#exile chatter
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exileandtrust · 2 months ago
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Hello.
Handprints wouldn't let me go and write anything else, so I'd like to finish it. For real this time. It will be slow, and it will take time to get my writing chops back. I may also rewrite sections of it before re-uploading, I haven't decided yet.
My husband, Mr. Exile, made me promise one thing though: I have to have fun while doing this. So that's what my aim is going to be. Take it slow.
I wanted to say thanks for remembering it, thanks for remembering me, and I hope I can give you all the ending you deserve.
Thank you for reading.
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my-little-versaille · 7 months ago
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THE INHERENT HORROR OF LONELINESS ; DREAD ; DEATH - An Exile!Tommy Webweave
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transcribed by @daggryet / Neekwe (flikr) / Dead Girls - Penelope Scott / evanmcgaming (youtube) / evanmcgaming (youtube) / All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands - Sufjan Stevens / Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light, Richard Siken / unknown / transcribed by @daggryet / @clingyduofan / @bugflies00 / unknown / Sacrifice, Bilal Al-Shams / TubboLive (Twitch/Youtube) / Prologue - Chase Petra / God is made of hunger and I am made of dreams - Katie Maria / Morning Bell - Radiohead / Tommyinnit (Twitch/Youtube) / @lotusmusings / Not Strong Enough - boygenius / The Selected Plays of Hélène Cixous: "The Perjured City" - Hélène Cixous / Needed a Change of Pace - Jhariah / evanmcgaming (youtube) / Ferryman - Shayfer James, Will Wood
GIFT FOR @cryingtulips
Okay SO this is technically 1 of 2 gifts i have for you, but this is going to be the one that'll be completed in time for the event for sure. Here you go! Chommy exile webweave :3
@mcythorrorgiftexchange
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jinjjayo · 2 months ago
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i have been released!!!!
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green-thunder1 · 6 months ago
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Do you ever read such a bad fic and just go "congratulations! You managed to get every single detail about this man wrong!" Because I sure as hell have
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damienthepious · 7 months ago
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why the absolute fuck isn't The Harp In The Hallows* an internationally known franchise with a massive fandom i can talk about the whole mess with**. what the fuck
*the hyperspecific hyperlocal larp my fiance gms for our group of 8 or so people
**which isn't to say that im not feral and frothing with the three close friends i've infected with fandom for my hyperspecific hyperlocal thing
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mekanikaltrifle · 1 year ago
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I have a mental playlist titled 'Songs For an AMV Where Dom Throws Radma Through a Table' and I think about it monthly. It so far has like 2 or 3 songs. (i need to find more songs for Dom to throw Radma through a table to)
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skyrigel · 4 months ago
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“Exile”
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Pairing: Cregan Stark x exiled!Reader
Hotd masterlist
You had no name, no home, no where you belonged. But Cregan doesn't think so, he thinks you belong to him, maybe you do.
Warning: Angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, inappropriate language, fluff [ wc: 1.9k ]
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
You watched the snow flakes fall, like crushed sugar taking refuge on your lashes, soft and cold.
The girls had ofcourse abandoned sewing and started whispering to each other, and like always you were excluded, not that it concerned you, exiled.
Their ohhhs and ahhhs weren't quiet enough, you kept your head low and mouth tight, smearing your thumb in the insides of your hand.
That's where Cregan was standing, when you first met.
His face was cold and distant, watching as you were brought between these walls, stripped from your name, all titles, no honour to serve, no virtue to entact, just nameless exile, a no-one, truly pathetic.
You thought he wouldn't speak, the way he moved, his shoulders were always tense, like something physically was burdening him, and you weren't going to start with his frown—not that it was your concern but it wouldn't kill him to smile, he might look good if he smiled. And how coldly he spoke, you almost ran opposite of him during those first times.
Ofcourse he was good looking, very, what you were even playing at ? All the girl you were forced to indulge with talked of nothing but him, the noble ones were shy, only smiling under their breaths and blushing bright crimson while common court girls had wide mouths and broad imaginations, also filth —they spoke so much of the young wolf like they knew anything — they didn't, nothing at all.
Have you seen his ribs ?
he's...she beamed pink...very big. Yes bitch.
He's got so much there, chuckle, no, you haven't seen Martha, I have — Liar— And his mouth, ohhhh.
And he's wild like a wolf, just last night—No, he wasn't with you.
“Stop!”
All the girls snapped their head at you in union, some actually scared that it was Septa, some had mean, annoying frowns knitting on their dull, red faces.
“ What's with you ?” one of them said, She was the one who was boasting about her ‘wolf bite', a very angry bruise at the side of her neck, it looked more like hive. Bitch.
“ Don't...” You gulped, “ ...stop spreading rumours...you all..you never really—” It was shameful, you couldn't talk, what would you tell them, that they don't know how it feels to be the one Cregan's arm, how it felt to be kissed by those lips, and to feel his heat creeping up your spine, how it felt to be his lover, no they didn't, none at all. lying whores.
“ She's gone insane.” One shrieked, covering her high pitched screeching of a laughter and other's joined for a snicker.
“ She's just jealous because she's too ugly to be his whore.”
Fuck you. You didn't if you said it or not.
“Aww, you nameless slut.”
Oh.
And you would've said something, but your throat was rigid, your cheeks burnt with shame and all you saw was girls with name, girls with father's and mother's, girls with futures and husbands and children, girls with home and prospects and life.
Then you looked down at your hands, beaten up with hard labour and prickled needles, a sense of reality washed like waves over you.
The kind of waves that brought you to winterfell, your mother's necklace was taken first, a ruby, exiles don't have the luxury.
“ You're no one's daughter, you have no name, no home, no noble blood. You don't belong and don't matter, do you understand ?”
No
“ Yes.”
And during those days in water, you thought what it meant, name wasn't a physical concept, it can't be stripped and yet it was —
“ Aye, girl ! ” that's what you'd become now, a girl, a girl who's no one.
But, you fought back the tears, turning your back to the chatter of giggles, nameless whore... pathetic, isn't she ?... Your eyes were brimming with tears and your vision was blurring, you just ran, wherever your flight took you, just far, far, far.
“ Ow —ouch.” You squealed, bumping against a hard except walls didn't have hands to steady you and wall didn't speak.
“ You should be care— Are you crying? ” Cregan said, he had that sweet way of talking to you, it's an inside joke.
“ Are you...are you scared of me ?” Cregan said, his mouth twitched in concern —worrying.
“ Oh...I..no..m'lord.” You bowed, feeling your cheeks flush, you realised how poor your attempts have been to avoid Cregan, only landing you to him personally seeking you out.
“ Cregan.” He said, noticing you wide blown eyes, “ Call me just Cregan. If you don't mind, lady Y/n ”
A pause. It's been a while you heard your name said so beautiful, each syllable, each sound resonating like waves rippling through water, a soft music, you couldn't believe it was something that was yours, that it belonged to you.
“ I am an exile.”
“ You never answered my question? Have i done something to offend you ? ”
You looked up at him, feeling your heart spiral in a lavender haze.
“ You, m'lord —” Cregan frowned, “ Cregan. You are...I..you speak coldly.”
“ Right.”
“ I shouldn't have said that.” You said it, panic seizing you but... was it...oh, he's smiling, Cregan Stark is smiling like a fool and it's so bright that you feel your skin melting, your bloody boiling and your mouth too dry.
