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spaceyaceface · 11 months

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You Were The First

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never known affection. He has never known how it felt to love---to be loved. She came and changed all of it.

Or, Ominis gets love because by god does he deserve it.

Warnings: Mentions/Implications of child abuse

God, I loved writing this. Thank you so much for the request, anon!

When Ominis Gaunt fell in love, he fell slowly.

It was all the little things she did—the little things that made up who she was. Her kindness. Her patience. Her touch.

Before meeting her, touch meant nothing but pain. It was kicking and screaming as his mother dragged him along by his arm, harsh shoves from uncaring hands toppling to the ground, a cruel hand curled over his own, taking any control he might have and forcing a curse out of him.

He’d been avoiding it ever since. Even Sebastian and Anne knew his aversion, careful not to grab him or brush against him.

But somehow, she made his walls come tumbling down.

Perhaps he started to fall that first time she saved him a seat at breakfast.

It was one of the first breakfasts of their sixth year—the Great Hall was bustling, students running back and forth to catch up with friends and share adventures from over the summer. That was exactly what Sebastian was doing; he could hear his friend’s loud laugh as he spoke to someone at the Hufflepuff table. He’d expected her to be doing the same, her popularity as the Hero of Hogwarts was unmatched. Surely everyone would want to know what she’d been up to.

He’d just settled on the idea of grabbing an apple off the table and leaning against the wall well out of harm’s way when a voice called out to him. Her voice.

“Ominis! Ominis, right here, I’ve saved a seat for you!”

His mouth fell open—just slightly. “You… you saved a seat…?”

“Yes, now get over here before Sebastian barrels past and steals it, I wouldn’t put it past him,” she said, smile obvious in her voice.

And so he obliged.

He settled down on the bench, all thoughts of retreating to some far corner vanishing as she began to rattle on about her summer. In turn, he answered all her questions about his own time, best he could with the way his head was spinning. Of everyone in the school, she had saved a spot for him. She allowed him to take all her time, steal away every morsel of her attention. There was a lightness that came with that thought. A warm feeling he couldn’t quite name—not yet.

But now that he’d felt it, he knew he’d starve for it.

The next step into his descent was the first time she placed her hand on his arm.

Herbology was always a bit chaotic—not nearly as much as Potions, no thanks to a certain Gryffindor—but chaotic nonetheless. Professor Garlick had laid out all the necessary tools and supplies on each table, and after her brief explanation on how to prune and shape the plants in front of them, she set them loose.

Sebastian stood to Ominis’s right, grabbing some small cutters and starting on his plant quickly.

“Sebastian, you’re making a mess of it already. She said to start from the top and go down, didn’t you hear a word she just said?” a voice said from his left.

Ominis chuckled. “Since when has Sebastian ever been one to listen to anything?” He reached forward, grabbing his own cutters. He heard his friend grumble under his breath. “Don’t pout, you know I’m right.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not offended by it,” Sebastian said.

“You’re offended by everything, Seb,” she said.

“What is this? Attack Sebastian Sallow Day?”

“No, but I’d be an avid celebrator if there was such a thing.”

As Sebastian continued mumbling complaints, he felt it—her hand, just barely resting on his arm. “Sorry,” she said softly, leaning forward and across the table. “I’m just grabbing the fertilizer.” And then her touch was gone.

It was nothing. Just a simple indication that she was there, making sure a blind man didn’t accidentally stab her with a sharp object. And yet it felt… different, somehow. His skin was tingling as he tried to resume his work with the plant. It was only later he realized that, unlike so many times others had made a similar motion, he hadn’t flinched or pulled away.

In spite of himself, he sort of wished she would do it again.

He came to a realization the first time she explained a Quidditch match to him.

The realization was thus—she was even more kind than anyone he’d ever met. It was her very first match, and she had been elated to attend after Professor Black had announced the continuation of the sport at the beginning of the year. Normally, Ominis wouldn’t care too much about it. He rarely went to matches in previous years, only being dragged along by Sebastian when Slytherin was up in the running to take the cup. Crowds weren’t his thing. And trying to understand anything that was going on based solely off the oohing and ahhing of a crowd gave him a headache. But this year, Sebastian was making his debut as Slytherin’s Keeper, and that paired with her excitement to see the match was enough to draw him out to the stands.

They sat next to each other, nestled into the crowd of Slytherins eagerly anticipating the game. He could only imagine how high up they were—there had been plenty of stairs to indicate it was nothing insignificant. The breeze that high up was cooler, and Ominis was grateful for it, allowing himself to focus on it instead of the people pressing in all around him.

But when the match started, his focus shifted entirely to the soft voice next to him.

In the past, he had always found the commentary on the match entirely unhelpful, and even more uninteresting. He could never get a picture of what was going on—the announcer would always press opinions on players and use the names of the different plays, which was ridiculous because Ominis had no clue what any of the plays meant.

She, on the other hand, explained it all wonderfully.

She wasn’t perfect—not even close, stumbling over words and gasping at times when an action surprised her. But for the first time, Ominis could follow. He found himself cheering, breath catching as he heard the whoosh of a broom overhead. The tone and expression in her voice was so lively, so dedicated, he wanted to take part in it.

“Weasley’s flying fast toward the goals,” she commented. “Blimey, he should be Seeker with that speed. Imelda’s flown into his path, he’s going to crash—No, he dodged her, straight over her head—he’s throwing the Quaffle, come on Seb—YES!”

He let out a cry of celebration as his friend beside him whooped and hollered, cheering loudly for Sebastian. It wasn’t long until they won the match, and the crowd of Slytherins roared like a raging sea. He followed her out of the stands and into the common room, where a party was already commencing. Sebastian managed to break away from his adoring fans. The Hero of Hogwarts leapt up and nearly pushed him over in a wild embrace. Sebastian laughed.

“You were wonderful out there!” she said, pulling away.

Ominis could hear the grin in his friend’s voice. “I couldn’t let your first match be a disappointment, now could I?” His feet shifted, turning to Ominis. “And really, Ominis, thank you for coming. I know Quidditch isn’t your favorite.”

“If I’m honest, I rather enjoyed myself,” he said. He nodded his head toward her beside him. “This one has a knack for explaining the game. She told me enough that I can sincerely say, well played.”

“Then seems like you’ll have to go to all of the matches together,” Sebastian said.

Ominis frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t want to impose on—”

“No, I like that idea,” she said. His heart beat a bit faster. “I want you to be able to enjoy it just as much as the rest of us, Ominis.”

He couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the night. When Sebastian asked about it, he blamed it on having too much Butterbeer.

When he let her lead him by his arm that very first time, he knew he trusted her.

He’d known for a while—but now, through his actions, he had admitted it to her. To himself.

Winter had set in. The two of them left the Three Broomsticks, bundled up and ready for the cold. He reached for his wand, pausing when he heard her speak up beside him.

“Your hand is going to freeze holding it out like that all the way to the castle. I can lead you, if you’d like.”

He pondered it for a moment—only a moment—and then he gave in.

“If you think it’ll keep me from getting frostbite.”

He sucked in a breath as her arm looped around his. How had she done it so gently? After a second, when he’d begun to breathe properly, he nodded. “Off we go, then.”

It was strange, how he had surrendered so easily. When he had first gotten his wand, the world finally felt livable. He no longer had to shuffle around, arms outstretched, waiting for his brothers to jump out at him. He could fend for himself. Prove his independence. There was no longer a need to rely on anyone.

Why did he rely so effortlessly on her?

The truth came to him with a sudden thought as she took him through the streets, navigating expertly through the throng of students returning to the castle. He trusted her. She had always looked out for him. Cared when he felt no one else did. She made efforts to be around him, to involve him, even when he tried to push away. Ominis Gaunt did not trust easily. But she had proved herself worthy of that sentiment in every turn.

The slight tug of her arm in his jolted him back to that moment. “We’re at the stairs,” she said quietly. “There’s six of them.”

He’d trust her with his life.

They seemed to walk closer and closer together as the castle drew nearer. It was the cold, he told himself. Just the instinctual craving for warmth drawing their sides together. Simple as that.

But they still walked arm in arm through the halls of Hogwarts, leaving the excuse of the chill and snow far behind them.

The first time she held his hand, he finally felt alive.

Their sixth years had come to a close and the Hogwarts Express was waiting to take them home. They’d spend the last few months in what he considered bliss. They stopped looking for excuses to take each other's arms at some point—just letting it happen. Strolls on the castle ground. Between classes. Anywhere and everywhere they went together. Sebastian teased them a bit at the action, but Ominis claimed it was just easier than using his wand. He didn’t have to concentrate on a spell while walking about. It was true—but really, it hadn’t been inconvenient the five years before that, had it?

But now his dear friend gave a low sigh beside him. “This crowd is awful,” she said, glowering at the students around them. “I don’t know how we’re going to make it on the train in time.”

“I’m sure we’ll be—”

He stopped mid sentence, feeling her fingers interlock with his.

“I think I see a path, come on now.”

She nearly tipped him over as she pulled him along. He managed to remember how to walk just in time to catch himself, allowing her to lead him through the hustle and bustle around them. How did this feel so entirely different than being led by her arm? How could he only focus on how soft the skin of her knuckles felt under his thumb? How could he feel like he was dreaming, but never felt more aware in the same moment?

They stopped in front of the train, doors open before them. She didn’t let go. Neither did he. But the train let out a whistle, and the sound brought him back in an instant. Their hands dropped, and the loss of the intimate feeling of her fingers between his knocked the air out him like the perfect Depulso.

“We made it,” she said softly.

“Barely.”

She laughed. He might as well have been a fish for how much he was struggling to breathe. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, voice softening.

“I wish I could say the same,” he said, smirking. He felt her hit his arm, stifling a laugh.

“You’re awful.”

“You’re the one who laughed.”

“Goodbye, Ominis,” she said, still chuckling. After a moment, she spoke again, a little quieter. “I’ll write you.”

His stomach flipped. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Then she was gone, taking part of him with her.

He knew he was in love the moment he got her first letter.

What was it some fool had once said? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? What a load of dung.

Absence made the heart ache so much it nearly killed him. And it had only been a day.

He knew it was from her the moment the lingering scent of her perfume hit him. He smiled. She kept her word—he had never doubted she would. He was just relieved she had done so so soon.

Quickly, he pulled out his wand and transfigured the words on the parchment, running his fingers over them. He paused where she had written his name. Every letter filled him with warmth as he poured over the short letter.

Dear Ominis,

I realize we only saw each other yesterday, but I wanted to assure you it wasn’t an empty promise when I said I would write you.

I really don’t have too much to share—my mother was more than pleased to see me, of course. Wailed when I came home as if I’d come back from the dead. She’s still not used to me being away for so long. I’ve just begun unpacking, and honestly, it just makes me wish I was back at Hogwarts with you and Sebastian.

How are you? I do hope you’re alright. I worry about you going home, you know. I can’t help it. I’ll be inviting both you and Sebastian to my home as soon as I’m settled in—please do survive until then.

Yours,

He closed his eyes as he felt her name beneath his fingertips. She was worried about him. She’d be inviting him. The warmth and elation he felt was so unlike the cold halls that surrounded him. He could survive—he’d do it for her.

How she could make him feel happiness—hope—in a house so tainted with pain was beyond him. He never would he have thought he could have a moment of something good there, a memory worth keeping after he abandoned the place.

Finally, he had a name for that warmth, the one that overtook him every time she crossed his thoughts. Love. Deep, profound, and lasting. It was more than he could have imagined, overwhelming and pure. How could he have lived to this point without it?

He read the letter once more before pulling out his quill and beginning to write.

The first time he thought she might feel the same coincided with the first time she laid her head on his shoulder.

She had kept yet another of her promises. It was only a couple of weeks before he was off to her house, finally free from the suffocating marble halls of the manor. His escape lasted only for ten days, but it gave him what he needed to keep going.

Though being with her was definitely what fueled him the most.

Laughing with her and Sebastian made the stress of being around his parents melt off of him much faster than he would have imagined. Their ten days had been full of exploring the woods around her house, of playing Gobstones, of laying in fields and telling old stories.

Ten days of her hand brushing his as they sat together. Ten days of catching his breath when she spoke. Ten days of falling harder than he ever thought possible.

Because now that he knew what it was he was feeling, it was there in everything she did. He was drowning in it, and he’d stay under with a smile on his face.

Sebastian bid them farewell on that final evening. Ominis would be gone back home in the morning—he tried desperately to push that thought away, focusing instead on spending every moment with her he could. They’d wandered to the overgrown park not far from her home, coming to rest on a bench hidden away in the trees. Crickets sang around them, and Ominis basked in the cool summer night by her side.

“Are you going to be ok when you go back?” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

He gave a small smile, one he hoped was reassuring. “I’ve lived this long. Two more months will be nothing.”

She sighed. “It won’t be a full two months. I’ll make sure of it. If you can’t come here again, we’ll go to Sebastian’s.”

“You worry about me too much.”

“I think I worry just enough,” she stated simply.

Her words made his chest time. How could he ever begin to explain what they meant to him? She cared for him. It was enough to shatter him if he let it. He couldn’t say what he wanted to—not yet. He’d find a way, someday. But he told her what he could by reaching for her hand, locking their fingers together. And when she leaned into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder, maybe, maybe, that was her way of saying she understood.

His stiff body slowly relaxed against hers, and he thought about nothing but the slow draws of her breath, the way her hair tickled against his jaw, the love he felt for the angel of the girl sitting pressed against him.

The first time she held him he fell apart.

Their little trio had stayed up late in celebration of their last school year, playing Exploding Snap well into the night. The Undercroft echoed their joyous sounds as the hours passed by, until Sebastian pulled himself away, saying he wanted to pay a visit to the Restricted Section for old time’s sake. It wasn’t long until she and Ominis were saying their goodnights to each other.

It had been a perfect last first day, exactly what he’d needed after spending so much time at the manor. He’d left for what he was determined to be the last time. There was no better way to celebrate.

He could think of no better way of ending it than saying goodnight to the girl he loved.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, a small smile on his lips.

“God, I missed you,” she breathed. “Goodnight, Ominis.”

But before he could open the door, her arms wrapped around his chest.

The result was immediate. His heart raced, and his throat grew tight. He couldn’t breath—how could he, with her holding him so tightly? Her head was against his chest, and for a split second he was afraid she might pull away when she heard the pound of it. It was that moment of fear that brought his arms around her, holding her to him like he had nothing left.

It felt like dying when she pulled away from him. She sucked in a breath. “Ominis, are you alright?”

“What… what do you—”

“You’re crying.”

She was right. He felt the tears, now, traitorously running down his face. He quickly brought up the sleeve of his robe to wipe them away.

