He shook his head vehemently, he wanted to throw up, a disgusting taste in his mouth and he felt his body disgustingly sticky. ‘What is going on?’

‘This is something we’ll have to figure out once we’re back at the Palace, my king.’ Zoya pulled him on his feet and lead him outside, not letting him notice the lamb he just ate.

Standing in the meadow and looking down at himself, the confusion only grew further, he was half-naked, like he dressed before going to bed, one detail different, he had not gone to bed covered in blood. Nikolai glanced at Zoya, staring at her kefta, the front tore apart, only held together by her right sleeves, the ruined silk dangled low on her chest and he would have immediately looked away had it not been for the bloody fingerprints on her torso and neck, he looked down at his hands, also covered in blood. The realisation weighted on his stomach. 

He turned away from Zoya and threw up, leaning forward, hands on his knees. 

Zoya grimaced from where she stood, shivering at the sound but she stepped closer to him and touch his back, an attempt at soothing him. ‘Did I-’, he paused to vomit again, ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No, though the lamb can’t say the same thing,’ after a pause, she chortled, ‘well…it can’t say anything anymore.’ 

Nikolai looked at her in disbelief, but his eyes looked down again at the-his-fingerprints, they were nagging him, with guilt and shame, a territory he would have never dared to venture when conscious. 

Zoya watched him, he was practically soaking in blood. ‘There’s a lake near, I’ll explain on the way.’

The commander took hold of his arm, her grasp was light but never faltering, and leading their horse by the bridle. It took a five-minute walk to reach the lake , ‘We need to hurry,’ said Zoya, standing next to him like a stick, Nikolai refused to dive in the water, pleading it was freezing, so he was taking water bit by bit. She rolled her eyes and with a flick of wrist he was prodded into the lake. 

Nikolai grunted, pressing his lips together to prevent his teeth from clattering. Zoya arched a brow as to dare him into wasting his saliva. Instead he, with bad grace, rubbed the blood off his body and got out with his now reddish trousers sagging and dripping.  

Ready to throw a sarcastic comment, the wind did not let him finish and after a few seconds he was fully dried, Zoya mounted the horse, waiting for him to follow. 

‘Just so you know, I’m freezing’, he complained. 

‘And you’ll have a tailor to take care of you while we find out what is going on with you.’ her hands tightened on the bridle, her patience thinning, ‘so get on that horse.’

‘Fair enough…’

Nikolai had never been so close to her, he sat behind her, his chest pressed to her back and his hands on each side of her waist, not daring to go any further. 

Until the horse had to jump across a trunk, Zoya, without a word, pulled one of his hand across her abdomen so he’d have his arms tightened around her; she was his only source of warmth, it was one painful ride, he thought, freezing all the way and the quicker she galloped the more likely he felt like he would unintentionally crush her within his arms.

To ride with a king on the same horse, that should have sounded like the ending of a fairy tale and yet it was a nightmare to do so. She couldn’t go faster as he seemed to fear to touch her yet his tights would prevent hers to kick the stirrups with more force, he wouldn’t stop shaking behind her and she almost wished to be Corporalki, and most importantly, she couldn’t breath when his head was perched over her shoulder and his cold cheek kept on grazing her skin nor when she felt the tip of his nose find its sanctuary in the space between her ear and her hair.

All hail to the Saints, the Palace came into view. 

Zoya couldn’t risk having the king be seen like this, the two got off the horse, she’d let it there, she’d come back for him. 

‘Where are we going?’, inquired Nikolai. He did not recognise the path, what he knew was that they were heading to the opposite of the gates.

‘Entering the palace incognito’, the king’s lips titled upwards, ‘Breaking into our own home? Sounds fun.’

In no time, the two were in the gardens, walking silently to the Little Palace, the closest and an insurance they wouldn’t come across somebody too curious, or chatty. 

But perhaps, the odds weren’t playing in their favours tonight. 

As if on cue, a giggling couple came out from behind one of the bushes, a look of recognition flashed their faces and Zoya couldn’t stop her eyelids to shut in an exasperated manner.

The couple quietly saluted the king and his commander before hastily continuing their path.

Nikolai frowned, looking back at the couple, clueless. ‘Where are they going? There’s nothing there.’

‘Where lovers go.’

His head snapped back in Zoya’s direction. ‘Is it a common place for lovers?’

‘Not really, but it sure is ideal,’ his eyes slitted slightly, then he shook his head, evincing all images of what could happen in those woods, ignorance was bliss.

Quickly enough, Zoya rushed him into her chambers, letting him by himself to fetch Genya and David. 

