#also were the downstairs neighbours sleeping or were they all gotten rid of
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One thing I really love but that really kills me about the murderous rampage sequence is that I have litteraly so many questions about it that will go unanswered. Like I get that's the whole point but where was Mrs. Eom while the boys massacred Jongwoo and his friend? Was Moonjo just cheering in the background while Jongwoo got rid of the other residents? Where were the others while Jongwoo killed them one by one, like were Mrs. Eom and the twin just taking a nap before getting killed? I like to imagine that during each murder, the people that aren't getting killed are in a room playing red light green light or something
#strangers from hell#hell is other people#yoon jongwoo#seo moonjo#mrs. eom#no but honestly i can imagine moonjo just taking pics of jongwoo like 'you're doing great honey đ'#also were the downstairs neighbours sleeping or were they all gotten rid of#actually those downstairs neighbours probably just survived by minding their business#oh yeah that's just the creepy landlady going with a tupperware of meat in the basement. nothing shady here#this is why i believe in a third version of the murderous rampage#you're telling me everyone is minding their own business till they get killed? playing cards?#the lack of moonjo in the whole 'jongwoo killed everyone' scenario makes no sense u know that fucker would be cackling in a corner somewhere
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The Golden Gangster - Part Two
Authors Notes: I have an idea where I want this one to go, and I am hoping I can do it justice in written form.
Summary: The offer you gave to Ivar has been willingly accepted, doing the one thing you wished never to do again. Now that you work for him you are finally seeing the savage he truly is.The problem, youâre starting to enjoy yourself.
Warnings: Torture, some minor gore, background check reveals assault, sexual abuse (no graphic info), drugs and drink driving (nothing explicit) - if you feel there should be other warnings please do let me know.
Part One
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Shutting your front door behind you, you leant back against it and let out a shuddering breath. You seemed to have been holding it in the whole drive home. He had been intrigued by what you had offered him, what's more he had accepted it. He had wanted you to prove your skills, gain him more wealth. He was surprised when you refused, so had you to tell the truth. He found it cute that you didn't want to take from "innocent" people, that the only people you would take from were those who were greedy and cruel. Much like him. He seemed to become inpatient with that, had asked youÂ
"What if I don't accept that rule?"
Your palms were sweating at the thought of your response. In that moment you had thought about your ma' and all the other countless people who had suffered because of a family members fuck ups.
"Then the next time your men show up at my door, they wont return in the same condition."
Your words had been cool, meant to surprise. If anything his eyes had burned more brightly, like the idea of you causing someone pain aroused him some how. Shuddering you rubbed your arms, trying to warm yourself from the cold that had seeped into your soul. Bolting the door, you moved upstairs to run a hot bath.Â
Slipping into its hot contents, you shut your eyes enjoying the warmth and comfort it gave you. Never in a million years did you think you would be back doing this again. Hacking.
When you had first been caught, you had only been fifteen years old. You had always had a knack with computers. It originally started as fixing them, then coding, then... you canât actually remember how it had come about. You just knew you wanted to teach someone a lesson. Your headmaster to be exact. He had been a sly and arrogant man. You had hated the way he leered at girls, the way he spoke openly of seducing younger women. Knowing he had a wife at home. You had seen his wife once, she had had a black eye. You had stripped him of all his money, all his properties and valuables. Passed it all to his wife. You had then put put his letter of confession and resignation to the school and police. The money he had laundered through the school, the abuse he had bestowed upon his wife. You had enjoyed watching his downfall, the look of fear upon his face as he was carted away.
A shrill tone brought you back to the present. Glancing over to the side you saw your mobile had flashed up with a text message. Quickly drying your hands you reached for it, opening the message.
â(Y/N), meet me tomorrow at 1pm at Bjornâs Bar. Ivar.â
Your blood ran cold. He had said he would contact you once he had a job he needed doing. How had he got one so fast. You could just not turn up, but then he would torment your mother for your failings. Your hands shook slightly as you replied.
You was in the big game now.