“Is it something I did? I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He took a shuddering breath. “I just… You’re the first person who’s ever…”

Ever what? There were a million ways he could finish that sentence, and all would be true. The first who had ever held me. The first who has ever cared so deeply. The first to touch him with nothing but kindness. She was the first person to break down his walls, to give him life, to let him love and be loved.

Somehow, she seemed to understand his silence. She took him into her arms once more, and he let himself come crashing down. Sobs worked their way through—both sadness and joy mingled together in an utter mess of emotion. How could he have gone his whole life without this? Without feeling safe, without outstretched arms to run to? But he had found it. A person he could call his home, who would hold him when he fell apart. He was grateful. So grateful.

They never went back up to their dorms that night.

He was determined today would be the first time he kissed her.

Since that night in the Undercroft, every touch between them felt natural. Part of their beings. He came to her effortlessly, letting his arms pull her to him. His hand felt foreign when it wasn’t in hers. But yet, he had yet to confess the depths of his feelings for her.

He knew exactly why—she was patient. They’d started this whole thing nearly two years ago now. She’d always gone at his pace, waiting for him to be ready for each new step. They didn’t need to say the words. It was obvious to both of them. But Merlin, he wanted to.

She needed to know just how much she meant to him. The joy she brought into his life without even trying. It had been a long time coming, but now, he was ready.

He’d taken her out to Hogsmeade. It was the perfect spring day—cool breeze carrying the scent of Butterbeer clear out of the Three Broomsticks. The sun was just beginning to set, and they were on course to return to the castle when he stopped her.

“Could I take you somewhere?” he said softly.

“Of course,” she said, a little perplexed. He smiled, taking out his wand to guide the both of them, other hand still in hers. He led them down a path, then turned sharply into the woods. The trail he followed was light barely there, mostly grown over by foliage. But he heard the sound of the creek and knew he was close.

The trees gave way into a small opening, the melody of water trickling just beyond it. He smiled.

“It’s lovely,” she said.

“Good. I hoped it would be.” His wand returned to his pocket, and he took both her hands, facing her.

It was her turn for her breath to catch. It was only fair after all the times he’d done so because of her. Did he look as lovesick as he felt?

“You are everything to me, do you know that?” he said softly. His hand reached up, following the curve of her neck up to her jaw, where it came to rest. “Everything.”

“Ominis…”

The way she breathed his name sent shivers through him. And her breath on his lips—Merlin, how had he waited so long?

“I love you.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond—he’d let her say it soon enough. But he needed to prove himself to her, show her just what he meant when he said everything. His lips came crashing down against hers, and at that moment he decided every second not spent kissing her was a second wasted. Like everything about her, she was gentle. She was warm. She was soft. Like everything about her, he couldn’t get enough. He thought he’d give her a chaste kiss, but he was only a man, and a starving one at that.

He only pulled away when his lungs felt like they would burst, and his chest heaved under her resting hand.

“I love you,” she said, voice hoarse. “God, I love you.”

He decided that night would be the second time he kissed her, too.

After that he lost count.

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt imagine

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lexsssu · 5 months

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Beast (Dion Agriche)

TAGS: Dion/Dragoness!reader, pining, pervy thoughts, breeding, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

This place felt…sad.

The towering manse was objectively magnificent and yet an air of gloom seemed to envelop the very air that passed through the exquisite halls. Though perhaps it could be attributed to the unmistakable metallic scent that hung heavily within almost every corner of the estate.

Whether it was the main courtyard, the gardens, or from deeper within, the darkness that settled over the entire structure was like a shroud of death that beckoned victims to fall into the sweet embrace of oblivion. It’s only through luck however, that they can either meet a swift end or a drawn out and miserable one.

Judging from the melancholic or downright pained expressions upon the ghostly specters that roamed the area, it’s safe to say that this was a place of great suffering and tragedy. None of the actual living occupants could see them, most especially that man whose soul harbored an impressive amount of corruption for a human. No matter how many angry spirits clung to him in hopes of dragging his soul straight out of his body in order to enact their just revenge, each death done or ordered by his hand only seemed to further the taint.

It’s almost as if he drew power from the lives he’d stolen.

He wasn’t the only one who attracted the attention of the restless souls. The man’s children who tried to follow in his footsteps also had a trail of bodies before them even before they could be called adults. Even one of his wives, a seemingly spritely woman with doll-like features, took lives as easily as getting rid of unpleasant pests.

In conclusion, this family is as cursed as the land they had stained with rivers of blood over the years.

Much to your surprise however, not every Agriche shared a penchant for senseless murder. One of the eldest living daughters (Roxana) only had a single ghost following her and even then, the ghostly image of the teen boy didn’t seem to want to tear her limb from limb like all the others. Rather, he followed after her much like a puppy who only wanted to keep up with her pace. Sadly, the blonde never seemed to take notice of the boy who bore remarkably similar features with her even as he tried to reach his hand out to touch her.

For she lives within the plane of the living, while he now resided in between life and death, unable to move on due to regrets or some other unfinished business you didn’t know of.

The question is…are you content with staying as a mere observer?

The blonde youth perks up the moment he realizes you can see him, sheer relief brimming from every pore within his spectral body when you speak your first words to him. He is rich with the secrets Lante Agriche fights tooth and nail to prevent from ever seeing the light of day.

A lonely boy becomes lonely no more and a displaced dragoness finds that becoming lost wasn’t too bad when you have good company around you.

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Dion doesn’t dream.

Considering the amount of blood that stained his rough hands, it is better that he only descends into nothingness whenever he rests his eyes, for one could only imagine what horrors lay in wait to torment him for all the atrocities he’d committed. He’s not afraid of the ghosts of his victims, but rather finds it useless to think of flames that had already been snuffed out when they could no longer influence the living in any way.

But then something changes.

He feels a soft, warm touch that gently traces the length of his nose, cups the sharp angles of his face, and even delves into his dark locks. Though his eyes remain closed, his own subconscious supplies him with the image of hands much smaller than his own large ones that poked and prodded at him without fear.

While he would have caught the appendages and mayhaps stuck a knife into anyone who decided to lay their hands upon him, Dion knows that this could only be a dream because who would even dare to caress him so gingerly in the middle of night within the Agriche’s own manor? If anything, he finds his dreamself to commit to memory the feeling of such a gentle touch being bestowed upon him, because rationally he knows that he has no need for softness. In the confines of his own subconscious however, he supposes that he can allow himself this at the very least.

When he wakes up at the crack of dawn, it is to open windows with its blinds fluttering as the morning breeze makes its way to his room, bringing with it not just the familiar scent of iron that seemed to permanently surround the place he’d grown up in.

Though he cares not for flowers specifically, he does have knowledge on their practical uses such as poisons and the like. He also prefers knowing the native flora and fauna of the hunting grounds he’d be thrown into in order to get a better grasp of the terrain.

Blooming honeysuckles make his brows furrowed in confusion despite his stone-cold exterior, confused as to how and why such a scent overpowered the ever present iron tang in the air.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Dion remains oblivious to the shared laughter between a woman with ivory in her hair and a boy whose eyes reflected the deep, bright expanse of the open sky as they watched him stick his head out of his windows to locate the origin of the oddity.

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

“YOU...”

“...Me?”

Dion feels his body practically burning from the inside-out, his heart beating several miles per minute as he finally gets a good look of the poltergeist that haunts his nights. He remembers the tender touches you press against his skin, the warm caresses that leave him gasping for breath and his loins aching for sweet release by the time he’s released from your clutches once dawn has broken.

He does not need your sweetness.

He has no use for your gentleness.

And yet he craves it.

He has never desired anything.

He has never felt so strongly about anything other than the swish of his blade, the gurgling of his victims, and the blood splattered against the ground as another mark of his martial prowess.

And yet you drove him to become more of a feral beast than he ever was as he now wished for nothing else other than to possess your whole being just as you possessed him without even meaning to.

“...are MINE”

Your surprised squeak is music to his ears, the flush on your cheeks pleasing the beast that sought to have you pressed down on the ground and taken ruthlessly, flooding your fertile womb with his virile seed...

To be continued(?)

#lexsssu writes #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #dion agriche #dion agriche x reader #dion agriche x you #dion agriche x y/n #deon agrece #deon agrece x reader

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reysdriver · 10 months

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Can I ask a Steve Harrington x shy!reader where she has a locket that represents him (like the initial SH) and she always wears it but under her shirt so that no one can see? One day, Steve comes home to find her asleep, he smiles and leans to kiss her but then finds out her little secret. Just fluff:)

steve finds a sweet surprise when sneaking into your bedroom to see you — steve x gn!reader fluff

warnings: none:)

words: 1.1k

a/n: this was supposed to be a little tiny blurb idk what happened lmao but I hope you like it!

Steve was supposed to be there at 11 o’clock sharp.

He had promised you that as soon as the arcade closed and all the boys were dropped off at home, he’d be sneaking up into your room without a sound. ‘Like a ninja’ were his exact words; and maybe it was your fault for assuming ninjas were punctual.

You had given him a little grace period, maybe twenty minutes where he could come and you wouldn’t be upset with him. An hour after that ended, you decided you weren’t even going to wait anymore. If Steve was willing to wait that long to see you, he could wait even longer.

You decided to change into a pair of pyjamas instead of staying in your normal clothes all night and then get ready for bed. After turning out your lights and closing your curtains, you tucked yourself in and quickly fell asleep.

Unluckily, Steve had arrived just a few minutes after you dozed off. He cursed himself quietly when he saw your curtains drawn—already knowing you’d be pissed at him for being late—then tumbled over your windowsill since he was using one hand to palm away the hanging fabric. As he was climbing, he noticed you were asleep and was shocked that you stayed in your state despite the thud he made when he hit the ground. He was thankful you didn’t wake, though; he didn’t want your morning grumpiness on top of your anger at him for not showing up on time.

When he walked towards your bed, a smile graced his face at the closer sight of your peaceful figure. He wondered what you were dreaming about, and of course he hoped it was him.

Steve crouched down to plant a kiss on your forehead before pausing and contemplating what he should do. He pondered staying, but he didn’t want to be the kind of creep who sneaks into girls’ beds when they’re sleeping—even if you were dating. Then he thought about sleeping on the floor, but he didn’t want to deal with back pain when he’s already on his feet all day. So, he decided that he’d write a nice note, promise to take you out for a make-up date tomorrow night, then leave the same way he came.

He sauntered over to the desk across from your bed so he could borrow a pen and piece of paper, then carefully avoided picking the stationery he remembered you calling ‘the expensive stuff’. Personally, he doesn’t understand why anyone would buy writing supplies when they were always just laying around somewhere, but he didn’t judge you.

Steve started the note out by addressing it and drawing no less than five hearts around your name. Then he got straight to the apology. He wasn’t sure how much he should say, so he just told himself that he’d explain, apologise, and promise to make it up to you until his hand started cramping—and he did just that. He signed his name at the bottom of the page, then capped your pen and thought about where to put it.

His first thought was to leave it on your pillow, but then he got worried about you smudging it in your sleep and not reading what he wrote, so he went with his next thought of your nightstand. He would leave it by your alarm clock, leave, then you would find it in the morning and all would be okay. But a shiny object on the night table caught his attention and delayed his plan.

You always wore a gold locket, but you never showed the inside to anyone. All your friends had tried to guess, saying everything from a magazine cutout of Rob Lowe to a single brown m&m, but you never revealed it.

And now here that necklace was, right in front of Steve, and he couldn’t resist looking. As worried as he was that you’d be mad at him for peeking, he told himself that you’d never find out and it was only a tiny peek. So, he placed the note on the nightstand, and swapped it for the necklace.

As tough as the decision was on whether he should look or leave it alone, the locket itself was actually quite easy to open. And once he saw the picture, his heart swelled at least two sizes and he wished he had looked before now.

It was a tiny black and white picture of him that was cut out from the school newspaper. He remembers the exact photo, too. It was his last meet with the Hawkins High swim team, and he had tried harder than ever to win. After finishing the half mile distance a second before the rival school, he was completely exhausted.

Your boyfriend came out of the water, and barely got to sit down for a minute before some skinny sophomore had come up wanting to take a picture of him and the rest of the team for the school paper. He had initially told the kid the buzz off, but you had reminded him how hard he worked, and that this might be the last time he ever gets to be in the newspaper, and he reluctantly got up to pose with the rest of his peers.

He smiled quickly, then went back to the bench to sit with you, grumbling about how he probably looks like he’s about to pass out in the photo. You laughed, but assured him that you saw his smile and he actually looked like a million bucks.

He tried arguing, but you fed his ego by reminding him a million times of how pretty he always looks and that the picture was no exception. A few days later, the paper came out and you pointed it out as soon as you saw it.

“See?” You said with a sigh. “The hottest Hawkins High swim champ ever. I’m gonna keep this forever, it’s such a good picture of you.”

Steve didn’t know you actually kept it for this long. He honestly assumed you threw it out the next day, and he certainly didn’t expect you to keep it after graduation. He stroked the edge of the locket with his thumb and wondered when you put the picture in the locket and just how often you looked at it.

The smile on his face wasn’t going anywhere at this point, and it likely wouldn’t leave until he fell asleep.

He closed the locket and put it back right where he found it, then leaned down to push the hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He whispered a ‘goodnight, sleep tight, baby’ and walked across the room to crawl out through your window.

Steve wouldn’t tell you about what he saw tonight, but he was sure he’d never stop thinking about it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things #stranger things fluff #xena's requests

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abyssruler · 2 years

Text

cyno x gn!reader

Cyno thinks his ears must not be working properly.

“You… what?”

You smile, a jittery sort of twist to it that belies your excitement (or nervousness and apprehension, his ever-suspicious mind supplies).

“A date, um, this Saturday, and you have to be there,” you tell him with all the seriousness you can muster.

He doesn’t understand why he has to be present for your date, but he has no complaints about it. Any man or woman who tries to woo you should be held under the utmost scrutiny to decipher any hidden agendas. (Deep within his mind, he already knows that no matter how perfect they are, he will always find fault with them simply for being the object of your affections.)

So he agrees to meet you at the meeting spot you designated and resolves to thoroughly observe whoever it is that managed to capture your heart under his nose.

✧

It’s been four hours.

Four hours of roaming through stalls, mindless chatter with merchants, arguments ensuing as his sharp eyes and even sharper tongue called out any seller who tried to scam you with their wares, combing through the streets and buying any food that managed to catch your attention.

Four hours — and your date is nowhere to be seen.

There isn’t a hint of distress on your face, however. If anything, you look content, biting happily into the fried skewer you recently bought as you strolled beside him at a leisurely pace.

Another hour passes — another hour of being dragged by his wrist to look at a group of dancers and laughing at street plays and doing anything and everything but being on a date with the mystery person who managed to inflict such a sheepish yet soft look on your face when you mentioned your date to him days ago.

