#OH and the fire of london as a child | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enwoso · 1 month ago

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SPECIAL FRIEND — alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader

you guys finally got the fic! she’s a long one so hope y oh r comfy.

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without another word, she closed the gap, capturing alessia's lips in a kiss that was hungry, desperate and everything the blonde had dreamed about. it was a kiss that didn't ask for permission, instead takes. her mouth moving against alessia's with such urgency that matches alessia's, and the taste of her is overwhelming, intoxicating.

alessia can feel her back being pressed deeper into the kitchen counter as the kiss deepens, growing more heartfelt by the second as hands started roaming and exploring. tugging the other closer as if the other can't even bear the smallest bit of distance.

her fingers twisted around alessia's hair pulling the blonde impossibly closer as alessia's hands settled on her waist, then her back trailing with a possessiveness that makes leah's head spin.

the two trying to make up for lost time since they were last able to show their true emotions for one another. not having to hide behind a false facade when it was just the two of them. away from any prying eyes both big and small.

so right now it was all coming undone, unraveling in a whirlwind of passion and unrestrained want.

leah's lips leaving alessia's as they slowly travel down her neck, alessia not being able to stop the whine that escapes her. for every brush of leah's lips, for every graze of her teeth, for every lingering kiss sets alessia's skin on fire.

the desire between the two burning so fiercely as leah arches her body into alessia's hands desperate and craving more as her need for alessia was almost unbearable as she clutches the front of alessia's hoodie in her fists tugging alessia closer. leah silently begging for the friction of her skin against her own.

but within seconds something clicked inside alessia as she pushed leah back, both their chest heaving as leah's eyes go wide a look of worry flashing across her face.

“what-“

“lovies awake from her nap.” alessia pointed to the baby monitor which lived in the edge of the kitchen island and helped alessia know when you were as the monitor would show your movements in black and white in the tiny screen.

and that's how the two had been the last few months, in the shadows stealing small kisses from each other. lingering touches when no eyes were preset to see, sweet nothings whispered in the others ears in the darkness. they'd spent the last few months hiding.

neither could really pin point the moment that their relationship shifted from friends to lovers.

maybe it was when alessia joined arsenal or maybe it was the month they spent together at the euros learning more about each other as leah grew close to you as she taught you how to tie your shoe laces.

or maybe it was when leah saw alessia for the first time with you, alessia's double hanging from her side filled with so much confidence. maybe that was the shift, leah saw alessia in a whole different light, more mature, gentle and nurturing.

instead of the girl who would laugh and mess about with georgia and ella during england camps as they told their awful jokes but alessia would always find them hilarious, slapping her knee as she doubled over in stitches of laughter.

leah would admire alessia from afar never ever thinking she would ever have a chance of being the one for alessia.

but when the switch finally came and their friendship blossomed into something much more, the first move being made just after leah did her knee. alessia being in london a little more frequent that she usually would due to ongoing talks with arsenal and a certain blonde defender.

a quick visit alessia made from manchester to see the blonde, turned into quite the memorable one.

leah's leg propped up on the coffee table as the two sat shoulder to shoulder on leah's couch. the sun bleating through the large windows which watched across north london. a series on that alessia had picked, although leah would say force, as the one picked leah had never seen much to the disgust to alessia as she claimed ‘it was a classic!’

"your really pretty y'know" leah blurted out as she complimented the blonde. alessia turning her head as a small shy smile appearing in her face. a small tint showing on her face as alessia whispered a 'thank you'

the two sat holding eye contact waiting for the other to speak and break the silence but neither did instead every few seconds leah’s eyes would flicker to alessia’s lips before looking at her eyes to see if there was maybe a chance leah was getting the wrong idea. but all leah could see was love and a genuine want.

leah made the first move, moving in slowly as she gently cupped alessia’s cheek. she was so gentle in her movements as if, if she was too forceful the blonde in front of her may break.

alessia leaned in closing that gap between the two quicker than the agonising slow pace leah was leaning in at. as the kiss was filled with so much emotion and said everything the two had been thinking and feeling about the other the past few months. and it was safe to say that definitely wasn’t the last kiss that happened.

but once things were no longer just a quick kiss to fulfill some pleasure and the two had actually gotten round to talking with actual words and then when alessia was finally named leah’s girlfriend was when things began to get a little tricky as it wasn’t just alessia’s life that leah would become a big part in — but also yours.

alessia was a little hesitant at first at showing any affection around you with leah. a fear which had built inside alessia what if she introduced leah to you as her girlfriend and then leah left cause she wasn’t ready to become a parental figure.

that and the fact you had a pretty good bond with leah to begin with would make it all the more confusing to you if she just got up and left one day. but surely that would make it easier? wrong!

if anything it made it harder, as it was fear which had always clouded her mind when it came to having someone else enter her life in a romantic way, as most people her age weren’t ready or even remotely mature enough to look after a child at twenty-four never mind help raise one.

so instead the two hid, of course leah knew that the fear was there for alessia and no matter the amount of times leah had reassured the blonde that alessia couldn’t get rid of her that easily.

but leah would never pressure alessia into telling you, leah knowing the important of the subject and the fact that you were alessia’s world and alessia felt the need to protect you from the big scary world.

leah knew that if the relationship was to progress then it had to be done properly and that started with alessia finding the right time for her. and the day would come leah was sure of it.

the day would come and even if it was tomorrow or even in a months time the time would be right and that was okay. leah loved alessia. so that meant she would wait a few years if that meant they could be a complete family.

but until then leah would stay making alessia happy, doing the same things she usually did, playing football in the back garden as alessia did her usual house chores, helping you tie your shoes while also being your biggest fan at your football games — well maybe second biggest no one came close to alessia. with also the side of being there for alessia, stolen glances and kisses in the shadows where no one else could see.

so when one night the two were together, alessia having tucked you into bed for the night. leah having got to alessia’s home a little later than she’d of liked, missing bedtime stories due to the amount of traffic on the london roads.

but as always when leah was coming over, dinner was ready on the counter with a small glass of wine as the two would eat together before snuggling up in the couch to what whatever was going on netflix but no before alessia had checked on your sleeping form.

making sure you hadn’t somehow fell out of bed or even hanging half way out of your bed. but as always you were still tucking up hugging esme the elephant.

but when alessia would come down from checking in your leah would have the couch all ready and cosy filled with blankets with netflix loaded up as leah would wait for alessia to just flop into her arms.

leah pressing a kiss into alessia’s hair as she hummed, her whole body relaxing as all the troubles from her day just expelled her body when she was in the warmth of leah’s arms.

the film opening credits rolling as alessia looked up at leah, “i think i’m ready to tell her-“ alessia sleepily mumbled.

it taking leah a seconds to process what alessia had said unsure if she’d heard correctly, “who?” leah asked as her eyebrows furrowed.

“lovie. about us. i don’t want to keep it a secret from her anymore.” alessia explained as a realisation came over leah, the day had came well nearly had.

“less- are you sure? i don’t want you to rush-“ leah began but alessia hushed her by placing a quick peck to leah’s lips, stopping her thought process entirely

“le- i’m serious. she’s my world but so are you and it’s time my two worlds collide. i love you le and i know another little one who loves you maybe just as much as i do” alessia told the leah as she nodded slowly taking in what alessia said as she spoke with such love. leah feeling a sense of belonging as this was just the beginning of their family starting.

it had been a hectic few days since alessia had told leah she was ready to tell you about the two of them being together. it being filled with match days, recovery, family time so finally a day off had rolled around where alessia had made her mission for the day to do two things, do nothing but chill and two have a chat with you.

she’s basically completed number one, having sat doing little harmless things around the house, like folding clothes and putting a load of washing or two in as you played around the house, you being very good at making your own fun.

but as for right now alessia was leant in the doorway of your room while leah was at a nike shoot but had promised alessia she’s be back from your movie night that you’d none stop asking about even though you always seemed to fall asleep not even twenty minutes into the film.

alessia stood for a moment replaying in her head what she was going to say, as you played with your barbie's you own little imagination taking over as you played.

"lovie?" alessia softly said breaking the silence your arm which had your barbie flying through the sky dropping to the floor as you looked on with a grin at your mummy.

"can mummy have a chat with you?" alessia smiled as she sat on the small arm chair that was in the corner of your room, most of your teddy's that people had bought you as gifts for birthdays and christmas sat proudly on there.

you nodded slowly leaving your fantasy land with your barbie's for a minute as you made you way to where your mummy was, a puzzled look on your face.

"is this about who put fish beads in your favourite vase? cause it wasn't me" you blurted out as your mummy was now the one with the puzzled face.

"there's what in my vase... no no-" alessia paused her head now racking with questions but reminding herself the purpose of the chat. making a mental note to ask about the fish beads a little later on.. "mummy needs to have a serious chat with you"

"oh" you murmured, as you began to look at your sock covered feet as alessia quickly assured you that you weren't in trouble, a small sigh left your lips.

"so you know how mummy and leah have been spending a little more time together, like le's been here more often and sometimes picking you up from school-" alessia began before you interrupted.

"and helping me with my football in the back garden!" you grinned thinking that mummy was just asking for things that leah had been helping you with as your mummy nodded encouragingly

"so you know how auntie beth and auntie viv are special friends?" alessia asked as your eyebrows furrowed for a moment a little confused at what she meant.

"is that why they live together and why auntie viv laughs at auntie beth's jokes even though sometimes there not funny?" you ask a little confused as your mummy stifles a laugh at your little jab at beth's joke telling.

"yes that’s right, now mummy has a question to ask you and if your not okay with it then that's totally fine. mummy won't be upset. i want you to be honest with me" alessia says in a serious tone as she grabs your small hands in hers as you nod your head slowly waiting for the question to come as you felt a sense of nervousness of not knowing.

"how would you feel if leah became mummy's special friend?" alessia finally managed to get out as a thick silence filled the room, your small brain ticking away more than likely trying to wrap your head around the idea and whether you liked it. alessia taking your silence as a good think.

"so leah move in here and laugh at your jokes which sometimes aren't funny too?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed as a light smile appeared on your mummy's face at your pure innocence.

"she wouldn't move in, at least not yet anyways, and for my jokes you always find them funny missus!" alessia told you as you nodded, before she poked you in the ribs where you were ticklish as you jerked away giggles leaving your lips as once of your hands left your mummy's momentarily.

"but it's totally okay if you don't like the idea, i won't be upset"

you hummed as your thinking face came across your features, "i like leah. she can become mummy's special friend" you smiled as alessia looked across your face as if she was checking for any signs you may not be fully okay with the idea. but as far as alessia could tell you seemed pretty happy with it.

"and your sure your okay with it, cause mummy wants what's best for you. cause your my main priority and you'll always come first to me" alessia reassured you as she pulled you in closer so that you were stood inbetween her legs as she hugged you. planting a kiss on you forehead as you nodded.

"if mummy happy then i happy" you smiled as alessia heart warmed at you small sense of maturity at such a young age, "but can i get back to my barbie game, she was just about to land in the moon until you came in" you asked with a hopeful look as your mummy chuckled before nodding.

you rushing off to get back to barbie landing on the moon which was really just the top of your bed which had a grey pillow on top of it which was 'the moon' but the thought and effort was there so props to that.

"i'll leave you astronauts to it" alessia said as she made her way out of the room as barbie was once again flying around the room by you, similarly to when alessia first walked in.

it was now around seven, you were allowed to stay up thirty minutes later it having been a weekend but you were busy having your snacks just before bed along with your cup of milk you had every night without fail.

alessia was busy in the kitchen making some dinner for both her and leah, when leah finally got home from a late shoot with nike. you'd been watching the large bay window in the room like a hawk awaiting the blonde defender all night.

any flicker of a light or shadow you were ready to pounce towards the door, this time it was leah who was finally home. "just me!" leah called out with a sweet tone, you barreling your way into the hallway as an echo of your mummy telling leah she was in kitchen.

leah holding onto the banister as she took of her shoes, one by one. a few shopping bags and a bunch of flowers stood next to her.

"hi mummy's special friend" you giggled as you bumped into leah's leg hugging it tight before rushing back off before leah even had the chance to speak.

leah stood one shoe on, one shoe off stunned in the middle of the hallway. as she tried to rack her brain around what you'd just said — then realised alessia must of told you.

alessia stood leaning against the doorframe watching the whole interaction as leah had her confused look on, a pout and her eyebrows furrowed. looking up from taking her other shoe off she was met with alessia's smile.

"i take telling tiny went well?" leah chuckled as she wrapped her hands around alessia's hips.

"oh you've got lovie's approval" alessia smiled before continuing, "but i think it's only cause she loves having her football sessions in the back garden with you" alessia pointed out as a smug smile appeared across leah's face as she pulled the blonde closer to her.

"which by the way is recking my lawn!" alessia poked leah accusingly at her chest. part may be from the fact the grass is used a lot but also could be from the lack of sun some parts lacked.

"hey! that's our mini medow park your dissin'-" leah defended you along with herself, as alessia rose an eyebrow, "but maybe these are a start to fixing the lawn" leah moved her hands which were previously rested on the blondes hips to find the bunch of flowers which had stood on the ground for the last five minutes.

“mhm it’s a start” alessia trailed off looking at the flowers — which did so happen to be her favourite — with a loving smile as she looked back up leah playfully rolling her eyes at the comment before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to the blondes lips.

leah trying to the bring alessia closer by pulling her hips closer but the obstruction of the flowers being there as the plastic which covered them began to crinkle, making alessia jump back slightly at the sudden sound.

“better?” leah asked as the twos foreheads rested against one another’s, a small smile appearing on alessia’s face as she whispered, “much better” planting another quick kiss to leah’s lips.

“i love you-“ leah began but was interrupted by the sound of something falling not long after your voice could be heard echoing through the hallway, “mummy! i accidentally spilled my drink” you called out in a worried tone as you looked at the juice which was currently pooling on the floor.

“sorry duty calls!” alessia giggled as she paused pulling away from leah hands which were resting on alessia hips. “don’t worry lovie, mummy will clean it up!”

alessia began to turn her back to retreat to the kitchen the flowers still in her hand, as a small gasp escaped leah making alessia turn back around with a slight confused look. “say it back!”

“what? oh- i love you too leah williamson.” alessia sung out as she winked at her, swaying her hips as she spun on her heel to make her way back to the kitchen to get a cloth before going to reveal the mess you’d made of her floor with your drink.

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coucouatoi · 3 months ago

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now you're in my life... | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Warnings: sexual tension, slutshaming, women being viewed as wives and baby makers only (not by Harry), fluff, Harry being a gentleman, implied age gap, smut

A/N: Bridgerton fic incoming!! I'm late to the Bridgerton party but I've finally rewatched it all... also didn't reread a 7th time so if u find any errors, sorry <3

Summary:

Dearest Gentle Readers, remember that a Bridgerton Courting season is never complete without some juicy drama. Here's some tips to stay... out of trouble:

1- Don't attempt to stand out

2- Don't even try to become the Diamond

3- Don't get caught with Londons most sought after bachelor in a compromising position

Good luck readers!

Lady Whistledown

Travel is exhausting. It always is.

Travelling with the end goal being dancing, presenting yourself, being courted and then wed is excruciating.

Your mother, bless her, is more excited than you've ever seen her. The carriage is already quite cramped with you, her and your younger brother squeezed tightly against each other. Her legs bounce constantly, her fan is flapping like she wants it to break in half and the lessons. Oh god, the lessons. A second of silence is too long. You have to be bombarded with rules and tips to make you the perfect debutante this new season.

Your brother, however, is barely spoken to. He is not going to be presented to the ton until a few more years have passed. The conversations seem to bore him. Bore him so much that he has seemingly slept through the entire trip... or at least pretended to.

Your trip to London is quite long. You have taken a boat and ridden so many carriages your behind has most likely become flatter. Today is the last day of travel thankfully. You'll be arriving at your family's English estate soon enough, your father is probably already waiting in the steps most likely impatiently tapping his foot.

He and your mother are still obsessively in love with each other. Married three weeks after courting during their first-ever year as debutants. First child, you, nine months later... after that things slowed down. It took them twelve years to have another child and now, six years later, she's gotten pregnant again. Their grand finale as they keep calling it.

You can only wish that you'll be able to find someone who makes you feel even just a smidge as happy as your parents make each other. That there's someone here, in London, who will make a worthy husband and an even more worthy father.

Your mother's squeal startles you out of your thoughts as you turn into the estate. She must have spotted your father.

The time has come, you must now be the best future bride possible for all the men in the Bridgerton ton to run after.

You feel absolutely ridiculous. Who allowed this to be the standard for debutantes?? A feather tucked into your neatly styled hair but not just any kind of feather it's not small or dainty, no. It's tall. Taller than most things in the room. On your tiptoes, you could reach some of the lower ceilings with it. The dress is fine, the gloves are only a little itchy and the shoes are actually quite pretty. But that damn feather...

"Are you sure I can't just accidentally set it on fire?" you grumble to your mother who is your sponsor for your official debut this season.

"That would certainly bring attention to you... I'll entertain the thought" she quips with a small smile.

"I look ridiculous with it! What's the point of looking like an ostrich? Is that what English men find desirable?" you're incredibly confused. This can't possibly be something that attracts suitors...

"The Queen demands it, my dear", she rubs your arm reassuringly, "We don't want to upset her"

You shrug in defeat. Your mother is right, no one would dare go against the queen. Especially when you are to be presented in her court.

The two women in front of you are escorted into the ballroom as their names are called. The doors close as the debutante bows to the Queen.

This is it. You're next. You're going to walk in front of the entire ton as fresh meat. Someone they don't know.

Your father owns an estate here but you've only been to London twice before this. Never enough time to make friends or make any kind of impression. Hopefully, they don't eat you alive.

Your mother fusses over the sleeves of your dress. Then she tugs your gloves up, making them pull uncomfortably at the webbing between each of your fingers. You let her fix anything that she deems askew or not perfect enough. It's the nerves making her twitchy. As the doors open in front of you she pushes the feathers you wear deeper into your up-do.

"Y/N L/N and her mother Lady L/N" Your mother locks your elbow with hers as you walk forward.

The room is littered with people, London's finest and richest gathered to see what fresh meat this courting season brings.

The other debutantes are lined next to each other facing the door, their mothers or older sisters behind them peering over shoulders.

Once your eyes lay on the queen you suck in the breath you were about to take. She sits on her throne like she was born to be on it. Her head held high but her eyes inquisitive. She eyes you up and down, more than once, it makes you stand up straighter. You want her to like you, get her and the rest of the ton curious.

Your mother lets go of you as you get closer to the Queen. The last steps you take are the most nerve-wracking ones you've ever taken. All eyes are on you; men, women, debutantes, the queen's harem, potential prospects.... Everyone.

You bow to her, deeply. Your right leg goes behind your left, you bend your knees and your head tucks down towards your chest. You stay like that, it's only polite to stay low as long as you can but when your foot starts feeling numb you stand back up.

She's in front of you. Eyes locked on your face, she examines it as a smirk forms on her face. The Queen approves of you.

"My diamond, make me proud" She taps your cheek once, twice, thrice before kissing your forehead and nodding her head as she makes her way back to her throne.

What does she mean by Diamond?

As soon as you enter the Bridgerton ball with your family you're swarmed. It's as if you're the newly set dessert table.

Potential suitors waving pens in your face begging for a spot on your dance card.

Is this what being the Diamond is all about?

Being chased around like you're nothing more than a cheap prize to these men? That's probably what you are to them...

You fill out two dance spots at random before managing to wiggle your way through the crowd and into the actual festivities.

The ballroom is enchanting, with flowers of every kind scattered all around the room. You feel like you've stepped into an indoor garden, everywhere you look there's at least one blooming plant. It's gorgeous. You want to stay in this room forever.

The dance floor is currently occupied by couples, waltzing around each other, the choreography running through their veins as if they were born knowing them.

It's all so hypnotizing. The dances, music, seeing the ton gossip so proudly, the men trying to woo this season's debutantes and the women batting their lashes waiting for someone to walk up. It's a game, all of it and you love being a witness. Well, a player now...

"They have a buffet!" Your little brother exclaims as he runs through the crown and straight for a table littered with a large array of foods. He's going to be distracted there for at least 2 whole dances. You have the next dance clear for now so you take the time to wander around, head held high as you take everything in. Your mother had fused incessantly over how you should act tonight and over your chosen outfit. It had to be:

- Fit for a diamond (whatever that may be)

- Have flowers, by order of the Queen

- Unique enough to attract attention

- Modest but not prudish

Complicated demands under the time restraints you had but she made it work. Calling upon her best modiste contacts and personally seeing to the design of them. You have to admit she has done quite the selection for you this evening.

Your gown is a light green, sage might it be? There's a thin layer of darker tule over the bottom half and your sleeves, giving it dimension. The area that goes around your bust and upper back is lighter and full of gemstones shaped like different flowers. It looks like the modiste managed to sew an entire bouquet into the fabric. The gloves are sage as well, going past your elbows and trimmed with the same darker tule. Your mother had a spare ribbon of the sage silky fabric saved for your hair. It's styled into the updo, weaving itself perfectly between the colours of your neatly styled hair. Smaller gemstones have also been placed precariously to make sure you shine as bright as any diamond should.

They've done an excellent job at making you look like a walking dream. Tempting, gorgeous and almost unattainable.

The song that is playing is about to end, which means you're about to have your first dance of the evening. You can't even recall with whom you had simply grabbed a random pen and wrote the colour of his jacket. Too many names had been screamed at you for you to decipher which was his. Hopefully, whoever occupies your first spot manages to find you and whisk you away to the dance floor.

As the couples either leave the dance floor or get ready for the next song, you look around somewhat panicked. Is your first slot not even going to find you? That would be slightly humiliating...

"Lady L/N" you turn swiftly toward the voice behind you. "I'm Lord Talag, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance" Lord Talag takes your hand and presses his lips to the back of it. His suit is blue with silver stitching, your very first slot. He leads you to the dance floor and you both take the first positions for the waltz. The violins start first and you're instantly moving.