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You woke the next morning, blurry eyed and feeling heavy from the lack of sleep. Even though you had been exhausted, it had taken hours for the sweet bliss of sleep to come. Pulling yourself from your bed, you made your way to the kitchen making yourself a coffee and toast.Â
Youâd just sat down when a loud knock came from your door.
âNow what.âÂ
Pulling the door open you found yourself face to face with Ivar. A slow smile spread across his face,
âGood Morning (Y/N), itâs nice to see... so much of you this morning.â
Flushing bright red you stepped behind the door a little, anger running through you.
âWhat the bloody hell do you think youâre doing here!â Shrugging a little, he moved over the threshold looking around your living room.
âMy morning meeting finished early, so I decided to come to you instead.â
Glaring at his cronies, you shut the door in their face. You didnât need them leering at you too. Turning back round, Ivar had settled himself in your armchair.
âDid you not think it polite to call first!âÂ
Tilting his head a little his gaze ran up the length of your legs, stopping at the white cotton shorts that barely covered your modesty.Â
âWell... yes maybe. But if this is what I can expect...â Reaching out he brushed one of his fingers against your thigh and grinned.â
âI rather like being impolite.â
Slapping his hand away, you moved to the stairs.
âAs you canât be a grown up, Iâm going to get dressed.â
âI will wait here then little dove.âÂ
Turning you felt his gaze on you as you took the stairs two at a time.
When you returned downstairs, Ivar was no where to be seen. Panicking you rushed round to the kitchen and then to the garden. You found him walking round your rose bushes.
âEnjoying yourself?â You had a moment of odd feeling as he turned to face you. The sun glinted off of his dark hair, his eyes lightening brighter than usual.
âYes I am... youâve done well with a limited amount of space.â You frowned at him,
âThanks. I did have something better but you took it when my father owed you money.â You saw, with satisfaction, that he looked annoyed.
âWell, I needed to get paid.â Folding your arms you glared at him.
âWhat do you want Ivar. You sure as shit didnât stop by here to admire my garden.âÂ
Sighing, he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper.
âI need you to find this guy for me, he has now been avoiding me for two weeks.â Raising your eyebrows you muttered under your breath,
âI canât imagine why.â
Reaching out he grabbed your wrist.
âHe owes me, and if he doesnât pay up I will take it in other ways.â
Wrenching your arm from his grip you stepped back.
âYou promised me you wouldnât take it out on innocent people.â
He shrugged, leaning more on his cane.
âAnd Iâm not, the only people who come to me are arrogant and selfish. So... can you find him or not?â
Taking a breath you glanced down. You didnât want to help him, but if it prevented him from harassing your maâ then you would find anyone he needed.
âIâll find him.â
His smile was slow,
âOnce you have found him, come to the hotel. We can discuss your work load further then.â Before you could answer him, his phone rang.
Looking down at the caller ID, he nodded.
âI shall see you later, at the hotel.â With that he walked back through your house, answering his call as he did. You heard the front door close, and you was left alone. The feeling of dread, fear and excitement a hurricane of emotion coursing through you.
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You spent the best part of the day hunting this guy down. The more you found out about him, the more your skin crawled. He had been the centre in a number of complaints from women working within his offices. He had been let off on multiple drug charges, drink driving, assault and many other offences. You felt sick reading everything he had gotten away with. But due to his obsession with fine dining, drugs, fast cars and hookers his vast inheritance had been greatly depleted. You had also found pictures of the women he had assaulted, claiming that they had âwanted itâ. Some of the pictures were of girls who werenât old enough to be classed as âwomenâ. Your stomach churned, nausea rising fast.
Pulling all the information you could, you loaded it onto a USB and placed it in your bag. You wanted to scrape this mans life issues and worthlessness from your skin. You felt dirty just reading what he had done. Picking up your phone you punched in your maâs number, and waited for her to answer.
Speaking with her had always made you feel better, hearing her voice, the little noises that sounded as she pottered about the house, baking or putting the washing away. What ever was spoken about, you always felt content and relaxed afterwards. You spoke in length with your ma that afternoon. She told you about a new cake recipe that she had found in her favourite magazine, and how her next door neighbour had just repotted their garden. You felt your sickness drain away. You told her that you would take her out at the weekend to get new garden supplies, as well as plants to pot. After a while, you hung up the phone sending love and promises of seeing her soon. You hadnât really noticed the time, not until a message pinged through onto your phone.