He can’t bear the suspense of it anymore. If your date has tucked their tail between their legs and run and left you hanging, he will see them punished. You look far too calm, but perhaps you’re disguising the hurt that must linger after being ditched without warning.

So he pulls you aside and voices out the question that has been on his mind since the moment you grabbed his wrist and started pulling him along.

“Where is your date? It’s been hours since the agreed upon meeting time and they have yet to show their face.”

You blink at him, confusion painting your features. He frowns at that. You must be covering for them, hiding away your pain so he wouldn’t get mad as he predictably would and go after whoever it is that left you.

(A look of dawning understanding blooms on your face.)

No matter. Even if you try to hide their identity, Cyno can use his resources to discover who it is. It’s an abuse of his power, but he reasons that it is a perfectly justified use of the connections he has as the General Mahamatra. To let such a person roam free, a person who turns back on their word without so much as a warning, he won’t let that go unpunished. Cyno will—

You burst out laughing, hands clutching your stomach as you bent over to catch your breath. He ignores the way his heart quickens at the sound of your laugh, instead looking down at you with a disapproving frown.

“Laughing isn’t going to make me forget this slight against you. Tell me who they are so I can—”

“You dummy!” You gasp out, still breathless from your earlier laugh. There’s a wide smile on your face, the streetlights of the Grand Bazaar illuminating your face and casting it in an almost otherworldly glow. “Did you really think I liked someone else?”

You step forward, leaning in so close he could almost smell the lingering scent of the cologne that you tried on earlier at one of the stores. Your mouth opens—and this is the part where his ears stop working.

“You’re my date, silly!”

The intimate gesture of holding his wrist, hand-feeding him food, the pleased look you’ve been sporting all day since he arrived at the meeting spot…

Oh.

Perhaps he really is a dummy.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #genshin cyno x reader #genshin shorts #gn reader #serious x airhead

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nightingale2004 · 3 months

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Severus Snape daughter headcanons

Slytherin all the way.

There was a debate with the sorting hat between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but the hat landed on Slytherin

Severus taught her German and Russian

Has a pet cat

Was taught how to brew potions as a child

Skilled in occlumency and legilimens

Severus would've definitely taught her some fight moves he learned from Tobias to defend herself along with defense spells to protect herself if necessary (one of the rare good things Tobias did for Severus)

I feel his daughter would have a photographic memory

If his daughter was born before the war, then she would've met Regulus as a baby but didn't know a lot about him other than what Narcissa, Lucius, and her father told her (all good things)

Growing up, Severus didn't tell her a lot of his past, but every time she was in the Malfoy's care or Charity and Aurora's care, they would tell her all the embarrassing school stories of Severus (Severus would neither confirm or deny the stories) but they leave out the marauders of their stories (she knows about them, they always let it slip during their stories)

Educated in both the wizarding and muggle world

She definitely inherited the famous Severus glare and sharp tongue

Middle is Eileen, and Severus talks about his mother sometimes but not much

She would definitely be a bookworm

Similar to Severus, she would have an interest in potions and DADA

She and Draco would have definitely seen each other as siblings from their parents

I feel like she would be respectful and nice to house elves and would hate the abuse they face (she scolds her uncle Lucius about hurting Dobby every time she sees it)

Her and Hermione would have a school rivalry since they are both the smartest girls in their houses. But they respect each other and their intellect

If wolfstar had a child or children, then you can count on some bad blood between them (who knows... maybe an enemies to lovers)

Severus and McGonagall taught her how to dance (quite fabulously, if I may add 👌💃)

Sees Minerva as a grandmother figure (you can't tell me that McGonagall wouldn't lover her as her own)

If she had an Animagus form, it would be a cat or Raven

Her Patronus would be a bat or a cat

Has respect for the Weasley twins but will not hesitate to turn their pranks against them if it's aimed at her father, Draco, or herself

Likes Molly and Arthur but has notes on their parenting

She and Ron like playing wizard chess with each other (she beats him every time, and Ron always wants a rematch)

I feel like she would be a bit relatable to Stiles Stilinski (has ADHD, OCD, A LOT of sarcasm, and is stubborn. Wonder where she gets that from) "I mean no. Do you want to hear it in German? Nein". "I'm 140 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, ok? Sarcasm and magic are my ONLY defense."

I feel like a lot of people would be afraid of her because she is Severus's daughter

She and Luna, I feel would get along because of her creative mind and unique way of seeing the world (she would also scare off Luna's bullies)

She makes her own spells, potions, and magical objects (mad scientist mode)

Not a big fan of quidditch but supports Draco

Brains of the operation

Hates Sirius on sight and is OK Remus.

She will not hesitate to hex or murder Sirius if he continues to insult her family (she is very difficult to restrain)

Feels like Harry's babysitter for always helping him survive on his adventures

She knows Remus when she was young due to his visits to her home to pick up his supply of wolfsbane from her father (so she knows he's a werewolf)

Often scold Draco if his insults go too far.

If her dad was a part of the death eaters and she was told, she would be shocked, upset, and angry but if he told her about the double agent part then she would be more worried for him

All I got so far. Enjoy my lovelies

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scary-grace · 18 days

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Expiation - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (cross-posted to A03)

This is a birthday gift for @sophsiaaa based on a suggestion of a fantasy AU Shigaraki x reader. Happy birthday (although it's definitely a bit late)!

You hear the rumors long before you see him, but the story of his arrival is told to you so many times that it’s etched into your head. It was a beautiful spring day, the fields surrounding the castle bright with wildflowers, the air humming with butterflies and bees – the kind of day on which nothing bad is allowed to happen. And then the world went still. The sun seemed to dim. The air fell silent, empty of insects and birds, and even the flowers cringed away as he led his horse past, walking so slowly that it seemed he knew his presence poisoned the world, and reveled in it. The dark knight, the one they call the White Death. Shigaraki Tomura.

The rumors are terrible, and most of them are true, but no one finds the High Kingdom unless they were meant to be here. You remember the day you stumbled out of the Forest Perilous, last of a party of dozens who had all set out together, the only one to reach the castle. The castle chose you, the same as it chose everyone born outside the walls who now resides within. The same is true of Shigaraki Tomura – Sir Tomura, or Lord Tomura, anything but the dread title he’s earned on the battlefield. There is some purpose to his presence here, although neither you nor anyone else can imagine what it is.

Most knights come to the High Kingdom with squires and servants, hauling supplies and gifts and finery to please the king. The White Death comes alone, and bears no gift – no gift other than the one he’s rumored to have tossed at King Izuku’s feet. That rumor is terrible, too. But it it’s true, it means that Shigaraki Tomura crossed a line no one else had dared to touch – in taking on the King’s fated enemy, the man prophesied to destroy the High Kingdom, and slaying him himself. Tearing down his armies himself. Singlehandedly wrecking a prophecy that has hung over the Kingdom’s head since it was first spoken, a prophecy of death and destruction that would bring a mighty kingdom to its knees.

And you suppose it did. After all, the prophecy, never said it would be your kingdom that fell.

King Izuku offers Shigaraki Tomura a seat on his council, over the objections of the rest of the council. Shigaraki Tomura accepts. And then the question turns to where he should be house, and what level of opulence is appropriate for his room, and because the gods hate you or because you’re just unlucky, you’re assigned from all the servants to help him decorate it. To create a dwelling space fit for a hero, meant to house someone who cannot be called anything but a villain.

You knock hesitantly at the door, struggling to balance the heavy wooden chest you’re carrying at the same time. When that fails to produce a response, you call out, your voice thin as it echoes through the deserted wing of the palace. “Lord Tomura?”

The door unlocks with a sharp click, then swings open, and you suck in a breath. You heard he had magic – most in the High Kingdom do, you included – but it’s considered crass to flaunt it for things that could otherwise be done by hand. You step through the door into a large, empty room. The only features in it are a window without a single pane of glass, an armoire with doors gaping open, and a canopy bed bare of both canopy and sheets. The infamous white armor is piled in the corner of the room, along with the white sword his enemies call Decay. The White Death himself sits on the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t look away from the spot on the wall where he’s fixed his eyes. “What do you want?”

“My Lord.” You bow, or curtsy, or do some awkward mix of both at once. It doesn’t matter. He’s not looking at you. “I was sent to help you put your room in order.”

“This is fine.” Shigaraki Tomura’s voice is flat and icy, devoid of anything but apathy. “The window is a nice touch.”

You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. You would be, if you were a knight and not a maid. “The window will be fixed, my Lord. In the meantime, I was sent to arrange the rest of your room. I’ve brought many things for you to choose from.”

“Many things.” He looks up at last, and you catch your breath at the sight of his crimson eyes. It’s all too easy to imagine his enemies freezing in terror, those eyes the last thing they saw before the darkness closed in. “That chest is too small for many things.”

“It’s larger on the inside,” you say. He raises an eyebrow – or he would, if he had them. “Do I have your leave to show you?”

“If it’s the case that you won’t leave me be until you do.” The White Death looks away, and you come a few steps closer. A few steps, and then a few more, until you can set the chest down within his eyeline and kneel down to open it. “What is that?”

“No one could tell me what you preferred, so I brought some of everything.” You were hoping to avoid being berated. You’re starting to think that’s unlikely. “There are sheets for the bed – and choices for the canopy, also. These are for the walls – most knights have tapestries made of your great deeds, but you’ve only just arrived. They won’t be ready for a little while.”

“Great deeds,” Shigaraki – Sir Tomura – sneers. Your ears burn. “Yes, I’m sure the weavers are lining up to chronicle mine.”

“If you say so, my Lord.” You lift out a set of curtains – curtains, for a broken window. Whoever left this for you to deal with, you hope they catch the plague. “Er, the window –”

“I didn’t say so,” Sir Tomura interrupts. You look up at him. “I have done no great deeds. It is no honor to be on your knees at my feet.”

“Pardon me, my Lord. I never said it was.”

You shouldn’t have spoken. You bow your head hastily, but not before you see a flash of interest in the White Death’s eyes. “A punishment, then. Tell me, who did you displease?”

“Nor did I say it was a punishment.” You’ve already gotten yourself in trouble. You may as well explain. “It is my duty to serve the nobles of the High Kingdom. You are one of them. And you’ve done the kingdom a great service.”

“I didn’t do it for you. Or for your wretched kingdom.” Sir Tomura is looking at you, still. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your shoulders, the exposed curve of your neck. “I might have destroyed your kingdom just as easily.”

You know that. It’s why everyone fears him, why a man with a lean, slender build casts such a long shadow. “Then why did you choose his?”

“You both wronged me. He wronged me worse.” Sir Tomura goes silent for a moment, and you dare a glance up at him. His face is still, the sneer long-gone. “And because you wronged me, too, you must suffer my presence. In honor of the great deed I have done.”

Now he sounds bitter, mocking – but not of you. He’s looking at you again. “And what terrible deed have you done, that you do not fear to raise your eyes to me?”

“Is that a requirement for meeting your eyes, my Lord?” It strikes you as an odd thing to say, when any other knight would remark on your temerity at gazing upon any noble’s face. “I did not come here to pass judgment on your deeds. I came to make your room a fitting place for a person to live.”

“Indeed,” Sir Tomura says. “But unlike the five maids who preceded you, you have not fled from the sight of me. Why?”

You would answer him if you knew, but you don’t. The rumors of him terrified you, the same as everyone else. You were frightened as you knocked at the door, frightened when you stepped into the room, and even though he’s weaponless, you have no doubt that he knows dozens of spells that will kill you where you stand. There is no doubt that the man in front of you is the White Death, the terror of battlefields across the known world, the ruination of a kingdom most thought would stand forever and the slayer of a king most thought could not be killed and the destruction of a prophecy that went unchallenged for a hundred years. You should be terrified, just as you were before, and you’re certainly wary. But you aren’t frightened any longer.

The White Death is waiting for an answer. “If I had an answer, I would give it, my Lord,” you say. You look away and begin to unpack from the chest. “Does my Lord have a preference as to colors?”

“No.” Sir Tomura’s voice carries an odd rasp, whether he’s scornful or not. “Do what you want.”

So he’ll allow you to complete your task. You wonder if the five maids who apparently preceded you tried to hold a conversation, or if they simply ran away the instant he opened the door. Some part of you wants to decorate his room in bright colors, something cheerful, but you don’t have the sense that he’ll appreciate it. You’d be better off giving him something to look at, since he spends so long staring off into space. You choose fabrics in muted colors, woven with small illusions here and there, patterns that move and change in response to the human eye. It’s likely that Sir Tomura will spend a lot of time here. He doesn’t seem to like people very much. His room should at least be a pleasant place to be.

When you’ve covered key portions of the walls, leaving space for the inevitable tapestries, you move on to laying out rugs. The stone floors in the castle are cool in the summer, cold in the winter, and Sir Tomura’s feet are bare, his boots kicked into the same pile as his sword and armor. You don’t have as many choices with the rugs. They are nothing but bright colors, woven together from scraps of fabric, and you lay them out hastily, hoping he continues to prefer staring at walls to staring at floors. Then you turn your attention to the armor. It needs to be stored properly, and there isn’t a stand in the room.

You turn to face Sir Tomura and find that he’s already watching you. “If you give me leave, my Lord, I’ll retrieve a stand for your armor.”

“It can stay where it is.”

Most knights pride themselves on their armor. Most pride themselves too much. “Won’t it rust?”

“Until it crumbles away. I don’t care.”

You don’t understand. “Sir –”

“It’s no use to me any longer.” Sir Tomura rises from the bed for the first time and crosses the room, moving with catlike grace. He lifts the breastplate from the pile one-handed and holds it out for you to inspect. You can’t miss the problem – it’s been cleaved almost in two by a single strike, torn apart as only cursed steel can do. “It can’t be fixed.”

“The best smiths in the world work here,” you venture. Sir Tomura scoffs. “They reforged One For All, and that sword was broken into nine pieces.”

“Yes, we’ve all heard the story. Good King Izuku gathered the nine pieces of One For All and proved he was the rightful king.” The disdain in the White Death’s voice is withering. “The rightful king, but not a good one. The king before him was worthless, and the queen before him, too – they let their greatest enemy grow and prosper, throughout their entire reigns.”

“They fought back,” you protest. “Queen Nana was killed fighting him – King Toshinori was badly wounded –”

“And King Izuku never tried,” Sir Tomura sneers. “In spite of their goodness, they turned away. They were too good to do what had to be done, so it fell to me to slay the monster and tear down his throne.”

Sir Tomura wasn’t mentioned in the prophecy. Why would it fall to him? “And look what I’ve done,” he continues. A harsh laugh tears free from his throat. “Spared a kingdom of cowards and fools from destruction they deserve only slightly less.”