Arms gracefully twirling over your head as you spin backwards. As you turn you can't focus on Lord Talag but you know he's doing the same thing. When you stop your turns and face your partner, you see that he's fallen. On his ass, on the floor, in front of everyone. The other couples around you stop abruptly to not trip over him.

"My Lord! Are you alright?" you gasp reaching out to help him stand. However, he ignores your attempts to aid him back on his feet and dusts himself off.

"Good evening, Lady L/N," he says and rushes out of the room. He resembles a kitten running to beg their owner for a treat: legs kicking quickly, bum shimming from side to side, a determined expression...

You're left standing in the middle of the dance floor as everyone looks at you with a confused expression. Your own must look quite similar to theirs. Your first dance partner for the evening has walked out on you. All because he fell on his ass. Men, am I right??

Taking a breather after the embarrassing moment Lord Talag put you through is essential. You can't possibly face the ton as they gossip about it. His chances of finding a bride now are squashed, he's the laughingstock of this courting season. Well, for now at least...

The midnight air is crisp. The cold air prickles at your skin causing goosebumps but you enjoy it, your skin had heated up under everyone's stares. There's no wind, no sound (besides the muffled voices inside) and only a slight orange hue glows around you on the balcony. There are some oranges perched around you and over your head. They aren't quite ripe yet but they do look particularly inviting.

You turn to rest your bum against the marble railing, lifting your head towards the sky. The stars are bright. Brighter than you would have imagined to see in the city. They reflect over the artificial pond under you, seemingly dancing on the ripples. It's all so peaceful.

"Don't you think it's a little cold to be out here without a coat?" the deep voice has you jumping out of your skin. You turn around abruptly to see who's sharing the balcony with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know someone was already here" you bow politely already stepping towards the door. You're not about to have two incredibly embarrassing moments in one evening. Would the Queen be tempted to take away your 'Diamond' status?

"There's no need to leave!" He rushes towards you, his right arm extended towards the door and body facing you. You back up quickly not wanting to make any accidental contact. You're unchaperoned in a private setting with a man... Please let no one come outside!

"I'm sorry if I startled you. I just realized you were holding onto yourself quite tightly... as if trying to heat up" he adds moving away from you as he stands up straight again. He must have realized how compromising this could seem.

"Oh! No, I'm actually comfortable... I'm just overthinking" you clarify for the mysterious, albeit handsome, man. You don't want him offering his jacket or anything of the sort. That would look even worse.

"Ah, I see. These types of events always bring out the worst in people" he laughs dryly as he shakes his head. It's almost as if he's recalling a specific memory. "I'm Harry, Duke Styles if you want specifics"

DUKE??? Your nighttime patio buddy is a DUKE?? This could not look any worse. You have to leave the secluded area now! Before anyone joins you and screams indecency.

Your panic must not be very well concealed as Har- Duke Styles, gets closer to you again with his hands raised.

"I'm not going to bite you, please don't panic" his hands are waiving slowly in front of your face. He's trying to demonstrate that he means no harm but all it does is make you jump back. Your mother would berate you if she knew what was happening right now. "What's your name?" he asks in a soft tone.

"Um, I'm... I'm Lady L/N" You somehow manage to speak in a slow and stuttering manner but it worked.

"The diamond?!" Oh god. He didn't even know. "How do you have time for a breather? Isn't your dance card full?" he sounds completely shocked.

You shake your head rapidly. It's the only answer you're able to give him before the patio door bursts open as a couple attached at the lips tumbles outside. They walk straight into Lord Styles, making his knees give out and then falling straight into you. His hands grasp your waist and arm seemingly trying to get himself straight up on his feet again. He fails. He keeps falling unfortunately dragging you down with him. His left hand, the one holding your arm, quickly moves to the back of your head before it makes contact with the stone floor. The other at your waist stays there but his grip tightens, you can feel it firmly through your corset.

The couple has separated from one another and they are now looking at you both in shock. They were most likely not expecting anyone outside. They are speaking, well you think so. Their lips and arms move erratically but there's only a high-pitched ringing in your ears.

The hand on the back of your head tilts it away from them, your eyes meet Lord Styles. They are wide, worried, panicked. You're not sure why.

He's talking too but he must be whispering as the ringing is still the only thing you hear. It's getting annoying; you want to know what he's saying to you. It seems important.

Your vision blurs right before it darkens completely. You've passed out not even knowing of the commotion you've caused.

Tule, satin, silk, needles, charcoal drawings on the walls, books scattered on various surfaces... Where have you found yourself now? You seem to be in a study of some sort that also serves as a studio. You manage to sit up slowly, the pounding in your head spiking for a second before it settles.

"Mother?" you call out in a weak voice. How did you get here? Or better yet, who put you in here? No one answers your call so, at a snail's pace, you manage to get into a standing position. Your legs are stronger than you thought they would be, aiding you in your quest to figure out where in the Queen's name you are.

As soon as you leave the study your eyes burn because of the bright sunlight streaming in the hallway you now find yourself in. Blinking a few times makes your eyes adjust quicker making you able to tune into your other senses.

You hear mumbling, a few different voices leak out of the room right next to where you had been sleeping. You try to make out what they saying but nothing makes sense in your mind. You can't even hear them enough to confirm if you know any of the voices.

Not even considering that some may think it rude or even improper you open the door and make your way inside.

Lord Styles is the first on his feet; almost seems like a knee-jerk reaction. His posture is tight, and uncomfortable he is standing straight as a ruler as he looks at you with a terrified expression.

"My darling!" your mother rushes to you as fast as she can with her swollen feet and round stomach slowing her usual pace.

She brushes your hair out of your face before embracing you. She holds you tight but carefully as if to not break you.

"How do you feel?" she asks you once she pulls away.

"Fine, I think. My head hurts quite a bit but it's bearable" You smile at her reassuring as your gaze drifts back to the man still statuesque in the middle of the room. You don't find words to say but you do walk towards him. You don't like seeing him this uncomfortable... especially in what seems to be his estate.

"This is yours? The house?" you ask him gently. His eyes meet yours and the tension seems to bleed out a little. He's a bit more at ease seeing that you are polite and cordial with him.

"Yes, we thought it was best to bring you back here... less scandalous" He gestures to your father and he only nods back as an answer.

"Less scandalous?" you look around the room, at the three people surrounding you with different expressions on their faces. Your mother; excited, your father; thoughtful, Lord Style's; embarrassed?

"Why is your estate less scandalous, Lord Styles?" you meet his eyes, hoping to somehow be able to read his mind. Figure out why he's so closed off now. He did seem pretty willing to talk to you on the pat-

The patio. Oh my. The patio!

"Why am I here Father?" your headache spikes when you turn your head rapidly towards him. His expression tells you all

that you need to know. You're now engaged. There's no scandal because you're going to wed Duke Harry Styles.

"An outdoor wedding would be gorgeous this time of year, don't you think so Y/N?" your father smiles at you kindly. He's happy with the man you've managed to "score", even if it isn't a love match like him and your mother.

You only nod at him before looking back at Lord Styles, whom you find to be already looking in your direction. He meets your gaze and bows his head in a polite gesture, welcoming you. Welcoming you in your new home, into your new life as a Duchess.

The wedding is set to happen in 9 days. The first wedding of this year's courting season. Your mother has been on top of everything, she's practically planning the whole thing. You and Lord Styles, your fiancée, let her do it... after all this was a surprise to both of you.

Today you're choosing your wedding dress. The last dress that you'll wear as the incredibly eligible and sought-after diamond. The dress you'll become a bride and then a wife in. You'll become a duchess, Duchess Styles...

"What do you think of this one, dear?" your mother is holding a white gown with delicate baby pink embroidered flowers all over it. You nod approvingly making your way back behind the changing partition as she brings it over to you. It's only the second one you're trying on so your spirits are still high. Madame Delacroix, the modiste, was much too eager to have you wear one of her gowns on your big day. Said it was "Perfect marketing!" and she led you to her newest collection that was apparently straight from France.

You manage to slide it on with no issues and as you're about to ask the modiste for some help with the clasp in the back you hear a voice you don't recognize say your name. You stay quiet hoping to hear what they are saying.

"You haven't read Lady Whistledown yet?! This one is so juicy, she talks about Duke Styles and the Diamond"

"Please tell me you have a copy of it on you! I need to know how that happened"

Are people really this eager to know how you got engaged?

After the first girl presumably pulls out a copy of whatever they were talking about they start reading it aloud.

"But how could I forget to mention the most surprising moment of the courting season yet? London's own most wanted bachelor, Duke Harry Styles, has found a worthy bride. He does shoot for the stars, doesn't he? Or rather in the mines... as the newest Duchess soon joining the ton is Lady L/N, the Diamond.

However, the choice seems to have been made by herself and herself only. Who wouldn't throw themselves at him just to be caught in a compromising position? I certainly would! Her parents must be so proud to have such a stellar whore seductress presented this season.

The hopefully happy couple already share a house, how warm is the Duke's bed? Has Lady Y/N done what so many other noble women have wanted to do?

Congratulations to the happy couple... See you at the wedding!

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown"

Your blood runs cold, you're frozen in place after hearing what was written about you. You don't even know who these two girls are, who the writer is or where this paper comes from. Is that really what people think of you? That you whored yourself to Duke Styles to secure a wealthy and powerful man? You haven't made a single friend yet and now this is what people are saying about you, how are you meant to live amongst them now?

You quickly undress yourself of the wedding gown and get back into your dress, you somehow manage to clasp it yourself. Before running out of the boutique you hand the dress back to your mother and take a quick look at the girls that were just gossiping.

They are already looking at you with wide eyes and shocked expressions. Well, at least that's what you think their reaction is to seeing you practically trip out of the shop.

You don't hear what your mother calls out to you, too concerned with the humiliation pumping throw your veins. You need to get back to the Dukes manor as soon as you possibly can. You're grateful to have ridden here separately from your mother so you don't have to leave her stranded with no carriage and very pregnant. The ride back feels never-ending... How can you ever face the ton again?

The bath water is almost boiling, perfect to wash away the shame you felt. Your mind is all over the place. Nothing you can come up with will fix this, you're stuck labelled as some desperate whore. Does your betrothed know who this woman is? What those papers are? If anyone and everyone reads what she writes about other people? The lies she creates to make things interesting... You didn't even manage to find a gown you liked for the wedding... You might now not even be able to face the public, would the Queen allow a private wedding for her diamond? Probably not.

"Oh! I'm sorry I didn't know you were back" For the second time today your blood runs cold. The scorching hot water feels icy against your skin as you look up to meet Duke Styles's gaze.

He is also stuck where he is. His feet seemingly glued to the floor, one hand holding the door handle and the other stopped halfway done unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes leave your face and trail down your nude body under the water. No man has ever looked at these parts of you, he isn't supposed to see them until your wedding night.

He swallows when his gaze snaps back to yours, probably just registering what he was doing.

"I'll let you bathe, sorry for interrupting" he turns around quickly but before he can close the door you call out to him.

"Who's Lady Whistledown?" your voice cracks halfway, desperate to get an answer that no worker has answered. Not the chariot driver, not the gardener, not even the maids that helped prepare the bath everyone avoided your question. "Why did she write about me, my lord? About us?"

He takes a few seconds to walk back into the room but eventually comes in and shuts the door.

He sees there is a small stool in the corner of the room, the maid has used it to undo your hairdo when you got in the bath. He grabs it and places it next to the tub, close to where your face is. He sits facing you with one of his arms resting on the edge, trying to look nonchalant.

"Call me Harry, no need for formalities between us" is the first thing he says, you nod as your answer.

Before speaking again he takes in a deep breath and wipes down his face, looking for a way to explain this.

"You read it?" your voice is meek, he saw that she called you a whore. He read that you threw yourself at him to trap him.

"I did. Only because the men at the club told me to" he answers honestly. "I told them that what she wrote was wrong. That yes our marriage was unexpected but not an entrapment"

"Did they believe you?"

"Yes, after I told that I am very satisfied with my future wife. How lucky I am to have such a gorgeous lady share my house, such a smart lady in my life. They wouldn't dare question me or us" his words shock you. You didn't know if he was satisfied with you or your engagement. There hadn't been a conversation about it but you're happy to hear he doesn't resent you.

Harry seems to read your mind and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, he lets his hand fall to your shoulder after.

"She called me a whore, a seductress. I've never even let a suitor hug me... Much less seduced one" his eyes bore into you. They are enchanting and so inviting. You want him to look at you this way always like you're the only thing he could ever look at so attentively.

"That's what she does... Last season she almost destroyed Lady Eloise Bridgerton... You haven't met her yet but she didn't leave her manor for the rest of the season" his hand is rubbing from shoulder to shoulder, pinky finger grazing the very top of your breasts at each movement. You don't move or break the eye contact it feels good.

"The ton eats her words up but don't waste time thinking about what she thinks, she is a coward saying all of this nonsense anonymously" he shakes his head disapprovingly.

"So there is no Lady Whistledown in the ton? Is it an alias?" your questions stays unanswered but it is obvious that is what he was saying. No one knows who she is or rather who they are.

Harry's hand has travelled lower without you even noticing he's gone past the water and travels from your chest to your stomach. It seems casual and natural like you've done this a million times before.

Silence stretches as you take in the small amount of information about this person who spreads false claims about you and the man currently exploring your body.

He is now going up and down your legs switching legs once in a while. You don't know what he's doing or why he's doing it but it feels so intimate... so good that you don't stop him, you don't want him to.

You will bear his heirs and pleasure him when he wants you to but what he is doing now seems to actually pleasure you. His fingers graze your core and you gasp as the sensation takes you by surprise. This breaks the trance he had been in as he rips his hand away from your body and out of the water then out of the room before you can even get a single word out.

You finished your bath shortly after with your skin still tingling from where Harry had touched you. The ghost of his fingertips exploring places no one has touched not even yourself. You wanted to see how far he'd go, what he would do to you, how he would keep exploring your naked body. Seeking him out feels desperate but you have to know how far he was willing to take you. Was he just as affected by the intimacy? You knock at his chamber door softly praying that he doesn't reject you. "Come in" you hear him speak through the thick wooden door.

You quickly smooth out your sleeping gown before making your way into his chambers. This is the first time you've been in them, the amount of fabric, mannequins and art around the room surprises you. You had previously seen his work room where he designs and creates many different clothes but you had no idea he had more where he rests. You find Lord Styles lying on his large bed with one arm covering his eyes. He hasn't realized that's it you that's walked in yet so you take some time to look over his designs. You see some suits, daywear, and gowns of all kinds but then you stumble upon one that is called "My Bride". You pull it out from under some other sketches. The gown he's drawn is breathtaking, tight bodice detailed with what you think must be lace and gemstones, there's many layers of lace going downwards towards the bottom of the dress giving the impression of a flower that has not yet bloomed. He's added a simple shawl to the sketch which just adds to the elegance of the look.

"Would you make this dress for me?" your voice is loud in the otherwise quiet room. Harry startles on the bed, clearly not expecting you, sitting up quickly. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before looking at the paper you are holding.

"I can, if you want me to make it for you I will" he nods looking back up, studying your face.

"I'd like that" you smile "I'm much too ashamed to go back to the modistes anyway..." you put the drawing back down on his desk. At this point, you are only pretending to be looking around his space. Your goal is to make your way to his bed... try to get him to touch you again.

"There's no need for you to be ashamed. They should be ashamed, the ton is over-critical of newcomers" he leans back on his hands the now completely unbuttoned shirt falls off of his torso, revealing it.

"I suppose so... it's still disheartening to think that people think like that about me" you sigh walking towards him again. His eyes don't leave you he seems to be analyzing you, your actions, your body, everything.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" he tilts his head in thought, "Threaten anyone who looks at you wrongly? Find this Lady Whistledown and burn her out of existence?"

"You..." Okay, deep breaths, this is when you'll make your move, "You can touch me again... Keep doing what you were doing?" the pitch of your voice is much higher than usual as you finish your suggestion. You avoid meeting his gaze, too embarrassed to look at his reaction.

What you hear isn't an answer but the sound of him moving on his bed, towards you? God, you hope so. You still don't totally understand what his touch made you feel or why it has you craving for more. You don't even really know what "more" means.

"I wouldn't want to ruin you as some say" he guides your head towards him, forcing you to meet his eyes, so intense and inviting.

"Well, they already think you have... I just want you to make me feel good" You don't back down keep your eyes on his.

"Have you ever made yourself feel good?" Harry's voice is deeper than you've ever heard, it sends a shiver down your spine.

You shake your head as an answer, the ability to speak lost when he placed his hands on your hips. He tugs you forward, bringing you so much closer to him it makes you flush. He hums in understanding, still debating if he should do this or not... but the look on your face, the curiosity and the neediness makes his decision very easy.

He gently pulls you to lay down on his luxurious bed, the silky sheets and soft mattress feel glorious. You could stay in his bed all day long.

"Don't you resent me? I cut your first courting season quite short" he gently pecks your cheek before gliding across your lips to do the same to the other. You unconsciously follow his lips trying to have them meet yours again, you're already in a mental fog of pleasure and he's barely touched you.

"Can't answer, doll? Mh... don't worry I'll make you feel good" That's when he kisses you. Properly.

You let him take complete control as you've never kissed anyone. You don't want to make it unenjoyable for him or yourself so you follow his lead. His hands slowly bunch your nightgown up revealing more and more skin, skin that he is now seeing for the second time. He separates from your lips to look down at you, to admire your figure. Goosebumps spread all over as he delicately rubs his hands up and down your thighs spreading them apart adding him in lying down between them.

His face is inches away from your most private parts. Parts that have never been seen by anyone but your aids when getting dressed or cleaned. To aid him you didn't put any underclothing on, hoping he would accept your request. So, he's staring directly at you, making you flush from embarrassment.

"You want me to do this, gorgeous, you're sure?" your eyes meet his. His expression is unreadable, you've never had someone look at you like that. Like he wants to eat you whole.

"Please Duke Styles" you answer in a soft voice, he smirks at your answer and immediately gets to work.

What you're feeling is something completely new, foreign, unbelievably good; The curl of your toes as his mouth meets the skin you've never even explored yourself, the arch your body does and the loud gasp that slips past your lips. Who knew you could feel this way? Why did no one tell you that you could feel so unbelievably good?

Your hands grab onto the edges of the pillow you're lying on and you try to meet his gaze or maybe just to see what he's doing looks like.

Harry's eyes are already on you, your gazes meet easily, his pupils are dilated and his brows furrowed. He's so concentrated...

His tongue circles your clit sucking at it before letting his free hand join. His middle finger teases your entrance, not wanting to take your purity, he'll be somewhat of a gentleman and keep that for the wedding night.

"Ah! Harry" you moan desperately, desperate for something you don't even know, begging for him to keep going. You have an urge to shut your legs together but Harry's pushes onto your left one, keeping it pinned to the mattress.

The hand that was teasing your hole slowly goes up your nightgown, touching your skin delicately as he works his way up to grab your breast. His hand is warm on your chest, grabbing and massaging the skin he reaches.

He uses your slight distraction to prod his tongue inside of you exploring the few inches he's able to reach. Maybe exploring your inside isn't so bad... You'll be married no matter what happens...

His hand leaves your chest and makes its way back down, circling your bud. He can feel how close you are so he zeroes in. Lost in your pleasure and on his quest to make you feel good. Make you forget about the judgement the ton regards you with. He pinches your clit making your body lock up and your breath hitch but Harry doesn't stop. He keeps going until your whole body is spasming against his mattress until you're unable to make a sound with your mouth agape in pleasure.

You don't feel anything besides the tingling going from the tip of your fingers to the tip of your toes and the ends of your hair. Your heartbeat slowly stops being so erratic and your breathing calms down. As you start wondering where Harry has gone you feel a damp cloth rubbing against your intimates. You shiver at the feeling, obviously still sensitive, flinching when he gets close to your sensitive bud.

"How do you feel, my lady?" Harry's voice is soft and tender. Probably trying to preserve the warm atmosphere around both of you.

You hum positively as an answer, words lost as you meet his intense gaze.

"Cats got your tongue?" his tone is teasing. He throws the cloth away and joins you on the bed. You shake your head with a smile.

"I'm lost in thought" is the first thing you say to him, "I will be for a while after that" you sigh dreamily as you get comfortable in his sheets.

"Mh, maybe we should rush the wedding, get the Queens blessing for her diamond to wed in a rush... you won't speak a week after what I'll do to you" You just might have to march into the royal palace first thing in the morning.

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine

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potatoplace · 23 days ago

Text

So Long, London

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | betty (part 2)| next part

the 1 masterlist (alt endings) | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: An illness spreads through Velaris, primarily impacting new mothers and their young, and you and your child are not spared. Azriel continues to make questionable choices, even as your life lays in the balance.

Warnings: suicide attempt mentions, illness leading to disability, infidelity, Azriel is as expected for this series...

Words: ~5.6k

Author's Note: So I reaaally wanted to get this out in one part, but I have cute fluffy plans for Reader's future in the Day Court. This should be the last of the full on angst in this ending of 'the 1,' after this installment it should be primarily happy times! Also... Can I just say how sorry I am to Azriel? Because in this series I cannot seem to give him one redeeming quality. He's just a total piece of shit the entire time. Aaaanways. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

It was nearly eight months since Nova’s birth when a mysterious illness ravaged Velaris, primarily effecting young children and their mothers.

And you and your precious baby girl were no exception.

Nova had stopped sleeping for longer than an hour, and refusing all solid foods. She was barely taking the milk you tried to ply her with, her tiny mouth refusing to suckle on the bottle you offered her.

You weren’t feeling much better, and by the time you managed to struggle your way to Madja’s clinic, you were on the verge of passing out.

Your mate was nowhere to be found, and no amount of you tugging on the frail bond summoned him to your side, brought him to comfort you and help care for your baby.

You just barely made it inside the door, Madja’s worried face greeting you as she took in your weakened state, the crying babe in your arms, the lack of your mate by your side. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and just before you fell to the floor Madja was able to take Nova from your arms.

When you woke later, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your lungs and throat burning in pain.

It almost felt like the bond was broken again.

“Oh, thank the mother Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre’s worried voice said, a cool hand running across your forehead.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting at the light above you.

You were back in your room in the River House.