Message: -Â
(Y/N), I am hoping that you are currently on your way, but have been way laid by traffic. I would like it if I didnât have to send out a search party for you - Ivar
Your blood boiled. He had made this message seem like he was worried as to your safety. But instead it held an aggressive tone, that if you did not reply or bring him what he needed he would find you himself. Pulling in a deep breath you glanced at your bag where you had put the USB. Grabbing it and your keys you headed to your car, teeth gritted in fury. Speeding your way to the Goldenview, you fired off one text back.
Message: -Â
Iâm coming.
Parking your car, you headed to the lobby entrance where you found two of Ivarâs men waiting.
âTake me to him.â
You didnât wait for them to respond, you just headed to the elevator punching the button for the highest floor. Both men entered, standing either side of you like sentries as you was gradually taken higher and higher, entering the realm of the Gods. As soon as the door dinged open, you stepped out striding towards Ivar who was currently looking out over the city. Reaching his side you slapped the USB into his chest glaring at him.
âI wasnât way laid my lord. I merely wanted to enjoy a few hours peace. I needed it to get rid of the vile dirt that sat upon my persons after reading up on your man.â Your fingers trembled, you wanted to slap him as a smirk crossed his handsome face.
âI was worried about you, my lady.â Glancing down at the USB, he held it out to one of his men. Taking it, the bigger man walked to a laptop and placed the drive in, pulling up all the information you had gained. Ivarâs gaze never left yours, even as you bared your teeth to him.Â
âMr Ragnarson, we have him sir.â
âPerfect.â Gently touching your chin he winked at you.
âWait for me here (Y/N), I will be back shortly.â Turning he went to leave, picking up his black suit jacket as we went. Blanching, you dropped your bag storming up behind him,
âIâm not some dog you can command, and I am not one of your brainless lackeys.â It surprised you at how quickly he turned to face you, causing you to step back slightly.
âI would like you to wait here, as I would like to reward you for your work.â Smiling slightly he stepped into the elevator, pulling on his jacket as the door closed behind him. Staring dumb founded, you became aware of one of Ivarâs men standing at one of the doors leading off of the main room.
âMr Ragnarson wanted to ensure you were comfortable Miss (Y/L/N).â Opening the door he held it open for you. Walking over you looked inside. The floor was a plush navy blue carpet. the walls a soft cream with small paintings decorating them. A vast sofa sat in the middle of the room, the same navy as the carpet. A table of food sat in one corner with a bottle of champagne on ice. The room was lit by a gentle crackling fire, soft jazz came from a record player. Stepping inside, you felt the world disappear behind you. The noise of the city faded away, the smell of the food invading your mind. You didnât hear the door close behind you.
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Youâre not sure how long you stayed in the room for. Could have been minutes, it could have been days. You had taken your shoes off, feeling your toes sink into the thick carpet. You sighed in bliss at the feel of it. Looking over the table you saw that the food was a selection of meats and cheeses, fresh fruits and breads.
âMay as well make myself comfortable.â you muttered to yourself.
Placing some food on a plate and pouring a glass of champagne, you moved to sit on the sofa slowly relaxing into its soft confines. You could feel the weight of the day slowly slipping away from your mind and shoulders. The food tasted amazing, the fruits sweet and tart, the bread was still warm, the meats and cheeses full of flavour. You managed to eat three full plates before you began to feel the gentle tug of sleep pulling at your eyes.
You woke some time later to a shrill scream. Sitting up quickly you glanced around you forgetting for a moment where you was. The fire had died down now, its soft glow ebbing gently. The scream came again, it was an ear splitting scream. One of pain. You could hear low mumblings, and racked, dry sobs. Glancing around you looked for your bag.