The questions bursts out of you. “If you despise us so much, why did you come here?”

“This kingdom owes me a debt,” Sir Tomura says. “I have nowhere else to go.”

You have nothing to say in response to that. You expect Sir Tomura to look pleased at silencing you, but he doesn’t. “Receive a stand for my armor if you wish it,” he says, and you depart, feeling sick to your stomach.

The White Death’s words cling to you as you search for a spare armor stand. What had to be done. What could he mean by that? What would the White Death do that the good kings and queens of your kingdom wouldn’t try? The answer occurs to you at once. Dark magic. Magic that corrupts the mind and soul, magic that leaves cursed wounds and blighted lands in its wake. Of course the kings and queens of the High Kingdom would never do such a thing. But if that was what it would take to end the Enemy’s reign of terror, then maybe –

It’s not your place to decide such things. You find a spare stand in the armory and cart it back to the deserted wing of the palace, only to be accosted on the way by the tailor Hakamada. “You’re attending him? Good. These are for the feast tonight.”

He thrusts a package into your arms, even though your hands are already full. “Ensure he wears them. His presence is an affront, but he’ll be properly dressed if it’s the last thing I do.”

Given that Hakamada isn’t the one forcing the new clothes on Sir Tomura, it’s more likely to be the last thing you do. You set off again, struggling under the weight of both the package and the stand at once.

Sir Tomura seems surprised that you’ve returned, but he doesn’t mock you over it – yet. He allows you to set up the stand, and to begin to store his armor properly, although he refuses to allow you anywhere near the sword. “It’s cursed,” he says, even though you didn’t ask. “Once it tastes a victim’s blood, that person is doomed to wither and rot. Did you know that?”

“I heard rumors,” you say carefully. “There are many rumors about you.”

“They aren’t rumors if they’re true,” Sir Tomura says. “Almost all of them are.”

It doesn’t surprise you that the White Death knows his own legends. “Which ones aren’t?”

Sir Tomura doesn’t answer. He’s investigating the package from Hakamada, which you set down on the end of the still-unmade bed. You, meanwhile, find yourself transfixed by the tear in the breastplate of his armor. It’s been split nearly in half. You lean closer, paper and fabric rustling behind you, in order to peer at the edges of the breastplate, the padding inside, and a needle of shock and fear drives itself through you. All of it is stained with blood. “My Lord –”

You turn to find yourself facing Sir Tomura half-dressed, in clean breeches and bare feet, having just removed his shirt. His bare skin is laced with scars, some old and some newer, but none so terrible as the enormous wound in his chest, so fresh it can barely be called healed. It matches the tear in the breastplate exactly. Sir Tomura glances at the breastplate, then at you. Then he turns away.

“My Lord,” you start, “if you need a healer –”

“It’s a cursed wound,” Sir Tomura says. “It will never heal.”

That was in the prophecy, too – something about a blow from which the victor will never recover. You know it’s half the reason King Izuku held off. He has no heir, nor an obvious successor among his advisors, and everyone assumed the blow described in the prophecy would be fatal. You mind feels frozen, caught between horror and sadness and trapped in confusion. If what everyone says is true, and it is, Shigaraki Tomura is a monster. If what everyone says is true, and it is, King Izuku is a good king. If both of those things are true, then why did the monster fulfill the prophecy? Why has the good king offered him so meager a welcome? You don’t know what to do with the White Death, who saved your kingdom, whose infamous fury has yet to make an appearance since he arrived at the castle. Neither does anyone else.

Sir Tomura is fumbling with his new shirt, cursing. You abandon the armor and come forward. “May I help, my Lord?”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t refuse, and you take the risk of helping anyway, straightening the useless ruffles, doing up the pearl buttons, staying well clear of the terrible wound. “It takes a monster to slay a monster,” the White Death says, as you smooth out the lines of his shirt. “And now you all must live with the monster that survived.”

He looks down at you, the ghost of the sneer from before distorting his features. “Is that pity I see on your face? Save your pity. It’s useless to me.”

“I don’t pity you,” you say. You can’t – not when he’s done such terrible things, not when you can’t begin to calculate whether what he did in fulfilling the prophecy cancels any of them out. But you do feel something. You can be honest about that. “I was thinking that it was a brave thing to do, my Lord. To face the Enemy when you weren’t the chosen one, and knowing that the consequences were severe even if you should win. That is all.”

A hint of surprise crosses Shigaraki Tomura’s face. “Do the words monster and villain mean nothing to you?”

“They do,” you say. “But I have never seen it written that a monster cannot be brave. Or that a villain must always be a villain.”

The White Death scoffs. “Are you waiting for me to become a true knight?”

“Only as long as you would wait for me to become a fair lady,” you say. “That is to say, a very long time.”

“A long time to become a lady, perhaps.” Sir Tomura extends one hand towards you, slowly, as though he’s expecting you to flinch or bolt. “You were fair before you knelt at my feet.”

You’re not sure what he means to do with his hand, but you reach out and capture it anyway. There’s only one thing you can think of to do, and you do it – bow low over it to kiss his knuckles, just as you’ve seen lords do for their ladies a thousand times. And you speak, words you’re certain no one has uttered since he arrived. “Thank you for what you did. Even if it was not done for us,” you say. “And thank you, too, for saying I was fair. You did not need to say that.”

“I didn’t lie.” Sir Tomura has yet to take his hand back. You don’t know what to do but keep holding it. “It seems that you are in my debt now.”

Just like that, you’re nervous again. You know what knights often ask, or demand, from the women who cross their paths. “How shall I repay it?”

“This feast,” the White Death says. You look up, startled. “You will accompany me.”

“My Lord –”

“Since I have arrived here, no one has met my eyes, nor spoken to me as you have.” He’s averting his eyes from yours now. “I would like to spend one evening in the company of someone who does not find my company torturous.”

“I would, my Lord, but it is simply not done.” You’re surprised at how upsetting it is to be unable to grant such a simple wish. You let go of his hand and drop into a curtsy, replacing the distance that should exist between you, rather than the odd intimacy of the last few moments. “No true knight would bring a servant as his companion to a royal feast.”

“I see,” Sir Tomura says. His hand slips beneath your chin, tilting your face upwards, and you see that same flash of interest in his red eyes. This time it has staying power, as his callused hand molds to the shape of your jaw and his lips curve into the first smile you’ve seen from him. “It’s fortunate, then, that I am no true knight.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #x reader #reader insert #a bisquared production

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

Text

ensnared by the stars

Pairing: Jade Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: You waltzed right into his trap, but maybe you had done so willingly.

Tags: masquerade ball, dancing, sexual tension, pining, jade is slightly yandere, im thirsty for jade but what else is new, bot proofread

Word count: 1.3k+

Notes: my brain didn't plan out the schematics of an all boys school having a masquerade ball, so let's just retcon it and NRC is now a mixed school :)

fun fact this fic is largely based on irl events lol

also if anyone would like music to listen to for this fic, i recommend cantarella for the darker vibe or mr. turner's waltz for the dancing vibe :)

Masterlist

Jade leaned against the wall, surveying the sea of masked guests as he searched for you. The grand event had only just begun, and the anticipation was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited the start of the masquerade.

But what a joke it was. Crowley had the genius idea of holding an inter-school masquerade with RSA, all as an attempt to improve NRC's reputation. And the shrewd businessman that Azul was, he had been eager to take the opportunity and drain the wallets of attendees, selling masks, setting up photo booths with steep prices, and of course, the catering was all supplied by the Mostro Lounge.

But for Jade, the lure of the masquerade was not the promise of profit, but the chance to win your heart. For him, it was a battle, and one he was not willing to lose. The thought of another man winning your affections was unbearable to him, and with each move he made, he staked his claim on you, marking you as his own. And he knew that he was close to victory, that he would soon claim the ultimate prize of your love.

He couldn't help but wonder what you would look like in full regalia. It was a rare occasion for you to don your finest attire, and he was eager to see you adorned in all your splendour, He imagined how different it would be from the casual wear you often purchased from Sam's massive sales, and the ill-fitting uniform you wore almost daily. Would your mask be as intricate and dazzling as the constellations above us? Or perhaps simple yet elegant, highlighting the natural beauty of your face?

Perhaps, no matter what you looked like, the stars would no doubt pale in comparison to the sparkle in your eyes, shimmering with a radiance that was uniquely yours.

Diamond’s voice resounded through the venue as he called out for the partners to take the floor for the first dance, breaking him out of his train of thoughts. The air was charged with anticipation, a feverish energy that pulsed through the area. Jade’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as he looked around the dimly lit space, searching for you amidst the sea of sparkling attire. His eyes flickered back and forth, taking in the rich fabrics and glittering jewels that adorned the guests. Despite the dim light that obscured the features of the guests, Jade's sharp gaze could pick out even the slightest details, giving him a distinct advantage over the others who struggled to find their partners.

His focus landed on a figure dressed in navy and silver, the colours reflecting the grandeur of the room. A matching mask adorned the figure's face, hiding their identity as they turned their head this way and that, searching the room for their partner.

You were his dearest partner for the night, and if Jade played his cards correctly, for a lifetime.

A smile curved Jade's lips as he watched your frenzied search for him. Even in the elegant mask, he could recognize the sparkling eyes that he loved so much, now even more striking under the soft glow of the string lights. You were a vision of elegance and beauty, captivating his heart with every turn and gesture.

He glided through the swarms of people with careful, calculated steps, his hawk-like gaze fixed unwaveringly upon the object of his desire, unyielding in its focus. He was determined to ensure that no other could snatch you away before he had the opportunity to claim you.

As he came to a stop directly behind you, his brows furrowed as he marvelled at your beauty, taking in every detail of your form. Despite his close proximity, you remained oblivious to his presence, lost in your own world as you tried to find him in the dark. With a wry shake of his head, he raised a hand to your ears.

Snap!

With the clear sound of his fingers snapping, you spun around, your eyes widening in surprise before settling into a look of recognition. A demure smile graced your lips as you whispered his name. He returned your smile with one of his own, a genuine, loving smile so unlike his usual ones.

Bowing slightly, he extended his hand with grace and poise, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours in a captivating gaze. "May I have this dance, my pearl?" he asked softly, his voice laced with a hint of longing that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I would be honoured," you replied before curtseying, feeling the warmth of his hand enveloping yours through the soft fabric of your gloves.

As the music began to play, the two of you moved towards each other on the dance floor, your bodies already attuned to each other's rhythm like a well-choreographed dance. His movements were like fluid silk, each step a masterful seduction that left you breathless and wanting more. His every dip and turn was a subtle invitation, a wordless promise of the passion and desire that lay ahead. The air between you seemed to vibrate with a palpable tension, as if the mere brush of your fingertips was enough to ignite a blazing inferno.

Your bodies brushed against each other in a teasing game of proximity as you locked your eyes onto his. The music swelled and he drew you closer, his movements growing more fervent and intense. Lost in the moment, you felt your bodies and souls intertwine in a fiery embrace. It was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in a dance that was as eternal as the stars themselves.

As you spun around, you couldn't help but ask, "How did you find me?" The words danced between you like a secret whispered on the breeze, as you swayed to the music, the rhythm of your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

A mischievous grin played on his lips as he twirled you around like a puppet on a string, his eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky. "Oya? A gentleman never reveals his secrets," he replied playfully, his hand holding you close to his chest as the music slowed down to a gentle sway.

You could feel his heart beating against your own, as you looked up at him, taking in the warmth of his gaze. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling your ear, before whispering in your ear, "But I will say this—no matter where you are, I will always find you." His words came out with a fervent passion that surprised even him, his heart overflowing with love. The soft glow of the moon illuminated his golden eye that so many feared looking into, highlighting the intensity of his gaze.

You were ensnared in a web of enchantment, caught in the grasp of Jade's mesmerizing gaze. "Jade," you whispered, your voice full of emotion. A smile that you couldn't suppress formed on your lips, revealing the depth of love and admiration you felt for him.

You knew that you were under the spell of this cunning and intelligent man, and yet you were powerless to resist his magnetic pull like a moth drawn to a flame. You surrendered yourself to his embrace, your heart beating rapidly as your lips met his in a tender and passionate kiss. His hold on you tightened, and you felt the heat of his breath against your lips as he revelled in the victory of finally having you.

Despite the uncertainty of the future, you were willing to take the risk, like a sailor setting out on a stormy sea, to be swept away by his charm, to succumb to his every whim and desire, and to bask in the glow of his mesmerizing stare.

Perhaps you didn’t have a choice at all, after all, he would follow you to the ends of the earth. All to be by your side.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland jade #twisted wonderland jade leech #jade leech #jade leech x reader

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biggestsimponhere · 23 days

Note

“don’t touch them” with obi wan x reader please!! a little angst/comfort with obi wan getting protective ☺️

Protective - Obi-wan kenobi x reader

Warnings - Mentions of torture, blood, sharp objects

A/N: sorry this is so late omg 😭

A mission went wrong, this isn’t unusual in most cases except the way it went wrong. You and Obi-wan Kenobi had been sent on a mission on the outer rim. You’d gotten the supplies to the town and all was going well until you both began to make your way out of the town. You had both been too exhausted to sense someone sneaking up on you. Which effectively led to where the two of you are now. Chained up on Dooku’s ship with Obi-wan chained up next to you.

As you began to stir awake you could hear Obi-wan grunting in pain next to you. You reach out with your force to Obi-wan as you slowly wake up. “Well look who decided to join us” Dooku said turning his attention to you. “Don’t touch them, you’ll have much bigger problems than the order if you do” Obi-wan said glaring at Dooku. “Oh? So you do have a soft spot, here I was thinking it would take much more to crack you” He said looking back at Obi-wan. Obi-wan continued to glare at the man, while subtly trying to make sure you were alright. Dooku moved over to the table to pick up what appeared to be a very sharp knife.

You stared as you watched him move over to Obi-wan with it. He crouched in front of him moving the knife to Obi-wans face and running it down his cheek, nicking his face. Obi-wan grunted in pain as blood ran down his cheek. “Stop, d-don’t hurt him, hurt me” You said firmly. “I mean if that’s what you want” Dooku said before shocking you with his force lightning. “Stop! Stop please” Obi-wan yelled. Your face had begun to pale and obi could see you sweating. “Just stop” He said defeated. “Tell me what I want to know and i’ll let you both go freely” Dooku said stopping the lightning.

Before Obi-wan could say anything an alarm went off on the ship. Obi-wan smiled lightly as he felt Anakins force signature enter the ship. Dooku fled from the room quickly. “Y/n, hey, wake up please” Obi-wan said trying to nudge your force with his. He received no response verbally or otherwise. Then Anakin bust into the room. “Master” He shouted as he ran and undid Obi-wan’s cuffs. Obi-wan quickly moved over to you. You were still breathing but very lightly. “What happened?” Anakin asked almost on the verge of tears. You had raised him almost ad much as Obi-wan had. “Dooku happened” Obi-wan said before calling for medical.