“Nova, is she-” you started to ask, attempting to sit up, but Feyre shushed you and gently pushed you back into the bed.

“Nova is fine, she’s recovering well so far, and she’s even taking soft foods again. You got her here in time,” Feyre said softly, and you let out a relieved breath. Nova is safe. “Madja managed to make a medicine to combat the illness, though it appears to be more effective in children. I was more worried for you, if I’m being honest…”

Feyre’s eyes were watery as she looked down at you, and the situation was so similar to after you had attempted to take your life, the only change being that your other two sisters were missing.

Not for long, though, as your sisters entered the room in the next minute, Nova in their arms.

She looked to be doing so much better than before, her cheeks their normal rosy red and her cute little lips curved up into a smile, which only widened once she saw you, her beautiful hazel eyes growing larger. Her tiny hands reached out for you, wings fluttering as she tried to leave Elain’s arms.

“Can I- is it safe for me to hold her?” You asked, hoping more than ever before that you would be able to. The last time you had held her, she had been so sick, you needed to feel her healthy in your arms again. You pushed yourself up to lay against the headboard, surprised at how tired you were from that action alone. Your lungs and throat felt like they were on fire with each breath, and Feyre quickly gave you a sip of cold water to soothe it.

“I don’t see why not, she won’t be able to get sick again with the medicine still being administered,” Madja’s strong voice said as she entered the room behind your sisters, making her way to your side. Feyre scooted back to give her space to examine you, and Elain quickly placed your precious little girl in your arms.

And everything felt right again, her adorable face staring up at you, hands grabbing at your face. Even as your arms ached from the weight of her, you welcomed it as long as you had her.

Your sweet, guiding light. Your reason for being, ever since you had fallen pregnant.

“Do you know where Azriel is?” You asked quietly as Madja waved her hands over you, examining you with her magic.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of Nesta at the question, and she snarled, “No. In the night and day that you’ve been unconscious, the stupid bat hasn’t managed to show his face here once. You would think that his mate and child being sick would warrant an appearance from whatever bullshit he’s busy with.”

You sighed, but nodded your head. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s something important. Nova is the most important thing to him in the world.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Elain placed a gentle hand on your leg.

“I’m sure you’re right, Y/N. And I’m just so happy that you and Nova are doing better, we were so worried for you,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

You smiled at Elain. The two of you had gotten nearly as close as you and Feyre in the past two years since… Everything happened, and you were delighted to be her confidant as she pursued the bond with Lucien, loving to hear about how much they actually had in common, including their love for nature.

It was so nice to hear about a happy courtship for you sister, one that you had nothing to be jealous about.

Except… Maybe the way that Lucien looked at her, like she was the sun that his world revolved around.

Azriel had never looked at you like that, not even during the mating frenzy…

You looked back at Nova, her hands now tangled in your hair and a beaming smile on her face, chubby cheeks nearly covering her eyes.

Nova was your sun, that was certain.

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to advise that you stay on bedrest for the next few weeks, I want you to fully recover from this. Your lungs have been damaged by the illness, and I want to prevent any more form happening,” Madja said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Damage?” Feyre asked before you could.

Madja sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid there will be long-lasting damage to your lungs, Y/N. You may no longer be able to run, or walk for long distances. You should be able to carry on with most of your everyday tasks,” she added, as if to console you.

“But… I may never be able to run after my daughter?” You pondered quietly, the thought breaking your heart as you looked at her.

“I’m afraid that might be the case. But, once you’re fully recovered from the illness itself, we can start building your stamina up again. I do hope that you’ll be able to play with Nova however you want,” Madja answered, giving a soft smile to your cooing child.

You nodded your head, attempting to process the information. “Will Nova have the same problems?”

“No, the medicine was effective enough to stop any damage from occurring, and you got her here before she was truly in trouble. You did an amazing job of taking care of her, Y/N.”

Tears pricked your eyes at her kind words.

You had kept her safe.

But as you clutched Nova to your chest, your arms started to tire, shaking slightly.

Feyre, eyes tracking your every movement, noticed. “Can I hold my sweet niece?” She asked, and you reluctantly passed her over, though you were grateful for Feyre giving you an out.

“I’ll have you take this medicine once every four hours, and Feyre can charm the clock to ring for you so you can rest as much as you need,” Madja said as she placed a bottle on your nightstand, next to your water glass.

“That won’t be necessary, at least one of us will be with her at all times,” Nesta said, a hand squeezing one of yours. You turned to look at her, and you were surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Thank you, Nes,” you whispered. “So I just… Lay here?”

“You’re welcome to do anything that doesn’t require you leaving the bed, so anything like reading, knitting, or sewing would be fine, I suppose. Just make sure you get plenty of sleep, alright?” You nodded your head, and Madja gave you a warm smile in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again."

And then you were left with your sisters and Nova, who was currently playing with Feyre’s necklace, sticking it in her mouth and sucking on the edge of the moon shaped pendant.

“Feyre, has Rhys had any luck finding Azriel?” Elain asked after a few minutes of all of you staring at Nova, each minute more adorable than the last, in your opinion.

“No, Rhys said his mental walls are still impenetrable without hurting him, but he’s doing his best to track him down,” Feyre said quietly.

You knew where he was.

Or, at least, you had a good idea.

Your mate, your husband had a… Habit… Of spending the night at other female’s homes.

Especially since Nova was born.

It had never lasted past the morning, though.

“It’s fine, he’ll show up at some point,” you said with a sad smile, locking your eyes onto Nova. “Could you get in bed with me FeyFey? That way we can cuddle Nova together.”

“Of course, sissy. Nova missed you, even just overnight. She’s such a momma’s girl,” Feyre cooed as she crawled under the covers with you, laying Nova across her chest so she was looking at you. “I hope my little one is as attached to me when they grow up.”

“Oh, you know that will happen FeyFey. There’s no way that little baby won’t absolutely adore you from birth, with how wonderful you are with Nova,” you assured her, bringing a hand up to caress Nova’s face.

“I agree with you, Y/N, you and Rhys will be such perfect parents. Just look at how the both of you are handling your pregnancy so far!” Elain said excitedly, crawling onto the foot of the bed. “And I can only hope that if Lucien and I have children, that I can be as amazing a mother as you are, Y/N. You make it look so easy, and Nova is so perfect.”

You blushed, though it was hardly noticeable with how warm your cheeks already were. “Thank you, ‘Lainey. I know you’ll be a great mother, you always seemed to have the most motherly instincts.”

Elain blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it will all start with Lucien and I agreeing to get married and mated fully. But that seems like it’s just around the corner, and I really hope it is. I just know he would be a wonderful father,” she said dreamily.

“Cassian would be good father, I think. Though I’m… Not sure that I would be a suitable mother,” Nesta admitted quietly, crawling under the covers on your other side.

“Oh, nonsense Nes. You’ll be a great mother, too. I didn’t think that I would be the best mother, either, but all it really takes is seeing their face that first time. The first little blink, seeing their eye color, getting to smell that sweet baby smell… Every little moment is so special, you never want it to end. You don’t think you’ll be good at it, Nes, but you will be wonderful. I know you will.”

Nesta leaned into you, her face against your shoulder. You could feel her smile, even as she tried to hide it. “Thank you, munchkin.”

“‘Lainey, get up here. It’s not the same without you snuggled up with us,” you demanded, patting the space next to Feyre.

“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got under the covers next to Feyre.

Within a few minutes, after taking your medicine and surrounded by your sisters and your sweet Nova next to you, you fell into a deep sleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

“Where were you?!”

“I was busy-”

“Oh? With what? What could be more important than your mate and child being sick?! What could be so important you couldn’t answer your High Lord and Lady within an hour?! Let alone twenty four?!”

“They’re sick?!”

“Yes, you fucking imbecile! Why do you think we were constantly trying to reach you?! Why your mate was unconscious?!”

“I don’t know, sometimes she shuts me out-”

“Oh, don’t try that, Azriel. We all know that Y/N is the one who actually cares about the bond, you just saunter around acting like you do while you’re in front of us.”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?!”

“Where do YOU get off treating our sister like trash?! If you didn’t want the fucking bond, why-”

“Enough! That is enough from the both of you. Y/N can hear you,” Rhys hissed, and the yelling quieted.

“Where were you, Azriel?” Feyre’s voice.

“I got caught up with some surveillance-”

“Oh, don’t bullshit us Az. We all know that you weren’t assigned anything last night, or this morning.” Cassian.

Silence.

“You- oh Cauldron, Azriel. I cannot believe you,” Rhys said, disgust dripping from his words. “Go in there and tell her. Or I will.”

“What?” Nesta asked. You could almost picture her looking between the two of them, a thunderous expression on her face. She always did hate being left in the dark.

You, though… You were in broad daylight, already knowing what Azriel had to tell you.

This would be the first true confirmation you had of his infidelity, though.

The door opened, the soft sound of the knob turning, and the gentle way he shut it behind him.

“Y/N, I…”

“Don’t, Azriel. I know.”

Footsteps, so quiet you could barely hear it. “You… You do?”

You sighed, rubbing at your chest to alleviate the pain that came with breathing. “Of course I do. Do you really think that your subtle? That your Spymaster abilities transfer over to your personal life? Because they never have.”

“Why did you stay?”

Another painful sigh. “Nova. She deserves two parents.” And I’ve held onto the foolish hope that you would one day love me for me.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N. Really, you have no idea how sorry I am. I have been a horrible, awful mate to you, but I will do better. I will do right by you, I swear.”

You looked away from his hazel eyes, those hazel eyes that you love so much.

Because you love him. You do.

“Okay. Go get Nova and come to bed.”

Azriel blinked at you. “Okay.”

And that was that. Azriel got Nova from Elain in the other room, who had taken her away at the first sign of arguing. He peeled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, then came under the sheets, snuggling up next to you with Nova on his chest, already fast asleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next month was spent entirely on bed rest, and still in your room at the River House.

Madja has told you it was fine for you to go back to your and Azriel’s home, but… You felt safer, knowing that your sisters were likely to be around, Feyre especially.

Your twin sister had been… Angered, to say the least, at Azriel’s treatment of you, though you’d calmed her to the point that she was mainly only being passive aggressive to your husband.

But once you were able to walk short distances, and manage a few stairs, you felt you had overstayed your welcome at the River House long enough.

Azriel had carried you home, followed closely by Feyre, carrying Nova in a sling across her chest.

You ached to be able to do that again, to be able to confidently hold your child even while standing.

The one good thing about bedrest? It gave you plenty of time to improve your knitting, sewing, and embroidery skills. Nova now had plenty of clothes for the next three months of growth, all fitted to work around her wings while keeping her as covered as possible.

You had already started on a large chest of clothes for Feyre’s expected child, wanting somehow to repay her for all the grief you had put her through over the past two years. And, it was nice to create something and see all of the joyful possibilities that could come with it.

Not that making clothes for Nova didn’t fulfill that for you too, but… It was more the lack of future that you continued to see with Azriel.

You want Nova to have her father in her life, that was true. Azriel was a wonderful father when he wasn’t busy with work or… Other obligations.

But as a mate…? You were left wanting, and hurt.

He did help you with your recovery, making sure that you got enough movement in every day and pushed yourself just enough to keep making progress.

But three months into you being home…

Azriel didn’t make it back in time for bed.

And you knew that you needed to leave.

Elain had come over the next morning, initially to say goodbye. She and Lucien were officially moving to the Day Court that evening, more than ready to start their life together in the court that Lucien would one day rule.

And so, you came up with your plan. Elain went to fetch Feyre and Nesta quickly, knowing that they would need to be told to make the plan a success.

You were on your bed, Nova in your arms when they arrived, bursting through the door frantically.

“You’re leaving?!” Nesta asked in disbelief.

You just nodded your head, running a soothing hand over Nova’s back.

“What prompted this, sissy?” Feyre asked as she sat down next to you.

You knew that they already knew. Or at least heavily suspected.

“Azriel didn’t come home last night… And I can’t do it anymore. Elain said that Lucien already asked Helion if I could join them when they move back when I first got sick and things were… Up in the air a bit.”

Nesta’s change in demeanor was instantaneous, going from disbelieving to thunderous anger, already prepared to burn your mate alive.

Feyre hugged you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, sissy. But if this is what you want, I’ll do anything I can to make it happen. Just promise me you’ll come visit at some point? And of course we’ll come visit you and Nova as much as we can manage.”

“Of course, FeyFey, I wouldn’t dream of staying away forever… Just, if Azriel could… Not be over while I am, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be having a talk with Rhys about possibly banning him from Velaris for all but court duties. I cannot believe that he would do this to you again.”

“Well, we should get packing up the things Azriel won’t notice, Y/N. Just in case he does come home tonight.”

You scoffed quietly. “Unlikely…”

Your sisters helped you pack up most of your and Nova’s clothing, along with all of your crafting supplies. When it became apparent that your mate was out again, tarnishing the bond between you, the four of you quickly finished up, grabbing all of Nova’s favorite things, including the baby blanket that Azriel had painstakingly made for her while you were pregnant.

Nesta stayed behind, having agreed to wait at the town house for Azriel to return, whenever that may be. As disappointed and betrayed as you were by Azriel, you still made her promise to not physically harm him more than a punch to the jaw. Or a kick to the groin.

Feyre winnowed your things first, then Elain, and finally you and Nova, held tightly in your arms as you sped through the fabric of the world for the first time in over two years.

And hopefully the last time, as you had to quickly pass Nova off to Feyre, your lungs on fire from the pressure of winnowing, a long coughing fit overtaking you.

Once you had recovered yourself, you finally had a chance to take in your surroundings.

The hall you had landed in was grand and bright, made of shining marble that reflected the sun's rays beautifully.

In front of you was a male you didn't recognize, but the power rolling off of him in waves and the shine to his skin told you all you needed to know.

Helion, High Lord of Day.

"And you must be Y/N, Elain's sister. Welcome to the Day Court," Helion said warmly as he turned his eyes to you. "And this must be little Nova, Lucien has told me so much about this cutie!"

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you, High Lord. And thank you, truly, for what you've done for us. I... I don't know what I would have done, if not for your generosity."

"Oh, call me Helion, love. And it is no trouble at all, any family of Elain's is family of mine now. Plus... I heard some of what happened, and no person deserves to be treated as you were. I am happy to open my home to you and your little one for as long as you need."

Tears pricked at your eyes against your wishes. "Thank you, Helion."

"Yes Helion, thank you so much for helping our sister out. I am deeply saddened by the fact that I could not provide her with a home where she would be left alone by Azriel," Feyre said, clasping Helion's hands in hers. "And... I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to ban Azriel from your court? I know that as soon as he knows they've left, he'll be out searching for them."

"It would be my pleasure!" Helion replied happily, a bright grin covering his face, radiating happiness like the sun. "I absolutely despise those who do not cherish their loved ones, and if I'm being honest... It would be fun to send him back to the Night Court by the scruff of his neck."

You couldn't help the quiet giggle that left your lips at the mental image you had produced. Nova looked up at you at the sound, her own lips curling up at the edges.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled into your rooms. Feyre, you're welcome to accompany us if you'd like," Helion offered.

Feyre shook her head. "I should be getting back, I still need to explain everything to Rhys. But if it's acceptable, I will visit in the morning and see how the three of you are settling in. Especially you, little Nova," she cooed at your child, who extended her hands to her aunt.

"That would be lovely, Feyre. Send a note ahead of your arrival and I'll make sure there is breakfast waiting for you, or tea if you come a bit later in the morning. Safe travels, High Lady," Helion said. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy! I'll try to keep the news to myself."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You'd better, High Lord." She turned her eyes to you and Elain, and gave both of you big hugs, and a soft kiss on Nova's forehead. "I'll see the three of you in the morning, alright?"

"We'll see you then, Fey. Winnow safely, okay?" Elain said.

"Oh, I will. Sleep well, and give lots of goodnight kisses to little Nova for me!"

And then she was gone, leaving you in the entrance hall with Helion and Elain.

"Lets get the three of you to your room, hmm? It's been a long night, I'm sure," Helion said softly, and began leading you to your new home for the foreseeable future.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

Nesta was sat in the darkness of the town house, your former home, stewing in her rage.

How- how had Azriel done this to you again?!

First, you nearly died after he rejected the bond from the overwhelming pain it caused you. And yes, your choice to jump was your own.

But he had promised to you that he would be a good mate. That he would be worthy of you.

Then, you nearly died again while he was nowhere to be found, your child together also gravely ill until Madja had managed to create an effective medicine. And you were permanently harmed by it, barely able to navigate a set of stairs on your own.

And all because he had been out, fucking some other female while he left his mate and child at home during a wave of illness attacking that very population.

To think, you could have been given the help you needed hours earlier, and could possibly have avoided the disability following you now.

And after all that, you had still forgiven him.

You, her sweetest and most caring sister, the one who had never turned her back on any of you. On her.

Nesta knew that she had been an awful person to you, growing up in that rundown shack. And she had ignored you after turning fae, too concerned with her own changed body to bother to apologize to you.

In the time since your fall, Nesta had done her best to do right by you, to be the elder sister that you needed. While she wasn’t the best at comforting others, she was a good listener. She had payed careful attention to you ever since, doing her best to catch any concerning behaviors.

And when you were pregnant with Nova, Nesta had been nearly as protective of you as Azriel, taking the time to walk you to your favorite shops and make sure that you were eating properly.

That should have been her sign that something was wrong.

She should have done something, confronted your bastard of a mate. But there was no changing the past, only the future.

And Nesta would do her damned best at keeping you safe from harm, even a court’s distance away.

And that would start with ripping the Shadowsinger to shreds.

Verbally. You had made her promise to not actually hurt Azriel, beyond a punch to the jaw.

Nesta thought that a punch to the throat would be much more effective. And maybe a knee to the groin.

Just a little something to give him a taste of the pain that you existed in because of his mistakes- if you could even call them that at this point.

No, they seemed to be thought out decisions to betray your trust, to tarnish the bond that he had rejected and forced back to life.

Silver flames threatened to spill from her fingers, ready to burn the male alive, if only she would loose them on him.

Feyre had appeared in the town house about ten minutes after taking you, Elain, and Nova to the Day Court, a soft smile on her face.

“How did it go?”

“Oh, Helion already seems obsessed with Nova, and he was very welcoming to her and Y/N. I think it will be a good change for them. And he agreed to ban Azriel from his court, which solves the possible problem of him tracking them down and trying to force Y/N to come back. I know… I know that she’s serious about this, but she still loves him, even now. I was worried that she might take him back, if he begged enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Unlikely. The fact that she left without even a note makes me think that she’s done with him, no matter what honeyed words he could try to pour in her ears. The main reasons she stayed after getting sick was to let Nova know her father.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Feyre sighed. “I need to go talk to Rhys, let him know what happened. And honestly, I want to see if he’ll allow me to ban Azriel from Velaris except for his court duties.”

Nesta shook her head, not believing that Rhys would cave to her request. “Good luck with that, Fey.”

“Thanks, Nes. Let me know when the asshole shows up, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done talking to Rhys.”

“I will.”

Feyre left the house quietly, and Nesta was alone in the darkness once more, rage building a burning fire in her body as she contemplated just what she was going to yell at him.

Five hours later, when the sun had just began to creep over the horizon, the front door opened.

Azriel came into the sitting room, but upon seeing Nesta sitting in the darkness, he stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is where were you?” Nesta hissed, satisfied when a flash of fear crossed the Shadowsinger’s face.

Feyre, he’s here.

I’ll be over in a few minutes.

“I was out in Illyria, making sure there were no wing clippings happening.”

“Liar.”

“Oh? And how would you know, Nesta? Are you might High Lord or Lady? Do you assign me my duties?”

“No. But Feyre had already informed me that you had no work tonight, that you were supposed to spend the week leading up to Nova’s first birthday entirely at home. So. Where were you?”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him, and he turned his attention to looking for something.

He didn’t find it.

“Where…?” He started, panic flooding his scent. “Where are my mate and child?!” He roared, stomping over to Nesta, who had stood from her place on the couch.

“Somewhere you will never see them again.”

And then Nesta struck, first a knee to his groin, followed up by a satisfying fist to his throat. She relished in the pained noises coming from him, summoning her flames once he had recovered.

“You are lucky that Y/N made me promise not to hurt you more,” Nesta seethed as she backed him into a corner. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Y/N was too kind to take you back, when all you do is hurt her! You never deserved her, you never deserved a mate at ALL! And Nova is lucky to not be raised by such a disgusting person, by someone who only lies and cheats and hurts others.”

Azriel was silent, his head hung low, even as Nesta could scent his rage.

“Azriel.” Rhys’s voice, filled with the authority of a High Lord. “You need to leave. You are no longer welcome in Velaris, except when explicitly allowed.”

Azriel’s head whipped to the front door, where Rhys and Feyre were standing, matching angered expressions on their faces.

“But I-”

“No. You have been given chance after chance to change how you act, how you treat members of this family. And I will not stand for you continuing to live here, even with Y/N and Nova gone,” Feyre snarled. “You can live in the Court of Nightmares or Illyria. But Velaris is no longer your home.”

Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked between Feyre and Rhys, in disbelief at the situation. “Rhys, you can’t be serious-”

“Deadly. And this is an order from your High Lord and Lady: do not attempt to search for them. Y/N does not want you in her or Nova’s life, and you will respect that. Do you understand?” Rhys asked, but there was only one answer that Azriel could give.

“Yes.” His voice was angry as he gave in to his High Lord’s demand. “Will you at least tell me where they are?” He growled as he glared at the three of them.

“No. You do not get to have any information about them, unless Y/N permits it. You do not deserve to know where they are, what health they are in, anything. Azriel, you disgust me. Y/N has given you so many chances to redeem yourself, but you have disappointed her every time.” Feyre’s voice was deadly calm, but her hatred was bubbling beneath the surface. “My twin has been a saint to you, and you have done nothing but hurt her. The one good thing you have done is give her Nova. And if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

Azriel gaped at her, and looked at Rhys.

“You should go. Pack what you want, but by the end of today, you are no longer welcome in Velaris,” Rhys said coldly.