“ Thanks, i think you wouldn't avoid me now.” He said, like a different person, his jaw was loose, his eyes were crinkling, his words were carrying warmth and sweetness.
“ I am not.” you sniffed, but he already had your wirsts in his grip, holding them like you were guilty. Maybe.
“ Tell me Y/n.” He urged, he leaned to inspect you, a tear fell down your eye, gathering at the tip of your chin.
“ It's nothing, really Cregan, nothing at all.” you tried to smile, it could've worked with anyone but Cregan knew your bones better than you, he frowned and if times were different, you would've kissed it away, whoosh.
“ Tell me darling, it would pain me if I couldn't take away your misery.” His eyes deepened in yours, brushing your cheeks and you leaned into his palm, “ I don't want to see you, I don't..fuck — it hurts me.”
“ I don't want to hurt you.” You said, loving him was like an itch, a never ending torment, craving him was stopping the itch only to realise you'd ripped off your skin, like that.
It began with you ducking around him in halls, turning away from him at every point because he just intimidated you, the way he looked, like he knew, like he could read everything that ran in and out your brain, it scared you, the power, the chaos.
Then something changed, whenever you were alone you found yourself with him, telling him about home, no longer home, praying and praying, and he watched, sometimes he joined too, kneeling beside you, shoulders touching, eyes closed and in those moments you drifted into a dream, in your dream you were getting married, you had dreams like this before but now the man had a face, a truly beautiful face, and you were saying your vows, you let yourself smile at those ridiculous sweet nothings, ofcourse no, you stupid, stupid girl, no.
And you loved talking to him because he listened, everything and nothing and he made no noise, nodding and smiling along, sometimes he would lean to your side, sometimes taking your hand and guiding to his hair while he laid in your lap, looking up to with stars in his eyes, and then one day war came and duty called.
“ I will come back to you.” sweet, he said it so sweetly that you could've died.
“ I know.” and maybe it was love that rippled the thought of parting, because love was afterall grief preserving, your breath hitched and you hesitated only a moment, a bare second before you reached on your tip toes, joining your lips to him, for a man who was ice, his lips were warm like fire, soft and warm.
You blushed when you heard grabbed your face, pulling back and looked into your eyes, a grin, almost spilling out of his mouth.
“ I will come to back to you.” and he kissed you again, kissing Cregan was like confetti, it's one moment everything is bursting golden and then the ashes settle, he has to leave, for war, but the sparkle never leaves — he'll come back to you.
“ Then tell me, please, let me help you.” Cregan's eyes were pained, his jaw hardening, he would break his face like that.
“ Just girlish tatter, they claim to know, claim that they have with you..you, that they know how it's like kissing you and how it's like bedding you and how —” You didn't realise you were breaking until Cregan swooped you in his arms and gathered your pieces, you were pathetic, and what if it's true, what if they know, it didn't matter, you were no one, no claim, no right, no name, exiled.
“ Oh, my darling...shhh.” He kissed the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you, helping you hold on to him.
“ They are all pathetic liars, all of them...no, they don't and they never will. Only you my baby, only you my lady.”
“ I am sorry...I am being pathetic.” You pressed your wet face into his cloak, somewhere inside his heart was beating, only for you, Cregan had told you very much, when he traced your finger on his chest, there, he would smile, can you feel it ? , He would gleam like a teenage boy, yes, i can, thud-thud-thud, You would lean down to press your ear on his chest, he would spoon you, skin by skin, just two warm bodies and glittering souls, yeah, just for you.
“ No, you're not, my darling. You're not, they are... pathetic and jealous.” He was raging, you knew, but he wouldn't lash out, not now because it would mean he would have to let go of you, not yet.
You smile into his arms, it will be okay, as long as it's like this, you and him, you don't need a name, really — just him, he's your home, he's yours, he's where you belong.
“Okay, okay...now calm down my lord.” You looked up at him, his brooding sulking face, no, they don't deserve it.
“ Huh, What did you say lady y/n ? ” He cocked his head, the corner of his mouth tugging at one end, beautiful.
“ I am an exile.” You said, watching as he shaked his head, wriggling you along as he shaked your waist in a hug-like way.
“ No.” He pecked your lips, “ you're mine.”
Maybe love wasn't just grief preserving, but life blooming like twilight flickered by the horizon, almost blinding but so beautiful.
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throwaway-yandere · 1 year ago
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𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗/𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊 [Yandere Prince!Scaramouche/Reader]
A/n: After reading so many tyrant otome isekai manhwas, I thought I should give writing one a try... This story ended up being a bit more “real”(?) than OI. And I forgot the isekai part LOL. Love this fic a lot because the (L/n) family says the most banger lines. They spitting facts. Anyways, welcome to another throwaway-thursday, enjoy this one, @vennnnn-diagram because... lol.
Unreliable Synopsis: Exiled in Watatsumi island after publishing two anti-colonial novels outside their homeland, the famous reformist writer and physician (L/n) (Y/n) faces several familial deaths— and it all leads back to one man...
Content Warnings/Tags: Yandere themes, mentions of miscarriage (note: this is because this is very loosely based on a real life hero's biography), "lovers" to enemies, angst, character deaths, church corruption, politics, etc. Prioritize your mental health. The fic is meant to be a bit dark. You can listen to this song for the vibes 💖
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"Are you going to Watatsumi Fair, Niwa?"
"Well, of course! The Lector works hard to make sure it's grander each year."
"Our Lector… I hope (L/n) is doing alright. It must be incredibly heartbreaking to lose a newborn son under three hours…"
"Indeed…"
It’s the 19th century and the streets chatter on about the upcoming festival. Seri, mitsuba, yomogi, and shiso— murmurs of food and spices exchanged at the Watatsumi Fair circulated. However, these four wonderful things wouldn't be there without a certain exile transforming the island into a thriving island: Lector (Y/n) (L/n).
Prince Kunikuzushi's most esteemed “rival”.
You were an exemplary philosopher and ophthalmologist who published two novels abroad that reflected Inazuma's social issues and military abuses. Of course, you were born in a noble clan. Only the wealthy can study outside Ritou and attain higher education beyond the basic arithmetic and religion Inazuman Colonizers gatekept your people with. You were slaves.
But these colonizers feared educated colonies would demand rights; hence, after publishing those eye-opening novels, you became Public Enemy #1. Charges against you were not absolved, but Inazumans could not execute you upon arrival. You were not a revolutionary, but a pacifist reformist. You made the government and clergy's behavior known worldwide, hence the military banished you to Watatsumi— another Inazuman colony and barren land. 
Assured that you've done nothing wrong, you stayed in Watatsumi. With nothing but your firm beliefs, your days of exile were your most productive. Using your skills as a physician and some wits on land surveying, you've improved Watatsumi’s quality of life in under 6 months. 
You're far from home with little spare change, yet you provided medicina gratis. With you, you’ve helped open the people’s eyes. 
You lived under the scrutinizing eyes of the Queen, yet you erected streetlights in each dark street. With you, you’ve helped the people see in this dark age. 
And most importantly, you have established Watatsumi's first school.
With you, the people understood the truth of their situation: they had been living under a tyrant’s rule for the past few decades.
And all you asked in return was for the people to help you in your ventures to improve the island's agriculture and spices.