Everything blurs as you’re rushed out of the room. Obi-wan watches as your taken away. To medical. Not away. He follows behind them slowly. Feeling awful, like he should be the one on the stretcher and not you. He distantly hears his name. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. “Obi-wan?” Anakin says again. Stepping in front of him. “Yes?” He says but it’s like he can’t even hear himself talk. “You need to get checked out” Anakin says laying his hand on Obi-wan’s arm. “I can’t, not until she’s okay” Obi-wan says. “She’ll be fine, but if she’s gonna be fine you have to be too” Anakin said before dragging obi-wan over to medical.

“Please Anakin, check on her” Obi-wan says as he sits on the bed. Anakin nods and heads out of the room. Obi-wan profusely refuses treatment until he knows your state. Eventually Anakin comes back into the room. Obi-wan looks up immediately. “H-how is she?” He said quietly. “She’s going to be alright master,” Anakin responded softly “You need to be treated” Obi-wan nodded and let the droids finally work on him. As soon as he was treated he rushed out of the room to find you. Once he was in your room he sat by your bedside quietly. If the other Jedi saw him shed a few tears they pretended not to notice.

He grabbed a hold of your hand and laid his head to rest at your side. A few hours later you woke up, reaching to move your hand you noticed a weight on it. You looked down and noticed obi-wan. You smiled lovingly before waking him up with a soft call of his name. He immediately perked up upon hearing your voice. “You’re awake” He smiled. “Thank you” You say quietly. “For what?” he replied immediately. “Keeping me safe” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek. Understanding that he doesn’t believe he did you sigh lightly. He turns his head to place a kiss on your palm before interlacing your fingers. You nod to the space next to you and he climbs into the bed. The two of you drift off into a peaceful sleep. Safe in each other’s arms.

#biggestsimponhere #star wars #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi fluff #obi wan kenobi fic #obi wan x reader #clone wars obi wan #obi wan star wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader

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heavyhitterheaux · 9 months

Text

Studio Time With The Triple Threat Harlows

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

Gif by @harlowgifs

Synopsis: The triplets want to spend more time with daddy and he knows just want to do to keep them entertained

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: anon who wanted dad!Jack content 😌

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You looked down to see that Ivy had gotten away from you once again and simply sighed. This had been happening since this morning with her wanting to be around Jack, but he was in the studio busy downstairs.

Every time she wandered off, you found her at the door to the studio trying to reach the handle and simply brought her back upstairs, but not before letting her say hi to her dad.

This time as you made your way downstairs you once again found her in front of the door trying to reach up to grab the handle when you picked her up from behind and made her laugh.

"My big girl has got to stop running away from me!"

"But I wanna say hi to daddy."

"Okay bug and then we're going to eat something."

"Chicken nuggies?"

"Sure if that's what you want." You said while putting her down.

"Go ahead and knock and wait for daddy to say it's okay to come in."

She knocked three times while shouting "Daddy!? Can I come in?"

Jack laughed to himself as he heard his oldest outside of the door for the fiftieth time today and got up to open the door to see her looking up at him with those big blue eyes that resembled his as she had her arms out for him to pick her up. As you mouthed 'I'm sorry' to him but he simply waved it off.

"Hi daddy! I miss you."

"Hi gorgeous girl. I missed you too. And of course I missed my beautiful wife also." Jack said as he picked her up and she simply started playing with his KY necklace as he leaned over to kiss the top of her head before leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"You eat chicken nuggies with me?" Ivy asked with hope apparent in her voice.

"I don't know yet sweetheart. Daddy has a lot of work to do."

"But daddy take a break?"

Just then you heard two more sets of little footsteps as Autumn and Axel ran full speed into Jack grabbing one leg each.

"As you can tell you've been missed all day." You said.

"Well then I guess I could take a small break." He answered as Ivy clapped her hands in excitement.

"Then let's eat dinner. Ax, Autumn let go of daddy so he can walk." Axel reluctantly pulled away and you had to pry Autumn off of him in order for him to be able to move.

All of you made your way upstairs and Axel volunteered to help you set the table.

You handed him napkins not wanting for him to start running around with sharp objects because that child could turn a spoon into a weapon.

The Triplets got chicken nuggets per their request while you and Jack had chicken and dumplings which your mother had helped you make earlier in the day.

Once everyone was finished and the table was clear, Jack got up from the table and Ivy went to follow him.

"Daddy? I come with you?"

"Ivy, daddy has a lot of work to do." You answered but once Jack saw the pout on her face, he didn't want for her to be upset.

"Bug, if you do you have to be really quiet for me. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes!"

"Wait, I wanna go too!" Axel exclaimed while chewing on the cookie that you gave him.

"Ax, don't talk with your mouth full." Jack answered while looking over at him.

"Me three!"

"Okay since all of you want to go, I need all three of you to be really quiet and draw daddy a few pictures. How does that sound?"

All three eagerly nodded their heads as they ran off into the direction of where you kept all of the art supplies and was jumping up to reach them and failing miserably.

"Wait for mommy to get it for you so you don't get hurt."

You took down a few pieces of paper for each of them along with crayons as all five of you went downstairs to the studio with Ivy leading the way. Jack had to open the door for her but once she did, she ran inside and found a comfy spot in the corner as her siblings joined her. You handed them the pieces of paper and crayons so that they could draw their pictures as you went to go sit on the couch next to them, but you quickly heard Jack’s protest.

"Can I have my wife over here with me, please?" Jack asked with a pout on his face and you quickly got up in order to sit next to him, but he gestured for you to sit on his lap instead.

"Are you going to be able to focus with me sitting on your lap?" You asked as you sat down with him immediately putting his hands around your waist and kissing you.

"I always can whether you're riding me or not and I want you to ride me so this will give me more motivation to hurry up and finish so we can get to it."

All you did was roll your eyes in response while laughing.

"And besides I want your opinion on a few things and they look to be occupied." He answered while peering over at the triplets.

"Okay let's hear it."

"And be honest with me. If it's trash then tell me."

"As you wish. But, I'm sure that it’s not."

"But if you hurt my feelings, I expect head before I go to sleep."

"Jackman, just play me the song please. And you never have to ask since I was going to do that anyway. I knew you wouldn't behave with me sitting on your lap."

"I am behaving!"

A little while later, Ivy got up and made her way over to the both of you to say that she was bored and needed something else to do.

"Daddy, can you play with me now?"

"Not right now. Did you draw me a picture?"

"I drew you four." She answered while holding up her fingers.

"It's almost time for you to go to sleep anyway." You told her and she immediately crossed her arms.

"But I'm not sleepy!"

"Wait, I have an idea. Ax, Autumn come here." Jack said and they stopped coloring to come over to him.

"Do you three want to make a song for daddy?"

"YES!" All three of them exclaimed and you couldn’t help but to smile.

"Okay listen closely." Jack started to say to explain to them how this would work as best he could so they could understand and once he was done they were excited.

"Mommy is going to go in the booth with the three of you to do it, okay?"

"Can my part be about chicken nuggies?" Ivy asked and Jack simply shrugged.

"Whatever you want, princess. Are you three ready?"

They eagerly nodded as you took Ivy in the booth first and placed the headphones on her and sat her on the stool so that she could reach the microphone.

Jack started to play the track and you tapped Ivy's shoulder to tell her to start.

"I like eating chicken nuggies and playing with Ax and Autumn. I love my mommy and daddy. Okay, I'm done." Ivy said while taking off the headphones and hopping down from the stool and you and Jack couldn't help but to laugh.

"Ax, you ready?"

He immediately ran over to where you were and sat down on the stool as you put the headphones on and it looked as if he was thinking.

"You ready for daddy to play the song?"

"Yes, I have an idea now."

Once Jack heard that Axel was ready, he pressed play on the track and you soon heard Axel's voice.

"Daddy is mad because I'm mommy's favorite boy. The end."

It took everything in you not to bust out laughing while Jack simply rolled his eyes as Axel smiled at him.

"I love you daddy!" Ax exclaimed as he came out the booth and went to sit in his lap.

"I'm starting to think that you don't, but okay. I'll let it slide this time."

"Okay, Autumn. It's your turn."

"My mommy and daddy can rap better than anybody and I'm next."

"Hmm, valid points were made, Autumn. Good job." Jack said as he high five her when she came out of the booth.

"Daddy, is the song good enough for us to get a Grammy?" She asked while looking up at him.

"Let me work my magic and it just might."

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow concepts #first babies of pg

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traffytaffy · 2 months

Text

OP Men and their Love Languages

Ft. Law, Kid, Zoro

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Law: Acts of Service

Law is a simple man when it comes to someone showing their love because frankly, he’s grateful for anything they do for him and the crew.

Helping him organize: keeping his materials clean, discarding empty pens, paper, sticky notes, etc.

Making sure hes well taken care of when hes too busy to know himself.

Bringing him coffee, food, buying him new supplies.

His s/o knows how hard he works to keep the crew afloat so to them, doing these things is just showing a token of their appreciation.

But most of all he appreciates company the most. His s/o doesn’t even need to speak, but just their simple presence around fills him with a sense of comfort.

So he’ll try doing to same thing back to them.

Making sure that his s/o’s self care and health is at top shape.

If theyre into makeup and self care products, he’ll make sure to study the products and determine if theyre good or not. If not, he’ll throw them out.

He’ll from time to time, try making food to share with his s/o so he can see a smile on their face for his gesture.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid; Physical Touch

Eustass isn’t really a man of certain words. He’d rather show what he’s feeling if anything. Do i think he uses soft words? absolutely. I believe hes a big softie at heart.

But what i think this man likes more than anything is physical touch.

He likes to feel his partner nearby. A physical closeness, a bond between two people.

At the end of the day, its his partner he grabs and holds close in his bed.

And not just holding close, that man has the best bear hugs, enough to make them feel safe.

When hes angry or overwhelmed? Just the simple touch of his s/o is able to bring him a calming sensation.

I think hes not too big on pda (unless he wants to be a jealous dick and show his s/o off lol), except a kiss or ass grab here and there if they’re sitting close. In private, he’s more touchy in mindless ways.

Touching their legs, arms, or waist, running his hand through his s/o’s hair, gently rubbing their back or hips, or even having an arm wrapped around them.. any type of intimacy.

He doesn’t need to say “i love you” a lot for his partner to know he cares.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Zoro: Words of affirmation/Acts of Service

Zoro is usually the one on the Straw hats who has words of advice to give from time to time. With his s/o, it wont be any different.

Before any battle, he encourages not only the crew but also his s/o the most.

“This is light-work for you”

“Kick their ass”

But he will constantly glance over at them in a fight to make sure they’re alright. He knows they can hold their own but he doesn’t want anything to happen to them.

He will constantly praise his partner. Never once underestimating them cause he knows their worth.

If anyone says differently? Those swords are sharp and ready and he’s there for their defense.

He cleans any weapons or objects that his s/o uses while he shines his blades, so they don’t have to worry about having their tools prepared.

His partner always checks in on him, bringing him water and towels when he trains (and sending him to shower more than once a week…lol ) ,cleans up any wounds or stitches he might have if they are alone, and even shares a cup of booze with him.

He is always in some way thinking of how he can be of help to his partner.

#one piece #trafalgar law #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #roronoa zoro #one piece eustass #trafalgardwaterlaw

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blackjackkent · 4 months

Text

Owlbear Vignettes

At first, Buddy sticks very close to Hector in camp. Hector was the one who fed him first. Hector is kind, with a soft voice. Hector gives him scritches between the ears and murmurs blessings Buddy doesn't understand. Hector is not Mother, but Hector is safe.

The others take some getting used to.

-----

Karlach is not expecting it, the first night Buddy tries to sleep in the tent with them. She's half-asleep and at first only dimly aware of claws jabbing through her clothes, which meld unpleasantly with a dream of stinging sparks in the Hells. Her eyes flicker open - and then she jumps as she comes face to face with an owlbear beak. Buddy has nestled himself between her and Hector, curled into a floofed-up ball.

"Aw, hells. Hec--" she says sleepily.

"Mmph?" Hector answers. "Wha-- ack!" There's a sudden sputtering noise as he rolls over into a faceful of feathers.

"That."

She hears Hector laugh softly in the darkness. "Buddy, you can't sleep there." He nudges at the cub's flank; Buddy makes a soft noise of objection. "Come on, Bud."

Buddy gives a chirping whine but allows himself to be displaced so Hector can snuggle in against Karlach again. The cub considers the situation for a moment, then flops deliberately on Hector's other side, staring at Karlach the whole time as if daring her to say anything about it.

"I think I have competition," she tells Hector with a grin.

"You're way prettier than he is, don't worry," Hector mumbles into her shoulder.

-----

Gale makes a picture of a woman, but she has no smell. Buddy doesn't like that. It seems wrong.

Wyll emerges from his tent to the sound of Waterdhavian-accented oration at full volume.

"That is the goddess of magic, Buddy. That is Mystra herself!" Gale is lecturing the little beast, poking a finger into Buddy's face. "You cannot simply swipe a claw through her as if she were a mouse you'd caught unawares. That is a disrespect of the highest order and I would have thought you smart enough to know better."

Buddy listens attentively, his head cocked over to one side, occasionally chirping whenever Gale pauses for breath.

"I understand that you are an owlbear and therefore not privy to the mysteries of the Weave," the mage goes on. "But that does not exempt you from a certain level of basic decency towards the divine. I will thank you to remember this in future and improve your decorum."

Wyll grins, folding his arms as he watches this little display unfold. "Do you want to try it again with an animal speaking potion?"

Gale sighs. "No, no, never mind. He's just a beast after all, he can't really be expected to understand."

"I don't know," Wyll says mildly. "Perhaps he has the right of it. A protective instinct, if you will, given the target does want you to blow yourself up. I think he's not the only one in camp who would give her a swipe if they could."

"I'll thank you to keep your disrespect to yourself as well," Gale says dryly. His fingers flick through the air, conjuring a new, glowing image of his goddess.

Buddy swats a paw through her again at once.

-----

The githyanki is sharp like Mother's claws. She snaps when Buddy comes close, sniffs disdainfully when he scarfs down some of the camp supplies. He steers clear and watches her from a distance.

He understands how this works. She is one of the alphas. She must be brought a gift before she will accept him in the flock.

One night, Hector watches with bemusement as the cub, his whole expression screwed up with deep owlbear concentration, drags a large dead rabbit through the camp.