The three of them stayed in the living room as Azriel went upstairs, their ears perking up at the gasp he let out when he saw your shared bedroom, emptied of your effects.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

All of your fabrics and threads, the thimble set that Nesta had gifted you, custom designed just for your birthday last year, the baby blanket that he had made for Nova, all of your clothes- they were all gone.

You had left him!

Surely, you weren’t serious. This was just a ploy to get his attention, to make him take the bond seriously again. His family downstairs must be in on it, just trying to go along with your wishes.

So he packed his bags, taking everything that was vital to him. He went into Nova’s room, where she rarely stayed, but her things were kept, and the pain hit him.

Seeing her room with none of her clothes or toys strewn about, none of the life in it, hurt. It hurt more than seeing that you had left.

He would find you. And he would bring you home.

You and Nova belong with him.

And he would show you that.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222 @mellowmusings @romantasyreader28

#so long london #betty #the 1 #azriel x archeron!reader #azriel x reader #az x reader #azriel x reader angst #az x reader angst #azriel angst #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #archeron!reader #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #tato writes

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norrizzandpia · 1 year ago

Text

London Boy (LN4)

Summary: In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl

Warnings: mentions of family trauma, but it’s really light, FLUFFFFFFFFFFF

Note: I promise I will stop doing song imagines. I already have a regular imagine in the works, THIS ONE WAS JUST TOO GOOD TO PASS UP 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Word Count: 4,377

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal and you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee Whiskey, but something happened. I heard him laughing. I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent.

When Y/n had been invited to the British Grand Prix, she was as excited as she could be. She wasn’t really educated when it came to F1, seeing as she had only heard of it twice in all her life. Nonetheless, it was a girls trip with her best friends, Paige and Lily, so she was eager to go anyway.

However, as she stood in the middle of the Paddock with coffee down her shirt and jeans, her views on the sport turned sour. The moment had transpired in seconds as she hurriedly walked down the street with her friends to get to their suite. She had heard a group of men laughing, one of the laughs standing out as more of a cackle, before her shoulder was crashing into another’s and hot liquid was seeping into her clothes.

“Shit!” The clothes clung to her, burning her body completely. Her eyes snapped up to be met with the chin of a man wearing orange, her gaze moving up to be met with dimples that were disappearing rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His British accent bled into his voice as he frantically gave her a once over, assessing for damage.

She would have been more mad if she hadn’t found him so attractive. His tan skin and muscular body only lessened the fuel in her fire as she listened to his charming british accent.

“I can pay for the clothes.” He said once more, sounding as if he was trying to grab her attention.

Her eyes met his, “Um, no, it’s okay.” She pulled at the clothes, shifting uncomfortably under the still scalding temperature.

“Here, my teammate’s girlfriend probably has something you can change into. I can take you to her if that works?” He asked timidly, gesturing around like she was near.

Y/n tilted her head, “Your teammate?”

She really had no knowledge of the sport. She assumed each brand had one driver because, in her mind, why would they need more?

The man chuckled as her American accent dawned on him and he realized she had no clue who he was, “Yeah, you can bring your friends if you want?” He tried once more, looking behind her.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, her friends’ mouths gaping open as they quickly nodded their heads for them to go with him, “Okay, that works.”

—

Lily held up a pair of blue jeans and a black bodycon shirt with a smile, “Try these on?”

Y/n smiled timidly, her friends were seemingly freaking out over the people in the room, but she didn’t understand why, “Thank you.”

Thankfully, the clothes fit her well, hugging her waist and doing wonders for the curves of her body. Stepping out of the bathroom and back into the room, she found Paige, Lily, and Teammate’s Lily as well as the man she had come to know, Lando.

“Better?” He asked as he walked up to her with an apologetic smile.

She returned it, “Yeah, a lot.”

They continued looking at each other for a few moments before Paige was clearing her throat and the two were separating. As the three girls grouped together, moving out of the room and toward the exit, Lando’s loud voice flooded their ear drums.

“Y/n! Wait!” His accent yelled as he ran over to them. Catching his breath with his phone in hand, he looked at Y/n with a toothy grin, “Let me take you out to dinner as an apology?”

The two girls beside her gasped as she nodded and put her number in his phone.

–

They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives. Ya know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you.

If you had told the y/h/c haired girl that day on the Paddock that the man who had spilled caffeine on her was successful and talented Lando Norris, driver for Mclaren, she would have laughed in your face. After multiple dates together and Lando feeling guilty at her still clueless self, he informed her of his rather rare occupation. She had been taken aback, not seeing him as some famous celebrity who had girls falling at his feet. He was so down to Earth and nice, even when she knew, she didn’t believe it.

It was around 5 months into the relationship when he asked her to come visit him on his vacation to London, telling her he wanted to show her around his hometown. Over the phone, she had asked him if this was his way of asking her to meet his family and she could hear the shy smile in his voice as he said, “What would you say if I said ‘yes’?”

With a smile on her face, she had excitedly told him to tell her when and she’d be there. Bags in hand at 4 AM, she had said goodbye to her best friends and assured them she would call every night over the next 2 weeks to fill them in on her “whirlwind romance with a celeb”. Their words, not hers.

To say she was giddy when her eyes met him from across Heathrow was an understatement. The way his glasses, baseball cap, and face mask failed to hide his smiling face and ecstatic demeanor warmed her heart. Instead of running over to him like she knew the both of them wanted, she walked cooly in his direction, not wanting to draw any attention to him and the relationship they were trying to keep under wraps. Upon reaching him, his arms wrapped around her middle, his face burying in her neck and inhaling the scent he had missed so much, as the two whispered words of longing and love in the other’s ear.

When he pulled back and his eyes landed on her smile, he tilted his head and gazed at the feature on her face he had grown to adore so much.

“Lando,” She giggled as her eyes clocked the way he lingered on her beam. His name on her lips forced him to move his eyes up, meeting hers and sparkling as they took the quiet moment for themselves.

Shining with adoration and yearning, his eyes said way more than he let on, “I missed you, my love.”

—

Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true. Ya know I love a London boy, boy, I fancy you.

“What if they don’t like me? Don’t Europeans, like, hate Americans?” Y/n asked as she clutched onto Lando’s arm, sticking to his side as they grew closer to the restaurant.

He laughed from beside her, but quieted down when he saw the genuine concern on her face. Stopping and taking her face in his hands, he pecked her lips, “Baby, they will love you. Trust me. Just because you’re American doesn’t mean they’ll think you’re annoying before they even meet you.”

Sighing and shrugging off his hold in frustration, she began walking toward their destination, “Do you guys really think people from America are annoying?”

He jogged to catch up with her before taking her hand in his and kissing the knuckles of it, “A lot of them are not as pleasant as you.”

Stepping into the pub, Y/n inched closer to his side, suddenly being hit with double her original amount of nerves. Thankfully, Lando’s arm slid around her shoulders as he steered her toward the back of the establishment. A booth filled with whispering 20-something adults came into view before Lando was pulling her to stand in front of everyone, on full display, something he liked and she didn’t.

“Guys, this is Y/n, my girlfriend.” He smiled as his voice grabbed the attention of what Y/n could only determine were his best friends.

A chorus of “Nice to meet you!” and “We’ve heard so much about you” graced the couple’s ears. Lando ushered for her to scooch into the empty seats saved just for them.

Once settled, the questions began.

Max was the first to jump in, wanting to get to know the girl his best friend hadn’t shut up about for the past few months, “So, are you in uni?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion, “Uni?”

Lando chuckled from beside her and in his best American accent said, “College, baby.”

She laughed at her own stupidity, “Oh, yeah. I forgot you guys call it uni.”

Max shook his head with a smile, “No problem.”

“But, anyway, yes, I am in college.” She smiled and nodded as Lando’s friends hung onto her every word, something he was sure would happen.

“Oh, cool, what are you studying?” Ria entered the conversation, leaning over the table to greet the, now, only other girl in the group.

“Psychology. I want to become a therapist.” Y/n’s face lit up at the mention of her passion and Lando gazed upon her like she had just told him he would be World Champion next year.

The table’s eyes bulged, “Don’t you have to go through a lot of schooling for that?” Maz inquired.

“Yeah! But, it’s okay. I’ve always liked learning.” She smiled back.

Max’s jaw dropped as he laughed and let out a breath, “How are you putting up with his stupid ass then?”

The group, including Y/n and Lando, threw their heads back in laughter as Lando tried to act annoyed, “Mate, don’t scare her away just yet.”

She put her hand on his bicep and rubbed softly, “Lan, if I was scared, I would have been gone already.”

He kissed her cheek quickly with blushing cheeks as Ria, Aarav, and Niran observed a lovesick Lando. Leaning over Aarav spoke to both Ria and Niran, “Why does he look happy?”

Niran giggled as Ria rolled her eyes, “Because he’s in love, dumbass.”

From across the table, Y/n tried to partake in a conversation between Lando, Max, and Steve, but the moment Ria’s comment met Y/n’s ears, she was done for.

Looking at the man who was crowding her space to hear his friends better, she wondered if he did, in fact, love her the way she loved him.

—

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride, “Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time”. They say home is where the heart is, but God, I love the English.

Throwing themselves into the cab, Lando and Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. Glancing out the window and being met with the aggressive downpour that was overwhelming London, Y/n listened to her boyfriend rattle off his address to the driver.

Sitting back, he let his head fall on the seat behind him as it lulled to the side, capturing his girlfriend’s unexplainable beauty.

He smiled before tugging on her hand, making her turn her attention away from the water droplets and to the man who was as soaked, if not more, then she was, “How long do you think it will take us to get back?”

He glanced outside, “The traffic’s really bad…” He trailed off as he wondered, “Probably around 20 minutes?”

“Mmm,” She leaned into his side, not at all caring for the way his drenched clothes stuck to her own.

His head fell on top of hers as they breathed together for a moment. His mind wandered to that morning and how he had been woken up by Max calling him.

–

Lando had shut off the ringer the second it blared loudly and thankfully, he hadn’t disturbed your sleeping form as he got out of the warm, soft cocoon to answer.

“Hello? Why are you calling me so early?” His groggy voice greeted his best friend on the other end of the line as he shut the door to the bedroom and walked out to the kitchen.

Max laughed, “Mate! It’s literally 12 PM. What were you up to last night?” His suggestive tone had Lando’s mind flashing back to the rather intimate activities that had taken place hours before.

“None of your business,” He bit out, “What do you need?”

“No need to get so hostile on me.” Max said innocently, “Just wanted to ask you if you’ve told Y/n you love her yet?”

Lando choked out a breath before clearing his throat, “I’m sorry- what?”

“Have you guys said that yet?” Max repeated, not understanding why his friend sounded so confused.

While he wanted to deny his love for her, Lando knew he couldn’t, he never could, “No.”

“Well, you should tell her.” Max stated firmly.

Lando’s voice fell quiet, “But, what if she isn’t there yet?”

Max loudly laughed, “Oh, man! It’s crazy how you bagged someone intelligent.” Lando cringed as Max continued, “She clearly feels the same way.”

Lando’s heart soared, “You think?”

HIs best friend sighed, “Yes, I do. So does Ria, and Niran, and Steve, and Aarav. It’s really obvious, dude.”

Lando’s smile hurt, “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Max chuckled, “I know. That’s why I called you.”

—

His brain thought over the possibility of telling her about his growing feelings as he felt her weight against his side in the back of the dirty cab. It was almost as if she heard his thoughts as she moved her head off his shoulder to stare up at him, silently begging him to say it.

Whether it was in his head or not, he fulfilled the wish he was convinced she was pleading with him to make reality, “I love you.” He whispered.

Their faces inches apart, Lando watched as Y/n’s face gleamed and her smile grew, “I love you too.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief when she moved to kiss him. His hands in her hair and no regard for the driver in front of them, he kissed her like he was crazily, stupidly, and wholly in love with her.

Because he was.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you, wanna be with you. You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking’ SoHo, drinking in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you. Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true.

“Darling, are you ready?” Lando’s voice flooded through his apartment.

As he rounded the corner of the hallway, she was popping out of the bedroom clad in jeans and a sweater, prepared for the crisp and cold London air. Catching his gaze, she jokingly twirled around as she muttered, “This good to meet your family?”

Closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her forehead, “Perfect. You look perfect, baby.”

With crimson red cheeks, the two of them left his building and made their way to his parent’s house minutes away.

“For some reason, I’m not as nervous to meet them as I was to meet your friends.” Her eyebrows contorted as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Maybe that’s because I’m their son and you love me. Ya know, the whole ‘Apple doesn’t fall far from the tre-’” He was interrupted by two giggling girls stopping to stand directly in front of them.

One of them gently shoved her phone in between them, “Can we take a picture?”

Y/n watched as Lando’s eyes softened before he was grabbing her phone and lightly turning her way to ask her to take it. Shaking her head with a smile, she grabbed it and positioned them in the frame, “Okay, 1…2…3,” She mumbled before taking multiple and handing it back to the girls that couldn’t be over 16, “I took a couple.”

Nodding, the other one’s eyes drifted between Lando and Y/n before cocking her head to the side.

“Wait, were those dating rumors true? Is this your girlfriend?” Her eyes grew wide in realization as Lando blushed and pulled Y/n into him.

Glancing down at her y/e/c eyes, he nodded, “Yeah, this is her.”

Gasping, the fans excitedly told the two how pretty they thought Y/n was before thanking each of them and running off.

Resuming their steps, Y/n giggled, “They had a crush on you. It was so cute.”

He laughed from beside her before kissing her temple, “Maybe, but I have a crush on you.”

—

“Okay, I take it back. I’m going to throw up.” Y/n’s face paled as Lando’s fist rapped against the wooden door.

“You said the same thing with my friends, baby, and they loved you. I’m telling you it will be the same with my family.” He tried to calm and reassure.

Thankfully, there was no room for disagreeing because his mom was opening the door and smiling widely at her son and his infamous new girlfriend.

“Lando!” She exclaimed before throwing her arms around her child.

“Hi, mum,” He laughed as he squeezed her tightly. Moving away and turning her head, Cisca beamed.

“Oh, you are so gorgeous! Tell me my son is treating you right?” She laughed before sending Y/n the sweetest smile the girl had ever received.

“Oh, he is, Mrs. Norris. Don’t worry.” Y/n assured as the woman pulled her into a hug as well.

“It’s Cisca to you.” Y/n could hear the warming smile in her voice before she was being led inside.

Walking into the house, Y/n’s noticed the immediate warmth that surrounded every furniture piece and person. It was a bit of a shocker and adjustment when she found out just how close Lando was to his family. Growing up, she hadn’t had that with her family as her parents didn’t have a good relationship and were constantly fighting while her siblings tried to calm both adults. It was traumatic, to put it simply, and after Lando had picked up on her confusion when he said he was going to meet his mom for lunch earlier in their relationship, he made a mental note to ask her about it later. When he did, she had had no choice, but to tell him her childhood, or lack thereof. He was quite surprised when he found out his bubbly, sweet girlfriend had come from such a toxic, violent household, but he didn’t voice that as he comforted her and apologized for something that wasn’t even his fault. Long story short, even though she had come to understand his relationship with his family, it was still a bit weird to her how much love there was to go around.

Coming up beside her, Lando’s hand rested on the bottom of her back as he whispered in her ear, “How are you doing?”

He could only assume how saddening this could be for her after countless words spoken with her over how angry she had been as a teenager at her parents for not providing with some sort of normal home life.

However, she just smiled up at him, laying a kiss on his cheek before whispering back, “I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and before he could lean in to meet her lips with his, Flo was appearing before them.

She beamed at the couple, “Hi! You must be Y/n. I’m Flo, Lando’s sister. He talks about you all the time.”

Her comforting tone gave Y/n the confidence to respond with, “Oh? I hope all good things?”

Lando chuckled as his hand squeezed her hip as his sister exposed him completely, “Oh, very good things. I’m serious, he actually never shuts up about you. I would be annoyed with him if he wasn’t so clearly happy.”

Y/n sent a smile to Lando’s sister before turning her head to gaze up at her boyfriend, realizing how much of a home she had found within him.

Soon enough, the rest of Lando’s siblings joined their sister, conversing with his American girlfriend like they had known her their whole life.

“So, you’re studying psychology to become a therapist, I hear?” Oliver inquired as Lando began to nod his head, a proud boyfriend.

She nodded along with him, “Yes, I’m graduating college this year and then I’ll move onto grad school to get my masters.”

Flo’s eyes widened, “Wow, do you know where you’re going?”

Lando blurted it out before Y/n could, he just couldn’t help how much he wanted to brag about her intelligence, “She’s going to Yale!”

All three siblings’ jaws fell open as Y/n laughed at her boyfriend’s eagerness, “Yale. I’m going to Yale. Thanks, babe.”

He smiled sheepishly down at her as he muttered a sorry to which she shook her head, not mad at all.

The conversation took off from there, continuing on while all of them sat at the dinner table, only then did the parents join in. Everyone was enthralled by Y/n, captured by her charm and smile, falling victim to all the same things Lando had. He wanted to take a picture, at that moment, as he gazed upon the girl who was very quickly earning the title of “Love of my Life” and how she clicked perfectly with everyone else he loved immensely.

As the night went on, leading into the darkness of midnight, Lando found himself in his old backyard, alone, as he watched Y/n in a very committed conversation with his sisters about Taylor Swift.

He wasn’t aware how long Oliver had sat next to him, only being aware of his presence when his brother said, “I think she’s it.”

Shaking his head, he frowned at his brother, “What?”

Oliver smiled down at his younger brother, remembering his own lovestruck days, “I think she’s it. I think you’ve found the one, Lando.”

To say he was blushing would have been an understatement, Lando was blood red in the cheeks, the neck, the ears, everywhere. His smile spoke volumes to his brother as he took a moment before responding, “I think so too.”

“How’d you two meet again?” Oliver had heard the story once, on the day it happened, but never again after that.

Once again, Lando’s smile hurt, “We met on the paddock at Silverstone. She was with her friends and we were both distracted, so we ran into each other and I literally spilled my coffee down her entire front. Thankfully, she was really sweet about it which didn’t help the fact that I was already in love with her. But, anyways, I remember I got to look at her first. She was looking down at her clothes while I was just staring at her. I seriously think I have never been that gobsmacked by someone’s beauty before. I almost couldn’t speak when she actually made eye contact with me. I offered to pay for her clothes, but then I realized that that would mean I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to her again, so I told her Lily would have something extra. I actually had no clue if Lily had extra clothes, I really didn’t expect her to because who the hell brings extra clothes to an event? But, I knew it would give me at least 20 more minutes with her, so I ran with it. Fortunately, Lily did have extra clothes, something I was incredibly confused by, and when Y/n was finished changing, she walked out without my number. I had been so nervous to ask her, but Lily yelled at me the second the door closed to get off my ass and go get a date with her, so I did. Thank God, I did, man.”

Oliver hung on to his brother’s every word, observing the twinkle in Lando’s eyes when the three girls across the yard would laugh at something Y/n had said. Even if he had never met Y/n, Oliver was sure he would’ve gotten the memo on how in love Lando was with her just by how highly, how affectionately he talked about her. I mean, it was actually partially true. Going into the dinner, everyone in the family was aware of how love drunk Lando was with this girl he had been dating. From the moment he had called them, detailing how he had just met this girl who had absolutely stolen his attention, the family had made bets on the fact this relationship would last a lifetime.

Even now, as he watched Lando wander over to his girlfriend like a lost puppy, Oliver was sure it would.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you. I fancy you, fancy you, oh.

“Baby! Guess what 5 years ago today was!” Lando’s voice yelled throughout their flat in Monaco as he wandered aimlessly, trying to find his fiancé.

He found Y/n in the kitchen, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows as her hip rested against the countertop, “What?”

Pulling her into his arms and showing her his phone, he smiled, “You met my parents, love. 5 years ago today.”

She laughed as she looked at the screen, only to find a picture of her, asleep in Lando’s car at time with the caption, ‘slumped after meeting the fam’

“God, that’s a really horrendous picture of me.” She replied as Lando immediately tugged on the hem of her shirt with a scowl, “What? No, it’s not! You always look so cute when you’re asleep.”

She over exaggerated a nod before he pinched her side, her yelping in response.

“Isn’t it good I think you’re cute when you’re asleep?” He smiled cheekily, “I mean, we are getting married,” His fingers toyed with the ring on her finger, “so, I’ll be waking up to you like that every day for the rest of our lives.”

She smiled as he kissed her, breathing her in, “When you put it that way, it’s not too bad.”

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris #lando norris edit #mclaren #Spotify

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fantasyescapes17 · 1 year ago

Text

Manners (Part 1)

Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?

Genre: Joshua Hong x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are a sibling to all the Lees (Woozi, DK, Dino) so your last name is Lee but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 3.2k+

Part 2

Series Masterlist [I would highly recommend reading the earlier stories in this series, Patience, and Candle, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

It was a warm evening in June when your life suddenly changed.

You had, at that point, been out in London society for almost two years without having received a single marriage proposal. Being the third child and eldest daughter of the Lee family, your responsibilities were far greater than your charms.

Most young ladies your age possessed a bountiful dowry and carefully developed talents to attract a husband. Instead, you possessed the responsibility of managing five siblings, an absentee father, and a mediocre dowry. Only three of the siblings were younger than you (but really, from the way he sometimes behaved, Seokmin might as well have been younger than you).

Mr. Lee (your father) was often away and busy managing affairs of the estate. He had ceased to care for society or matrimony since the death of your beloved mother. The responsibility of ensuring your siblings were raised well had naturally fallen on you, the eldest daughter. You did not entirely resent the circumstances. You loved all your siblings equally- even sullen Jihoon and cheeky little Chan- but your future was quite clear.

You would probably end up an old maid.

Or you would have, if not for that fateful June evening when Viscount Joshua Hong appeared unannounced on the doorstep of your London home.

—----------------------------------------------------------

The kitchens were in an uproar.

“These noblemen are quite careless!” the cook cried out as she struggled angrily to light the large coal fire. “To come around unannounced for dinner-the Viscount, you say- oh, what am I supposed to serve him? I was going to prepare a simple soup and fish for the family supper but that will certainly not suffice for a Viscount!”