How can the people of Watatsumi not love you for this martyrdom?
“(L/n) is organizing a secret rebellion association planning to overthrow the government”. That was the Queen’s grounds for exile, including false testimonial and documentary evidence. It was obvious that your books were in strong opposition to the current Inazuman Government.
Hence, Archbishop Sangonomiya Umiko was incredibly fond of you.
"I still believe I am innocent of the crime of rebellion, illegal association, and sedition. All I did was publish two novels!" You hummed. "When the Shogun calls for my execution— and she will— do immediately ask for my body. They will likely throw it wherever they please. Worse, Kunikuzushi might use me as his doormat." 
The Archbishop laughed. "I can see that. His Highness does fit that character."
You and Umiko sat far from the festivities. Sangonomiya Umiko was neither friend nor foe. She is the current leader of Watatsumi Island, but she is restricted by the commands of the Queen and her children. Umiko cannot even preach about her true faith, hiding her birthright as the Divine Priestess and instead donning the title foreign title of Archbishop. Even with friendly demeanors, there’s an unmistakable grim air on both your faces.
No passerby would mistake this meeting as a romantic date. You have a wonderful spouse waiting home, appearing as crest-fallen as you do now. 
… But "Spouse" is a rather loose term. You and your partner were forbidden to have a wedding. Prince Kunikuzushi would not allow an exile to marry and no priest would disobey him. Hence, you and your lover decided to merely promise to the God you believe in that you'll remain loyal to one another. That faith and loyalty brought about a prematurely birthed child— who only had three hours to live until his breath was cruelly stripped away…
And historians would attribute your son’s death as a cause for your morbid obsession with your own future execution.
"Kunikuzushi is a personification of what's wrong with the Inazuman Empire," you said casually. "He will be the core of what causes the revolution, not I."
Umiko did not miss the way you addressed the Prince. You spoke without honorifics, an aspect in both Watatsumi and Inazuma's language that is evident in everyday conversations. Most revolutionists emphasize his high station with hatred. You emit those titles and call him by name.
As though it was a habit.
As though you were once friends and more.
"Lector (Y/n), do watch your tongue," she shook her head. "The walls have ears."
"And what if the walls have eyes and ears? They shall see and hear my innocence." You sipped your tea before you snapped your fingers with a grin. "Oh, and do me one last favor. When they'll let me face my executioners, armed with polished guns and a shoveled ground:"
"Only the guilty are shot in the back. Let me face the firing squad and spare my head so that I may die facing the heavens."
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A glimpse of (h/c) hair ran past in the streets of Inazuma City, carrying a child in his arms. The child was injured but otherwise “fine”— as fine as children could be amidst the rains of ashy woods and turbulent fires. The city capital reeked of gunpowder and a nauseating metallic scent. The (h/c) haired man may not have any blood relations to the person whom they’re protecting, nor does he know her name, but he held onto the 8-year-old dearly. 
Despite the chaos that surrounded him, your older brother cannot help but think of one hopeful thought:
With the recent loss of (Y/n)’s son, maybe they’d be willing to adopt this little girl as my new niece? 
But all that ended abruptly when a loud voice resonated throughout the streets.
“DON’T LET A SINGLE ONE OF THEM ESCAPE. NO SURVIVORS!”
Prince Kunikuzushi stood proud in the middle of it all. With calm finesse, he ordered the generals to order their soldiers to kill without a hint of remorse. His eyes were dull. All he knew was that his mother wished for the death of revolutionaries hiding in the capital. Whether these rumors were falsehoods or not, the Queen did not care. Fear is the family’s greatest weapon, bloodshed is nothing to them.
Death is nothing for a mother's puppet like him.
The Prince truly didn't have any care for this war. He's only following orders under the reward that he'll be able to have you. It was the Queen's promise, and she had always been relentless in any pursuit of honor and glory.
In return for his familial services, Queen Ei might consider his proposal. The royal family dreaded the death of their former matriarch, Makoto, and the prince showed no attraction to any of his valid consorts. Should he show loyalty to the end, the Queen will allow him to marry anyone to his liking.
That's why he's putting up with this.
He looked at the horizon, seeing nothing but fire instead of the deep ocean.
Why did Watatsumi have to be so far away?
Why did you have to be a sea away?
As fate would have it, a young soldier spotted the two. A hunt between two red-tagged innocent civilians and a greenhorn murderer commenced. Limping slightly, your brother attempted to push down restaurant chairs and other outside furniture in hopes he’d lose track of them.
The soldier did not know that the person he was tracking was your older brother.
Had he known, he would’ve left him alone.
And as much as fortune favors the bold, it was not on your sibling’s side.
The soldier fired his first reckless shot and hit its target.
Your brother stumbled, holding his stomach. He gasped, coughing as he subconsciously let the child go. But he did not fear for his life, but hers. He knew that the child was asleep on a park bench when the horns rang for danger. She was homeless with nothing but bedclothes and a short makeshift blanket, and now she’ll be forced to witness a traumatizing scene.
Poor child… You must be frightened…
I hope…
Your brother remains adamant that the child must live, even as the barrel of the enemy's rifle is pointed at his chest. A look of stern determination, mixed with fear, can be seen in his eyes as he stands his ground despite the threat of death.
That (Y/n) will raise you right…
“S-Scaramouche’s crown's resplendent band shows no natural light. The ocean's glimmer elucidates more hope than your vile scarlet battalions could ever hope for!!!” Your older brother yelled, weakly hiding the child behind him.
The soldier cocked the barrel against his forehead.
“There is no emprise to plundering, to murder and genocide—” he continued, coughing blood at the corner of his lips. “You will all be remembered in history as those who had foolishly paraded without genius. Death has a more ambrosial scent than a life of servitude under your heels.”
SHOT!!!
“M-Mister?... M-Mister?! MISTER!!!”
The child screamed as your brother fell to the ground. With the remaining humanity the young soldier clung to, he turned a blind eye towards the little one crying silvery tears. Truth be told, the new soldier himself had forgotten what it was he was fighting for. What was the point in this death, this pain, if not to harm both sides? But a good soldier does not question his orders and he leaves the child without a word.
She did not know his name. She did not know his status as a (L/n). She did not know he was the older brother of the famous physician (Y/n) (L/n). She did not know he was a martyr way before his true death.
But she still held his corpse with abandon. His body heat was slowly growing cold. Though her stature was short and small, her tears were heavier than her heart could manage.
(L/n)s may meet horrid ends, but Fate grants you all one last wish.
You all have the privilege of dying whilst facing the heavens, and that is the final honor your brother can carry with him in his passing. 
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“My dear, a letter arrived,” your spouse spoke. “It came from your mother…”
It was deep into the night and you had just fixed yourself up for bed, but you’re not one to turn down letters. Perhaps your old friend from Opera Epiclese had sent you a reply? Igniting the nearby lamp, you lovingly kissed their hand before taking the letter.
“Thank you, love,” you cooed. “I’ll surely be writing a letter back, so why don’t you rest before me? I shall accompany you later.”
Leaving them with a blush, you shut the door behind you. Despite the struggles in your relationship, your love for your gorgeous spouse will never disappear over the unplanned loss of your first child.
Unlike Kunikuzushi’s…
You entered the living room and closed the door behind you. A wise decision, given the contents that were about to crush the little mental stability you had left.