Catching Hector's gaze, he drops the rabbit and chirps softly, wandering in a slow circle around his prize. His feathers fluff up in a deliberate attempt to make himself look bigger, as if to steel himself for a great challenge. Then he grabs the rabbit again by the head, and in a single smooth motion, drags it into the tent where Lae'zel is currently sleeping.

There is a brief moment of silence, followed by a yell that echoes through the whole camp. Buddy, still poofed out in all directions, comes sailing through the tent flap, tumbling end over end and hitting the ground some distance away. The dead rabbit follows closely thereafter.

The next morning, Lae'zel acts as if nothing happens, but Hector does note with some surprise that she gives Buddy an absent pat on the head every time she walks past him. Later, she offers him a torn off scrap of the hunk of jerky she grabs for her evening meal.

"You're not holding his midnight visit against him, then?" Hector asks her.

"On the contrary," she says gravely. "The creature offered tribute to me as its jhe'stil, and showed bravery in doing so. It has earned the respect due a beast of combat."

"But you threw him out of the tent!"

She looks at him unblinkingly. "Yes."

Hector considers trying to understand this, and then decides not to bother.

-----

Shadowheart rarely comes close at first to either Buddy or Scratch. She is wary of them as beasts of the forest. Scratch says she is afraid of wolves. Buddy is NOT a wolf - but he is almost as big as one, so he thinks maybe it makes sense.

She often looks at him like she would like to pet him, though. A few times, she does drift near, and lays her hand gently between his ears on the soft feathers at the nape of his neck. And he sees a little smile tug at her lips - but then there is a flash of magic around her hand, and she winces or cries out in pain and draws away.

Many weeks on, deep in the Shadowlands, there is a great commotion one night - an explosion of light and crashing and roaring in the distance. Buddy watches with great interest, and some concern, as Hector returns to the camp with Karlach and Wyll, all of them covered in blood and slime. Shadowheart, equally battered, follows behind them at a distance, her eyes hollow and her face even paler than usual.

Buddy finds her in her tent later, staring at the wall in the darkness. He sits in the tent flap and chirps questioningly.

"No. Go away," she mutters. "I can't--"

She falls silent. He chirps again, scoots a little closer to her.

"It hurt so much..." she whispers. "All this time, all that pain... for a lie..."

She gives a sudden hoarse, humorless laugh. "There was never any wolf. D'you know that? There was never any wolf at all."

He gives a soft, whickering sort of noise and nudges his head cautiously against her hand. There is no flash of magic, no cry of pain. He does it again. Her fingers fist suddenly into his feathers, pulling him towards her.

He squawks, alarmed, then relaxes as she presses her face into the soft down of his back and sobs.

-----

Late one night, Astarion tracks a deer through the woods. They're difficulty prey, jumpy and skittish, but his steps are light, an almost inaudible tread. And they have quite a lot of blood in them. The hunger gnaws at his stomach and his red eyes gleam in the moonlight.

Just a little closer...

His boot knocks against an ill-placed stone, barely a rustle of sound but enough. The deer lifts its head and gives a keening cry, and bolts.

"Oh-- damn it," he mutters, straightening out of his crouched position. His fingers flex with undirected frustration and he leans heavily against a nearby tree. "Damn, damn, damn." What a feast that would have been... the local squirrel population has been decent, but deer is something else entirely. One of his favorites, second only to the kobolds and, of course, the one pure draught he got from Hector's throat...

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an animal squealing in abject pain, a ripping, tearing noise of wet meat - and then a soft chirp. He looks down, puzzled.

Buddy is sitting looking up at him with bright, wide eyes. His beak is coated in blood, and he bounces in an excited circle around Astarion's feet before guiding him through the foliage nearby. The deer sits sprawled on the mossy ground, its head bent at an odd angle.

"Huh." Astarion raises his eyebrows, examining the gory tableau. His stomach growls audibly at the glinting shine of wet blood at the deer's throat. "Not badly done. I didn't think I was in the market for a hunting partner, but perhaps we should work together more often."

Buddy wiggles all over with excitement and butts his head against Astarion's leg.

"Yes, yes, you're very cute. Now stay out of the way and let me drain this thing before you start looking tasty as well."

-------

"No!" Minsc bellows, looking down at the cub imperiously. "You will stand aside, beast; though your talons be very sharp and your beak to match, Minsc will bear each scratch before you shall lay one claw upon Boo!"

Buddy cowers back, his eyes very wide and all his feathers standing up, as the berserker towers over him. Boo sits atop Minsc's head and squeaks angrily down at the cub from his perch.

"Minsc!" Jaheira steps in between them, raising one hand before Minsc can speak again. "Calm yourself. I heard you all the way across the camp. What is the matter?"

"Minsc woke to find the little feather-beast eyeing Boo with the hungriest of eyes," Minsc says fiercely. "Does he think Boo a little snack to be feasted upon?!"

"No doubt," Jaheira says calmly, struggling not to smile; Minsc is obviously incensed, and yet there is something comical in seeing him stare down the little round ball of feathers with such ferocity. "For he is a beast of nature; why should he know otherwise?"

"Well, he shall not have him!"

"Peace." Jaheira crouches next to the owlbear, murmurs a spell under her breath; green light flares around her body. "Do you hear me, cub?" she murmurs.

Buddy goes very still; his feathers flatten out and he stares at her with wide eyes. "You... speak?" he whispers.

"With all the wisdom that nature gave me." She smiles, reaches out to scratch him under the chin. "You must leave the hamster alone. For he is Minsc's to protect, as you are Hector's."

The cub chirrups skeptically. "Rat. Tasty," he points out.

"There is no shortage of rats in the city," Jaheira says dryly. "We shall find you other meat. But you must promise to leave Boo in safety."

Buddy makes a soft grumbling noise. "All right. Promise," he mumbles.

Jaheira looks up at Minsc, her eyes glinting with amusement. "The bargain is made," she says soberly.

"Ah." Minsc brightens up at once and grins. "Good. Minsc did not want to kick such a little, cute butt, if there was any helping it."

Buddy trots along at Jaheira's side as she walks away; his sharp little eyes peer up at her excitedly. "You speak. New Mother?" he asks hopefully.

"Gods. No," Jaheira sputters. "I am no more your mother than I am Minsc's Wychlaran; where does everyone get these ideas?"

Buddy's ears turn down. "Just hoped."

She pauses, then smiles faintly. "I may not be your mother, cub, but I think you have a whole camp full of family. As creatures of the wilderness go, you have it made."

-----

Withers examines the cub closely as it creeps around the edge of the camp, watching him from the shadows. "I offer no threat to thee, little beast," the skeleton intones gravely. "Thou hast no need of secrecy."

Buddy chirps. Emerging from the shadows, he sits at Withers' feet, looking up at him.

Withers' expression does not shift. "Indeed," he murmurs. "A creature without mooring. Untethered and yet bound. A matter of luck... or of fate."

Buddy tips his head slowly to one side.

"Thou art a pillar, upon which is built the lever which shall move the world." The faintest hint of a smile twists the skeleton's lips. "And yet thou knowest it not. This is as it should be. By such truths does all remain in balance."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #owlbear cub #karlach #wyll ravengard #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #shadowheart #astarion #bg3 drabble #bg3 fic #minsc #jaheira #withers #idk how good this is but i had a lot of fun writing it XD #drabble

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allkordelia · 2 years

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Enemies to...Friends?

You were in the caves tending to your dragon when a screeching came from above, both you and your dragon looked up to the sky to see the rogue prince dragon, caraxes, fly above before landing on the ground. Your gazed turned back to your beautiful dark green and brown beast noticing how she was longingly looking at the blood wyrm, you shook your head as you rubbed her neck.

For a while you notice that your dragon has taken a liking to caraxes and vise versa, you would be happy that your dragon had a little beau if only that beau didn't belong to Daemon Targaryen. You didn't have a problem with the rogue prince only because you didn't know him well enough to but it seems he had a problem with you, he would spit horrible names like "Silver Cunt" and "Sea Whore" at you whenever you cross path. It was a bit childish since he was ten years your elder, it was like a never ending nightmare when he was around you tried to act civil and ignore his nasty behavior but after a well it grown a bit too much to handle so you stayed home in diftmark.

The only reason your here now is because your father wanted company on his journey to see the king, well his there you were here in the pit keeping your dragon company. As if sensing your mood change your dragon snort nudge you out of your thoughts, you glance over at daemon and caraxes to see him staring at you making you turn away. A noise came from your dragon making you look up like her you sense she wanted to go to him, you sighed patting her side before taking a step back.

"Alright, alright, you can go." The dragon didn't waste time as she made her way over to caraxes laying her head next to his own, you frown a bit kinda jealous that your own dragon got itself a mate well your still single and alone.

"Odd, isn't it." You side eyed daemon who appeared next to you.

"What?" He glanced down at you as you still watched the two dragon.

"Both of our dragons have taken a liking to one another well we somehow despise each other." You make a face at this words before bending down taking your broken saddle from the ground.

"You make it sound like you don't know the reason why," you said walking over to one of the dragonkeepers with daemon following close behind.

"Oh, I know but I'm beginning to think you don't." His words caught you off guard making you cut your hand on the saddle gear.

"Fuck!" You looked down at the cut on your palm, the dragons looked your way as you held your hand out so the blood won't get on your dress.

"Go. Get us a cloth." He demanded from the dragonkeeper causing them to hurry off before leading you to take a seat well he held your hand.

"What you doing with that." You watched as daemon took out a flask and untwist the top.

"Cleaning the wound." You winced twisting your eyes shut at the burning pain, the dragonkeeper came back with medical supplies before leaving to send for a carriage.

"Where have you been these last couple of months." You looked in pain at daemon who was using the cloth to stop the bleeding.

"Home." He looked up at you before moving the cloth to see the bleeding has stop before gathering the needle and thread.

"Shouldn't we just wait until we get back to the castle, and let the maester do it." You said fearful not trusting daemon with a sharp object.

"We can. But, than your hand is gonna get even more infected and then the maester gonna have to cut it off." He looked back up at you with a mock smile, you rolled your eyes before nodding.

"Are you sure you know what your doing?" He examined the thread making sure the knot is tight.

"Yes, I've done this thousand time when I was on the battlefield." You groaned in pain as he stacked the needle in your hand, they were quiet as daemon was concentrating in sewing your hand up.

He finally finish bending down a bit breaking the thread with his teeth, you looked at him feeling his lips against the palm of your hand before looking away.

"Do you remember the day the great council made my brother king." He asked grabbing the gauze, you looked up at him before shrugging.

"Not really, I was twelve then...and I may or may not had too much to drink on that day." She let out a shaky chuckle making Daemon give her a raised eye brow.

"Didn't know you drink."

"I don't...that was my first time my cousin and I had stolen wine from my father's cabinet on The Sea Snake." A small smirk appeared on daemon's face at his cousin mischief.

"Well, I do and I remember over hearing a conversation between you two." He started wiping her hand she tilted her head to the side a bit perplexed.

"What about?"

"Me." You furrowed your brows before glancing down at how tight he was wrapping you hand.

"Daemon–"

"You said if viserys didn't get a son, does that mean we're stuck with me." You hissed as his thumb held pressure on your covered wound.

"Daemon!–"

"Do you remember what you said next because from what I can remember you said the last thing we need is another vicious king starting wars because his bored." You finally snatched your hand away from his grip as he glared at you, you look at him as you held your hand to your chest.

"Your fucking psychotic you know that for fuck sake that was ten years ago." She snapped.

"Yeah, ten years of everyone living off your words, calling me another maegor convincing my brother I was unfit to be his heir. Is that how you see me...cruel. " You looked away from him looking down at her feet.

"No." You whispered.

"Then why say it." You looked up at him with a sad and gulity look.

"Because I was bitter and hurt, I didn't mean for anyone to hear me. I'm sorry, Daemon." The rogue prince let out a huffed as he leaned against the wall crossing his arm, he glanced over at you as you tried to wipe your hand. He pushed your hand away as he grabbed your bandage hand and started to wrap it properly.

"You would have made a good queen." He stated not looking at you.

"And you would probably made a good hand." He scoffed giving her a smile.

"Too boring for my taste, but you know what's not boring." You raised a brow at him curious.

"What?"

"Riding to Dorne to see the fireworks." You hmmed narrowing your eyes at him.

"Are you asking me on a date, daemon."

"More of a assignation." You rolled your eyes with a slight smile before nodding.

"Fine. Only if you take me to Old Town next." He stood up turning his body towards her, he pulled out his hand for you to take.

"Deal." You gave him your unbandage hand before getting up, he linked your hands togther walking over to the dragons.

"This isn't some ploy to sleep with me is it." You asked out of curiosity still holding his hand.

"You think that lowly of me, cousin." He said mock hurt putting his empty hand over his heart.

"I don't know would you accompany a man known for being the lord of fleabottom." You asked him.

"Yeah, he sounds fun." He smirked.

"Of course you would say that." Your dragon lowered her upper body making you check that the new saddle on her was settled, before mounting her you looked over at daemon who spoke.

"How about we make things interesting."

"What did you have in mind." You asked watching him mount caraxes.

"Let's see whose can make it to dorne the fastest." Both dragon started walking to the opening of the cave.

"What do I get if I win." You asked.

"What do you want." You thought about it.

"I always wanted to go to silk street." Dsemon raised his brows at you.

"Only to drink and observe." He chuckled before nodding.

"Okay, I'll take you maybe if your lucky you see me in all my glory." He gave her a look making roll her eyes.

"What about you?" He made a look as if he was thinking before shrugging.

"A late night visit from you would be a nice reward." He smirked, you blow a raspberry before laughing.

"In your dreams, dragon prince." You held your reins before shouting in valyrian.

"Jēdar." Sky.

The dragon wings flew opened as she shoot up into the sky, Daemon looked after her in astonishment.

"....clever little serpent." He said with a sly smile, he shouted in valyrian causing caxaes to screech before shooting into the air after you.

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simp-ly-writes · 2 months

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Chapter Eight: War

Can be read as a standalone: Personal Hell Series (pt.9)

Pairing: (Hazbin Hotel) Lucifer Morningstar x demon overlord!Reader

Summary: Finding yourself living within a bubble of bliss, you and Lucifer lose yourselves in one another- lost in a dream before becoming rudely awakened by the Angels at your doorstep. Bloodied, bruised and falling once more, will Lucifer be there for you in time?

Warnings: 4493 words, depictions of blood, gore, death, injury and trauma. Intense swearing and emotional angst.

A/N: *hides* I am sorry for the wait, school hard, people = difficult.... yeah... one more chapter after this big one- hope you enjoy my latest cooking lol.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

You and Lucifer had been lost in the bubble you created for yourselves between the bedroom and your office. It felt blissful- surreal even as you shared laughs, wines and time with one another. Your legs still felt sore from the nights before, you nod your head towards the various guards arming the halls as they salute back towards you. When you completed your walk of shame towards your bedroom in search of clothing after slipping away from Lucifer's greedy hands, you were surprised to see the joyous faces that praised and cheered for your relationship with the King.