You tried in vain to calm the cook.

“Really, Dotty, it is all right- I am sure the Viscount will not demand anything more than what we usually eat,” you told her gently.

“Of course he will not demand it- I am quite aware that the Viscount Joshua Hong has the most excellent manners. He should likely eat stale bread without complaint if we served it to him. But how would I ever be able to live with myself if I did that? Oh- how unfortunate that the Viscount should come for supper on the one night when there is no venison to be had…”

There was no calming the cook down. You sighed.

“Dotty, I must go upstairs to dress for dinner. Please do not worry and serve whatever you are able. The Viscount is a good friend of Jihoon and he will not mind a simple supper after having arrived unannounced.”

Dotty gave you a miserable look. “I should very much have liked to serve the Viscount my venison pie…”

You laughed. “I shall ask Jihoon to invite him to dinner again soon; and you shall be told well in advance so that you can serve your venison pie. But soup and fish will do for tonight.”

“Yes, miss…”

You left the kitchens through the back entrance and hurried up to the bedchambers through a side corridor; carefully avoiding the drawing room where Viscount Hong sat in conversation with your father and older brothers.

It was perfectly understandable that Dotty had panicked when the Viscount suddenly appeared at the doorstep of your London home to call on your brothers.

Viscount Joshua Hong was not only one of the richest noblemen in London, he was also the most handsome eligible bachelor. He was the epitome of impeccable manners and fine breeding. The entire ton had been waiting with bated breath ever since it had become public knowledge that he was in search of a wife.

You could not deny that you were equally curious. Any young lady that could catch the eye of Viscount Hong would surely be perfection incarnate. You could not think of a single woman that could compare. Perhaps the Duchess of Graham? Even she did not possess Viscount Hong's excellent manners.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you discovered that the entrance to your bedroom was barred by two of your younger siblings. Chan looked upset and angry, while little Nessie looked delighted.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the onslaught.

“Why am I not allowed to sit with the gentleman downstairs?” demanded Chan, at the same time that Nessie cried, “Is it true Viscount Hong is here? Does he really have a golden carriage?"

You ushered them into your room before their loud voices could carry downstairs to the drawing room.

"You are not yet old enough to sit with the gentlemen," you told Chan firmly, before turning to Nessie. "Yes, Viscount Hong is here and you will be allowed to see him at supper. No, his carriage is not made of real gold."

"I'm sixteen-" Chan protested.

"Sixteen is not old enough."

"It's too old to be sitting upstairs with the girls," Chan insisted with a pout.

You sighed. "Stay upstairs for now. After supper, if Father permits, you may sit with the gentlemen," you told him. "Now go dress for supper quickly. Both of you."

You called for your maid to help you dress and then wrestled little Nessie and Lily into appropriate gowns. Fortunately, Chan managed to make himself look presentable on his own and you were able to get them all downstairs in time for supper.

The gentlemen were already seated for dinner; your father at the head of the table and Viscount Hong to his right along with your brothers- Mr. Lee Jihoon and Mr. Lee Seokmin.

"Remember to curtsey," you reminded your little sisters quietly.

They both curtsied prettily for the benefit of Viscount Hong, who greeted you and your younger siblings warmly with a handsome smile and bright eyes. He was characteristically patient when little Lily suddenly threw a tantrum and insisted on being allowed to sit beside him.

"I will sit beside the Viscount, you never allow me to sit beside the Viscount!" Lily cried, stomping your feet. You laughed nervously, taking your six-year old sister gently by the arm.

"Come now, Lily, I've told you before that you must behave when we have company-" you scolded lightly.

"I should very much like to sit beside Lily," Viscount Hong said with a kind smile, before turning to your father quickly. "Unless, sir, you should have any objection."

Your father waved a hand dismissively. "Let the child sit where she likes, we must get on with dinner."

Jihoon surrendered his seat to little Lily and moved around the table to sit beside you instead. You lowered your voice and mumbled in a low voice to your elder brother.

"Of course we are delighted to have the Viscount here for dinner, it's not that anyone dislikes his company," you mumbled. "But perhaps you could ask him to give us notice next time? Dotty was quite a mess about what to serve for dinner."

Jihoon coughed into his napkin.

"I don't know why he is even here," your brother whispered. "It's quite unlike Joshua. He is usually incredibly well-mannered but really, neither Seokmin nor I invited him here tonight and he simply won't leave."

You looked at your brother in surprise- you had thought that the Viscount was surely here to discuss urgent business with your brothers or father.

"Oh…"

The servants entered with dinner, so your conversation with Jihoon was cut short. You were forced to turn your attention to the Viscount, who sat opposite you and was listening patiently to a fairy tale that Lily was reciting.

"Lily, stop boring the Viscount," Chan scolded her lightly. He turned to the older gentleman with bright eyes. "Viscount Hong, is it true that you have five thoroughbred horses and three pure white Arabian horses in your stables? And that the Arabians were brought from overseas?"

Joshua smiled. "Yes, that is correct. Are you interested in horses, Chan?"

Chan flushed. "I've studied them a little."

"He's studied them far more than he's studied mathematics," you said lightly. Chan frowned but Viscount Hong's dark eyes flickered towards you in amusement. He gave you a small smile.

"I see your sister doesn't like your interest in horses," Joshua remarked.

"My sister doesn't like anything interesting," Chan complained and you nearly choked on your soup in embarrassment before giving your younger brother a stern look.

"Chan! "

But Joshua only turned to look at you with his usual kind smile. "If you can vouch for Chan having completed his mathematics, Miss Lee, then I should be glad to invite him to visit our stables next week to see the horses."

Chan's eyes widened in delight and he jumped out of his seat.

"Viscount Hong, would you really-"

"I believe the Viscount said the invitation was dependent upon you completing your mathematics," you reminded your brother calmly. "So sit down and finish your dinner. And thank you, Viscount Hong, I would not want us to intrude upon your hospitality."

Viscount Hong smiled. "I do not consider it an intrusion. It is the least I can do."

"We are grateful, all the same."

Your father cleared his throat as he finished his soup. The senior Mr. Lee was not generally a social man, but even he could not ignore the need to engage in polite conversation when there was a man of such noble standing as the Viscount at his table.

"Were you in attendance at the Hastings' ball yesterday, Viscount Hong?" your father asked. "My children tell me it was quite a wonderful event. And since you are looking for a wife, I suppose attending these events is of more importance than ever."

Joshua nodded respectfully at your father.

"Indeed, sir, I was in attendance. In fact- I was fortunate enough to have danced once with your daughter," Joshua replied with a small smile.

You nodded. Viscount Hong was very much an in-demand dance partner, but you were grateful that he had still asked you to dance with him a number of times over the course of the season. You knew better than to read too much into a mere dance, however. Joshua also regularly danced with plenty of women far more eligible than you- Miss Jeon, the Duchess of Graham, Miss Williams, Miss Yoon…

It was a long list that you did not care to repeat.

Mr. Lee nodded. "Yes- I am sure my daughter is quite grateful for your company."

You flushed in embarrassment at the implication that the Viscount had danced with you out of pity, but the topic of conversation was quickly rerouted by Chan- who had been unable to take his mind off the horses.

"Viscount Hong, when you said that I might visit your stables next week," Chan pressed eagerly. "Which day of the week were you suggesting, as I have my lessons on Thursdays…"

You frowned. "Chan!"

Viscount Hong laughed. "It is quite all right, Miss Lee. Shall we say Wednesday, Chan?"

"Wednesday sounds excellent…"

The supper passed in a pleasant manner. Joshua's unannounced arrival was certainly not convenient but you had to admire how smoothly the gentleman blended himself into your family supper. He was polite, but without showing any of the airs and superiority that someone of his station could have displayed around your family.

He showed enthusiasm for Lily's stories, patiently answered Chan's questions about horses and even joked around with Jihoon and Seokmin, whom he had known for many years. You knew that Viscount Joshua Hong was as far, far, far out of your reach as a man could possibly be but…

Well, there was no harm in silently admiring such a wonderful specimen of the opposite gender, was there?

You ushered your sisters upstairs to bed after dinner. Chan, stubborn as ever, insisted on being allowed to stay in the drawing room while the gentlemen smoked a pipe. You left him be: disciplining Chan was quite out of your hands and you had decided that you would begin to leave it to Jihoon.

You had just put the girls to bed and were about to undress for bed yourself when there was a frantic knocking at your door.

You opened the door, startled.

"Chan?"

Your brother was pink in the face and his eyes wide as he squeezed inside your room and closed the door behind him.

"Shhh! You will not believe what is happening downstairs!" Chan hissed.

You raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"We were all in the drawing room- and suddenly Viscount Hong and Father went into Father's study alone. Even Jihoon and Seokmin agreed that it was extremely strange for them to go off alone so I snuck into the study to listen in on their conversation and-"

"Chan!" you scolded him. "You cannot be eavesdropping on Father's-"

"You may scold me later! Only listen for now- Viscount Hong has asked father for permission to offer for your hand!" Chan whisper-yelled.

You froze.

"Sorry, my what?" you asked.

"Your hand," Chan repeated. "In marriage?" he added unhelpfully.

Your face felt hot. "Don't be foolish. You must have misunderstood their conversation. Viscount Hong would certainly marry a woman more suited to his station. To even suggest otherwise is nonsense-"

Chan looked angry. "I know what I heard, sister! He clearly said 'I seek your blessing to offer for your daughter's hand'- and surely, he is not intending to marry Lily!"

"He is not intending to marry me either-"

There was another sharp knock on your door and both you and Chan jumped, startled. You opened it to find a maid standing outside and she greeted you with a bow.

"Miss Lee- your father has requested you to come downstairs to his study."

—-----------------------------------------------

You went downstairs in a mixture of disbelief and anxiety. It was impossible that Viscount Joshua Hong had made an offer for your hand- Chan meant well but he was hardly the most brilliant young boy of his age. He had clearly misunderstood something.

You entered your father's study anxiously.

"Father?"

Mr. Lee stood from his desk. Joshua was seated quietly on a chair across from it- his expression was unreadable.

"Ah-daughter. Here you are. I believe the Viscount has something to say to you. I am afraid I left my pipe in the drawing room so I shall return to it. You may both converse here in my study."

And your father briskly left the room, closing the study door behind him and leaving you entirely alone with Viscount Hong.

Oh no.

"Miss Lee?" Viscount Hong asked you gently as you stared frozen at the now closed study door. He stood and stepped closer to you. "Would you like to take a seat?"

You turned to face him sharply.

"What is the meaning of this?" you demanded.

Viscount Hong gave you a small smile. He seemed a little surprised by your sharp reaction but reached for your bare hand- you were not wearing gloves so his soft fingers glided over your knuckles- and gently drew you closer to himself.

"Miss Lee. I suppose the present circumstances make my object in speaking to you here quite evident, but I will still pose the question to you," Joshua said slowly. His hand pressed yours. "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

You felt faint. You could not make sense of what was happening.

"But-but…" you stuttered awkwardly. "But why?"

Joshua looked taken aback.

"Why?" he repeated.

"Why would you want to marry me?" you cried.

Joshua let out a small, bewildered laugh. Your question seemed to amuse him. "Well- for the very reasons that any man would want to marry a woman, I suppose. For love! Should I perhaps have started with that instead of directly jumping to marriage?"

"Yes-I mean no-, I mean…" you trailed off and pulled your hand out of his grasp before moving to learn against the study table. "Oh my god, I feel rather faint."

Joshua followed you, concerned.

"Do you need help-"

"I am fine," you brushed him off. Your heart was beating at an unnaturally fast rate and you worried that it might suddenly explode in your chest. "I just… I don't really know what to say…"

Joshua took a step back from you warily.

"Am I to understand from your reaction," he began slowly and carefully, "that my affections are unwelcome?"

"No, not… not unwelcome, exactly, more shocking," you replied hastily. You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down and digest this strange situation that you had suddenly been thrust into. "Viscount Hong, do you expect me to believe that out of all the beautiful, talented and rich young ladies of the ton, you are in love with me?"

The Viscount slowly kneeled in front of you and took your hand into his once more, with a soft smile.

"I thought you would have noticed my affections. Perhaps I concealed them better than I imagined. I believed that my admiration for you was quite evident," Joshua said quietly.

"Clearly it was not," you told him firmly. "I have it on quite good authority that there is a running bet in the assembly rooms regarding which young lady the eligible Viscount Hong will propose to by the end of the season, and I can tell you with absolute confidence that not a single person has put their money on me! Even Seokmin has placed his bet on the Duchess of Graham!"

Joshua took a deep breath and nodded.

"I see my mistake."

"Do you?" you asked weakly.

"Yes," Joshua replied simply. He stood up and stepped back from you. "I thought it was prudent to be a little more… guarded about displaying my affections for you in public but I see now that I should not have held back so much. You did not even realise you were being courted."

You stared at him. "I… I do not think anyone realised, Viscount Hong."

Joshua's cheeks flushed pink. "Yes- well. Allow me to remedy my mistake. I will retract my offer for your hand for the moment, Miss Lee, as I see now that I have been hasty. And instead, I seek permission to enter into a formal courtship with you."

"Ah…"

"I will court you for one month before I will ask you once again to marry me," Joshua continued. "And if by then you still do not believe my affections for you are true, I will accept your rejection as gracefully as I can."

You still could not believe it. The image- the thought of yourself marrying Viscount Joshua Hong simply would not manifest completely in your mind. Even when you closed your eyes for a brief moment and tried to picture Viscount Hong at the altar, you still saw him with women more suited to his station- the Duchess of Graham, Miss Jeon, Miss Williams…

"Do you really love me?" you asked him weakly. You hated how exposed and vulnerable you felt in this moment, looking up at this man that was better than you in every conceivable way. "Me? Out of all the more eligible young ladies in the ton… you are quite sure you wish to marry me?"

Joshua stepped forward and seized your hand before bringing it up to his lips. His fingers pressed softly but firmly against your knuckles.

"I am sorry," he told you kindly, his dark eyes shining in the dimly lit study. "If I have made you feel unworthy."

You swallowed. "It is not… it is not that you have made me feel unworthy, only-"

"Yes. I wish to marry you, and only you, Miss Lee. By the end of this month, I shall ensure that you will never again question my love or commitment towards you."

He turned and left your study.

And so began, on a warm June night, your courtship with Viscount Joshua Hong- the most elite and sought-after bachelor in London.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: As always, thanks for reading and feel free to share your thoughts or inputs!

Since Wonwoo and Joshua were neck-and-neck on the poll as of the time of me posting this, I've decided to go ahead with Joshua since his is shorter/simpler and we'll be doing Wonwoo next.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #joshua hong #seventeen fluff #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong scenarios #hong jisoo #joshua fluff #joshua angst #regency!au #seventeen angst

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copperbadge · 6 months ago

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I went to the library this afternoon, intending to get a study room and do some work on the novel, but I got distracted and ended up spending the two hours working on a short story instead.

Georgie has said that Michaelis hired her after she rescued his friend's child from a kidnapping, and it was suggested to me recently that the friend could be Oliver McAllister, Michaelis's old school mate from Pirates of the Riviera. I was skeptical because the timing didn't quite work out, but I couldn't stop thinking about the idea, so I decided to try making it work.

And let me tell you, these messy bitches.

In 2015, Michaelis is deep in his Kingbot 3000 phase so he doesn't have to Have Feelings, and Gregory has coerced him into taking a vacation by threatening a coup. Meanwhile, Olly is fresh from his second divorce, from a woman who just tried to kidnap their child. Georgie is the most together person in the room and she's an unemployed twentysomething who just beat three men unconscious to prevent said kidnapping.

And the most amusing part to me is that because of how I set it up, Michaelis is just trying to be friendly but inadvertently keeps coming across like he's trying to seduce Georgie. Which also makes Georgie joking about trying to marry him for his money in Royals/Ramblers even funnier.

"Ma'am, the police would like to take a statement," Lael said to Georgie.

"I can have Lael find you a lawyer if you want," Michaelis added. She gave him a sardonic look.

"All right, let's get it over with," she sighed. "There goes my visit to the Musee D'Orsay."

"We'll give you the room. Olly, why don't you go in with your boy, so the police can speak with you if needed. Lael and I will be at the cafe next door when you've finished."

Georgie nodded, but he stopped as he passed her and put a hand on her arm.

"Come see us when you're done," he said quietly, ducking his head so the police at the doorway couldn't see their faces. "And cancel your job interview in London."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Stay in Paris. You can see the museum this weekend. The palace will cover your lodging and food."

"I...don't want to offend," she said slowly, "but I'm not -- "

"I'm not flirting with you," he said, realizing belatedly how it might seem to her, and taking his hand from her arm. She looked faintly relieved. "I'm going to spend the time you're giving a statement assembling a job offer for you with my security office. Any young woman who can spot a kidnapping before it happens and soundly beat three grown men should not be leaving Askazer-Shivadlakia to do a job she hates in London. Now, regardless of that, and I say this as a concerned friend, not as king or employer: be honest and helpful with the police, but...economical."

"Just the facts?" she asked.

"Exactly." He gave her an approving nod and followed Lael out. They were silent in the hallway and lobby, until they stepped out into the street and Lael exhaled.

"That was impressive," he said. "Young lady has a great right hook."

"She's certainly very alert," Michaelis agreed.

"It's been a long time since I've seen someone throw a punch like that."

"Say it and you're fired," Michaelis said good-naturedly. He'd known Lael since the head of security had been a young palace aide during Michaelis's first days as king -- if still years older than the king himself -- and he knew what was coming.

"Not since our last trip to Galia," Lael said, voice full of relish. "That time a young hothead punched Duke Tomas in the face."

"Utterly fired. I've found your replacement. I'm putting you out to pasture with no pension."

"You think she'd make a good successor to me?" Lael asked. He was joking but, simultaneously, he was not -- they were both getting older, and Lael was as aware as Michaelis that when a new king was elected in a few years, whoever it was, they would need someone younger, someone who could more easily keep up with them.

"You tell me," Michaelis said. "You're the expert."

"Oh, I've been fired, clearly my opinion isn't wanted," Lael said, as they settled into a table at the cafe, Lael with his back to the wall, eyes always scanning behind Michaelis. There had never, at least as far as Michaelis knew, been an attempt on his life, but he'd become used to never getting direct eye contact in public from the man whose job it was, after all, to watch his back.

"Fine, I withdraw your firing. I suspect purely on her ability to sass me, she is your equal if not your better," he added, as the waitress approached. He ordered coffee and pastries briskly, then turned back to Lael.

"Well, it's difficult to tell on two minutes' acquaintance," Lael replied, "but actions do speak louder than words."

"Agreed. Perhaps a contingent offer? She has a law degree; she could likely earn more than we could offer her for a job like yours, but I think she's looking for the right job, not the right pay. Say three months of probation with guaranteed six months of pay to ensure she takes it, and a firm permanent offer at the end if you approve? Conditions non-negotiable but a bit of wiggle room in the salary, I think."

Lael considered it, then nodded. "I suppose it's paranoia to imagine she might have arranged all this to get into the Palace employ."

"As what, a spy? I love a thriller novel, Lael, but they are fiction," Michaelis replied, amused.

#shivadhverse

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galaxiasgreen · 5 months ago

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🐣🌱Stuck

Uncle!Ominis shenanigans with minor Ominis/Reader [T-Rated, 1.9k words]

“You owe me for this.” He spits onto the grass. “Next time we play poker, I promise to let you win.” “Oh please. Your poker face is so appalling even I can see when you’re lying."

In the middle of the night, Ominis wakes to his panicked Muggle brother-in-law Connor, whose son James is mysteriously stuck to the ceiling…

Or, Uncle!Ominis attempts to help his Muggle-born nephew.

[read on AO3]

A/N: This is just a silly drabble idea I had. Set in the same universe as ACVAS with Reader implied as Gibby, but can be read standalone. Enjoy. <3

The rock at the window wakes Ominis with a start.

It can’t be later than three o’clock in the morning, and he feels the darkness surround him – you, snoring softly to his left, the utter silence of the world outside, the chill of nightfall along his skin. He rolls over to face you and buries his nose into your hair, thinking he must’ve imagined the noise.

Clack. His eyes wrench open again. There is definitely something wrong.

Cursing softly, he slips out of bed and retrieves his wand. With a quick Revealing charm, he senses the body on the street outside, their hand wound back to toss another rock. It hits the window again before clattering into the gutter. A foolish child, maybe? Only they would think it wise to disturb his sleep.

He throws on a dressing gown and slippers and tiptoes downstairs. Hopefully his own children don’t rouse with the noise; it takes you several hours to get them to calm down and sleep. Another pebble hits the house’s wall just as Ominis clenches his wand and opens the side door.

“Ominis! Thank the Lord. Thought I’d have to break into the house.”

Confusion colours his annoyance. That’s not some kid – it’s his Muggle brother-in-law, Connor.

“Are you aware it’s the middle of the bloody night?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Connor sounds… panicked? “Is my sister—?”

“Fast asleep. Something I would also like to be.”

He swears softly. “All right, you’ll have to do.” He claps his hand. “I need your help.”

“I gathered.”

“It’s my son, James, he…” He swallows. “He’s stuck to the ceiling.”

“So? Get him down.”

“No, Om, he… he’s stuck. As in, I try to pull him down and he just... floats back up…”

Oh.

Ah.

Connor audibly winces. “I’m trying not to panic, but since you and my sister are the resident, erm, supernatural experts I figured I should come to you before calling the fire brigade.”

Ominis massages his head. “How did you even discover this?”

“He knocked on my wall. I thought it was something clattering through the pipes – went to investigate, there he was, suspended mid-air.” He bounces between his heels. “So can you do your vanishing thingamabob and take us there? Please. He’s utterly terrified right now, and I had to leave him alone to come here.”

What are the chances that Connor’s son, Ominis’ nephew-in-law, has developed magic? It does run in your family – you’re a witch, after all – but for the gene to reappear in the next generation on your brother’s side? The likelihood is incredibly low. His own children have been raised in a magical household, but he has no experience with Muggle children developing magic. Certainly you would be the wiser choice to navigate this situation delicately, but he doesn’t want to disturb you, not when you get so little sleep anyway.