“My Dearest (Y/n), It is with a heavy heart and trembling hand that I take quill to convey news that no mother should ever have to write down. As I write these words, tears splotch the paper, and each stroke of the pen is a painful reminder of the sorrow that has befallen our clan. My dearest child, it grieves me beyond measure to inform you that your beloved older brother, (B/n), has departed from this world. The weight of this solemn news rests heavily upon my shoulders, and the burden is almost too much to bear. The tragedy unfolded in the heart of the capital, where (B/n), in an act of unparalleled heroics, sacrificed his own life to save that of a young girl during a merciless ambush. His valor shone through, but the cost is another pain you must bear after the death of your own child. Oh, my (Y/n), the pain is unbearable. I wish I could shield you from this heart-wrenching truth, but I believe in your resilience. The thought that you are in exile, far from my comforting embrace, only adds bitterness to my heart. The cruel hand of fate has robbed you of the chance to bid a final farewell to your dear brother, to stand beside his resting place and pay tribute to his funeral. The distance that separates Ritou and Watatsumi feels insurmountable, and I ache at the thought of your solitary grief. I hope your spouse shall accompany you in these troubled times. In these dark hours, know that you are not alone in grief. Though separated, we mourn the loss of a beloved son and brother, the heir of the (L/n) clan. May time and the tender embrace of cherished memories bring some measure of peace to your soul. With all the love a grieving heart can muster, Mother”
As the ink on your mother's heartbreaking letter crumpled with sorrow in your heavy trembling grip, a weighted silence filled the room. The words she penned— each a painful jab to your psyche— threatened to spill tears you've fought so desperately to hold back for weeks since you didn’t want your spouse to worry.
Before you can succumb to weeping on the floor with a contorted expression and writhing body, the door opens, disrupting your peace. 
Prince Kunikuzushi, adorned with his mother’s feather and opulent regalia, strode into your humble abode with an irritating aura of entitlement. His presence, a stark contrast to the mourning atmosphere, successfully transformed your grief into weaponized spite.
"Still holding another Watatsumi Fair, are we?" he sneered, disdain dripping in every word. The callousness in his eyes and “indifference” to your mourning made the air all the more sharper.
“Why are you here, Your Highness?” You spat out. “Had your clow— soldiers failed to entertain you?”
“They are nearly as boring as your spouse in bed.” He snarled. “And I wager that their lives last longer than they do.”
You bit your tongue. Your spouse had made an effort to teach you not to reply to any insult he had towards them, and you had done decently enough to honor their wishes by merely scowling at the royal instead of equipping any nearby blunt weapon.
“Allow me to ask again,” you forced yourself to be cordial. “What are you doing here, Kunikuzushi?”
The prince clicked his tongue.
“Do I not have the authority to visit you?”
“You do,” you said. “But you do not have the right to barge in as you please, much like how Lord Hiroshi shouldn’t have decided to conquer my homeland Ritou and decide to claim it as Inazuman property for your mother’s ever-so-eternal happiness.”
“He was only claiming what is rightfully ours.”
Prince Kunikuzushi looked over at your bedroom door. You took large steps forward, blocking his way. You won’t allow him to disturb your lover’s good night’s rest.
He frowned.
"You should have been mine," he muttered softly. 
You hated this about Kunikuzushi the most. He speaks with audacity that knows no bounds as he criticizes your spouse, but would sound the most pure when addressing his own emotions. “You should’ve said yes. You should’ve ruled these nations with me, and more. But you threw it all away and for what? Fragile patriotism? You are defending an island that will suffer the same fate as your beloved Ritou.” 
In the eye of this tempest, your mother’s burning words fuels a fire that burns brighter than any royal decree. 
"You speak of love and marriages," you seethed, voice cutting through the tension, "but you know nothing of the bonds that truly matter."
As the realization dawns upon him, his arrogance wavered. 
He had not realized early on that news about your brother’s death had reached you already.
"An accident," he stammered, attempting to deflect blame. "If I knew, I would have spared him in that ambush. I’m not an All-Knowing God, so it’s genuinely just an accident."
With a chilling calmness, you locked eyes with him. "That wasn't an accident— our previous affairs were an accident. What you've done was murder." 
Your words hung in the air, leaving no room for denial.
“I love you,” the prince spoke in near-whisper. “You know better than anyone that I would never do anything to hurt you this bad. You know that I am the voice that called for your exile instead of execution. I never would’ve asked for his death.”
His claim was also true. 
You knew you were the only person who he had fallen for his whole life. You knew because when you were studying abroad, you had strange chance encounters with him. You knew because he was mildly stalking you and would’ve for a long time had you not offered a seat in the library. You knew because he had been a difficult person to court, always bottling his own emotions and lashing out in retorts you had dubbed “adorable” at a time. You knew because he had told you himself years ago that…
"You are insufferable. And yet, I find myself inexplicably drawn to your company. It's horridly vexing. Your presence lingers in my thoughts long after you've departed, like an annoying insect. I must confess, despite my best efforts, I find myself rather fond of you too— ridiculously enough."
... But what you didn’t know during your studies in Fontaine was that Kunikuzushi was the son of the Queen you despised and wrote articles against in editorial jobs to earn not only spare cash but the enlightenment of your people back home. What you didn’t know was that the prince had been sent by his mother to monitor your actions.
What you did not know came to haunt you on your way back home. 
So you rid yourself of these memories and cornered him into a wall, a hand just behind his head. The sound of your hand slamming made the intimidating prince flinch, and he trembled at the dullness of your eyes.
“And yet whose orders was it? Whose order was it to ensure there would be no survivors in that location? WHOSE WAS IT, KUNIKUZUSHI?! ANSWER ME!!!”
Your spouse called your name from the other room. “(Y/n), is everything alright?”
With their voice, your anger faded slightly, yet your breathing remains loud and manic. “I’m alright! Do not leave the room, dear!”
“Scaramouche” took that as an opportunity to digress.
“I saved you from death before. Do not forget that.” His face hardened. “In case you've forgotten, I'm no saint. Many people will want to seek me out and settle the grudges they've built against me, and what better way to avoid that than to route those future seeds of rebellion?” 
The prince took your hand off the wall.
“Mother had enough, she sees no reason to hold back against those who rebel and she had filed an order to reopen your case. And if my blood and hers are the same, I guarantee you that she will only provide you with the worst defense attorney possible. You will surely receive the death sentence.”
He placed your hand on his chest, gripping it so desperately tight to the point of it hurting.
“So choose me,” Kunikuzushi mumbled. “Choose me, and save yourself. Do not follow your brother’s path. Choose me. I’m your only option.”
And heavens above, does he take delight in that.
You met his gaze with a resolute determination. 
"I appreciate your offer," you replied, your voice steady, "but I refuse. My brother's legacy, as tarnished as it may be, deserves justice, and so do I."
A flicker of frustration passed across Kunikuzushi's face. 
"You're being naive," he retorted, the desperation in his voice taking a sharper edge. "An arraignment is on its way. The military court will not deliver justice. It will devour you. I’m offering you a fucking lifeline, a chance to escape the inevitable."
“I won't tarnish my brother's memory by succumbing to the same shadows that claimed him."