It was only five minutes and curiosity couldn’t kill him so he wandered around the renovated room, the fresh blue tapestry looked electrical almost, Nikolai noticed the abandoned bathtub, its water gone cold, he felt a pang of guilt, whatever happened to him, he feared he’d steal more of their time over this new-found inconvenience. The king stood in her bathroom, staring at the water and digging in his memories anything that he had done, yet he kept getting distracted by the overpowering smell of wildflowers, it had not been enough during the horse ride. 

He went back into the main room as he heard three pairs of steps coming in. 

The Triumvirate walked in, Zoya with some fresh clothes in her hands, she immediately gave it to him. As they waited for him to get dressed, the trio seemed to be lost in thought. 

‘So…’ Nikolai started, ‘we had an interesting night, didn’t we?’

‘A long one, you mean,’ interjected Zoya. She had switched her kefta for her bathrobe, white silk with dark blue details, Nikolai was unsettled by this, seeing her informal in her own room, it was not a sight granted to the many. 

They agreed they should take care of the matter the soonest, Genya made sure Nikolai wouldn’t wake up with a cold. Zoya seemed skeptical at the temporary solutions they came up with. 

‘Chains? Are you sure this will be enough?’ 

‘No,’ replied David, ‘but with something to knock him out for the night, it might be!’ 

The Durast almost sounded hopeful and enthusiastic, ideas already rising in his mind. 

‘Thrilling!’, Nikolai commented. 

‘Who else should know about his condition?’ Asked Genya, she slightly cringed at her own choice of words. 

Nikolai spoke right after, ‘Easy enough, Tolya and Tamar for start, they could stand me as Sturmhond, they will be able to handle a monster.’

He meant to pass it like it was nothing, but as Zoya watched him, she sensed some uncertainty coming off behind his pretence. And she had the feeling he was acutely self-aware, because seconds later, he blossomed this new shield of confidence and optimism. 

Later, when they all accompanied him back into his chambers, ready to try out how the chains would work out and she was the last one to leave, she told him: ‘You’ve got the right to be mad about this, your Highness.’ 

Zoya didn’t let him reply, she was already closing the door behind her. 

The entire week she was the one tasked to chain him to his bed, this only fuelled the rumours further, the encounter in the gardens had leaked already, this was inevitable but she’d rather have people talk about a romance between a king and his commander than the possession of a king by the offspring of the dark heretic. ‘Are you sure about this plan?’ Nikolai asked, watching her face intently as she locked the cuffs around his wrists. He could get used to it, he thought as he resisted to reach for the dark curls covering her face. ‘Yes, it’s the best option. We can’t let this out, it’s for Ravka’s and your sake.’

She tugged on his cuffs forcefully, making sure it’d resist. ‘Comfortable enough, I hope,’ teased Zoya. 

The corner of his lip flew up, ‘More than I ever been, you should try it someday.’

His commander rolled her eyes however she was amused. ‘Maybe I should.’

His smirk fell. 

As if in search for words, he blurt out, ‘You know, I’m offended they all think I last barely ten minutes.’

Her brows curved, ’And I that I’d be contented with ten minutes.’

When she rose to get out, he called for her, ‘I’m not mad, I’m deflated, I thought the worse was behind.’ 

Zoya turned back to him, ‘We’ll find a way to get this thing out, after all, you’re a king.’

Nikolai smiled slightly, ‘If the great Nazyalensky is hopeful then I already won the battle.’

#zoyalai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #grishaverse #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #nikolai duology #kos #row #rule of wolves #king of scars #writing

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (36) || atz

You plunge into the sea.

For a moment, you twist in the endless expanse of water, arms flailing about as icy cold sea yank every bit of of heat from you. Panic erupts in you as you open your mouth to cry out in shock, but then the same voices from before ring in your ears, more clearly this time underwater.

“Yes…”

“Come to us…”

Your head breaks the surface of the waves and you swim as hard as you can for the sirens’ call. The sea, previously unrelenting, seems to calm just for you, leaving you an easy path right towards the sirens’ rock.

One of them, with a long jeweled tail sparkling in pearly shades of rose and tangerine, reaches a hand out for you, the smile on her face radiant as the rising sun. Two of the sirens at her side with flickering aquamarine tails slide into the water smoothly and swim with the grace of a swan to your side, like dolphins they circle you.

You’re lost in the yearning of their gaze, in complete ignorance the roar of the storm above you and the way the sea is heaving all around you. You are captured by the way their own eyes are a deep sea blue, an endless, infinite depth to them.

Then they attack.

One of the sirens lunge for you, cutting straight through the water like a shark. She clings onto your arm and bites down hard on the skin there, it breaks and pain floods through you, wiping the spell from your mind completely.

What are you doing here?

Suddenly desperate, you thrash about in the water, striking the siren hard in the face and she falls back into the water with a furious screech, her beautiful features twisted with fury and hate. You manage to feel a small bit of elation at having fended her off, but the joy at your success doesn’t last very long.