Resigning to losing the night, Ominis sighs. “Fine.”

He decides it best not to give Connor any Apparition warning – he’s probably in too much of a state to take anything in – so he snatches his arms and Apparates them to the back garden of Connor’s house. Connor stumbles out of his grip and nearly wretches.

“Good God, some warning, man…”

“You owe me for this.”

He spits onto the grass. “Next time we play poker, I promise to let you win.”

“Oh please. Your poker face is so appalling even I can see when you’re lying.”

“… Touché.”

Ominis gestures for him to lead the way, and Connor pads up to the terrace house. In this area of London the air is muskier, sweetened by the industrial fumes of nearby factories, and Ominis hopes none of his neighbours happened to be peeking outside their windows when they both magically appeared in the garden.

“Keep quiet,” Connor warns as he unlocks the back door. “Matilda doesn’t know.”

Ominis baulks. “You haven’t told your wife?”

“Of course not, she doesn’t know diddly-squat about magic! Would lose her marbles if she caught James on the ceiling.” He swallows. “I hope she’s still asleep. Maybe James has woken her with all his wailing.”

They creep through the house to the highest floor, and when Connor softly announces that he’s coming in, Ominis braces himself for screaming and crying.

“Hi, Uncle Om!” chirrups nine-year-old James. “What’re you doing here?”

The room is small, befitting the eaves of the house. James has somehow managed to nestle himself where the two slants meet above. The skylight is ajar, letting in a gush of a night breeze.

Connor shuts the door behind. “How are you feeling, James? I know, I know, you’re absolutely terrified—”

“I’m fine.”

“— but I’ve brought your uncle to help get you down.”

James makes a confused noise. “How’re you gonna’ help, Uncle Om?”

Ominis purses his lips. He’s not actually sure yet. “How long have you been floating?”

“About an hour now.”

“Are you upside-down?”

“Nope, horizontal.”

That’s good. At least there won’t be poor blood flow. “What were you doing when you realised you were floating?”

“Erm, asleep?”

“Did you dream?”

“I dreamt about flying.”

Ah, that explains it.

“So?” says Connor desperately. “How bad is it?”

“Not bad,” says Ominis. “Just last week, my daughter set her bed on fire, and she’s only two. It’s rather common for… children like us, to develop it this way.”

“Flossie did what?” asks James.

“I suppose I should feel grateful that this is considered normal,” says Connor with a moan. “Please get him down. Quietly.”

“A simple spell should fix this.” Ominis finally reveals his wand from his pocket – it’s a strange sensation when he’s been vigilant about hiding it for so long. “Now, don’t panic, James—”

“Not panicking.”

“— but I’m going to do something that will help get you down. Brace yourself to land.” He nocks his wand. “Finite Incantatum.”

Silence.

“… Was that supposed to do something?” asks James, still floating.

“Hmm,” says Ominis, “that usually works.”

“Well, it didn’t,” hisses Connor. “Come on. You’re a wizard, Ominis—”

“Wicked,” says James.

“— so you’re supposed to be able to fix these things instantly!”

Ominis scowls. “Possessing magic is not the be all end all to every problem.” He flicks his wand down. “Descendo.”

Silence.

“Magic is real?” asks James, awed.

“Just brilliant,” Connor mutters. “I got the only wizard who can’t do this one simple task.”

“If you’d like to try,” Ominis remarks, “please, be my guest.”

“No, no,” Connor whimpers, “keep trying.”

So Ominis does. “Reverte.”

Nothing.

“Finite. Surgito. Offero.”

None of them work.

“This is it.” Connor slumps to the ground, clutching his head. “He’s stuck there forever and Matilda will skin me alive—”

“Brilliant,” says James.

“— and we’ll have to move to the country to hide, only we can’t because my son is stuck to the bloody ceiling!”

“Pull yourself together,” Ominis snaps. “Your panicking is not helping matters!”

“Yeah, Papa!”

“James needs you to stay calm.”

“Damn right, Papa!”

“Mind your language, son.” Connor gets up. “Fine, fine, I will resist the urge to panic. But if none of your magic spells work, what do we do?”

“I suspect I know the issue.” Ominis faces James. “None of my spells are working because you’re keeping yourself afloat.”

James sounds confused. “How?”

“Well, you enjoy being up there, don’t you?”

“Yeah, the view is great! Papa, you have a bald spot on the top of your head.”

“I have a what?”

Ominis sighs. “It’s up to you, then. Close your eyes. Imagine you are floating back down. Imagine your feet on the ground.”

For the first time all night James sounds unsure. “Okay…” Ominis senses him clenching his fists, deep in thought. “Float back down… float back down…”

The air shifts; his body begins to slowly descend.

“It— it’s working!”

“Good. Keep doing it.”

James lets out a soft grunt, trying to reach down as he goes.

“Yes, that’s it, son,” says Connor. “Keep it up—”

But then James hesitates, two feet from the floor. “Aw… but I liked flying.”

“No!” Connor bellows. “No, please, don’t go back up!”

“Focus,” Ominis commands. “Feet on the ground!”

“But what if I don’t ever fly again?”

“You will. On a broom, where it’s safe.”

“On a broom? But I can fly without one!”

He starts going higher and higher, and Connor’s panic hits peak.

“No, no—! Son, please.”

“I’m all right, Papa!” he says cheerfully, back up on the ceiling again. “I’m like a bird! Wheeeee!”

Connor suddenly grabs Ominis’ shoulders. “It’s no use. He’s too excited!”

Ominis winces. “Then I’m afraid we’re going to have to employ my last resort.”

“And that is?”

“Grab a leg each and yank him down.”

“God Almighty,” Connor curses. “Fine. I’ll take the left, you take the right.”

They grab a leg each, and though James initially jerks, his body simply floats back up, this time trying to take them with him. Ominis jabs his heel into the foot of the bed, but he might as well be trying to move Buckingham Palace.

“James,” Connor begs, clearly having the same problem. “For the love of God, please come down!”

“Look, Papa!” James cries. “I can take you with me!”

Ominis’ feet leave the floor, and he can’t help the embarrassed yelp that leaves his mouth.

“James!” Connor shrieks. “P-Put us down!”

“Now you’re both flying! Hurrah! Isn’t this fun?”

“No!” shrills Ominis. “For Merlin’s sake, James—”

The door suddenly opens. Matilda lets out a quiet yawn.

“What’s going on in—?”

She stops. Notices James stuck to the ceiling, with Ominis and Connor holding one leg each.

“Oh, Mama!” says James. “Want to see what else I can do?”

The bed promptly sets on fire.

Matilda screams.

“So James has magic now?”

That next morning, Ominis woke feeling like he was run over by the Hogwarts Express, owing to the menial two hours sleep he managed to snatch after returning back home during sunrise. Bracing his head over the steam of his teacup, he flicks idly at his buttered toast, desperate to keep his eyes peeled open.

“Yes, James has magic,” he responds, monotonous.

“A Muggle-born like me! That’s so wonderful,” you say, and you place the bowl in front of Flossie. She gurgles, spooning herself the food but letting half of it drip down her chin. “How did Matilda take it?”

“After I doused half of James’ room, she threatened to call the police and tried to exorcise us with holy water? Rather well, considering.”

“Well, it’s nice that everyone in the family knows now. No more secrets! Oh, that means he’s going to get his Hogwarts letter soon! How amazing! We’ll have to groom him for Hufflepuff. I don’t think he has the temperament for Slytherin.”

After last night, Ominis isn’t so sure. Massaging his forehead, he sips his tea, begging his brain to unfog.

The doorbell rings.

“No, darling, food goes in your mouth—” But his daughter giggles again, and you mumble, “Sorry, Ominis, Flossie’s being funny, can you get it?”

He gets to his feet, even though he feels like collapsing, and heads downstairs, irritated that the postman has the audacity to visit so early. When he opens the door, however, he’s surprised to come face-to-face with his Muggle brother-in-law… and his not-so-Muggle nephew.

Connor sounds ragged. “‘Mornin’, Ominis.”

“Hi, Uncle Om!” James grabs Ominis’ sleeve and bounces on his feet. “I got a letter this morning to go to magic school! Papa says you and Auntie went there, so can you teach me more magic? Please? Pretty please?”

Ominis groans.

Fin.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed <3

[read on AO3] [Divider credit]

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #uncle ominis gaunt #acvasverse #acvas #gibby #my writing #my stuff #my oneshots

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sitepathos · 2 months ago

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141 w/ Armored Titan Male Reader

A/N: ok, I know I said I was working on a CoD/Star Wars series, but I kinda forgot about the draft I barely worked on after a while and now I’ve been on a AoT kick lately, so hope this is an acceptable substitute. For a little world building, you were created in a lab with Titan abilities and the lab was raided, Laswell learned about you and had you spirited away to the 141. Both to help them on their missions and to ensure you don’t end up being used as a weapon by certain generals in the States.

Price

When Laswell told him she was sending him a young man with the ability to turn into a giant, he was worried that she’d finally gone off the deep end and was actually planing on staging a kidnapping so she’d take some time off.

Then when he finally met you and saw you turn into the Armored Titan, he was blown away by the sight of 15m giant with more armor than a tank appearing out of thin air.

He didn’t know what to make of you, a young man barely old enough to serve in the military that’d spent his entire life cooped up in a lab and being prepared as a weapon of war, but Laswell said she’d owe him big time for this and she always makes good on her promises.

Plus, when he saw your record, he couldn’t help but take you in. He has a thing for strays and is bad for collecting them for his prized task force.

When you completed your first mission, he knew you were staying with 141 and he’s fight tooth and nail to keep you. Seeing you smash through enemy defenses like they were nothing and crushing enemy troops like they’re bugs is a sight he’d never forget.

Gaz

When Price told them they would have a giant on their team, he thought his captain meant König would be a permanent member on 141. Then you were shown to them, easily the shortest person in the room.

When you demonstrated your ability on the training grounds by turning into the Armored Titan before all of them, he was speechless. One moment, you’re some scrawny looking kid and the next, you’re a bulky beast that towers over them.

He was interested in knowing how you came to be and asked Price, who handle his your file. When he learned that you were nothing but a lab rat for all of your life and now had nowhere to go, he reached out, offering you someone to talk to and showing you how to live outside of a cold, dark lab.

Obviously you were confined to the base at night for safety reasons, but as long as you had an escort, you were allowed to leave during the day. During that time, he would show you around London, pointing out important landmarks and tourist attractions.

He’ll always treasure the first mission you went on with them, charging through the enemy base and shrugging off small arms and explosives like they were mosquito bites. That was probably the first mission where all the enemies were killed and no one on 141 fired a shot.

Ghost

Oh boy, when you first met him, he scared you more than the scientists and their endless poking and prodding.

And this man already has MAJOR trust problems. The moment he realized that you could turn into the Big Unfriendly Giant due to a paper cut, he was demanding Price end you back to the States.

At first, he wanted nothing to do with you. You get anywhere near him and his gaze scorched you more than exposed Titan flesh.

Then, your first mission happened. After they collected the info they were after, a few hostiles realized you were a distraction and turned their rocket launchers on their position, but before impact, you shielded them with your hand, absorbing the blast and crushing the shooters like they were bugs.

After that, he decided you were owed a little trust. After all, you are a part of 141. (Also, watching you break through an enemy compound was like fucking beautiful.)

Soap

You ever see a child on Christmas morning? That’s exactly how this hardened soldier looked like.

As a demolitions expert, he’s obsessed with being able to deal the most damage to an enemy, leaving them with absolutely nothing worth salvaging. And here you come, being able to do that like it’s nothing!

Of course he’s a little wary of you, but he prides himself on being a good judge of character and seeing you as some poor kid whose whole existence revolved around being the ultimate weapon, he welcomes you with open arms and convinces his team to give you a chance.

No matter the mission, he’ll ALWAYS demand to be on your shoulder as you charge through an enemy base, pancaking hostiles and their equipment like they were bugs. Mostly because he loves watching you deal the kind of destruction he can only dream of, but also because he loves getting to ride on a giant.

Seriously, even on base, he’ll BEG you to give him a ride.

While Gaz shows you all of London’s tourist hot spots, he’ll show you to all his favorite pubs, determined that he’ll be the one to share your first drink with. He’s also determined to bring you to Scotland, insisting “it’s better than those Brits’ city.”

@darkangel4121

#cod mwii #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #male reader #aot

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spacehero-23 · 2 years ago

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I liked this book. i really did. but i’m not gonna pretned it didn’t have some major problems.

So here’s some of my suggestions on how to fix some of them. feel free to add your own!

1) drop the love triangle. no one asked for it. this series did not need a love triangle. and the fact that it dragged for over 300 pages? and for what?

maybe have james tell matthew and cordelia about the bracelet IN PARIS, but ask them not to tell anyone else because he’s not ready for that yet.

and things can still be awkward between them when they come back because james will feel guilty for ruining their trip, cordelia will feel guilty for thinking james would ever cheat and matthew would feel guilty because he saw that something was wrong but never said anything.

have the herondaisy confession happen before the christmas party so matthew would still be pushed to drink (because he sees how happy they are but he’s still in love with cordelia) and boom! so many annoying scenes are gone.

2) write the scene where herondaisy give each other the second runes. It feels wrong that we didn't get that since cassie made such a big deal about it in ChoI.

and then when tatiana crashes the party she could say that their marriage was a sham and cordelia could ask the people who believe tatiana if they want to see her marriage runes or are they done listening to the lady with a knife to a child’s throat.

3) split the second part of the book between London, Edom and Idris. The fact that we didn’t get to see the parents' reaction to their kids being dead, kidnapped by a prince of hell and trapped with vicious killing machines is beyond me. and the trial? charles finally stepping up and defending his family? bridgestock being fired? I think we deserve to see those moments, not just hear that they happened.

4) that secrets scene with lucie and cordelia…why? I mean why this late in the book? It was so unnecessary. If she really wanted to test their friendship she could’ve sent them to Edon BEFORE they made up.

Imagine, they have this huge fight about keeping secrets, they don’t talk to each other for a while, but then they have to work together to save james and matthew and just when they think their friendship is going to be ok, the secret demon shows up. but this time cordelia’s secret is that she knew about the bracelet before james told everyone else (because her actual secret was stupid)

5) have one more chapter before the epilogue!!! where we see the character finally grief. sure they didn’t really have time to do that before because of Belial and the Watchers, but once the dust settles they have this moment of “oh, Christopher is dead” and give him a FUNERAL!!!

(the fact that he didn’t get one feels so wrong)

and end the chapter on a solemn note and THEN give us six months later when we see them finally moving on. And you know…give us Will and Tessa finding out about the bracelet!!! (that one is personal)

#chain of thorns spoilers #chot spoilers #tlh spoilers #the last hours #cassandra clare #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of thorns #chain of iron #chain of gold #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #matthew fairchild #lucie herondale #will herondale #tessa gray #christopher lightwood #shadowhunters #tlh

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thedeafprophet · 18 days ago

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On Matters Of Child Minding

for @awordbroken for the @fallenlondonficswap.. hi charm :3c chance saw fit to assign us, so it seemed only par for the course that I write about a shared topic of interest~ I hope you like it <3

Summary: Mr Fires finds itself yet again tasked to watch over Mr Transport on a day is was not scheduled to care for it.

Words: 1.8k

Also on ao3!

Mr Fires burned with a deep, bitter resentment. This whole matter was indignant and insulting, a true sign of its colleagues' lack of aptitude. There would be hell to pay in response for this insult, this calamity, this-

Its raging thoughts were interrupted by the chirping of the delighted child hanging off its arm, seemingly enjoying the motion of Fires pacing around the room. Its ire simmered down to embers as it moved to scratch the child under the chin where it hung.

Of course, It did not blame Transport for this matter - it bore no responsibility for the failings of its colleagues - but this did not change the fact that it work had been so sorely interrupted.

It had already done much to accommodate its schedule for when it was its turn to care for the child, and yet, somehow it found itself being tasked with it on a day entirely out of planning. It did not care what ‘emergencies’ came up, it had its own work to do - logic that of course was heeded no mind to. Leave it Fires to be the only one to properly follow schedules around here!

Most irritating of all, was that this was not the first time this matter had occurred. For some reason, its damnable colleagues kept finding a way to pass off the caring duties onto Fires whenever the schedule came up dreadfully lacking, as if its work wasn’t a matter to be considered. It knew very well it was far more equipped and experienced then its colleagues, like with most matters, but that didn’t suddenly mean it had all the free time to spare.

Fires couldn’t help as its mind wanders back to oh so long, of times that had passed before with other, smaller chirping things. It shook its head to clear its thoughts; there was no time for pondering the past, nor for the aching emptiness that threatened to creep up in quiet, inactive moments.

It had been this matter of its busy schedule that had kept it from child rearing of its own, of course. Far too busy with work, dedicated to its plans for its factories, for London, all the matters dictating why it hadn't dedicated its time to producing any children in quite some time.

And unlike a certain colleague of its, it would not unfairly pass off its duties onto others.

With the energy of this particular child, and no playmates to help entertain it, it was a full time task in and of itself. Fires almost wonders if it's a matter of its parentage that leads it to being so particularly rambunctious, or if it had simply been far too long since Fires had been around pups. It knows from experience just how much chaos little ones could cause, of how much focus and dedicated time was required to properly care for. It couldn’t help but ponder slight concern on the matter of its soleness - it would be an unideal matter of socialization, to be raised without a creche of other pups.

As it was, Fires went on, doing its best to keep the child occupied, begrudging its lack of work hours all the while. Thinking of the reports delayed as it yet again fetched the child's model train to slobber on, keeping its time preoccupied with tiring out the rambunctious little thing. It knew if it did not entertain it, it would find something else to play with, and Fires was not inclined to have any items in its rooms destroyed.

If perhaps its mood softens at the delighted squeaks and chirps of the child as it played, that was neither here nor there, now was it?

With all due time, even a child as energetic and destructive as Transport was bound to settle down, its new set of teeth proudly shown as it let out a tired yawn. Fires held it gently as it scooped the tired pup up, settling it gently under its arm for the moment, as Transport snuggled its head down finally, finally, nap.

And then Fires was left to ponder in the silence.

It would of course do no well to sit around while the child napped, now would it? The most efficient use of its time would be to get a start on the work it was missing while it napped. It's not like the child could go far, or anyone would duly notice if Fires attended to its own office, and Fires knew itself well enough to know it would not be able to sit still and waste the hours.

It was a simple, logical plan. Mr Fires would simply go to one of its offices, work on the backlog of paperwork that was piling, and make at least some use of time while the child rested.

Yes, it was the simplest course of action.

Or at least, the concept of it was.

As it goes with any matter of trying to organize and work, it was only a matter of time before frustration rose. People’s lack of aptitude and capability never ceased to anger it, and time and time again it found its employees falling short. Sorting the ins and outs of its various factories and experiments is one thing, but the job becomes near impossible when people can't even get their work done on time! Sure, it was behind in delivering its own reports, but that was extenuating circumstances. Its factory managers had no excuse in the matter!

It was only when it came across the third missing report that it gave up altogether, huffing a puff of smoke out from its hood as it dropped the papers back on its desk. Fires drummed its claws on the desk as it considered its course of actions; It would have to seek out those reports from the factories itself.

With a quick check to ensure the child was still sleeping, Fires moved out of its office with a quick gesture towards its staff. It would have to be quick in the matter- there was no telling when it's time would run out, and it was playing a risky game it knows - but it was damn well going to get that report even if it had to drag it out of the foreman itself.

It would need to make the most efficient use of travel time - a matter that would of course involve its dirigible. Sure, all in its city was fair enough to walk between, but why waste time traversing around the scattering ants who would get in its way?

It boarded its ship with a determined moment, deciding to limit it having any crew when it took more than 3 seconds for its pilot to come aboard, electing to travel itself and the rest of its staff would have to find their own way there.

Once it was in flight, directions in order, firm in its plans, Fires looked to check on the child again.

It was not there.

A sharp pang of panic suddenly shot through Mr Fires, of which it quickly worked to rationalize. It shook its own limbs, as if it would suddenly notice the child clinging somewhere else.

It was not there.

Oh. This was… most certainly not ideal. If it misplaced the child, it would never hear the end of it, let alone the chaos of what would happen if it ventured outside to the public. It was most certainly not panicking and fearing for the safety of the child.

It forced itself to think rationally on the situation - it very clearly remembered the child's grasp when it had ventured onto the dirigible, so by all accounts, it could not have gone far. Yes, of course, Fires must have simply gotten distracted during the venture on board and it did not feel the child wander off.

Thus, a thorough search must be conducted on board, it reasoned, and there was no sense in considering the panicked thoughts of if it had wandered off before then, and if Fires would have to search much, much farther before anyone became aware.

It was relieved it had chosen to limit the staff on board as Fires searched around the airship in a fit, moving so quickly it was liable to start catching aflame and smoking the ship out.

It throws open the supply closet door - nothing, not even as it moves around a discarded broom, and lifts up a toppled over bucket.

It checked the side quarters it very, very occasionally rested in - no sign of it there.

Even the smaller backroom of which its employees were to wait in was astoundingly empty.

It was about to truly fall into a panic, rushing back into the control room, when it finally took a moment to glance down at the control panel.

Of course, there Transport was, happily gnawing away at one of the panel’s levers, seemingly overjoyed at its new found ‘toy’, none the wiser of its caretaker’s fearful fretting.

The anxious fury cooled down to embers as a wave of fond amusement passed through Fires at the sight. Had it been here this whole time? Why had Fires not thought to look in the very place it started to panic.

“Ah, I should have known. Fond of the dirigible, are we? Industry is a particularly ideal specimen.” Transport looks up at Fires with its big, bright eyes as it speaks. “Bigger than your little toys, I'm sure. I imagine you and I are going to have quite the manner of arguments when you’re grown, hm? I won’t be separated from my ships without a fight.”

Transport, of course, paid no mind to its comments, continuing to happily gnaw away on a lever.