Kunikuzushi's eyes, once filled with a glimmer of hope, darkened with frustration. "You're condemning yourself—" he argued, "—for an idealistic notion of justice that doesn't exist. You're a fool."
"Perhaps I am a fool," you admitted, "But I am a fool who is sure of their innocence. I am not a revolutionary, I only spoke and wrote of the truth. I will not compromise my integrity for the sake of expedience."
As you spoke, the defeat in Kunikuzushi's eyes began to settle. 
"You're determined," he snarled. "So stubbornly determined to die!"
"Perhaps," you acknowledged, "Choosing you would be an escape, but it would also be a betrayal of everything I stand for. And I…"
You smiled.
“I love my spouse,” you said. “And the child we made that was taken from me all so suddenly. Hence, I do not need your love, Prince Scaramouche.”
Kunikuzushi tensed up.
Your child was baptized by the Inazuman priests. 
And Inazuman priests serve the royal family and their constituents.
History’s eyes will speculate that Prince Kunikuzushi was the reason your child had died, that he had ordered your son's immediate poison upon birth.
And Kunikuzushi knows it to be true.
But you will never know that.
You will never know the full extent of what this man had taken from you.
With those words, you turned away from Kunikuzushi, leaving him and his offer behind. You opened the door and gestured for him to leave. Neither of you knew at the time that this would be the last night you’d spend in the comfort of your own home.
Before you knew it, you were writing your final farewells.
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(Y/n) (L/n) was subjected by the military court on ████████ ██, ████ and was sentenced to death at six in the morning.
The people saw no justice for their hero, and your body was buried in Inazuma City. If it were not for all you and your clan had given, there would be no freedom in Watatsumi Island and Ritou. Had your brother not saved the young girl, she would not become the matriarch of the Yuna Clan, who led the first Navy in the revolution.
And had you not died in Inazuma City, there would be no Resistance.
But that was centuries ago. 
Divine Priestess Sangonomiya Kokomi sat on her desk, examining previous preliminary investigations. She racked her brain over the testimonies of the seven members of the military court, the judge advocate, the defense counsel, and the prosecuting attorney. The prince was right when he stated the trial would not be fair for you were forced to employ a Lt. Arataki as your defense. It was a prejudged trial. Despite the obvious assertion of innocence, you were still acquitted of your allegations of treachery.
It never fails to make the current Head Priestess feel sour over a 5 centuries-year-old case.
"In their last moments, (L/n) penned Watatsumi Fair and Canticle, two sonnets kept hidden in an alcohol burner." Kokomi murmured as she read. "Although the prince barred their spouse entry, several other family members and friends came to visit (L/n) with the Orobashi coral statue provided by the townsfolk. The sculpture was created for them during the aforementioned fair."
Are you going to Watatsumi Fair?
"In their Fontainian black suit, hat, shoes, and white vest, (L/n) walked calmly outside their prison cell to the execution site in Inazuma City. They've even checked (L/n)'s pulse and felt no irregularities. (L/n) were tied elbow-to-elbow despite their visible acceptance of fate."
"It was speculated that Prince Kunikuzushi was the last person whom they talked to, looking rather somberly with disdain. He spoke in a foreign language so only (L/n) and he knew of their conversation."
 
Seri, mitsuba, yomogi, shiso.
"But Archbishop Sangonomiya Umiko understood what he had said. Je t'aime, mon grand amour… ma première trahison. Roughly translated as I love you, my grand love… my first betrayal."
"Lector (Y/n) (L/n) was commanded to face the ground when the firing squad pulled the trigger, but they still tried to face their executioners. They fell to the shoveled ground, looking at the gray morning skies. They were buried at seven."
“From then on, the name Kunikuzushi changed its meaning to Country Destroyer— for he had successfully demolished the Inazuman Empire upon sitting on the throne through violent means. When asked about this, the King responded with:”
Remember me to one who lives there.
“I didn't desire the Empire that took away my (Y/n). I didn't crave any of it. As soon as I was coronated, my heart stopped beating. And so, I enticed the neighboring King Morax to crumble the very essence of the Inazuman Empire. What purpose do these soldiers have in life, when all they've done is obediently follow ruthless commands and snuff out the ones who hold my heart?
When it’s said and done, I will be empty— a blank slate, destined to wander the desolate corridors of a nation bygone.
Only to honor these filthy human emotions called “love” that never came to be.”
He once was a true love of mine.
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Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist <3): @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram , @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen
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zzukowo · 2 months ago
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Zuko’s little secret <3 (5th October)
Zuko x Reader
Prompt! Gaang gets curious about where zuko sneaks off to every night
The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue across the icy expanse of the Northern Water Tribe.
The Gaang had made their way north to visit the tranquil village, eager to regroup with their allies and recharge after their last battle. Zuko, now a trusted member of the group, had been a part of their team for some time, his fiery temperament mellowing under the warmth of friendship.
As evening fell, Zuko found himself slipping away from the warm glow of the warriors’ gathering hall. His heart raced with excitement, but he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt. He was on his way to meet Y/N, the stunning waterbending princess of the Northern Water Tribe. Their secret rendezvous had become a cherished escape from the weight of his past, a place where he could be just Zuko and not the exiled prince of the Fire Nation.
Zuko made his way through the glimmering streets, his mind focused on the evening ahead. Y/N was enchanting, with a spirit as free as the ocean waves. They often met by a secluded spot near the coast, a hidden alcove surrounded by rocks and softly illuminated by the moonlight. Their conversations flowed as freely as the water, and every moment spent with her felt like a breath of fresh air.
Meanwhile, back at the hall, Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph gathered around the fire, their chatter filled with laughter and stories from their travels. Sokka leaned back, eyeing Zuko’s empty seat across from him.
“Where do you think Zuko keeps disappearing to every night?” he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
Aang shrugged, his curiosity piqued. “He’s been really dedicated to training lately. Maybe he’s just taking some time to himself.”
“Or maybe he’s off brooding about something,” Toph smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Katara crossed her arms, her brows furrowing. “I don’t know… It’s a little odd, don’t you think? He’s been leaving right after dinner every night.”
Sokka nodded, his expression serious. “We should follow him. If he’s up to something, I want to know what it is. It could be dangerous.”
Toph rolled her eyes, clearly amused. “Are you sure it’s not just a crush? You know how moody he gets. He probably just wants to be alone.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather see it for myself,” Sokka said, determination in his voice. “We’ll follow him tonight.”
As night fell, Zuko met Y/N at their secret spot, the sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop to their soft laughter. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and dreams as they watched the stars twinkle above.
“Do you think they’ll ever accept you?” Y/N asked gently, her eyes reflecting concern.
Zuko sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I hope so. But my past… it’s a heavy burden. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve happiness.”
Y/N reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “You deserve it, Zuko. You’re not the same person you were. You’re trying to change, and that’s what matters.”
Just then, a rustling noise broke through their moment. Zuko’s heart raced, instinctively looking around. “Did you hear that?”
Before he could react, Sokka, Aang, and Katara emerged from the shadows, their expressions a mix of surprise and triumph. Toph followed behind, her trademark smirk plastered on her face.
“Zuko!” Sokka called, pointing an accusatory finger. “What’s going on here?”
Y/N quickly pulled her hand away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Zuko felt a surge of anger and embarrassment as he faced his friends.
“Guys, this isn’t what it looks like,” Zuko stammered, his usual composure slipping.