The other siren speeds towards you like a sword cutting through the waves, his teeth bared in a snarl. To your horror, you can see fangs in his mouth, each razor sharp and perfectly capable of chomping through your arm in a matter of seconds.

There’s no way you can fight something like that off. Instinctively, you raise your arms to protect your face and your eyes squeeze tight, unwilling to look at your own death in the eye as you await the teeth to sink into you.

But it never comes.

Instead, there’s the sound of a gunshot and you feel something warm splatter across your face.

Your eyes fly open in shock, only to see the face of the siren who was about to chew right through your neck in a single bite mere inches from yours. Then you see the musket ball buried in the centre of his forehead, still smoking as a thin stream of clear, warm liquid trails from the hole, his startled blue eyes staring right into yours like you’re the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

And then his entire body crumbles right before your eyes, melting into seafoam and disappearing with the waves.

The other siren screams and lunges for you once more but she’s shot down as well in a matter of seconds. There must be a deadly sharpshooter on the Treasure, because each shot is precise and measured, not a second too late or early. You struggle against the waters, trying to swim back to the ship, but then the siren with the orange tail slides into the sea as well, gliding towards you on the waves with a malevolent gleam in her eye.

Fear shoots through your body. Are you going to die here?

Then a pair of warm arms wrap around you, pulling you protectively against his chest. The blade of a cutlass scythes down at your side, cutting through the arm of the blonde siren as she reaches for you.

The limb falls into the water with a sickly splash.

You shut your eyes tight against the sight, from the sound alone your stomach heaves and now isn’t really the time to be throwing up. Instead, you turn to glance at your saviour, expecting perhaps Yunho or Wooyoung, but your eyes widen from shock when you see exactly who it is.

It’s your captain himself.

“Stay back!” He snarls at the siren, one arm still holding you protectively to him as he treads water, keeping the two of you afloat. The raging sea around you stills at once, falling obedient to the blessing of the sea god upon your captain.

The siren hisses back at your captain as one hand comes up to the empty socket where her arm used to be, clear water gushing from the wound. The threat on her face is clear, from the way her deep blue eyes flicker with raw, primal fury and her fangs resemble those of a venomous snake’s.

“Let her go, you accursed mortal!”

Her voice is more of a demonic rasp now, nothing like the enchanting songbird you had heard earlier, but you understand the words all the same.

Startled shock runs through you. From what you’ve gathered by listening to Wooyoung, the sirens tempt people into the seas with honeyed voices, luring them to their deaths by having them drown in the ocean. But why would are the sirens so fixated on trying to physically attack you instead?

You can see the fight being waged behind her eyes, torn between the desire to rip you from your captain’s arms and rip your body to shreds yet being restrained by something, whether physical or mental you don’t know, but you’re very grateful for it.

Hongjoong begins swimming backwards with you still in his arms, dragging you with him like a sack of wet clothes. The siren moves forward then hesitates, undiluted anger and pain in her eyes as she watches the two of you move further and further from her reach.

She decides to play her last hand.

“If she stays with you, she’ll die!”

Your heart drops in your chest. The storm around you seems to die away, the wind falling silent as that one sentence reverberates in your mind like a chant.

What?

You can feel your captain almost stop moving, hesitant. But then he shakes his head and continues swimming hard for the ship, hands wrapping tight around a rope dangling from the portside and tying both of you to it.

You’re lifted from the sea excruciatingly slowly, your eyes still fixed on the siren. Her gaze never leaves your, a silent plea, fingers of her one remaining hand reaching out for you.

“Please.”

And then you’re back on deck, Seonghwa bustling around the two of you with dry towels as water drips from your clothes onto the deck. You’re shivering, hands and fingers turning pale and bloodless from the cold, blood gushing from your upper arm. You must be flying high as a kite on adrenaline because you feel no pain except for a numbing sensation slowly creeping its way up your limbs, but then your master is rushing to you with a thick cloth to stem the bleeding while Seonghwa dries your hair.

You glance behind you to see Wooyoung at the railing with a flintlock rifle pointed straight into the water beneath, green eyes sharp with focus like you’ve never seen before. He’s as still as a statue, so motionless you would think he’d turned to stone if it weren’t for the way his chest is rising and falling ever so slightly with each breath. The intensity of his gaze is enough to send a shiver down your spine, and even though his face is completely emotionless for the first time you’ve seen it, you can feel the murderous aura radiating from him like heat from a wildfire.

He must have been the one who shot those two sirens.

For a second, you’re reminded of Mingi’s words to you on that beach a few days earlier, words that you couldn’t bring yourself to believe back then.

“He was a dangerous, dangerous man, to the point even I was afraid of him.”