The child came with only a little manner of tugging its mouth away from the lever as Fires scoops it up, Transport moving to hang happily off its arms as Fires walks closer towards the airships panels. It delights in telling the pup all about the inner workings of the machine, as it watches aptly with bright eyes. Fires wasn’t sure if it was quite at the capability to understand what it was saying yet, but proper education starts young, after all. As it was, its ears peaked up and swiveled around with Fires’ voice as it paid apt attention - at least as much as an energetic pup could.

The matter of the factory reports was all but forgotten as Fires continued to delight in showing off its airship to the little one, moving from the controls, to the panels, to the view out the window as it speaks of its great affection for all it transpires. It doesn’t even mind that the child moves to bite on its sleeve as it talks.

Perhaps it was not so grand an insult to have been left to watch the child unplanned for.

Spices would still be getting through earful later, though. Insults, even minor ones, must still be accounted for.

#when i saw i got you for my partner i absolutely knew immediatly i wanted to write about fires and transport #this is of course the fires and baby bats zone after all right #so! i hope this is indeed enjoyable <3 finally got my brain to sit down and write lmao #fallen london fic swap #fallen london #mr fires #mr transport #my writing

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tiesthatbind-tf · 1 month ago

Note

You said Sentinel was Optimus’s mentor in your AU? What was that partnership like before Optimus left? How did Sentinel treat him, I mean?

Oh, we're going to have to pull up a chair for this hot dumpster fire.

You get some homework reading beforehand.

Optimus Prime (Omar Parvez) and his parents (Mirza and Ariya) are Kurdish political refugees from Iran who were granted asylum in the UK, and Optimus first crossed paths with Sentinel Prime (Sedgewick Princeton), when Sentinel was a young cop. Mirza was a college professor, Ariya was a journalist, needless to say they had people who wanted them silenced, and at one point of time, Sentinel (back then 27) responded to a home invasion at their apartment and saved Mirza's life. OP and Sentinel spoke back then when Sentinel was attempting to calm him down (he made the emergency call as a terrified seven-year-old) and it was this moment that inspired OP as a child to look into law enforcement as a career option when he grew up.

OP put in the work, made the cut to the military/law class despite hailing from parents in the art/education class, and caught the eye of Sentinel, who had become London Police Commissioner. Sentinel, both impressed by OP's work ethic and getting a bit of an ego boost that OP was inspired by him, decided to take OP under his wing when OP graduated, and began work in the Hackney borough.

At this point, Sentinel and OP's relationship was very good. OP was dutiful, excelled in his tasks and showed a lot of initiative, and he treated OP like a son, even to the point of trying to set OP up on blind dates! But OP would see some subtle warning signs, where Sentinel would compliment him in a way that disparaged his background (think the "you're a credit to your people"/"would you believe the child of mere book keepers could become a warrior" type 'compliments'), and played him up as a model minority to an uncomfortable degree.

The real rift started when OP was made Chief Superintendent of the Dead End as a trial by fire (its two previous Chief Superintendents had quit on the job), where he would oversee enforcement there without Sentinel's input and if it worked out, he would be promoted to deputy commissioner in Scotland Yard. OP strayed away from Sentinel's standard policing protocol for a more holistic/facilitative form of policing that focused more on public welfare than making arrest quotas and punitive action.

OP sees severe issues with the system, Sentinel thinks it's working as intended to 'keep order'; OP begins to see cracks in the Sentinel's pedestal and the callousness behind Sentinel's facade of propriety, Sentinel begins to see OP as not as a student, but as a rival, especially when OP's methods work. Both end up in disagreements and rows so bad that Sentinel would hamstring OP's station funding and send his men down there to police OP, because Sentinel still has authority over OP (thought not enough to strip OP of his position in the Dead End because NOTHING OP is doing is technically wrong, it's simply getting in the way of locking up all these 'undesirables' and investments from gentrifying the place).

And when OP gets in the bad graces of Proteus and several Senate members for being a loudmouthed upstart, Sentinel takes the opportunity to throw OP under the bus, fire him and have him blacklisted from future military/law enforcement positions.

That said, whatever schadenfreude Sentinel felt seeing OP reduced to a dockworker (see where disobeying me gets you), was immediately decked in the face by the realisation that OP is no fool; OP had made connections with Hotspot, Ratchet, and local activists to ensure through a network of initiatives and legalities that Dead End remains cared for and in the hands of its residents, regardless of its superintendent.

Sentinel has never forgotten this and has harbored a deep disdain for OP ever since, a disdain which turns into hate when he finds our years later than OP is one of the two rebel leaders of the workers' revolution clashing heads with his forces.

The point of absolutely no return is when Sentinel has OP's father, his only living parent at that point, arrested and publicly executed for sedition via dissemination of banned literature (there is a bit of a personal slant to this; a part of Sentinel is always angry that OP would never see him as a father figure and despite having the strength and discipline of a warrior, remains that soft-hearted, kindly book keeper at heart) in an attempt to crush OP's morale and draw OP and Megatron out into the open (also, it's an interesting narrative bookend, given that Sentinel had saved Mirza on the job years ago; he sees himself in a position to hold both life and death in his hands) The hatred is mutual after this point, and OP prefers to avoid any discussion of Sentinel to this day.

#inbox #lore #save for later #humanformers #optimus prime #sentinel prime

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 10 months ago

Text

Persephone's Devotee (Hello, Mr. Monster AU, I)

Master List

Summary: In the age of Spiritualists and magicians, wyrds winds in different ways to link Dream of the Endless and Aisling Hunt. AU of Hello, Mr. Monster beginning in the 1920s. (Alternatively titled 'We All Hate Roderick Burgess')

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, child left to travel solo, manipulating children for profit (non-sexual trafficking)

A/N: Your bird just got diagnosed with a life changing chronic condition (in addition to being put back on depression meds). We'll see how this post does. Have four chapters planned. The last scene is based on personal experiences with heat exhaustion/borderline heat stroke.

Dream’s tools brought many things to Fawney Rig. Wealth and prestige. Admiration, gifts, and influence. Nearly everything the magus wanted and only a fraction of what he thought he deserved. Roderick’s dreams of power and riches drew another tool to his hand, or perhaps Destiny drew the magus to her. The girl who saw strange things in the dark and found answers to strange riddles in her cards. But her wyrd would always draw her to old house and its shrouded dungeon, in any world or time. All because of what the Burgesses kept there.

In the eight years since the fateful evening he summoned and caught one of the Endless, Roderick had become a man much desired. He found himself with an invitation to Lord and Lady Werthrope’s party, a guest of honor at a soiree at their country estate. They promised a night of occult mysteries and foreign prizes. Bits of people and places from across the empire and beyond. Mummies from Egypt and fragments of Greek antiquities to gasp and shriek over with glasses of champagne and brandy.

Roderick carried himself as Lord Werthrope’s equal, and at least for that night, surrounded by ancient mysteries of all kinds, he was seen as such. He was an expert, a guide, someone to hold in reverence rather than an oddity to gawk over. He told them with his bearing, his dignity, and the ruby he wore on a golden chain around his neck. His wishes became dreams and so became real. He stood like a stronger god beside the broken figure of Apollo and scoffed at the mistranslations of texts he’d only ever read secondhand.

Beside the wonders kept under guard at home, what were these paltry things? He could have any of them he desired, and he’d already claimed better.

His sense of superiority carried him through the party’s early hours, moving from acrobats in elaborate costumes, to fire eaters, to ghost stories and flights of fancy spun by swindlers far below his consideration. He had an answer or alternative for everything. And then he met the girl.

She sat at a bare table with no long cloth to hide rolling ankles, clever fishing lines, or knocking accomplices. Only a candle and a deck of cards separated her from the guests, and she’d drawn quite a queue. Her feet didn’t even reach the floor, swinging idly between the legs of the chair as she read the cards of a distraught-looking dandy.

Taking his arm, Lady Werthrope said, “This one you really must see, Magus. She’s made quite the splash in New York and London.”

The Magus offered a tolerant smile. “And what is the trick? Does she blow out the candle? Bend spoons?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” The lady practically vibrated, eager to impress as she led them to the table, scattering the line. “She sees things, and she reads fortunes like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had more than a few pet psychics in my time. This one’s a bit of a sad story.”

The magus clenched his jaw until the muscle in his cheek twitched. He could make whatever sob story the girl shilled much worse. Of all the frauds and liars who feigned knowledge of the occult, Roderick Burgess hated mediums and ghost whisperers the most. The tantalizing promise of connection with Randal – always waved in his face, always ultimately denied – it clawed open the rotting wound in his heart, and he let the poison drip back on any fools who tried his patience.

Let this one try to pull the wool over his eyes, and he’d unmask her in front of this glittering audience. She’d be a penniless sad story when he was through.

“Those people,” the lady said, nodding to a couple flanking the child, “are just the adoptive parents. Saw her family murdered, poor thing. They say that’s what cracked her open to the other world.”

“Do they indeed.” He kept his smile, showing his teeth as his grip flexed over the cane in his free hand. “Then I look forward to her performance.”

The Magus and the lady sat across from the faux family, and the girl looked at them. The people who weren’t her parents did not manage her well, Burgess couldn’t help noting. They’d painted her up with rogue and kohl that made her look even more like a child playing grownup games, and the feather in her headband hung limp and lifeless. She barely managed to grimace through a smile, and she spoke with all the enthusiasm of a student reporting on Ovid to the class.

“What are you asking?” A child’s voice really shouldn’t be so dull. Now that he was nearer, the Magus couldn’t help wondering if she was even younger than he’d first assumed. Not even ten, he thought, and already so exhausted.

It wasn’t what he’d expected. He kept his guard, but curiosity stirred beneath. She was no great performer.

Lady Werthrope leaned forward, eager to take the first reading as the girl shuffled her cards. They were nearly too big for her to manage, but in this at least she clearly had much practice. Her handling of the tarot was the most natural element of her demeanor he’d yet to see.

The lady talked about her dog Moxy, a cocker spaniel much loved and terribly spoiled. It was getting on in years, and, well, ought she prepare for anything dreadful? Only, her friend had just lost her terrier, and she couldn’t chase it from her thoughts…

The cards appeared on the table. One by one. The Six of Cups. The Two of Swords. And, lastly, the Nine of Swords reversed.

“Moxy is well-loved.” The child pointed to the first card. “That’s the foundation. But she’s getting older, and she may go blind eventually. She’s accepted it, though, and you will, too.” She smiled a little, hesitantly, like a pet used to getting kicked when she barked at company. The Magus noted how her gaze flicked to her pseudo-father.

Lady Werthrope clucked and reached over to squeeze the child’s hand. “You’re very honest. And very sweet. Now, won’t you show the Magus what you can do?”

Obediently, she gathered the cards and folded the deck, shuffling them with the fresh energy of her next customer. “What do you want to know?”

Roderick considered. It was a little below him to ask anything specific of a child spiritualist, and he still meant to test her. Hate stirred the old thorn in his heart, and although she didn’t speak with ghosts to earn her bread, he didn’t need to justify himself.

“I’ll leave the question to you.” He squinted in a way that may seem affectionate, but it was only sharp, a predator focusing on little fawn to see how quickly it might run. “What do you see?”

She flinched, lifting her eyes from the cards to meet his in a fleeting, startled glance. Like he’d come near to guessing something she didn’t say out loud. But then she bent over the deck, back to her work as the woman behind her set a hand on her shoulder.

“Be good, Aisling,” the adoptive mother said. “Show the Magus your skills. Don’t embarrass us.”

The child rolled her lip between her teeth, sorting the task quickly. One card. Two cards. Three cards. Tap, tap, tap on the bare table. The Magician’s face glowed in the candle light, and Roderick blinked. A good tarot reader must have good luck in order to draw the appropriate cards – or a marked deck. But he’d watched those little hands like a hawk, and he’d seen nothing. It wasn’t definitive proof by any means, but Roderick Burgess knew himself to be cleverer than a child.

Pointing to the first card, the Magician, the girl said, “You’re the Magus. The Magician is your creation of yourself.” The second card was the Nine of Cups. “Your cups all overflow, and you enjoy the plenty you already have.” And then there was the Ace of Pentacles. Roderick wondered for a moment if she’d laid the cards out of the intended order, but she simply said, “There is new wealth coming. You’ve just found something that will bring you more good fortune. The benefits will grow in the months and years to come.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.” He looked for cracks, and there were many. Fatigue clouded her eyes and weighted the end of every sentence. Not a sign of a lie, though. She couldn’t even pretend to be happy for the audience.

He turned the interaction over in his mind through the rest of the night, wearing away the questions and presumptions like the rough edges of a stone, and by the later hours, he thought he might hold a jewel.

The adoptive parents made themselves easy to find. They hadn’t left the table. Neither had the girl. The lord and lady hired them to entertain, and they stayed at their posts. They’d gathered refreshments, but no cup or plate sat on the table, and he wondered if they had any idea children needed things like water after a long night of speaking with strangers.

Really. The scheme was too transparent. The only lies hid in any manner of affection the parents pretended for the child they claimed.

The Magus marched up to the table, rapping the top with his cane to seize the drowsy girl’s attention. She blinked, started licking her dry lips, caught herself, and pinched her mouth closed with her teeth.

“Aisling, wasn’t it?” He nodded to her, encouraging her to echo the motion. “I would like a word with you. No cards. No reading. Just a conversation. Alone.”

The father stepped forward, ready to defend his meal ticket. “Sir, I’m afraid we can’t just –”

“The girl and I will sit here, at this table,” he tapped it again to make his point, “and you will both stand over there.” The cane swung to point towards the bar, which was well within sight but well out of earshot.

When the man moved to protest again, Roderick pulled out his wallet, and the father’s mouth snapped shut. A few pounds bought the adults’ willing compliance, and they went off in search of drinks with barely a backwards glance. Roderick settled into the seat he claimed earlier, watching the girl squirm. Her hands fluttered restlessly between her lap and the table, clearly used to the cards, uneasy without the form and ritual of a reading to guide the conversation.

That was well enough. Roderick had his own plans.

He signaled one of the roving staff, and as the waiter approached, he ordered, “A lemonade for the young lady.”

With a bow, the server hurried off, and the Magus smiled, lips closed, tilting his head as his legs crossed under the table. He was not a client. He was an adult who noticed, who might be moved to care, and in the few hours of their acquaintance, he was already offering more than anyone else.

“So, you see things?”

Her eyes snapped from him to the people who managed her. Then back again, and down to her lap.

“I’m not supposed to upset people.” She picked at the fringe on the garish frock she wore – entirely unsuited to her age and clearly uncomfortable. “It upsets Mr. and Mrs. Foster when I see things. Or when I talk about them.”

The Magus nodded, unsurprised. He wondered if the people who adopted her even realized her talents were genuine when they snatched her up. They had too many connections and too much showmanship to be anything other than experienced con artists. This little Aisling must be very sensitive, and the truly sensitive didn’t see strictly good, kind, or encouraging things. How she must terrify the fools.

The server returned with a cut crystal glass rattling with ice. The girl thanked the server, then thanked her benefactor, and wrapped her hands around the condensation-slicked sides. She sipped carefully, and Roderick could see the tension ease from her posture as she drank. Desperate as she was, she didn’t gulp, and with clear regret, she set the drink on the table still two-thirds full. But she kept her hands on the glass, lest some waiter assume she was finished and spirit it away.

“I won’t be upset, and I’d like to believe you.” Angling his head down to peer at her meaningfully, employing a look he’d once used when his son misbehaved, he asked, “What have you seen tonight that would upset people?”

The girl looked around, shifting so her chair creaked. This time, it wasn’t her adoptive parents she feared. Any ears may be a threat. When she leaned in, the Magus copied her, silently assuring her the secret would be safe with him.

“There’s a guest who’s not a guest, and he isn’t a man, either.”

The Magus hummed. “Say I believe you. Could you prove it?”

Seduced into the invitation of an adult confidant, and revived by the lemonade, she rushed to answer. She wanted to prove herself. She wanted to be believed and heard. The Magus was listening, and he was beginning to believe as well.

“The man paid the footman with holly leaves,” she hissed in a loud whisper. “The footman folded them like bank notes, and the spines stabbed his palms, but he didn’t notice. Look for the one with blood on his gloves.”

“And the man who isn’t a man?”

Shrinking back, the girl shook her head until the headband went crooked. Her hand pressed over her heart, rubbing hard circles as her face creased.

“He’d know I saw him,” she said. “I don’t let them know I see them anymore.”

Now there was a tale and no mistake. A child with enough power to annoy things beyond the veil – one that survived an encounter – was rare indeed.

“What happened?” He lent his tone a shade of concern. Facts, he found, traveled swiftest to a sympathetic ear, and he needed to know everything. Curiosity was growing into practical fervor as the first dreams of a plan grew into place. “Are you ill?”

She crumbled just a little bit more, folding into herself to protect the place she rubbed from some invisible threat. “Sometimes I see things that don’t want to be seen. One of them – hurt me. There’s no scar, but it hurt me, and now it aches.”

The Magus donned a solemn expression, though he felt a thrill at the prospect sitting before him. The little girl had unusual skills, and though she wasn’t handled well by the adults governing her, they must still turn a pretty penny showing her in salons and private homes. He’d confirm what she’d said, of course, validate her little proof, but she was either a better liar than he’d ever met or she was childishly honest. He knew where he’d put his money.

Where he might very well invest it, actually.

He didn’t say goodbye, only nodding as he rose and went in search of the servant with bloody gloves.

Of course, he found him. When he demanded to see what the footman had in his pockets, the boy paled, stammering excuses, only to pull out a handful of forest detritus. As the young man fell into a whirl of confusion and disappointment, the Magus truly smiled. The first real smile since Lady Werthrope brought him to the child’s table.

He must have a proper conversation with the girl’s current guardians.

Aisling clung to her bag, drowning in the heat as the train pulled away from the Wych Cross platform. Men and women fanned themselves with hats and newspapers, desperate for a breeze in the dead summer stillness. Ladies shed their gloves. Men loosened their ties. Propriety mattered less when the air was trying to suffocate them, a crushing, inescapable oven scalding the usually damp countryside.

A miserable day to travel.

Sweat dripped down her back, soaking the neck of her dress, gluing her hair to her skin. But she didn’t have a free hand to stir a breeze. Her bag was too heavy, full of everything she would need in her new home, or at least everything the Fosters thought they couldn’t sell for a profit. Mrs. Foster took her to the train station and dropped her at the door.

“Here’s your ticket. You’re heading to Wych Cross, and then to Fawney Rig. Don’t forget, and don’t miss your train,” she’d said. Then she climbed back into the cab beside Mr. Foster and disappeared into the flow of London traffic.

They’d sold her on to someone else, and now they were free of her.

She peered around the station, but it was really just a platform. In London, there were helpful adults in uniforms and suits who pointed out the right train and the right stairs to reach it. Nothing here told her how to find Fawney Rig, though, and the only adult in a uniform seemed to be the man in the ticket booth.

She’d find her way. She wasn’t a baby after all. She was eight. And she could read very well, and no one was coming to help her, so she better figure it out.

She stood in line for the ticket man’s attention. Surely, he could give her directions. The Magus was rich, and a little famous, she thought, so his neighbors must know where he lived. If the man in the booth didn’t know, she’d keep asking until she found someone who did. While she waited her turn, she set down her suitcase and sat on it, taking deep breaths that tasted like salt. It could be worse. What if it rained instead? Well. Actually. Rain sounded very nice.

Soon enough, she took her place in front of the booth, and the man frowned under his mustache like she’d arrived with a bill or a letter from someone nasty. She smiled prettily, the way the Fosters told her to, and tried to make herself look like less of a problem as she clutched her case again.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but do you know the way to Fawney Rig?”

He physically recoiled, and his frown hooked deeper with glowering doubt as he scanned her. “Fawney Rig? That devil worshiper’s house? Why do you want to know?”

“I’ve been sent to live there, sir. I’m expected, but I don’t think they’ve sent anyone for me.” Manners made things easier with adults. Good manners and clear words – the fewer the better.

But the man wasn’t swayed. He looked thunderous. Like she’d broken something valuable and ought to pay for it with a lashing.

“Do you have money for a cab?”

The Fosters didn’t own her anymore, and they’d given her nothing but cards, and costumes, and a hairbrush. All the cash stayed warm and safe in their pockets.

“No, sir.”

“Then walk down the main road. Go east from the village, and keep going until there are no more houses you can see from the street. There’ll be a path on the left with a big iron gate. Follow that and you’ll find your devil worshipers.” He waved her off like he’d slap her if not for the glass. “Next!”

Manners got her what she needed, at least. “Thank you.”

The other adults all moved aside as she trundled through with her case. It made it easier to avoid clipping ankles and shins with her luggage, but she wondered if they hated her the way the ticket man hated her – because of Fawney Rig – or if she simply smelled after the long, stuffy ride in third class. Not that adults needed an excuse to dislike her. The nice ones called her uncanny and gifted. The mean ones called her a witch, and a bastard devil-spawn, and other names a mother should wash out of their mouths with soap.

She wasn’t sure which ones were telling the truth.

She knew the way forward, though. To Fawney Rig. That was good, even if the other adults didn’t think so. The Magus may not be a nice person, she hadn’t known him long enough for the usual adult lies to wear thin enough to see through, but he was smarter than the Fosters, and he’d given her a lemonade, so maybe she wouldn’t be as hungry or thirsty under his guardianship. She’d still have to work. Adults only wanted her if they thought she could give them something. But everything was more bearable with a good dinner and cold drinks.

She hoped he’d give her another cold drink, even water with some ice, when she reached his home. The train ride left her terribly thirsty.

Leaving the shaded platform, she bowed away from the sun’s violent touch and started on her journey. The village only kept a cobbled road in the center of town. It led up to the train station, linking it to a clutch of shops and offices. A parish church sat a little way back from the road, separated from the secular world by a field of tidy tombstones in heat-bleached grass. People noticed her. They looked. They whispered to each other. But no one waved or offered a hand. Gossip didn’t move fast enough to beat her here from the train, and she wondered how people could tell she was odd. Society had so many rules beyond manners, but no one would tell her what they were, and she never guessed right.

By the time the cobblestones ended, she was struggling to hold onto her suitcase. The handle kept trying to slip from her fingers, even when she held it with both hands, and she had to work harder and harder to keep it out of the dirt. If she knew anything about the world, it was that good children didn’t drag their luggage, and bad things happened to those that did. She’d travelled enough to learn, and she wanted to make a good impression on her new keeper and his household.