“Looks like a date to me,” Sokka teased, trying to mask his surprise with bravado.
Katara’s eyes widened as she turned to Y/N, who stood frozen, her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension. “You’re… you’re Princess Y/N?”
“I… uh…” Y/N stammered, unsure of how to respond.
“Zuko’s been keeping secrets!” Aang chimed in, grinning. “And here we thought he was just brooding alone!”
Zuko glared at his friends, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment coursing through him. “I didn’t want to hide this. I just wanted to keep it special.”
“Special?” Sokka raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin on his face. “This is epic!”
“Yeah, what’s the deal?” Toph chimed in, crossing her arms. “You two should’ve just told us. We would have supported you!”
Y/N finally found her voice, a hint of laughter breaking through her initial surprise. “I didn’t think it would be this complicated!”
Zuko took a deep breath, his heart racing as he turned to face Y/N. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. You mean a lot to me, and I didn’t want to put pressure on us.”
Y/N smiled softly, her eyes shimmering under the moonlight. “I feel the same way, Zuko. I didn’t want to rush things either.”
“Okay, so are you guys dating or what?” Sokka interrupted, his curiosity piqued.
“Yes,” Zuko admitted, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “We are.”
A cheer erupted from the group, laughter and teasing filling the air. Katara stepped forward, beaming at Y/N. “You’re perfect for him. Just know that if he hurts you, I’ll have to kick his butt!”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Zuko promised, his gaze steady on Y/N. “I care about her too much.”
As the group embraced the new dynamic, Zuko felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of acceptance he had longed for. In that moment, surrounded by his friends and Y/N, he realized that perhaps he truly was on the path to redemption. And as he intertwined his fingers with Y/N once more, he knew their love would only grow stronger in the light of honesty and friendship.
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rainystarters · 10 months ago
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๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 and other stories . . . 〗 a collection of dialogue + action prompts inspired by angela carter's the bloody chamber and other stories. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. adjust details as necessary.
dialogue :
are you sure you want to marry him?
oh! how you must want me!
soon.
i had never been vain until i met you.
anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.
all the better to see you.
what is that key? the key to your heart?
every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.
all is yours, everywhere is open to you.
but now... what shall i do now?
my darling, i cannot wait for the moment when you make me yours completely.
there is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.
you are in some great distress.
any bride brought to a castle should come ready dressed in mourning.
oh god. i can smell the blood.
i thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behavior!
can't it wait until morning, my darling?
who can say what i deserve or no?
i've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.
i have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse upon my display of flesh.
good fellow? i am no good fellow.
forgive me for robbing your garden!
all she wanted, in the whole world, was one white, perfect rose.
and what else was there to be done?
they are the death of any tender herbivore.
so late! you will want sleep.
you will come back to me? it will be lonely here, without you.
i will come back. soon, before the winter is over.
i am sick and i must die.
if you'll have me, i'll never leave you.
i think i might be able to manage a little breakfast today.
i have lost my pearl, my pearl beyond price.
if you are so careless of your treasure, you should expect them to be taken from you.
for all my pride, my heart is heavy.
if you wish to give me money, then i should be pleased to receive it.
i shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.
you are a woman of honor.
nothing human lives here.
we have dispensed with servants.
take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? is that all you want of me?
all cats are cynics.
you read my thoughts, my love.
the woods enclose. the wood swallows you up.
all will fall still, all lapse.
it is easy to lose yourself in these woods.
i thought that nobody was in the wood but me.
there are some eyes can eat you.
sometimes the birds, at random, all singing, strike a chord.
eat me, drink me.
dive in and fetch it for me.
now you are at the place of annihilation.
and she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.
can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?
beauty is a symptom of disorder, of soullessness.
a single kiss woke up the sleeping beauty in the wood.
be he alive or be he dead.
coffee. you must have coffee.
welcome. welcome to my chateau.
i rarely receive visitors and that's a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of a stranger.
this place is so lonely.
now the village is deserted.
often i am so silent that i think i, too, will soon forget how to do so and nobody will ever talk any more.
i must apologize for the lack of light.
you have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.
i am condemned to solitude and dark.
i do not mean to hurt you.
i will be very gentle.
and could love free me from the shadows?
i've been waiting for you in my wedding dress, why have you delayed for so long.
you will feel no pain, my darling.
so delicate and damned, poor thing. quite damned.
the end of exile is the end of being.
it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.
the devil is as real as you or i.
do not leave the path.
you are always in danger in the forest.
they are as unkind as plague.
fear and flee the wolf; for, worst of all, the wolf may be more than he seems.
besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?
actions :
clasp. from behind, the sender places their hands over the receiver's eyes.
opera. through opera glasses, the sender watches the receiver.
choker. the sender fastens a gemstone necklace around the receiver's neck.
carriage. the sender locks the receiver in with them in their train compartment.
spine. the sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's bare neck.
cigar. the sender leans in and blows smoke in the receiver's face.
ermine. the sender wraps the furs around the receiver tighter as the snow falls.
keys. the sender silently enters the room and listens to the receiver play piano.
harem. the sender undresses the receiver before a collection of mirrors.
lazy. the sender brings the receiver breakfast in bed.
call. the sender calls the receiver and bursts into tears upon hearing their voice.
note. the sender discovers a love letter sent to the receiver from a previous lover.
death. the sender finds the receiver with the body of their latest victim.
hospitality. the sender watches from the shadows as the receiver take refuge from a storm in the sender's seemingly abandoned home.
servant. invisible, the sender feeds/washes/cares for the receiver.
hearth. the sender and the receiver talk past midnight by the fire's light.
hands. the sender falls to their knees before the receiver and kisses their hands.
bouquet. the sender has a hundred white roses sent to the receiver.
reunion. the sender lays eyes upon the receiver for the first time in an age.
bad luck. the sender hangs their head having lost a bet to the receiver.
voice. the sender sends their valet to speak their desires to the receiver.
powder. the sender dresses/makes up the receiver before an important night.
stallion. the sender grabs the reins of the receiver's horse and leads them away.
weep. the sender cries at the sight of the receiver in such a state.
dry. the sender brushes a tear from the receiver's cheek.
flush. the sender pinches the receiver's skin, watching it redden with blood.
prey. the sender guides the receiver's hands as together they skin a rabbit.
song. the sender sings and the receiver is spellbound, their feet following their song's command.
caught. the sender locks the receiver into a cage.
green. by the sender's command, the growth begins to take over the receiver.
tarot. the sender tells the receiver they are doomed to a sad fate.
stain. the sender touches the bloodstain on the receiver's white negligée.
wild. the sender rides hard through the night, chasing the receiver.
thirst. the sender sinks their teeth into the neck of the receiver.
china. the sender pours tea for the receiver and offers them biscuits.
blemish. the sender explores the receiver's skin and finds the mark of a witch.
wolf. the wolf reveals themself to be the sender before the receiver.
muzzle. the sender kisses the monstrous mouth of the receiver.