At first, you had merely brushed the description of your mischievous best friend aside as exaggeration. Playful? Sure. A little mean spirited? Well, maybe. But dangerous? Of course not.

But now?

You almost can’t recognise him, and that scares you.

Your captain is heaving for breath as he gets to his feet unsteadily, almost falling over as Yunho supports him by the arm. All of them still have their earplugs in, and with a quick glance at the forecastle deck, you confirm that he’s standing at the wheel steering the ship in place of your captain.

And from the look he gives you, you’re in line for a tongue lashing.

Hongjoong’s one green eye snaps over to you fiercely and you flinch, suddenly fully aware of the gravity of what you’ve you’ve done. You just took off your earplugs after your captain intently ordered you not to at all costs, dived straight into the embrace of man killing monsters and had risked your captain’s own life in the process.

Your head bows of its own accord in shame.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to croak out, feeling your eyes starting to get damp. Seonghwa and San obviously can’t hear the apology as they continue to treat your wound without missing a beat, but your captain continues to stare at you with an intense look on his face.

“Why?”

His voice is stern, not mad like you had expected it to be, and you raise your head to look at him in surprise. He meets your gaze evenly, repeating his question one more time.

“Why did you take your earplugs out?”

At that, you frown in confusion yourself. Thinking back, you were very sure that you had your earplugs in securely, you couldn’t hear a sound after you had put them in. Yet, when you had closed your eyes after Wooyoung had left with Yunho to fix the sail, you had…

Shock descends upon you as you realise exactly what had happened.

You had heard their voices in your head.

As much as you’re glad to have made the discovery that it wasn’t entirely your fault, you’re equally scared about what it might mean. Just like that monster from earlier, right when you had joined the ship… you had heard their calls in your mind... but how?

“They’ll try to bring you back to them at any cost, even if it ends in death.”

Were those sirens… the ones who didn’t understand? Why were they trying to kill you?

“Captain…” You ask suddenly, having forgotten his question a while ago. “The monster that I spotted when I first joined the ship… what was it?”

Your voice is surprisingly steady and Hongjoong frowns at the abrupt change in topic as he sheds the red jacket, freeing his arms. “From Yeosang’s books, I believe it was called the Kraken. A mythical beast rumoured to be a servant of the sea goddess. You had good eyesight, that’s how you spotted it, isn’t it?”

“No…” You trail off in a whisper, terror sinking deep in your chest. You had thought that your identity problem had been more or less cleared up when Yeosang had found out that you were a golem, but it seems a bit more complicated than that. “I… I heard it’s voice in my head. Just like how I heard those sirens even though my ears were plugged.”

Your captain’s eye narrows at your words in disbelief. “You… heard their voices? In your head?”

Barely managing a nod, you stare back at Hongjoong. “What… what am I?”

Your voice breaks at the last word and you’re fighting to keep yourself from hyperventilating. All this is too much, too crazy. Who are you? What are you? Why were the sirens trying to kill you? What are you trapped in? And that siren… she said…

“If she stays with you, she’ll die.”

“Die?”

You didn’t want to die.

Gasps force their way from your chest in shaky, uneven pants as you shiver uncontrollably from the fear. Your captain immediately steps forward, putting both hands on your shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly. Seonghwa and San must sense something in wrong, because they both pull away to stare at you in abject concern, your master eyeing Hongjoong as if trying to communicate without words.

Your captain ignores him, looking you in the eye seriously. His gaze burns bright green.

“I won’t let you die.” Hongjoong says solemnly. You can feel the weight of every word that leaves his lips, and deep within you, you know it is something more than a comforting phrase, more than just lip service to get you to calm down. He truly means every word he says.

Then you nod, because as much as some part of you knows it’s impossible to keep such a promise, you want to trust him. Your fear suddenly fades away, like his words are some sort of magic spell, and you’re stunned to find you’re breathing normally once more, shoulders relaxing under his touch.

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae, are you alright?” San asks you earnestly even though he can’t hear you, concern shining in his eyes as he shakes you a little. You nod back at your master, trying to convey that you’re fine and he wraps you in a shaky hug, not even bothering to ask for an explanation why you jumped into the sea in the first place.

Hongjoong gestures for Seonghwa to remove his earplugs.

The cook finally does so, sighing in relief when he can hear once again. Then he turns to wave at the rest of the crew, signalling that it’s safe, and all of them begin to remove their earplugs, shoulders slumping when they realise that they’re finally out in the clear.

Only Wooyoung remains unmoving at the bulwarks, rifle still fixed at the sea, green eyes unblinking. There’s something dark in his gaze that unnerves you, but you remind yourself that this is gentle, sweet Wooyoung, who risked his life to save you back on Nassau, who gave you the hairpin you treasure so greatly.