They appeared desperate in some ways, you remember having to hold yourself in a supply closet after a particular conversation with the head baker. The poor man sobbed into your arms, smiling bright and sharp as you patted his head. He then fell to his knees as you looked around desperately for help yet the guards remained stagnant as you swore to see their shoulders even jumping up and down with silent laughter. The baker prayed up at you, pleading for you to stay- whispering the tragedies he had to witness while whipping egg-whites.

“Love- do you know where my coat is?” Lucifer shouts from the wardrobe room, catching you in your thoughts as he rips through various shelves and drawers yet all you hear is a muffled shout from across the private wing alongside the crashing and slamming of objects in the room that has you darting over, spear raised as you roar- readying for attack.

Facing you swifty, Lucifer grasps your spear in surprising strength, forcing you to let go of it with a remorseful smile as he sets it on a nearby table and wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back. You do not hold on to him at first, hands shaking with adrenaline as your eyes chase to every corner of the room- still worried you were missing someone. Lucifer slides his hands up your back, pulling at your upper arms to hug him just as you rest your head on top of his. “Even if there was a vengeful demon in my dresser, know that I am taking no chance of losing you again,” the blonde speaks, eyes stone cold as he glares into a dark corner, becoming wrapped up in thoughts of what if?

“Sir-Lucifer! I-” you begin to protest, arms falling just as he holds you tighter, head shaking against your chest as your hands ball up into fists against his sides.

“You will not do anything- please. Even though you are technically immortal from my blood, I have to give you more of it every few centuries and even IF you were to pass again… you would not likely remember who I am… who any of us are here. You would return to my brother in your newest reincarnation, memories blurred and returning to your role as peacekeeper in his realm,” Lucifer speaks, voice firm in hope that you understand the gravity of the possibility.

You contemplate his words, never having thought of such consequences. You nod once before he lets go and you open a gateway to your house, Lucifer tilts his head to the side, curious as to the place he sees through your portal yet it closes before he can ask questions. The infamous white coat draped in your arms, freshly washed and pressed as you help him into it, leaving a kiss to his cheek as you both make your way towards the hall.

Various staff members smile widely at you when walking by, guards bow to your entrance as you command them to hold their actions just as Lucifer links your arm in his own, forcing you to skip down the hall along with him as you start to laugh at the childish actions. Once entering the study hall, you retract your touch as Lucifer turns back around, curious as to why you have stopped. Making a sharp turn down another hall, you click open a grad set of oak doors that creak to greet you.

Clapping your hands together, hundreds of fireflies hurry themselves towards the ceiling- illuminating the space as you spin with a satisfied hum. Mahogany shelves line behind a grand desk that sits on a taller platform than your own. The chair demands a demanding presence without a body filling its seat, memories of you refusing to look up towards this very desk has you looking back over your shoulder as Lucifer leans against the doorframe with a lazy smile across his face. “Sometime it has been since I have been in this room…” he sarcastically comments, watching as a spider crawls its way across the floor and into a windowsill filled with cobwebs as your cringe in thought to all the eyes of the creature staring back at you.

Shaking your head, disrupting a shiver, you make your way up to the desk, leaning on its surface as your hands trail over the various letters you had sent capturing your adventures and battles before taking up a full-time position at the palace. You hum out, picking up a letter with dried black blood, flipping it over and ushering out the note as it reads, “Best of Mornings, Queen Lilith and Company. I write to you today as an update from the front lines of outer rings. The civil war is soon to be under control once again as discussions have progressed with the deadly sins, I report that from now on I will no longer be talking to Lust after a… personal encounter. Flipping the page, there is a list of necessary equipment to be sent towards the western front that I will be maintaining come morning. To address your earlier concerns, I have endured minor injuries in the fight yet I cannot speak for the hundreds of my fellow brothers and sisters that have become ill in recent time- I cannot urge enough for supplies to come at the earliest moment. Sincerely, General Peacekeeper: your entrusted confidant, historian, and ally.”

Your finger glides over your panicked writing, you remember writing this note while swords and bullets crashed over your head while knee deep in the trenches. Dead-man's land was littered with corpses, the scent vile- burning your nose with its decay as you readied the line for yet another charge as you powered up your shadows in the turning of nightfall. You fail to notice as Lucifer has taken a seat at his desk, his legs spread as he pats his thigh, motioning for you to take a seat as you both continue reading through yet another distant lifetime.

One of his warm palms rests on your thigh, sneaking its way upwards as your breath hitches, swinging yourself to point him a glare. You both freeze as the door slams open and a dozen staff members present themselves to you, wide-eyed and seemingly in a frenzy. Taking a stand quickly, you jump down the stairs and listen to the hurried sentences they all speak out at once- barley picking up any of the words except for three that continue to get repeated, “Charlie, Speech, War.”

Shit. You whisper underneath your breath, your battle armor settling against your skin in an instant, clashing against your spear as you swing it to rest on your back. Lucifer stumbles to a stand, running around the desk yet you fall to the floor and into the cracks between the wood in a blink, travelling through the shadows towards the Hotel as the King grips out his hair- cursing himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He is unable to help without a summoning or sacrifice and there you went towards the face of certain death without a second glance at the chance to protect others. Fuck, why do you have to be the better person, Lucifer continues to curse himself as the staff look between one another- the newest recruits confused as to why the royal is seemingly doing nothing but walking around in circles and dinging a hole into the rug.

Lucifer’s head snaps towards the window as he sets the spider and its webs ablaze, looking down to watch as you gallop away on your horse as a few members of the royal guard quickly rush over to join you, calling and begging after their newly appointed ruler to return. The crest on their shields haunts Lucifer's eyes, the apple taunting as he forces his gaze away, turning to look at the portrait of Lilith looming over his shoulder. He feels her shadow over his form, judging his actions, eyes falling to the various memories scattered around the room in spite.

Her mouth opens, taunting him in voices of uncertainty, of you never returning, of him losing the dream once more- of being alone. He falls to his knees, shouting for the room to be cleared as the staff stumble out the door, closing it with a slam as Lucifer recounts his first visions of you.

He was young, cheeks full and rosy as Lucifer celebrated with the seven deadly sins, they boasted and roared about their domains- unknowing that in the morning light they would all fall under his rule. It was that night, in the confinements of his room, the warmth of a sleeping Lilith resting in his arms that he closed his eyes and listened to himself breathe evenly in and out.

His vision was a picture of pure darkness, he never was able to sleep yet lightning coursed through his veins. Smoke rose from his feet, caressing his ankles with their cold touch finding their way between the threads of fabric in his clothing. It was comforting their search only to shower as they drove back into an emerged hand. You smiled. Shadows covering your face, your hands sparkling like the reflections of the night sky on your skin. Your clothing blew in the breeze as the symbol of his brother burned brightly from the centre of your chest- illuminating your presence and sealing yourself in his eternal memories.

He stalked up closer to you, skin begging to feel your shadows once more. You tilted your head curiously, listening to the small voices that called out from the background. You spoke in a featherlight tone, voice without a dip or waver- you were as young as he was at the time. Still finding your inner voice as you asked, “I do not feel a dream in you, perhaps I may supply you one, dreamless?”

Lucifer nods, feeling as you place a hand to his cheek and murmur a transfusion spell. A few of your shadows drift from the depths of your being, rising from your hands to your fingertips- coating them like gloves as you lift up your other hand to touch his heart. A sudden burning feeling fires inside of you, as you curse out, eyes firing wide in confusion as you drop to your knees, falling over in pain.

The symbol on your chest burns, glowing brightly as you grip at it- shadows dispersing and leaving you nude as an echoing voice slices through your skin repeatedly as Lucifer watches from the sidelines. Your screams haunt as black blood hides your skin and disappears into the depths without a trace. He is sent drifting back towards Hell the next moment afterwards, his presence seemingly known as he sits upright in his bed. Lilith still sounds asleep beside him as he breathes heavily, drenched in sweat as he forces himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

Lucifer did not see you for many lifetimes since they and to say the incredible shock he was in when your features matched the person he stared down upon at the foot of his throne was an understatement. He kept himself distant from then, unknowing of what cruel jokes were being played on him once more- he had already fallen, he had bled for freedom, he had killed for morals. He watched you on the brink of death, pleading out as the voice shunned you for not learning and to start again, he saw himself in the endless reflections of you in that dream.

Lucifer felt himself being pulled out of his thoughts, that familiar burn of lightning coursing through his veins as he stood, the ground shaking as he cracked his neck, his power steadily growing as his wings spread, shimmering in the moonlight that casted upon his darkened eyes. The ground split the gardens, glass could be heard crashing as horns sprouted from the top of his head. He smelled blood, he burned in the sum of every being in hell's pain- but when he felt yours, saw your vision in his eyes. His memories took him back to that night, to seeing you kneeling before him, to see your skin touching his own, and he shot off into the sky, breaking through the roof of the estate with vengeance on his mind. We both will dream once more, I promise.

You screamed out to the field, the ground parting as the hotel's walls shook. Sir Pretentious jumped, slithering to hide behind Angel Dust who looked around in confusion, still shooting at the hoards of angels threatening their very being. You swung your spear between your hands on horseback, countless heads rolled and were swallowed by the earth as their blood cooled your face.

Moving to stand on the back of your hose, you yelled out a command as they came to a sudden halt, jumping their back legs and flying you up into the air- the earth rising with your very beginning as you through your spear into the heart of a maskless figure, they grasped at the rod gouging their chest, trying to pull it out yet you twisted, listening to their screams with unforeseen pleasure before ripping their heart out and pointing it towards Adam himself.

Rage brewed in his eyes, his mask glitching as he dived towards you. Taking a step back his guitar swings right past you yet each string snaps broken by the point of your spear. Cursing out you tease, dodging each of his fists with glamour before summoning the rock you fight upon to split. Waving goodbye as he falls for a few seconds in shock before racing back up towards you.

Adam goes to slam his guitar into your backside, his laugh mechanical. “You worthless whore, turning your back to me just like you did to that King of yours, worthless-” you blink in the next instance and appear on the rooftop of the hotel where Alastor already waits. Taking a light stab at the man, he hisses out, growing in size rapidly yet you blink with indifference. Feeling as the breeze picks up and the fluttering of angel wings can be heard from above.

You summon your shadows as tower over Adam's form as Alastor tackles him to the ground. You watch as the men share cuts and sharp words, red and gold mixing in a glorious cocktail as another swarm of Angels force your vision away as you fend them off. You laugh out, hearing as they each cry out in pain, falling onto the various spokes atop the hotel- their wings discarded in a never ending pile of flesh and bones.

You hear the faint crackle of a radio, turning to peer down once more as Alastor exited the fight, you watched as the shadow barrier fell, whatever deal he had made with the Dreamer was far superior than whatever magic you were given upon creation and with what little you knew about Lucifer's blood pouring in through your veins you tackled Adam to the floor. Spear horizontal as your bodies become flush against one another. You felt as he began to claw through your white uniform- staining it red as you continued to force more and more pressure against his throat.

The blood loss had you stagger, the cry of a vengeful Vaggie and Charlie lighting you ablaze as you dropped your weapon in an instant and made a move towards the both. Not feeling as you became impaled by Adams guitar as you fell towards the pit you created upon entry. Charlie roars alive, Razzle and Dazzle falling to the floor as an Angel sweeps across their necks, she is heartbroken over their loss yet is lost at the thought of you gone again. Her wings flap, her arms overextending in a fight to save you.

She watches as your eyes close, pain rising in her chest as she realises your early acceptance of death like an old friend. Vaggie catches her, pulling her towards the crowd where they battle Lute. Charlie begs for her to save you yet Vaggie shakes her head, dragging the Princess away, heart breaking at her sobs and pleas before a blade is thrown in her face as she is staggering in a battle against the angel lieutenant.

You hear your own spear begging thrown through the air- Adams cackle firing alongside it as it pierces through your shoulder. You slam against the bottom of the bit, head a blur in the darkness surrounds you, chilling your being to the very bone as your pain burns. Please, no please no, PLEASE… you beg to yourself. Desperate to not find yourself not back in the dreamland, you feel joyed to have sacrificed, the glory courses through you- healing your wounds in a golden light yet the pain burns through. Cutting through your skull as it pierces out the top of your head.

You beg for its release, you scream as you pull the blade out of your shoulder before slumping back to the ground. You do not know if your eyes are opened or closed in this pit, you swear to see stars emerging as bile rising in your throat as you choke on it. A black gloved hand emerged, you can identify the warmth that it displays as you shakily put your hand towards it as they pull you into their arms.

Air screams past your ears, you feel yourself rising, light hitting your face as your eyes remain closed. “Is this what heaven feels like,” you murmur to yourself quietly. The body chuckles at you, a kiss pressed to your forehead as the shouts of battle scream louder and louder, beginning your back from the past to the present- gripping at their shoulders for a semblance of stability before they cast open in shock.

White is all you see, red eyes staring at the wound- watching as it heals from their touch as they force you into their hip and fly higher towards the hotel's roof once more. “Not the compliment I was expecting love, but I’ll take it,” Lucifer teases, setting you down on the rooftop before shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. Your mind is still running laps yet your body happily turns to kiss the man as he hums out in approval while rolling up his sleeves.

Pulling away with a wink, your cheeks dust pink as he observes you removing the wrinkles from the clothing. He quickly turns, sensing an Angel approaching as he rips their head off their shoulders in one swift movement. The head rolls to between you two as he playful kicks it away and stands in front of you once more with a darkened look. His breath becomes laboured, his hand curled up into bloodied fists as veins in his neck bulge with restraint to his words as he takes in your state once more, “I told you, I am NOT losing you, not again- not ever.”

You blink twice at his sudden change, your mind finally clearing, “I-I’m sorry.” You watch as he shakes his head, head tilted down, golden curls now falling upon his forehead as your hand twitches to clear them. The deep tone he uses goes right between your legs as you curse out, not right now for fucks sake.

He pulls you into his arms, the world stilling for just a moment. “Let us fight together this time and for the last time.” you nod into his embrace before letting go, a gleaming spear presented before you as he takes your hand, leading you back up into the skies before crashing into an unsuspecting Adam. You both toss the man in the air between one another, sharing jabs and teases with sharp blades and teeth.

Yet Adam knows better as he dives away from this battle to start another as you both follow hot on his trail. His fists connect around Charlie's throat, she screams out, losing oxygen rapidly as he swings her legs helplessly. Your breath gets caught in your throat determination set in your eyes as Lucifer's fist collides with Adams mask, topping it aside as you dive to catch the Princess in her arms. Tears fanning both of your faces. “Are you alright?” you ask her, seeing images of her mother in her place within your arms. Speaking of the unhealed trauma that lingers.