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ohyoru · 1 year ago
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✿ drop the formality ft wriothesley
author's note; in celebration of my short break from focallette and wriothesley coming home, also because i'm sick so i need some comfort uwu
you've known wriothesley way before he was the fortress of meropide's administrator. back then, he's just mr. wriothesley, the exile. now, if anyone is to ask you about him, you'll say something like 'he's a dear colleague of mine', followed by singing of praises for the man he had become. meanwhile, if anyone is to ask him about you, he'll speak lengthily of your capability, but his chatter will end with 'how unfortunate that we're just colleagues'.
it pains him that you've yet to realise his reserved adoration just for you. there's no way you're that oblivious! or did other men treat you the same way? not that he'll blame them, you're such a sweetheart to everyone. but still, it made him feel a little possessive. as an orphan, wriothesley never really get to own anything, so you'll need to excuse him for being a little greedy.
when he heard of your sick leave, he didn't think twice about paying you a visit. a quick heads-up to his second-in-command and the head nurse, he's away from the underwater prison. "please have a seat", you motioned to the chair by your bed and asked the maid to brew his favourite tea. "i'm sorry to trouble you with visiting me in this state. is there any urgent matter to be discussed?". there's a weak yet sweet smile on your face, making him felt slight guilty for being the bother here.
"nothing as such, just here to pay a visit to my precious colleague". that made you smile happier and the room felt like it got slightly brighter. the maid arrived shortly after to deliver the tea while you're chatting away on the idle bits of your respective lives. the sun had passed quite some degree across the sky and the third fill of the teapot had been drained away when he noticed you looking drowsy and unintentionally stared. "mr. wriothesley?".
he sat straighter and exhaled, "how about we drop the formality? not to sound imposing but i think we've already passed that stage, don't you think?". you blinked, taking his suggestion to consideration before you finally nodding, "only if you're alright with it". his grinned and called you by your name alone to test the water. he swore he saw your slightly pale cheeks dusted pink. "thank you for visiting me. please have a safe trip home, wriothesley". he bowed and left with his heart blooming to it fullest. maybe one day, he'll get to call you with titles of endearment. he'll think about it.
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exileandtrust · 1 month ago
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Okay I made my blog boring because I hate social media and get addicted easily. I still want to see the cool art you guys make but this blog is just going to be boring chapter updates and cool fanart people make from here on out to preserve my mental health. Thanks.
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Text
modern Wolf Hybrid! Katsuki Bakugou X Bunny Hybrid! Reader
MDNI!
Hey y'all, I'm back! sooooo, I took a lil break from basically everything, and since you've been waiting so patiently like the good wifeys you are, I've decided to put this little number out. It's been sitting in my drafts for a bit, and while it isn't the next installment of my series, I hope it'll tide you over for a while as I work on chapter 4. think of it as hold music in an elevator, or don't, I don't care... What's that? you want me to stop yapping and give you the summary? Oh, right, basically Katsuki is being an attention whore, you get into an argument, and you make up. Sound good?
words: 1756
Warnings: Reader is AFAB, Reader recieves oral, slight teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint reaaaally hard, Katsu is bad at communication but he's trying,
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He didn't understand you. Watching you sit on his couch, talking and talking on the phone to your family, not paying attention to him. Sure, you were from different cultures, and he understood that, but you and your family just...cared so much. He moved out when he was 16, just like every other wolf, and only saw his family for major holidays or events.
You on the other hand, you moved out only for college, something your parents fought you every step of the way on, especially because you went to St. Lupus University. It was in the middle of St. Lupus City, a hotspot for people looking for opportunity, as well as mostly populated by wolves. Your parents were extremely old fashioned, believing that all wolves were predators, and while life with Katsuki was definitely blood-pumping, he was hardly predatory.
In fact, you were lying to them right now, dodging questions about if you've "Been eaten yet" (not in the way they think), or if you found a boyfriend. You answered both questions with no, even though that last one was a lie. Katsuki rested on the back of the couch, standing over you with his arms on either side of your head. You leaned your head back, smiling at him and reaching up to scratch his scalp just below his fluffy ear.
He leaned into it, frowning with hard eyes yet his tail swishing back and forth behind him. You kept chatting and chatting, the phone being passed around to your multitude of family members. "Uh huh...yeah! Oh, it's great here... No, I haven't been attacked..."
Katsuki rolled his eyes, a slight rumbling coming from his chest. These people were so stupid, believing anything they hear, stuck in old ways. He came around the couch, sitting down and putting his arm around your shoulders. You smiled and leaned in, resting against his side and continuing to talk. "You done yet," he grumbled, twisting the ends of your hair with his fingers.
"No," you whispered, covering the mic of your phone. "h-huh? Oh, that's great." you said blithely, much to Katsuki's disgruntlement. How could anyone on that dumb phone be more important than him right now? He put his head in your lap, to which you absentmindedly tousled his hair, thumbing the blonde fur of his plush and pert ears. This wasn't enough for him though, despite how it made him tingle all over.
He sat back up, taking your face in his hands. You gave him a confused smile, and he got in close quickly to kiss you with all the passion he could muster. You were definitely surprised, and pulled away even faster to respond to your family members with blushing cheeks and a pounding heart. "N-nope, no boyfriend yet...!"
Katsuki scowled. He knew you couldn't tell them, it would probably get you exiled from your podunk little town, but he still hated how the words sounded coming out of your mouth.
"Just hang up already," he huffed, not caring if anyone on the other side heard him. "Stop whining," you whispered, continuing to chatter. He groaned and stood up, stomping off. What a baby.
A few minutes later, he came back, this time with a devilish grin on his face. He sat in front of you, tail thumping against the ground with a slow rhythm, resting his chin on your knees. You were a little skeptical about it at first, but he did nothing unsavory, so you just ignored it and scratched his head, rubbing at his ears. He enjoyed it thoroughly, closing his eyes and his face relaxing a little, but he quickly snapped out of it. He had a mission.
Slowly and carefully, he moved in closer and closer, parting your legs more and more, an easy task with your skirt. You didn't notice a thing. perfect. Finally, he reached his destination, that sweet spot right between your plush thighs. He looked up, seeing how consumed you were by your conversation, how you didn't even notice the way his breath fanned across your panties. Now he was going to teach you not to ignore him, to give him the attention he deserved.
He licked a stripe up the fabric of your underwear, his skilled tongue starting at the entrance of your vagina and moving to the top of your clit. You yelped, your eyes finally meeting his in confusion. He grinned up at you, his hands now on your hips, scrunching your skirt up and running his thumb under the side wing of your panties. "K-katsuki," you whispered, your voice a stern, before your phone called your attention once more. "O-oh, It's nothing! just saw a bug," you laughed nervously.
Katsuki scowled, clearly he needed more to get you to hang up. He ripped away your underwear like paper, something you could do nothing about at the moment, and immediately latched on to your clit. This time you squeezed your mouth shut, keeping yourself as quiet as possible. You glared daggers at him, your cheery tone on the phone completely different than your expression. He just smiled like he won a prize, holding eye contact as he lapped and sucked like a man starved.
He gripped your hip in one hand while the other slid to your entrance, immediately sticking two fingers in and pumping in and out. The combination was too much for you, and you conceded, giving a quick bye to your family. "Katsuki," you cried the second your hung up, sitting upright. You were trying to be mad, but...god, he was hot, blissed out between your thighs.
"What? Shoulda listened the first time," he taunted with a muffled voice, continuing with his ministrations. Soon enough, you found your thighs clenching around his head, your hand interlaced through his hair, and your toes curling. He made sure to lap up every drop, inside and out, eyes locked on your beautiful face.