You rise to your feet, intending to tap him on the shoulder and tell him that it’s over, but then Hongjoong grabs you firmly by the wrist before you can take a step forward.

You turn to look at him in confusion.

Your captain shakes his head grimly. “Wooyoung’s in a… mood… right now. It’s better if you don’t catch him by surprise.”

Your heart sinks in your chest.

Hongjoong must see your expression, because he simply turns you around by the shoulders and steers you towards the sickbay, telling San to accompany you and heal your arm. “Leave me to it, alright, Chin Hae?”

And you nod, because you can’t refuse your captain, and you throw one last glance over your shoulder as you leave.

Just as the door shuts behind you, there’s the sound of a musket shot.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #jongho #wooyoung #san #mingi #yunho #yeosang #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

[whump-it]

The Bad Thing:  Rory’s Tape Gag

Ok.  Here it is!  The Bad Thing is happeneing and Rory is starting to get whumped!  CW here for victim blaming, self blame, self hatred, whumper playing whumpees off against one another, threatening to whump a woman and a tape gag of course!

Tag time!

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @crowned-avery @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure @girlwithacoolcat @tears-and-lilies @inpainandsuffering @whumppsychology

He was laughing.  It was muted by a hand to his mouth.  Knuckles against his teeth.  But he was laughing.  She didn't dare look at him.  Didn't dare make eye contact for fear that somewhere through the terror and dread, that somewhere in the horror of her emotions, the hated of him might be showing on her face.  Taking that kind of liberty would only lead to trouble. 

Beyond the basement door and blissfully, briefly unaware of the ridicule and hurt coming their way, Rory and Callum carried on talking.

***

"I miss Haz,"  Callum muttered, a slight slur to the words.  A slip at the edge.  He had shuffled over to Rory with an ease born of history despite the fact that his hands were bound behind his back.

"I know," Rory whispered.  He nearly always whispered.  Callum spoke out loud with an uninhibited volume that made Rory cringe away and want to yell at him to shut up.   To be quiet.  To tell him that their situation was precarious enough without him talking at a volume that might attract unwanted attention. 

"The last time I was in a basement I had him," Callum said, matter-of-fact.

"Alyaa had to take him back to her apartment," Rory winced as Callum tipped his head to rest his right temple against Rory's shoulder, which was still bruised from his most recent beating.  "We had to let him go so we wouldn't get hurt."

"Wouldn't get hurt," Callum muttered back, breathing in then exhaling a shaking sigh.  "I miss him.  He's soft."

"I wish I could bring him to you," Rory murmured the words with a tip of his head.  A tilt of his lips into Callum's hair right above where his brain was fighting against him.  "Cal.  We'll get back to him.  You're going to have him again I promise you.  I promise.  I know how important he is to you but if you can just hold on just... just..."  Rory breathed in shaky and unsteady and closed his eyes against the tears that always seemed to be there.  Always just on the edge of falling.  He pushed his face into Callum's curls and let them tickle at his skin.  Let them sweep across his forehead and cheek where he would feel their phantom touch long after they'd moved apart.  His bound hands unable to move the sensation. 

Next to him, Callum shifted.  He moved and tipped his head and carried on until their foreheads met. 

"Cal," Rory said, louder than he meant to, the volume unmodulated by the constriction of his throat against the fall of his tears.  "Cal I love you.  Haz is waiting for you.  He's safe.  He's safe and he's waiting for you." 

***

Ethan snorted and bent forward then breathed in and composed himself.

"Oh that's just precious," he said, his words sneered out over a laugh.  "They're going on about that stupid teddy aren't they?"  He looked at Alyaa, her head bowed and eyes fixed on the ground.  Her hair falling down past her cheek.  "I asked you a question."  The laughter had gone.  Dried up.  It hadn't been funny to begin with.

"Yes," she said quietly.  So very quietly.  "Haz is... Callum's... he's not well."

Ethan looked at her.  Looked and looked until she began to bend under the weight of his stare.  She jumped and flinched when he raised his hand, spinning a roll of heavy duty tape around his index finger.

"Hmm,"  Ethan spun the roll around and around.

"He's not..." Alyaa stopped speaking as soon as she had started.  Her throat cut off her words without her permission, the muscles tightening around the threat of tears.  Callum was ill and Rory was scared and Haz was too far away.

And Ethan had a roll of tape.

She flinched again at the sound of the bolt on the door slamming back, looking up just in time to catch the swift movement as Ethan reached out and gripped at her forearm hard enough to bruise. 

"Time to pay your favourite pair a little visit," Ethan said, pulling her arm to drag her closer.  "Well come on then.  Anyone would think you didn't want to see them."  Ethan smiled at her, cruel and cold, the twist of his lips utterly unmatched by the hatred in his eyes.