âShit.â
You had left it in the other room when you first came to see Ivar. Looking at the table you saw a sharp knife sitting on the cheese board. Snatching it up, you walked to the door to listen, your footfalls muffled by the thick carpet. The voices you heard were deep, low things. It surprised you though that you could hear someone laughing. A soft laugh that chilled your flesh. Gently tugging open the door, you looked out to see what was going on. There wasnât anyone in the main room, but it seemed to be coming from a room opposite. Slowly stepping out, you glanced around to find the main room empty. Moving swiftly to the other room, you leant against the wall and looked around the partially open door. What you saw inside, made the food you had eaten churn and climb up your throat.
âOh gods.â Had you spoken that allowed? Stumbling away you held your hand to your mouth.
â(Y/N)? Please... come join me a moment.â Ivarâs voice drifted out from the room you tried to run from, but he had heard you. Slowly turning you walked back to the door glancing inside. There on a chair sat the man you had hunted down for Ivar. Hunted down. You had found the information and handed it to Ivar, sentencing this man to certain death... by the looks of it. You felt a twinge of sympathy for the man. NO! You couldnât feel sorry for him, not after what you had found out about him. You forced yourself to look at him, really look at him.
His face was bloody, his shirt in tatters. He had fingers missing from his left hand. One of his legs was broken, the other had the kneecap missing. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his cheek was split open, the corner of his mouth and been sliced causing the split to run outwards. Creating a macabre smile, painted in blood.
â(Y/N), Iâm sorry you had to see this.â You looked at the man who was standing next to the bloody mess. He was scratching the side of his head with a blade, his face and hands were covered in blood. His shirt sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, the material soaked through in red. Your breath caught in your chest, a slow burn forming in your stomach.
âIvar.â
His smile was wide, his white teeth glinting through the red. His eyes shone brightest blue, causing you to become entranced by them. Even though the scene in front of you was a brutal, and ugly thing to see. You couldnât help but find yourself being pulled towards Ivar. The way he looked. The man made torture look like a GQ photoshoot.Â
âPlease... help me... please... heâs... heâs mad.âÂ
Your gaze was pulled from Ivar, to the man in the chair. Tears and snot smeared his already stained face. He seemed to think you would be the one to help him. Help. Your mind flashed back to the image of the young girl he had beaten and assaulted. How she must have begged for help, begged him to stop. Stepping in closer, you moved to stand in front of him.
âHelp you? Help, you?!â Raising your hand you pressed the knife you held into his chin. Your voice shook as you spoke.
âHow many times did those young girls beg you to stop... beg you to help them?â He snivelled loudly,
âI... Iâm sorry... I need help I... Iâm sorry... please...p..please just let me go.â A loud ringing seemed to fill your ears. All you could see was the times your ma had sobbed because everything she worked for had been taken. Taken because a selfish man thought it his right to take what wasnât his. A selfish man, just like this one. You realised that a calm had washed over you, a cold, unrelenting calm. How many times had you dreamed of doing this to the man that had ruined your life, your maâs life.
âNo... no I donât think so. You see, men like you donât deserve help. What you need... is to be taught a lesson.â Jerking your hand to the side, you created a deep cut along his jaw bone. Blood spurted out, flecking your hands. From somewhere behind you, you heard Ivar move, his voice murmuring out quietly. But still you heard it. Just one word.
âBeautiful.â
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Part Three Coming Soon.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. If you would like to be tagged do let me know.
Tags: @queenmissfit @hallowed-heathen @crazyandanonymous4u @november7378Â
#ivar imagine#ivar x reader#ivar lothbrok#ivar#ivar ragnarson#ivar's heathen army#modern ivar#ivar fanfic#ivar fanfiction#ivar x you#vikings imagine#vikings fanfic#vikings ivar#vikings fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic
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*~ Believe in Magic ~* (ch.1)
- 1 - Lavender-less Potions. Salem-less Times.
ââ
Harry is just a shy witch he's doing all his magic in a back room, or any room, at his beaten up apartment in the old complex, though his flat actually looks amazing on the inside. He has lived there for ages. Literal ages. He has a black cat, Salem, magical as well, of course, that loves getting in trouble almost as much as he loves getting Harry in trouble.