She nods rapidly, “yeah…” and clears her throat, “I-I alright.” You bend down, allowing her to wobble to a stand as Vaggie rushes over, the both of them holding each other in a loving embrace as you turn your head towards Lucifer's fight as an offering of privacy. Chuckling out as he stands tall in pride, Adam looming threateningly over. He calls over his shoulder, taking a quick glimpse and smile towards his daughter and future daughter-in-law. “Sorry I wasn’t here sooner, sweetie.”

“Okay what the fuck is this family reunion shit, I’m here for a fight! How many of you fucks do I still have to fuck up!” Adam shouts, spitting out a broken tooth in your direction with a smirk. Such a well spoken man, you think to yourself- rolling your eyes as Lucifer's gaze snaps back and hardens with this display as he stalks up to face the first man. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters, see you messed with my man/woman and my daughter and now I am going to FUCK YOU.”

Did I hear that right? You think to yourself, eyebrow raising alongside your spear as you stalk closer to them both, eyeing up Lucifer from behind Adam- asking to take the stab. “Its fuck you up dad,” Charlie whispers from the sidelines. “Wait what did I say-” he gets caught up by the golden blood spewing across his face as you seek vengeance in the man's shoulder as he did so to you. Adam swings around, claws sharpened as he begins to take a swing at you.

Stumbling back as Lucifer steps in front to take the shot, he transforms at the last second and shapeshifts into a series of animals as your heart jumps, seeing the familiar snake slithering its way up the first man’s arm.

You take a step abc, sitting beside the couple as you all watch the battle commence. “So this is what you have been up to since eden? I must say- you really let yourself go buddy,” Lucifer stabs, floating through the air without a seeming care in the world. He tosses a smile towards you as you blow a kiss, watching as he catches it in one hand and catches Adams fist in the other, twisting his arm, shattering the bone as he swears out in pain.

The boys share a series of words and punches, you watch as Adam becomes procedurally more aggravated and his gaze falls upon you. Sitting upright in an instance, you shove the girls aside as the Hotel breaks in two, falling again, you could almost laugh yet by the glare in which Lucifer picks you up into his arms once more silences you deeply.

“YOU COME AT ME AND MY FAMILY? DON’T FORGET YOU ARE IN MY HOUSE- BITCH” The King of Hell commands, his voice damming every soul in sight to the ground as they grip at their heads- ears bleeding. You steady yourself at his hip, unknowing of the earlier horns that have sprouted at the top of your head. You swear to see in red as he takes a glance towards Charlie. Fists curling, Lucifer demands to do this alone, his eyes unrelenting as he passes you towards Husk.

Bones crackle and break like a roaring fire as Lucifer chuckles out darkly upon seeing the utter destruction to his features. Placing a hand on his back, he turns back at you, gaze softening as he looks to be a guilty child. You shake your head, pressing his head into your stomach as he grips the back of your thighs, breathing out as you run your fingers through his hair.

Adam stands, pointing a finger sharply in your face. You feel as Lucifer tries to pry himself away yet you only sharpen your control over his head. Still feeling the hot fire of his horns warming your skin, you know he would not stop. “I STARTED EVERYTHING ON EARTH, AND EVERYONE ONE OF YOU FUCKS CAME FROM THESE FUCKING NUTS!” You quirk a brow towards him as Lucifer shakes his head, murmuring, “don’t bother to correct him.” ‘

You smile, feeling as his shoulders untense and allow him to stand upright, his arms now wrapped around your torso as he pulls you into his chest, watching as Niffty eagerly stabs the angel over and over again. You do not wince at the violence, throwing her a thumbs up as she stabs him an extra few times just for you before throwing her head back in laughter, skipping away towards Angel Dust who welcomes them into a hug.

Lute screams out, hands reaching towards his corpse just as you place a foot to her back, keeping her face to the dirt as Lucifer moves to stand in front of the woman as you raise her head to face the King with a knowing smirk. He clears his throat, standing tall, fire re-growing at the horns as you shake your head, I just got rid of that…

“Now take your little friends, AND GO HOME!” Lucifer commands, looking at you for approval as you mouth please. “Please,” he tacks on more quietly, offering you a hand, you both watch as Heaven's portal closes. Sighing out in relief, you eye the troops and the damage as you start to have your shadows access the damage. “Anyone for pancakes?” Lucifer asks, hearing your stomach grumble with a smile. You blush, turning to hide your face in his shirt as he rubs your back. Charlie jumps up and down, pointing widely to the sight as Vaggie nods her head and smiles in acknowledgement.

“Pancakes sound good…” you murmur out, “and then back to work…” you finish your sentence with.

“And then back to work afterwards,” Lucifer repeats with a knowing smile before he leads everyone through a portal towards the dining hall of the estate.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

Text

W.I.T.C.H (Woman In Total Control Of Herself)

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

pairing: elf!jeonghan x witch!fem!reader

genre: fantasy, smut, straight up smut, fluff if you squint?

warnings: HUGE amounts of possessive behaviour, making out, knifeplay? (its arrowplay, a new kink i invented), degradation, manhandling, hairpulling, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), public sex, mindcontrol/witchery?

wordcount: 2k

a/n: alrighty i am BACK and more feral than normal, because this is way longer than it was supposed to be but oh well. this is technically a request/idea from the lovely @hwanghyunjinenthusiast who simply said elf jeonghan and "not sure if thats enough to go on" but here we are 2k words later...

The morning truly couldn’t get any better.

You had awoken in your cottage, the sun kissing your skin through the curtains. A long, drawn out yawn escaped your throat as you stretched the fatigue out of your limbs, and you remembered that because of the full moon last night, today would be the perfect day to go searching for supplies.

So you dug through shelves of potions and crystals for a dress, stepped into your best wandering boots and grabbed a woven basket for ingredients, not forgetting to make sure the protection spell on the cottage was properly set up. Then you strolled through the forest, listening to the frogs croaking “good morning!”, when they heard the familiar sound of your leather boots rustling the fallen leaves. There was no mistaking the forest was magical. Besides the talking frogs of course, the forest glowed. Glowed with all the power of the beings living there, the magic flowing through every flower petal, every root, every dewdrop. The forest wasn’t just scientifically, technically magical. It was also magical in the way humans used the word. Magnificent and wondrous, and you were so glad you got to witness it every day.

After a long walk you finally arrived at the waterfall, the one where you always found the best, most fresh ingredients for your potions and practices. You began to pluck, humming an old melody to yourself as the contents of your basket started to increase.

“Well, well, well. What a lovely surprise.”

You knew that voice. You knew that voice very well.

Unfortunately.

“How much of a surprise is it really, Jeonghan? I'm here after every full moon.”

The elf had been standing there for a while you assumed, because when you turned to face him he was on the other side of the waterfall, in the midst of sharpening his wooden arrows. And he didn’t even need to, you knew that. He was a high elf, born with a silver sword in his sheath. He could simply lounge around with his long blonde hair sitting perfectly, only the tips of his pointy ears peeking through all day. He didn’t have to hunt or fight if he didn’t want to.

And he didn’t want to.

“Yes, well. You don’t own the place”, he replied, before he deemed his arrow sharp enough and nocked it to the bowstring.

“No, I don’t. And neither do you. Though I am aware of how high elves like to think they own everything in this forest.”

Suddenly, a long sharp object flew past you, making a paper thin cut into your cheek and penetrating itself into the tree behind you. You looked back at Jeonghan, furious as you saw him, bow raised and smirking at your reaction.

“Everything, you say?” The elf began walking towards you while you carefully brushed a finger across your cheek, noticing nearly no blood was falling onto it.

“And that includes you, I suppose?”

He was standing close to you now. Very close. So close you could have made out every imperfection in his skin, if he had had any.

Curse elves and their absurd immortality.

“Am I hearing you say you think you own me, Yoon Jeonghan?”

At some point he had kept walking, now pushing your body against the tree behind you, his arrow still sticking out of the bark. You dropped your basket to the ground. A witch like you should know better than to mess with the high elves, but something about Jeonghan hindered you from keeping yourself controlled with the help of your powers.

Jeonghan reached over to the side of your head, pulled the arrow out of the tree and studied it in his hand for a moment.

“Would you like me to?”

The next moment you felt something cold against your neck. The base of the arrowhead met your skin, and you let out a sharp gasp as he twisted it so the sharp side was now pressing into the flesh, but not roughly enough to draw blood.

“Would you like me to prove it to you? I can own you, Y/n L/n. All that is required of you…Is that you allow me to.”

The ground below you felt like quicksand and your head was spinning. You shouldn’t do this, you really shouldn’t, no you should know better. You we’re in control. In control of yourself, your feelings, your responses. But there was nothing you could do to Jeonghan. He was resilient to all your charms and incantations, and even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t dream of what would happen if you tried to magically influence him. You already felt out of control.

Why was it so thrilling?

“Yes…”

Your voice was weak. Heavens, you were already weak.

“Yes what, witch?”

“Take me. I’m yours.”

That was all it took for him to be everywhere. His hair was in your hands, his scent was invading your nostrils and his crotch was pushed tightly against you, already grinding at a steady pace. The moans you were making against his lips were borderline obscene, sinful even.

“Such a little whore, already moaning so loudly for me, out here where anyone could hear you.”

Not completely true. Whether they were wizards, elves, orcs or another type of being, this place was fairly secluded. But the mere thought of somebody stumbling by you, seeing your dress bunched around your hips and Yoon Jeonghan sucking marks to your collarbones, only made you wetter and your moans louder.

Soon enough your bodice was ripped open, and your undergarments gone. Jeonghan brought a hand to your soaked cunt, teasing slowly with a single finger.

“What a good girl you are, already so wet for me, hm?”

His eyes flicked towards where the tip of his finger got coated in your slick, and as arousing as it was to watch his eyes glaze over in lust, it was equally frustrating that he was doing nothing.

So you got it together. Breathed in through your nose, and closed your eyes, focusing. Focusing on his finger prodding at your entrance, his hot breath on your ear, his hand on your waist. Then you tracked. Tracked the strings of his nerves, through his veins all the way to his heartbeat. It rang loud in your ears, and now you could truly feel all of him.

“What…”

Steadily, his breaths against your ear became faster, the tempo of his heartbeat increasing, as you focused on him and only him.

“What…In the names of the saints are you doing to me witch?”

He fell to his knees. Right there, in the outskirts of the forest, you watched as Yoon Jeonghan fell to his knees in front of you. You didn’t raise his heartbeat enough to hurt him, of course. Just enough to heighten his lust. Just enough to drive him mad.

“You’re not the only one with tricks, Yoon Jeonghan. Now get to work before I stop your heart completely.”

That seemed to be enough of a threat for Jeonghan to begin licking and sucking at your pussy like a man possessed, or maybe he was just as sick of the teasing as you were. Clawing at his blonde locks, throwing your leg over his shoulder, you were letting him devour you as drops of water from the waterfall splashed onto your exposed legs. Never had you felt so featherlight, so completely, and it sounded ironic, bewitched.

“Jeonghan, fuck s’good- Ah!”, you moaned breathily as he hit a spot that felt just right. When you looked down, you caught his eyes fixated on you, wispy bangs obscuring his vision but not enough to mask that twinkle of something in his eyes. Something intoxicating.

Something possessive.

As soon as your gaze had met his, you reached your high, hardly able to register that Jeonghan didn’t stop after.

He was mumbling something dirty against your inner thighs, but the blood was still roaring in your ears and all you could think about was how desperately you needed him inside of you.

“Jeonghan…More, please.”

His ministrations on your thighs didn’t stop as he responded.

“Hm? More what darling?”

You caught your lip between your teeth, trying to hide the sudden downpour of bashfulness washing over you at the prospect of having to vocalize what you wanted from him. Him, this ridiculous, cocky bastard of a creature that you always thought you despised.

“Want…Want you inside me, Jeonghan please”, you whispered.

He got up from his spot on the ground, now much bigger and taller when he was looming over you like this, one hand on the tree behind you to cage you in.

“I think you can do better than that.”

You whimpered.

“For heaven's sake Jeonghan, please, I’ll do anything!”

A scoff left his lips as he smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth, thinking over his decision.

“Probably shouldn't be making deals with a witch…But what the hell”, he mumbled before grabbing your hips and turning you around, so your hands were planted firmly against the surface of the tree.

“For a beautiful witch like yourself, I will do anything.”

Those whispered words were enough to leave your cunt even more soaked, and it didn’t help when you felt the tip of his hard cock nustling in between your folds (you had no idea when he had got rid of his pants but oh well, magic right?).

“Been thinking about this, you know? Everytime I see you here, ah-”

He pushed into you slowly, producing strangled grunts and moans from the both of you.

“Everytime I see you, In these cute dresses, bending over every fucking second.”

Then he thrusted into you sharply. You would’ve fallen over if you didn’t have the tree to support you.

“Always thought about just walking right up to you, and taking you right then and there. And everytime I saw you bathe here, fuck. Just wanted this body all to myself.”

The thought of him having seen you bathing in the waters, naked, should have scandalized you, but instead it left your legs wobbly and your mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

It went on like that for a while. A long while, in fact, of him grunting lewd secrets and confessions against your skin while you begged him to let you come. And eventually he did, because just like you too had promised, he would do anything, especially if it involved having his cum dripping out of you by the end.

He helped you get your undergarments back on, now obviously ruined, and then he kissed you.

Not like he had just a few moments earlier. It was short and oddly intimate.

“What was that?” You tried your best to look disgusted.

“A kiss, darling. Have I really fucked you that dumb?”

You rolled your eyes at him and picked up your basket again. It suddenly felt a lot heavier.

“Whatever, it’s not like it’ll happen ever again.”

He laughed at that. Fully, shamelessly, loudly laughed with his pants half on and his hair an absolute mess (and it was never a mess). There was something quite endearing about it.

“Oh, darling…Oh, you’re just adorable.”

Quickly he laced his pants up, and walked over to you again.

“We’ve made a deal, haven’t we?”, he said, grabbing your hand in his.

“Anything, no? That was the deal?”

No words could form in your tongue, his searing touch the only thing consuming your thoughts. You realized you might have actually gotten yourself into something very…Complicated. Complicated but strangely exciting.

He simply smiled at your lack of response.

“Don’t be a stranger, Y/n.”

His hand raised yours to his lips, as he planted the most gentle of kisses on your knuckles.

Then he was gone. Walked into the mist between the trees and the grass and became one with it.

You had no idea what to think of Yoon Jeonghan after that.

Other than how you already wanted to see him again.

#seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan request

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