Ethan pulled her through the door and into the basement, and she was utterly unable to stop herself from looking straight at Rory.  Straight at Callum.  Glancing back and for between their faces until the weight of her guilt for not keeping them safe forced her shoulders to hunch.  Her gaze to lower. 

Callum looked shattered.  Completely and entirely worn out.  Yet despite that, when he saw her, when he saw Ethan, he had mouthed the word "master".  He had bowed his head.  Across his face, she saw the flash of emotions and memories that had taken only seconds but that she had enough knowledge of to recognise.  He wanted atonement.  He wanted perfection.  He was too ill to know if he was ashamed or not anymore.

Rory looked furious.  And scared.  And he looked at her and Ethan equally before tipping his head back down to touch temples with Callum.  The utter horror that he was protecting Callum from her felt like a shard of ice settling through her core.

"Sounds like someone's missing his little teddy bear," Ethan said, smiling that smile again.  The one that never reached his eyes.  Alyaa could hear Rory's breathing pick up, his teeth clenched as he breathed heavily and just a little too fast through his nose.  She could see his jaw working and she had no idea whether she wanted him to speak or to stay silent.  Each option had the potential to harm all of them.  It was just a question of which of them would pay the highest price.

"Wow," Ethan said, cold sarcasm threading through the word.   "You look really cross.   Really cross."   He drew the words out, stretching them out on a rack of scorn and humiliation, deliberately designed to make Rory more and more furious.

Alyaa could see Rory's breathing speed up in the rise and fall of his chest.  In the flare of his nostrils.  Her mind overlapped on itself on two words.  Speak.  Hush. 

"Damn right I'm cross," Rory said.  Alyaa closed her eyes.  “Where do you get off thinking that any of what you’re doing here is ok?  What the fuck is the matter with you, you sick freak!?  Callum is not well.  He should’ve been in the hospital days ago.  He needs an operation.  You’re hurting him.  You’re going to hurt him.”

"I'm not going to hurt him," Ethan said with a cruel laugh.  "Have you seen him!?  I mean come on.  Look at him.  Why would I hurt that?"  Rory glared back.  "Oh I'm sorry.  Did I speak in a foreign language?  Are you too stupid to understand?"  Alyaa saw Callum's flinch at the word stupid.  He mouthed it silently, eyes downcast.

"I said "look at him"."

"I'm looking," Rory said slowly and quietly.  "At you.  And I don't like what I'm seeing."

Alyaa dared to open her eyes but kept her head down.  Her shoulders up.  She jumped when Ethan ripped a long strip of tape off the roll, biting it off with his teeth and holding it up in front of her face while he pointed at Rory with his free hand.

“That one needs to stop talking don’t you think?”

She held her breath.  The room seemed to buzz with the oppressive silence that followed the statement and the tearing of tape.  She couldn’t move.  She couldn’t make herself touch the tape.  She braved a quick look at Rory beyond the tape dangling in front of her and he looked terrified.  He didn’t have his hands to use, tied up behind him.  He was trapped in a basement and he was about to have his voice taken from him.  He looked like he was fighting to stay upright, fighting against his body that wanted to curl up, and fighting against crying. 

“Well my sweet little nightbird,” Ethan said.  “You have a choice.  Either you take this piece of tape and shut him up,” he jerked the piece of tape a couple of times in front of her. “Or I can shut you up.  You choose.”

“Me,” Alyaa said, quickly.  The need to protect pushed forward in her mind.  Rory and Callum should bein the hospital right now while Callum recovered from surgery.  They shouldn’t be tied up in a basement and she was all too aware that if they had stayed away from her then this would never have happened.  She should have kept them at arms length instead of pulling them down to be damaged along with her. “You...if you want...want...to shut someone up then shut me...shut me up Ethan.”

On the floor in front of her, a sob broke free from Rory, quickly followed by Callum looking over at him, horrified and shushing him in the presence of the person that he believed to be his Master.

“Don’t even, for one moment, think that you can tell me what I want,” Ethan spat the words at her, and she cowered under their weight, shaking.  Trembling.  “Tape his mouth and then, as you’re so keen, I’ll shut you up too.”

“No!  Please Ethan, please.”  Alyaa forced the words out even as they shook with the forced of her body’s shaking.  “Please just me...just...just me.  They didn’t...they...they’ll be quiet,  I promise.  Please Ethan.  Please!”

“Hmm...you see, as much as I enjoy listening to all of this?  It’s boring me now.  Taope his mouth shut.  Don’t argue with me.  Do.  It.”