Mostly, Salem is sneaky. Goes on a hunt one day and doesnât come back till the next day. Or goes around doing his thing and then Harry gets a knock on the door about how Salem did this or the other, all of it without Harry noticing. He just likes to stroll about town and have a good time. And thatâs fine until one day, Salem realises that he doesnât know where heâs at, and his magic doesnât have the same reach while heâs far from Harry. He looks like a stray cat, and heâs new to this neighbourhood. Ultimately, Salem is fucked. Left to walk in any direction until he feels Harry near enough for him to try to get back to him.
Harry isnât completely used to Salem after the time he spent alone with no where to live but his old apartment, after Frisk died. In fact he was just getting used to Salem being a trouble maker and a witty cat. Despite making it 5 years in the building, all Salem continued to do was either get himself in trouble or get Harry in trouble, so, on that day, unfortunately for Salem, Harry had yet to fully notice his absence.
Thereâs a knock at Harryâs door and itâs weird. Normally no one knocks. He doesnât have much interaction with the people in this building and who ever might visit him, wouldnât just knock. Theyâd phase through the wall, and always sending him a warning that they were coming beforehand, and not this unexpected knock that startles him while he mixes in some raspberry into his potion. He was just practicing, trying different ways to get his sleeping potion to look and taste like tea.
He hides his âlabâ with a small spell, to open the door revealing his neighbour. Itâs the cute girl that moved in about 5 months ago and with which Harry hadnât had much interaction with either. Sheâs nice and bubbly, he knows this, he can hear her at night and when she comes by in the afternoon. He has to admit he has seen her and paid a smudge of attention to the soft looking girl with big brown eyes and round button nose and teeth that line perfectly until the small crooked one that keeps her smile real and not tv commercial fake perfect, which was something harry had immediately liked. But that was it. He hadnât really snooped or paid any more attention to this girl after that day when she arrived. Maybe he knew she came around in the afternoon after work or college in the morning, only to spend around two to three hours in her flat down the hall from his, and then leaving, for either college or work, until around 8pm.
Harry wouldnât have any problems talking to her, had he gotten the chance before. She seemed ok and he knew she was nice and perky, which was exactly why he didnât really seek her out. She was spry and bubbly, maybe a bit too much for him. Heâs not a douchey witch, heâs just a bit tired of humans, both mortal interaction, and human behaviour, sometimes got the best of him, specially after having to deal with the same kind of people for over 80 years.
She stands there with a nice dress thatâs a bit too lacking in fabric for the weather outside, but Harry refrains from paying any more than needed attention to the outfit she sports. Instead focusing on the black cat in her arms. Harryâs mouth turns into an O shape. â Hey, I think this is your cat?â â Oh, lordâ Harry turns around quickly to look at his flat. No signs of Salem anywhere. When did he? The sneaky bastard. Harry rolls his eyes quickly and switches back to the girl, taking Salem from her hands. âuh⊠Thanks for⊠Bringing him backâ The thing is humans are all the same, yet so different, leaving Harry with little to no human interaction skills. His feet carry him to the kitchen where he sets Salem on the countertop. Heâs about to give him a downright scolding. Sneaking like that. Only getting him into so much trouble. What if someone saw Salem talking? Or his shiny eyes as he pulled another prank on the old lady downstairs. â Uhm. Kay. Thanksâ is all Harry can say in his quick haste to get rid of the girl at his front door that was so kind to bring back his cat. But his small hiding spell is about to run out and sheâs still all prying eyes into his flat. He panics slightly, closing the door.
Sheâs left to frown at the weird guy living in apartment 5F, and she could have sworn he had closed the door with his mind, as he was too far to have reached with his extended arm. She shrugs off the weird notion and the weird neighbour and picks back up on her way to her flat.