The road outside of town went a very, very long way. The ticket seller’s instructions made each step sound the same length: go through town, pass the houses, go down the long drive past the gates. Her imagination had lied to her, though. Every time she thought she’d passed the last house, there came another. Each handed her down the chain of cottage gardens and small homes full of families who pretended not to see. They all knew she’d done something, like she had a brand on her forehead, and she wasn’t allowed to stop. She didn’t try to.

Everything looked sickly yellow in the midday glare. Dust hung in the air, stirred by passing cars, lingering without a breath of wind to dispel the choking clouds. Everything looked flat and dead, so much so she almost missed the gate. Another leg of her trek done. Still too far to go, and the private road leading to the Magus’ home was longer than it had any right to be.

She didn’t feel well. The trees gave her a little protection, but her stomach and lungs felt hard, strained, the way her arms ached with carrying her suitcase. Only they were parts that shouldn’t feel that way, and she thought maybe she should sit down.

But she was almost there.

Even if she walked slowly, and her feet didn’t land quite where she told them to.

She just wouldn’t think about those things. Complaining was just making excuses, and she was expected.

The house appeared out of nowhere, or she was too dizzy to see it through the leaves before the last turn in the drive. It loomed, a very final-looking destination, and her suitcase escaped her grasp. The case was slippery, and her fingers didn’t curl the way they should. She bent to pick it up, and when she straightened, the whole world spun.

She stood very still until it stopped, and she found herself shivering as she approached the front door. Very strange. Was she afraid? No. That didn’t sound right. She felt terrible, too terrible to worry, and none of it made sense.

But she’d nearly made it. She had made it. Almost.

Knocking summoned a young man, and the door creaked open as he glanced down with a quizzical expression. “Hello? Can I help you?”

She tried holding her suitcase with just one hand, but it slipped away again, barely missing her foot. Maybe a handshake was a bad idea. The stranger hadn’t held his hand out for a shake, after all. She was just confused. He might not want to touch her. And she must look a picture after her walk.

She should’ve done something differently. If she were smarter, or taller, or…

“I’m Aisling Hunt, sir. The Magus sent for me.”

“Oh.” The young man’s eyes popped wider, and she wondered if he was younger than she thought at first. Stepping back, he pulled open the door to usher her inside. “I’m sorry. I’d heard someone was coming, but I’d thought you’d be… well, older. And I’m just Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Aisling.”

He nodded and plucked her bag from where she’d dropped it. “Yes. You said. Are you feeling alright?”

She didn’t know. And grownups didn’t really like it when she was unwell anyway. Before she could come up with a suitable lie that would get her what she needed without stepping on any toes, a familiar face appeared at the end of the hall.

“Ah! You made it.” Out of formal dress, the Magus still brimmed with authority. Aisling had met many adults who wore costumes and pretended to be something they weren’t, but the Magus seemed like he’d somehow stitched his chosen persona into his skin. “Welcome to Fawney Rig.”

She wobbled. “Thank you, sir.”

“Magus,” he corrected.

“Thank you, Magus, sir.”

At last, what he was seeing overshadowed his enthusiasm, and the old man frowned. “Did you walk here? From the station?”

“Yes, Magus.”

“The Fosters didn’t even give you money for a fucking cab?”

“Just the train ticket, sir. Magus.”

She blinked, and the whole room turned blue, like peering at the world through stained glass. It looked so pretty she didn’t realize the Magus was asking her another question until his hand settled on her shoulder.

His voice came from far away. “Can you hear me?”

Yes, she wanted to say. Yes, Magus, I walked, and I found Fawney Rig all on my own, and I’m not useless, please don’t throw me away yet.

But everything looked cool, and blue, and lovely. She was floating in it. Floating and so awfully heavy at the same time. The color slipped in with her breath, eroding her control until it slipped from her grasp like the suitcase had.

The world went dark, and she didn’t see, hear, or say anything more.

And deep below, in the belly of the house, Dream of the Endless waited in his cage, as senseless to the world above as she.

#morpheus x reader #fic: persephone's devotee #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x oc #dream of the endless x oc #fic: hello mr. monster

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anomalyaly · 16 days ago

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MCOctober Day 31: How does your MC spend Halloween?

I'll answer this with the Halloween mini oneshot I wrote. AO3/Wattpad.

The (After) Life of the Party

It's Elsie's little sister Lydia's first year and subsequent first Halloween feast at Hogwarts. What could go wrong?

~2k words, no warnings

“I thought Mum and Dad always said Halloween was full of witchcraft.”

Elsie snorted at the irony of her little sister’s comment. “And they were right. You are a witch, after all.”

“Oh, yeah! I guess so.”

Elsie smiled and shook her head at Lydia, who was bouncing excitedly in the Ravenclaw common room. It was her sister’s first year at Hogwarts, and although Elsie had enjoyed a Halloween feast her fifth year, there had been other distractions that had prevented her from fully remembering it. She was excited to be able to have a pleasant time, barring any unforeseen circumstances.

Of course, her sister, being the unbridled ball of chaos that she was, could change that pleasantness at the tip of a hat. Her affinity for seeking out danger rivaled Sebastian’s, enough so that she had told the Slytherin pointedly to stay away from her. She would have to keep a close eye on her tonight.

“Are you ready to head to the Great Hall?” Samantha Dale emerged from hers and Elsie’s shared room with a bright smile on her face.

“Ready!” Elsie replied cheerfully.

Samantha tilted her head, confused. “Um, Elsie? I thought your sister was joining us. Where is she?”

“What do you mean? She’s right –”

Elsie gasped, realizing Lydia was no longer standing beside her. She whirled around the room looking for any sign of the small, curly-haired, rambunctious child before turning back to Samantha with a worried expression.

“This is not good. We need to find her!”

“Okay!” Samantha started to head out the door. “Let’s hurry!”

The two Ravenclaw girls dashed out of the common room and down the never-ending staircase, shoving Duncan Hobhouse out of the way as he attempted to hide up in the common room from the night’s events like the coward she knew him to be.

“Hey! Watch it!” He shouted as Elsie elbowed her way past him. She didn’t have time to apologize – not that she would have wanted to anyway after he had referred to her sister by a not-so-nice name on her first week.

They sprinted down the corridors when they spotted Sebastian about to wander into the Great Hall for the feast.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” He flashed his signature grin. “No need to run, sweetheart. I’m sure the house elves have prepared plenty of treats for –”

“Not now,” she interrupted, not in the mood for any of his sarcastic quips. “Have you seen Lydia?”

“Mini-Corvin‘s gone missing?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I just saw her.”

Elsie fidgeted nervously on the spot, impatient for his answer. “Where is she?”

Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly, his lack of urgency serving to infuriate her. “She was down here a moment ago. Seemed distracted. I saw her go into the Great Hall with a basket, come back out, and head out the door.”

“And you just…let her go?” Elsie gritted her teeth.

“You told me to stay away from her.”

Elsie ran her fingers through her hair and groaned. “Now you listen to me?” She looked to Samantha for any help, who only offered her a sympathetic half-hearted smile.

“I’m sure she’ll turn up,” he replied casually, patting Elsie gently on the arm. “She can’t have gone far.”

She looked at him wearily. “She once sneaked away from home and made it all the way to downtown London before my parents even realized she was gone.”

His smile fell. “How is your sister not in Slytherin?”

“Thank Merlin for that, too,” Elsie sighed, rubbing her face. “She doesn’t need a common room filled with your influence.”

“Is that why you told me to stay away from her?” Sebastian laughed heartily. “Afraid she’ll learn a thing or two about causing mischief from yours truly?”

“She doesn’t need to learn. You let her escape.”

“You said not to bother her!”

“You never listen to anything I say anyway! Why now?”

He smirked, leaning his face towards hers. “Maybe I’m just trying to keep you on your toes. Your life would be boring if I didn’t try to send you into a frenzy every so often, wouldn’t it?”

She raised a finger at him in an attempt to stop the mocking before it escalated further. “Don’t you dare –”

“Shouldn’t we be focused on finding her?” Samantha interjected, stepping between them. “Instead of…you know, standing here bickering?”

Both Sebastian and Elsie turned toward Samantha, momentarily forgetting she was still standing there listening to the whole exchange.

“Right.” Elsie crossed her arms and took a pointed step away from Sebastian. “Where did you say she was headed?”

“I didn’t.” Sebastian gestured to the door. “But, it seemed like she was on a quest to leave the castle, wherever she was going. Not sure where else she would want to be on her first Halloween feast.”

Elsie turned on her heel and ran toward where Sebastian had pointed. She yanked open the large, wooden door and spotted a trail of candy wrappers that led out to the ends of the Hogwarts grounds. Samantha picked one up off the ground. Freshly unwrapped.

“You don’t suppose –”

“Oh, I do,” Elsie said, taking the wrapper from Samantha. “This has Lydia written all over it.”

“Well, look at that.” Sebastian dusted his hands as if he had accomplished the greatest feat in the world. “Now you know where to look. I’m off to the Great Hall to enjoy the feast, but you two ladies have fun.”

Elsie grabbed him by the shirt collar. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re coming with us.”

“But why?” He whined like a kicked puppy. “The feast is the whole point of the night! If we go scouting now, we’ll miss it.”

Samantha and Elsie exchanged a look. “You’re always complaining I don’t bring you on my adventures,” Elsie said, rolling her eyes.

“I hardly think babysitting your sister counts as an adventure,” he grumbled.

“Sebastian, please.” Elsie released him from her hold, her voice taking on a softer tone. “You can have all the pumpkin pasties you want when we find her. And, if we miss the feast, I will personally bake you a bunch myself as a thank-you.”

His eyes widened in horror. “That sounds more like a threat than a reward.”

She ignored his comment about her skills, or lack thereof, in the kitchen and prodded him. “I’m not hearing a no.”

He rolled his eyes at her, a smile playing on his lip. “Fine. Since you begged, I suppose I can agree.”

“I did not beg.”

“Did too.”

“Did not!��

“Guys!” Samantha interjected. “We’re wasting time!”

“....right.”

They followed the path of discarded candy wrappers that led outside of the school grounds and along the trail toward Hogsmeade. To Elsie’s chagrin, the trail didn’t take them to Hogsmeade. Instead, they curved around the bend to the worst possible location where they could have found themselves on Halloween night. Her stomach knotted at the sight of the wrappers rustling in the wind along the rickety bridge to the Forbidden Forest, her mind conjuring up a variety of terrible scenarios of where Lydia could be or what could be happening to her.

“Oh, fantastic.” Elsie groaned as she cast Lumos and stepped past the archway. Sebastian leaned over her shoulder.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and not run into any spiders this time.”

When he saw Elsie’s exasperated look, he grinned. “What? I’m simply trying to be optimistic.”

Samantha forged on ahead, picking up candy wrappings as she trotted along the path and ignored the muttered bickering behind her. She stopped at the end of the bridge and glanced around apprehensively before Elsie came up behind her.

“She can’t be too far now. The candy wrappers are dwindling.”

Sebastian jogged ahead a few paces and scanned the path up ahead as Samantha cast a skeptical glance toward her roommate. “Just an observation, but you two seem awfully comfortable with wandering about the Forbidden Forest.”

Elsie’s boots crunched along the path as she carefully stepped over a tree root. “We’ve been down this path a few times.”

“You and Sebastian?” Samantha’s curious expression evolved into a sly grin.

Elsie whirled around to face her, and Samantha stepped back as she was momentarily blinded by the bright light on her wand. “Merlin’s beard, Sam! Not like that!”

“I was only teasing,” she giggled. “No need to get so defensive.”

She marched on ahead, and a flustered Elsie followed closely behind, rambling an explanation about how it was related to something Professor Fig had needed, and sometimes I do favors for other students and he offers moral support, and stop giggling Samantha you know it’s not like that. She was thankful that Sebastian had gone far enough ahead that he couldn’t hear their conversation.

They stopped suddenly when Sebastian turned around to meet them halfway down the path, shushing Elsie’s yammering and Samantha’s incessant giggling in warning. “There’s something up the path. Or, rather, someone.”

Elsie’s face contorted with worry. “Is it Lydia?” she whispered.

“Sounds like it,” he muttered softly. “But she’s not alone.”

The two girls immediately grew serious as they raised their wands. Elsie’s eyes flared with determination. “We’ll take them head-on then.”

Sebastian nodded. “Agreed.”

The three of them crept along the treeline, listening carefully and preparing to ambush the mysterious stranger who had Lydia. A million thoughts whirled in Elsie’s head as she wondered what they could want with a first-year Ravenclaw girl until she heard a high-pitched screech.

She couldn’t wait any longer. “Now!”

The trio burst into view with their wands raised. Lydia, who had been sitting at a table tucked behind a tree in a dark corner of the forest, stood abruptly and raised hers in return. Elsie’s jaw dropped at the sight before her.

“Lydia?!”

The tiny child stood next to a small, candlelit table that Elsie recalled running into a year prior. However, Lydia had decorated it with a tablecloth and a spread of mini sandwiches, pastries, and dainty teacups. But what surprised her the most was her guest of honor - the infamous ghost of none other than Richard Jackdaw.

“Jackdaw,” Elsie took a step forward, and angrily pointed her wand at the ghost, “you’d better have a damn good explanation as to why you’ve kidnapped my sister on All Hallows Eve and dragged her out into the middle of the Forbidden Forest for a tea party.”

Jackdaw held his hands up placatingly. “I didn’t drag her out here. This was all her idea! I merely provided the location!”

Elsie’s eyes flicked back over to Lydia, who, at the very least, had the gall to look remorseful. “I met him that time you took me to Hogsmeade. I only wanted to do something nice.”

She remembered it well – due to being the “hero of Hogwarts”, Elsie had been given a one-time ‘free pass’ by Professor Weasley to escort Lydia into Hogsmeade as a special treat, though it was unheard of for first-years. Lydia had wandered off, as usual, and Elsie knew that if Weasley had caught wind of it, she would never allow the child out of the castle again. Though, considering the sight before her, she would probably be right in doing so.

“I thought ghosts could only come out from where they live on Halloween, so I planned this all out. I even brought treats.” Lydia held out a basket of all the unwrapped candies she had been carrying through the forest. Elsie made a mental note to do better with explaining the differences between muggle folklore and magic to Lydia later.

“Lyds,” Elsie said gently, “you know…ghosts can’t eat candy.”

The group stared at each other in silence, disbelief crossing all of their faces simultaneously. Sebastian broke it by bursting into uncontrolled laughter, and Samantha raised an eyebrow while Elsie flushed and shot him a glare.

“Come on, you have to admit it’s at least a tiny bit funny,” he said once his laughter had subsided. He swaggered over to the table and picked at the food on one of the platters, taunting Lydia as she tried in vain to smack his hand away.

Despite herself, Elsie smiled at the sight and chuckled lightly. “I suppose so.”

Halloween was a night meant for mischief, after all. She secretly knew that given Lydia’s history and the environment of the forest, the situation could have turned out much worse, and she was grateful that it hadn’t. Jackdaw may not have been the best influence, but an innocent tea party under floating candles was hardly worth retribution - especially because it was Lydia’s suggestion in the first place. She shrugged at Samantha and accepted their fate. The two of them joined the ghost, the young girl, and the freckled Slytherin at the table.

And, although they missed the annual feast, Elsie thought that a tea party with a ghost in the dark ambiance of the Forbidden Forest was a fitting way for the Corvin girls to celebrate their first Halloween at Hogwarts together.

#hogwarts legacy #hlmcoctober2024 #mcoctober2024 #mctober2024 #and that's a wrap!#I DID IT #elsie corvin #sebastian sallow

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nightmarevore · 6 months ago

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Michael blinks, watching his surroundings. Green hues look around in an attempt to take in the surrounding area before landing on the silhouette of someone sitting down in the distance. It looked like… a little boy?

This is so vastly different from the previous place he’d just been in…. He recalls a fire, and falling, but not much else.

This new location was far too unfamiliar to him, and the closest person Michael could see was the person in the distance. With a huff, he makes haste to approach whoever was ahead. As he got closer and closer, he could make out more of the boy, and he was correct in his assessment of him being young.

Weirdly enough, he appeared to be sitting in front of some sort of old, covered up well on the ground. The boy had been staring down inside of it with his legs curled up to his chest. How long had he been sitting here?

“Hey… Excuse me, where are we?” Michael spits out, completely disoriented.

The boy nearly jumps at the sudden voice. Someone else was here? He turns his head to look at the newcomer. He looked like a teenager, at most. Someone older than him.

“Oh, um… my neighborhood?” He replies.

“Well, sure, but where? As in, what city? I think I’m lost.” Michael’s voice is cautious. The little boy’s eyes were a solid, bright green. He hadn’t seen eyes like that since…

“Oh, um… London, I think is what Father says, we’re in London.” His voice is quiet. Nearly a whisper.

London couldn’t be correct. How did Michael get from St. George, Utah, all the way to London, England? If that was the case, we was super lost. How did he get here again?

There was fire. There was a robot. There was…

“Hrrk—!” A sudden pain shoots through Mike’s head at the thought. Alright, try not to think about that.

“Are you okay, Mister?” The kid’s turned fully towards the older man, tilting his head. “You went pale.”

“Oh, I’m… fine, sorry, I think I have a bit of a headache.” Michael chuckles awkwardly. “Thank you for telling me where we are, do you mind telling me your name?”

The boy hesitates. He thinks that he’s not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially ones that are older than him. All they do is bully him. But this man didn’t seem to have the intent to hurt him. Maybe he was okay?

“Will. William.” He answers in a flat tone, soon looking back down to the deep crevice in the earth.

“Will, huh?” The name sent unease down Michael’s spine. The boy’s eyes had a sort of emptiness to them that seemed so uncharacteristic for someone of his age. “Why do you keep looking down there, Will?”

“My bunny is down there.” Green, focused eyes remain locked onto the entrance. “They didn’t get him when they got me out.”

Oh.

Michael looks down, trying to look to the bottom. He couldn’t see it, the sky’s overcast made it too dark to see down inside the pit. William fell down there.

“….. I’m hungry.” William suddenly says, mindlessly. He’s seemingly unphased by his words, but Michael spots the boy’s hand balling his shirt in his fist just over his stomach. “It hurts.”

Michael bites his lip. It hurts? That sounds awfully familiar. The pang of hunger is all too familiar to him.

“You can go home and eat, right?” The older boy feels like he already knows the answer.

William shakes his head, confirming Michael’s suspicions.

“Nothing helps.” He turns to look at the older boy, and as he speaks, Michael can see vaguely sharper teeth in his mouth. They stick out as he talks. Michael finally understands.

He doesn’t know how or why, but he’s standing in front of his father as a child. The thought sickens him and makes him dizzy—How is this even possible?

William Afton, the man who killed all those children, sat before him as a child himself. The monster. The man who ruined everything for all of Hurricane. He’s…. just a starving kid. Michael wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to throw himself down the well and hope that nobody cares to save him. Maybe bring William down with him.

But he… can’t. He can’t do that. William, like this, doesn’t deserve it. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Nothing helps.” William repeats to himself. “I’m hungry all the time. I don’t… Like being hungry. It hurts. I don’t know how to not be hungry.”

This pulls Michael out of his own head. There’s desperation in his voice that Michael hasn’t heard before. Definitely not from the flat tone of his voice from before. It’s a familiar desperation. Michael knows all too well what it means to be hungry. Ravenous. Starving.

Father always used his hunger as a source of control. He’s who made Michael terrified of the fact he’d a pred, after all. Father would hurt and play with his food. His prey. Cocky and confident. Always hungry and always demanding more. Nothing could satisfy father. Nothing did satisfy him. He would always want more. He was terrifying.

Nothing quite like the kid in front of him.

Michael felt awful. Both in who his father is, and the fact he felt the need to help the boy before him.

“You have sharp teeth?” Michael finally speaks.

“Huh? Oh…. yeah. I don’t know why. They’re very sharp.” William’s gaze breaks from the well, finally shifting to the older boy. He shifts uncomfortably. “They call me a freak. A monster. I think I agree with them.”

This takes Michael by surprise. He’s just a kid, why would he even be a monster? It’s true that he becomes one, but…. He’s so innocent right now.

Right now, Michael reminds himself. He knows he’s a monster. He deserves to fall into that well.

He’s just a kid!

“Well, if it means anything, I think it’s unique. Look.” Michael begins, pushing his thoughts aside. He’s going to ignore the fact that his heart is racing in his chest. Taking a breath, Michael lifts his hand to lift up the corner of his lip, showing off one of his sharper canines.

William’s face lights up. He finally stands, his attention fully on the stranger.

“You have them, too? You’re a monster, too?!” Excitement riddles his voice. He’s full of so much child-like joy.

See? He’s just a child.

Michael pulls his hand out of his mouth, chuckling. He shakes his head.

How pathetically ironic this is. Michael hates the fact he’s a predator. Yes, he’s a monster. Of course he is. He needs to eat people in order to function. How is that not freakish?

This kid, William, isn’t a monster. He’s not a freak. He’s just a kid who doesn’t know who he is. Not yet. He’s just… scared. Scared like him.

God, Mike hates himself. He bites his lip and takes a breath.

“Like I said, unique. It makes you special. You’re not like the other kids. You’re cool, cooler than they’ll ever be.”

William’s eyes stare at the older boy, intently watching with an innocence in his eyes that Michael’s never seen out of his father.

“Special…? Really?” William repeats the words, wondering just how this can make him special. “I’m special. We’re special.”

It’s almost like he’s trying to convince himself of the truth. The words are just beyond his reach, but he’s desperately trying to reach out to them.

“Oh, um… Mister, you never told me your name.” William’s smile is heard through his voice. You wouldn’t need to see him in order to know how happy he is to be told something positive about himself.

“Oh? It’s… Mike, William. Call me Mike.”

“You’re special, Mike.”

The older boy gently gasps with surprise.

#vore pizza adventures #forage writes #vore mention #size on the side #sots #just a little drabble #with my au with medli / wonderful-bellies!

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