Alyaa gasped out on the air that she didn’t realise she had been holding.  As she reached with a shaking hand to take the piece of tape she heard Rory starting to plead with her.  Small, whispered out, begging little no’s and pleases.  He was shaking his head.  Saying her name, interspersing it with his begging.  It felt like a physical attack upon her.  It hurt to hear it.  It made her want hinm to stop and she had the means to do that in her hand.  It made Ethan into the winner.  It made her into the villain. 

She wanted to be sick.

“I’m sorry Rory,” she whispered as she knelt in front of him.  “S...sorry.  I’ll be gentle  I’m so sorry.”  As she took the tape in both hands and raised it, she almost choked on the feeling in her gut when Rory mouthed “please don’t” at her, the words silent, the terror stripping him of his voice as much as the tape did when she pressed it to his lips.

His tears fell as she stood back up. 

#whump #whumper #whumpee #multiple whumpees #The Bad Thing #oc alyaa #oc Alyaa Ashiq #oc Callum #oc Callum Morrow #oc Rory Linden #oc rory #oc Ethan #Collection Box #the collection box #tape gag #tape gag tw #trapped in a basement #oc haz the teddy #oc haz #Ethan is as much of a dicksplat as Hayden #ethan is cruel #alyaa is blaming herself #self blame #callum wants haz #callum will be good #rory needs to stop talking

[isimp4yts]

Needing You

draco x hufflepuff!OC

A/N- hi! this is my first chapter of my Draco fanfic that’s on wattpad. It’s called Needing You by isimp4yts. hope you enjoy it! it’s pretty much slow burn and idk if i’m gonna make it spicy yet but it’s definitely gonna be a lot of angst.

Word Count: 1.7k

Talia was woken by her brother, Cedric, throwing a pillow at her while stifling a laugh knowing full well that the ‘attack’ would aggravate her as she wasn’t really a morning person. As she groaned into the pillow that was thrown at her she sat up a little bit, throwing the pillow to the side.

Glaring at Cedric she barely grumbled, “I was just about to get up you know” and dangled her legs off of her bed reaching for her slippers.

“Yeah, sure you were, either way you’re up now. Come on dad wants you to hurry up and get ready, he doesn’t want to be late”, he said with his voice echoing more as he walked out of Talia’s room.

So that’s what she did, she got dressed and brushed her long brunette hair trying to control the fly aways. Of course there was no need to make too much of an effort in her appearance as she could sort herself out at the Quidditch World Cup when she gets there. She went downstairs and saw her father holding two backpacks, knowing one was hers and Cedric with his own backpack already on.

“Come on darlin’, we have to get there on time, we don’t want anyone to be waiting on us do we?” her father said while rushing her out the door, with Cedric, giving her her backpack.

~~~

Talia, Cedric and her father were waiting in a woodland area for some friends of her fathers to meet up with them, well Cedric was sitting in a tree. The boy couldn't sit still for the life of him. Talia kept switching the weight from each leg as they started to get tired, from waiting for so long. In the distance some voices could be heard and Amos stepped forward, greeting the voices.

“Arthur! It's about time son” Amos says to a ginger man with several people following, Talia recognised all the people behind the man but one, however she had never really spoken to any of them even though three were in her year. The ginger man whose name must be Arthur apologised for their lateness and introduced her father to the others. Talia smiled at the three who were in her year, giving them a small nod.

“This is Amos Diggory everyone, he works with me at the ministry”, Arthur explains then moves to gesture Talia just when Cedric jumps down from the tree making her flinch and slap his arm. Arthur reaches his hand out to Cedric for him to shake it, saying “And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?”.

Cedric lets out a small laugh at the compliment, as does Talia, just what he needs, more fuel to his growing ego. Although Cedric is seen as a sweetheart to most, he truly is a nuisance to his younger sister when he wants to be.

“And of course Talia, you must know the kids since you’re all in the same year” Arthur smiles at her, also reaching to shake her hand. Talia smiles sweetly at him taking his hand and simply nods at the older man.

“Merlin’s beard, you must be Harry Potter” Amos says while stepping towards the brunette boy with glasses. Talia knew him purely from the gossip that goes around Hogwarts, apparently the first year he was there he saw You-Know-Who and the second year he killed the Basilisk. All with the help from his friends Ron and Hermoine, to which the students gave them the name ‘The Golden Trio’. Talia stopped listening to their conversation, eager to get going, the group of wizards and witches walked up a hill looking for the portkey, which was a boot. They all held the boot, while Amos counted down. When he reached three Talia felt her head spinning then she let go and gracefully made her way to the ground along with Arthur, Amos and Cedric, while the others landed with more force. The young girl looked at her surroundings while taking a deep breath of air, using portkeys always made her lightheaded. She turns to see Cedric helping Harry up and the boy taking his arm with a smile and thanking him.

The group started making their way to a large field with several tents and Arthur exclaimed “Welcome to the Quidditch World Cup!”. Talia, Cedric and Amos separated from the rest of the group to get their tent ready. The three went inside the tent which was larger on the inside with a bunk bed for the siblings and a normal bed near it for their father. Talia sighed and threw herself on the top bunk bed while shouting “Dibs!” watching her brother shake his head as he headed towards the bed, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto his sister's face.

“Dad! Did you see that! Icky tried to suffocate me with that hideous jacket of his!” Talia shouted, trying to get her father’s attention but failing as he waved his hand at her while he was putting on the kettle, showing that he couldn't bother with the siblings bickering.

“I think you should stop calling me that childish name now Lia, since some people consider me to be rather strapping”, Cedric responded with a cheeky smile. Talia stuck her tongue out at him then climbed down the bunk bed with Cedric’s jacket and proceeded to shove him and his jacket into the bottom bunk and then run away. Cedric jumped back up almost immediately, chasing after his younger sibling but he wasn’t quick enough as she had shut herself into the bathroom catching her breath.

“I knew that comment would go to that big head of yours, do you really want that forehead to get bigger since it looks like that’s where your ego is?” Talia joked while looking at herself in the mirror and patting down her hair.

“Big talk for-”

“That’s enough from you two. Talia come out and have some tea, you too Cedric, I really can’t be dealing with the both of you pissing about” Amos says as he unlocks the bathroom door with his wand pushing Talia out.

The two siblings giggled at how quickly they managed to annoy their father and sat down to have a cuppa tea before they got ready for the Quidditch game. Both the Diggory children misplacing each other's belongings while doing so.