Inside, Harry sighs as his cauldron comes back to view and itâs basically over boiling. He rushes to set down the flames. Traditional potion making is such a hassle. Heâs a bit mad at the interruption but glad that someone found Salem before Salem exposed himself, costing both their statuses. â Salem,â he says and comes to level with his cat. Salem looks at him innocently. âwhy were you at the neighbours?â but Salem is quiet. Heâs sighing under his breath, Salem is going to be like that then⊠Harryâs about to cast a small spell that will put Salem upside down for an hour, something he knows the cat hates, when he hears a small mewl. Harryâs face is shocked and he snaps in the direction of the black animal. Was that aâŠ? There it is again, the small meow⊠The typical sound of⊠a normal cat. Harryâs eyes switch colours, from his usual shiny green, to a menacing gold, as he levels once more with the cat whoâs now obviously not Salem. Words of a spell leave his mouths as he now focuses on talking to this normal cat. The poor thing is scared, and most importantly, a female cat. Not at all Salem. The cat is confused, not knowing what to do or where to go, not knowing where itâs at, as it cowers away from Harryâs stare. â Donât worry. Itâs safe hereâ Harry reassures the kitten. âIâll find you a good homeâ he sighs as the cat jumps in his arms and he removes the spell, eyes back to normal and kitchen smelling like rotten raspberries.
So Harry does what first comes to mind and takes this cat, over to the lovely neighbour at the end of the hall, looking at the big 5A and a small silicone removable sticker of a pumpkin sheâs plastered on the wooden door.
Sheâs startled. She hasnât really made friends with anyone while sheâs been here. Sheâs probably the youngest in the building, not that she would have any problems talking and befriending the nice old ladies from 6A through 6C, and the doorman always knows her delivery orders and sets aside her mail for when she leaves in the morning, and she brings him his favourite coffee when she comes back before heâs gone on the shift switch, but thatâs not really enough to consider a friendship. The only other person who could might have the same interests as her and maybe would go out with her to have fun, catch a movie, or just hang out at her apartment, is the tall, english major looking dude in 5F. Heâs got to be around her age. Oh how wrong she was.
Sheâs surprised to see him, the guy from 5F, holding his cat in his arms. She had found the cat walking left and right outside by the dumpsters of the complex, and immediately recognised it as her neighbourâs cat, the one she had seen multiple times run down the hall and come up and down the stairs, only to make a sharp turn and rush back into the ladâs apartment by the small dog-opening. Funny that a cat went in through that, but functional she supposes. She never thought the kitty would be ok with her approaching it, but the little black ball of fur let itself be carried by her with no problem, allowing her to give it back to its rightful owner.
She looks at the curly headed man in front of her and gives him a warm smile. Maybe heâs there to properly thank her for finding his pretty cat, after all he was a bit rude when she brought him back. â Hey, uhm. This isnât my catâ are the words that escape his lips and she frowns in shock. What does he mean? How can that not be his cat, itâs identical. The crazy thought that maybe itâs his catâs twin passes through her brain, but sheâs quick to swallow it, stowing it away to laugh at later by herself. She stutters and Harryâs a bit annoyed, overall concerned over the fact that this was not Salem, neither was it a trick by Salem with a decoy cat. And then the young neighbour is opening her door wider and asking him to please come in. Harry hesitates. Heâs awkward around humans as it is. And now sheâs inviting him in after he was a bit rude to her and when heâs had no previous mental preparation for any human interaction longer than needed. His palms are sweaty. Maybe itâs cause sheâs wearing the cutest pijama bottoms heâs seen, they look soft and they end above her knee, allowing him a quick look at her legs up-close. And her socks have little cherries on them, matching the pants. No. Thatâs definitely not it. Maybe his palms are sweaty because heâs rusty in human interaction. Heâs really rusty. Thatâs it.
He puts one foot in front of the other, slowly coming in, the small cat meowing and purring.
Her flat is nice. Thereâs not much in it. Harry sniffles a bit after walking in. Minimal looking couch, a small tv, and a large bookshelf. Also some nice art decorating her walls, and the rug⊠The rug looks soft. Harry kind of wants to remove his boots and socks and just stand on it and feel the material under his toes. Wiggle them. Also her walls are a very light beige. Almost white, with an accent wall painted blue right before you enter the kitchen. Harry doesnât know much about her, other than what heâs gathered from quietly listening in through the walls or peeking through his blinds, but immediately this flat screams âHERâ so much. Harry sniffles.
â Have a seat, would you like a cuppa?â She asks politely and Harry declines. Though he would love a cuppa, right now he would like to escape as quickly as possible. â No⊠thanksâŠâ Harry bounces on the balls of his feet and sniffles. âSo. This isnât⊠Salemâ Harry grimaces. The stupid name of his cat is so obvious. But all she seems to do is smile and pour him a cuppa anyways. â How do you know?â she asks and Harry opens his mouth. For starters itâs a female cat. Secondly⊠It doesnât talk and it wonât do any magic⊠Just saying itâs a female cat will do, right? Itâs also missing the small collar Harry had donned Salem, just human formalities, so Salem did look like a real cat, with a real owner. And just in case they ever needed or had to be apart, Salem could let any witch know where he belonged. But sheâs quick to continue talking âOh jesus, Y/N youâre dumb. Of course you know itâs not your cat. Itâs your cat for heavenâs sake.â She slaps a hand to her forehead, as if scolding herself, though Harry can only think âY/N⊠Fitting nameâ, as he sniffles once more. His nose a bit runny. Probably the cold air outside. â Iâm Harry, by the way.â he feels awkward not introducing himself so he drops it slightly. Sheâs quick to catch it as she sips her tea and pets the small catâs head âSo.. Uhm⊠This isnât my catâŠâ Great Harry, you already said that. âThis is a girl. Salemâs a boy. And the collarâŠâ his voice trails off. The collar only works with other witches and magical creatures. Note to self, Harry, buy Salem an actual human world collar. âI was wonderingâŠâ Heâs quick to continue, before she can ask much about the collar. Thought why would she⊠itâs only normal for a pet to have a⊠Ah, fuck sake Harry youâre getting yourself in even worse shit. âW-would you be willing to⊠keep this⊠ca- At-cHOO!â âOh, bless you!â she says in her sweet voice. Y/N is quick to hand him a napkin and take the small cat from his arms. Of course she would be willing to keep this cat. She would need to buy food and a bed and a lot of cat related stuff, and sheâs never had a cat before, ever in her life, having always been more of a fish person. But sheâs up for it. Sheâs about to tell him just that when â At-chhOOO!â â Lord, bless youâ â Do⊠do you⊠at-CHOO!â Harry canât talk. Thereâs something tingling his nose, making goosebumps rise and tickling his throat, as he canât hold in the next sneeze, and the next, and the next. His eyes become glossy and red as he stumbles about, covering his face with the napkin she provided and breathing harshly. He can now fully sense it. âLaven- at-CHOO!â âPardon me?â â Iâm allergic to-to⊠Lavender ah⊠AH-â the sneeze doesnât come out, leaving Harry with tingles on the tip of his nose. Y/N gasps and takes the napkin form his hand. Lavender is her favourite. She buys lavender scented napkins, and lavender scented detergent, and she sprays her bathroom with lavender, left and right. In conclusion, this flat is just an allergy bomb waiting to explode for Harry. He avoids lavender at all costs, itâs unfortunate, for itâs sometimes an essential part of many potions, but he just has Salem drop them in the cauldron and heâs glad it doesnât cause any rash or something when he takes a sip of the potions, just the smell of it makes his eyes water, throat burn a slight bit and âat-cHOO!â â Jesus! Harry, leave right now! Oh my godâ Y/Nâs freaking out, pushing him out of her flat and quickly shutting the door behind him. She quickly makes a mental note to eliminate all lavender items from her house, that is if she ever wants Harry to come back around. Wait⊠Does she?
ââ
Witch!Harry has started. I have to admit Iâm not as sure about this as I was before. Let me know? Chapter 2 : Coming Monday, January 16th. #BIM tag. Intro Here. Schedule Here.
Ch.2 here
ââ
Also: Inspo: Can I just say Harry sneezing is the cutest thing? I mean Iâm sorry cause it means heâs sick but... awwwww look at it. LOOK AT IT.
ââ Iv. xo
#bim#believe in magic#harry believe in magic#short fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#a short fic#by me#stylessemantics#my writing#YOF#stylessemanticsYOF#witch!harry#AU!harry#lavender-less potions salem-less times#salem#harry and Salem the cat#sneeze
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