~~~

The Diggory’s went into the stadium, to find their seats when they saw Arthur and the others also looking for their seats. They could hear Ron asking how far up they were when an arrogant voice could be heard from below them. The Diggory’s went to catch up with the Weasley’s and Co. when they saw Lucius Malfoy making a comment to the lot.

“Father and I are in the minister’s box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself” a voice next to Lucius said. Draco Malfoy, quite the peculiar child, found it incredibly entertaining to make others' lives miserable with snide comments on anything from their appearance to their upbringing. Harry, Ron and Hermoine gave him a cold look, while Talia just stared blankly at him. She didn’t really have a problem with Malfoy since they were partnered together in Potions in second year for a project. Of course at the start she wasn’t too fond of the boy but she didn’t want to judge him from the way he treated her and everyone else in first year, she knew people could change. A problem with Talia was how she was very optimistic and gave almost everyone too many chances to prove themselves to be a better person. Draco also wasn’t too fond of the hufflepuff at the start, as she was too happy all the time and it made no sense to him that someone could be so joyful. But the two warmed up to each other, well as much as Draco can warm up to someone, he didn’t pester her and was no longer mean to her. In fact he didn’t really say much to her unless it was related to schoolwork. What neither wanted to admit was they found each other rather interesting as they both lived such different lives and treated people so differently, they didn’t realise people like the other existed. They both had mutual respect for each other as they went on with their lives both being studious and having their separate friend groups and going on with their lives without bothering one another.

Lucius snapped at Draco telling him to stop boasting, and put his head down with a grim look on his face, brows furrowed. The elder Malfoy then told us to enjoy ourselves and went off to the minister’s box while Talia and the others made their way to their seats. Cedric nudged his sister while they continued up, and said “pleasant bloke that Malfoy is isn’t he” to which Talia replied “which one?” and snickered at her remark. After being blessed with the presence of Lucius Malfoy she understood why Draco was, well Draco. She decided to forget about the encounter and Draco’s interaction with his father and got herself riled up for the game.

~~~

After the game Talia decided to go to bed early since she was exhausted from all the travelling she had done that day, but the early night didn’t seem to happen since she was shaken by Cedric so she’d wake up.

“Icky, piss off would you-”

“Get up now, we need to get out of here” her brother interrupted her, his eyes wide. She sat up and saw her father worrying and telling them to hurry up. Cedric pulled her down and held onto her arm running as fast as he could into the woods, dragging his sister with him. Their father barely catching up to them, Talia kept looking back to make sure he was still behind them and that they didn’t lose him and saw black figures flying in the air. Cedric finally stopped, pulling his sister behind a tree and signalling his father to join them as they all crouched. Cedric noticed his sister shivering and he didn’t know if it was from fear or being cold. Either way he engulfed her in a hug making sure she was safe while looking at his father who looked back at the field trying to figure out who caused the attack.

“Dad, do you have any idea what that was?” Cedric questioned while trying to calm down his breathing.

“I have no idea son” Amos replied then placed a firm hand on his daughters shoulder to try and comfort her.

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #cedric diggory #robert pattinson #tom felton #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco angst #draco fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #cedric diggory fluff #hufflepuff #slytherin #ravenclaw #gryffindor