"Why do you always do this," you panted after calming down from your high, seriously curious, as he got up and stood over you. He frowned, this wasn't exactly the response he wanted, and his ears drooped slightly. "Why're you always on the phone when you should be paying attention to me?" He didn't understand it, after all he was never on the phone when he was with you.
You sighed and sat all the way up, something a little uncomfortable with the lack of underwear. You patted the seat next to you, and he begrudgingly sat down. "Katsuki, I know you don't feel the same way about family that I do, but they're important to me! I miss them."
He stared you down, eyes sharp, brows furrowed, and mouth in a deep frown. "Do you think they'll feel the way you feel about them when they find out? Do you honestly believe they love you the way you love them when they'd throw you out like trash the second they realize you and I are together?!"
His words stung, mostly because they were true, but also because of the way he spoke to you. "No...but, does it matter? Don't I get to feel loved by them a little longer?"
He went silent. The sad look in your eyes, the way your forehead creased, the way your cute little ears pressed sadly against your head. Fuck, you were too patient with him. Too reasonable. Why couldn't you just yell at him back, so he could feel like he was right to argue with you?
You just shook your head and got up, going to his bedroom and shutting the door. You couldn't just sit there and wait for him to comprehend, you needed some space until he could talk to you.
Five minutes later, he walked in to see you in his bed, your bunny ears flat against your head, and your face illuminated by your phone screen as you scrolled. Damn it, he could see tear stains. He could feel his heartstrings being plucked like a lyre. He sat on his knees in front of your face, his tail practically between his legs and his ears flattened back as he rested his chin on the bed. "'m sorry," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as his scowl hid his fear that he may have pushed a little too far.
You set your phone down, wiping a couple tears from your eyes. "Why," you asked shortly, making him a little stunned for a moment. You wanted to make sure he meant it. It was one thing to say sorry, but a whole other thing to mean it.
"Because, I was bein' stupid...and rude..."
"And an asshole," you interjected.
"And an asshole," he repeated, chuckling slightly. He brought his hand to yours, and you hesitantly took it. "I just...I dunno," he scoffed, never one for talking things out. "I don't like how they think."
You nodded with understanding, kissing his hand and pressing your face against it. "I know, I know it's wrong..." you seemed to be thinking for a moment, and Katsuki was patiently waiting to hear what you had to say. "I'm gonna tell them. Tomorrow." He lit up for a moment, but quickly masked it because he knew it wasn't going to easy for you. Still, his tail thumping against the ground gave away his joy.
"Do you...want me to be there...?" He wanted to be, mainly to defend you and see their dumb faces realize it, but he also wanted to keep you from bawling. "that'd be nice," you sighed, blinking slowly.
You hadn't realized how tired you were, you were emotionally drained from all this, the big decision you just made, plus the fact that the smell and ambiance of Katsuki's room was so relaxing. The warm lighting from the lamp on his bedside, the soft blankets and pillows simulating a den, and the scent of burnt caramel and musk permeating the room.
He could see how sleepy you felt, and slowly got into bed with you, testing the waters to see if you still needed space. You let him, turning over and snuggling into his chest. He nuzzled into the top of your head, breathing in your scent and running his fingers through your hair. "I love you, I hope you know that, dumbass," he mumbles tenderly against your scalp, running his hand gently over your ears and down your head over and over again while watching as your tired frown turns into a soft smile. Those fuckers have another thing coming tomorrow.
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I hope you liked the soft feels at the end, because I sure did. Like I said in other posts, angst isn't really my thing, so I deeply apologize to all angst lovers if they expected more of it. As always, let me know how you feel about this!
tagging you because I care <3: @b134ch-m4h-ey3z
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lampochkaart · 11 months ago
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I really love this parallel between Kaito and Kokichi.
Kaito has the persona of a stereotypical hero. He built his personality around the "hero-protagonist" archetype. He always talks abot himself in that way. He literally calls his close friends "sidekicks."
But with all this, the the main character of the game is Shuichi, Kaito's “sidekick”. And from the viewer’s perspective, Kiibo can be considered protagonist.
Kokichi plays the role of a clichéd villain. He constantly chatters about how he has a huge villainous organization, he exiles unwanted people to Siberia, he controls the entire government, etc. He plays the terrible villain as best he can. Later in game he even pretends to be a mastermind.
But at the same time, he is not the actual villain. He is not a mastermind. He was not the one, who imprisoned everyone in that academy and forced them to kill each other. Moreover, by nature he is a pacifist and spent all his time in the killing game trying to find a way out and save the most people.
In short, Kaito and Kokichi play the roles of clichéd hero and villain, without actually being them.
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myokk · 4 months ago
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before it felt like a sin, ch. 2
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ch.1
pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
word count: 6900
summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.
And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.
She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.
a/n: here's chapter 2!! I just wanted to add these amazing beautiful drawings I look back on allllllll the time, by @kay9leo 🥹🫶 I LOVE YOU SO MUCH !!!!! 😙💓😙💓😙💓
I also want to reiterate that this fic is REALLY CANON DIVERGENT!!!!! I will NOT be following the game’s plot at all really with this (it really starts to diverge around chapter 6/7 maybe I don’t remember), and I don’t see Eloise as the game’s MC either.
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Things were definitely not going as planned…not that Eloise had really known what to expect. Almost from the moment the portkey had brought her to meet Professor Fig, it seemed like everything had gone from bad to worse.
And it had all started out so well. He had handed her the provisional wand, and upon contact the magic coursing through her had been exhilarating. Finally Eloise was able to experience what she had dreamed of for so long. All too soon, however, she was putting the wand to use in ways she hadn’t imagined. Watching Mr. Ospric die had made her blood run cold but then she didn’t have the luxury of processing the shock as so much was happening at once and there was a dragon and death and then…another portkey? Before she knew it, she was fighting some sort of sentient guardians in some mysterious Gringott’s vault and there was concrete proof of the goblin uprising…it was simply too much to take in at once.
Now, she was standing in front of the ornate entrance to a room Professor Fig had called the “Great Hall”. He checked the pocketwatch inside his robes again, and muttered (more to himself than anything) “hopefully the sorting is still going on…” and then in a louder voice as he glanced at Eloise - “come along then, young Eloise!”
He peered more closely at her then, taking in her pale appearance and added in a kinder tone, “I’m sure you’re hungry. We’ll just head in and get you sorted into your house, and then an early night for the both of us. Don’t worry about the things that were lost in the attack - I’m sure one of your new housemates will share her things with you until they are replaced.”
With that, he pushed open the doors and ushered her in. In any normal circumstances, Eloise was sure that she would have been absolutely in awe of the breathtaking appearance that greeted her. It was simply…for lack of a better word, magical. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky above the castle, stars glimmering through the wispy purple clouds that covered the ceiling. There were thousands of candles floating in the air, illuminating the hall in a soft, golden light.
She couldn’t focus on any of that.
As soon as Fig opened the double doors, the low chatter that filled the Great Hall slowly faded as everyone turned to look at who had entered. Eloise froze. Hundreds of faces all staring at her, filled with curiosity.
Judging her.
They must all know that she was a squib and didn’t actually belong there.
No. She had proved her magical capabilities earlier that day, albeit in a different manner than she had expected. She deserved to be here just as much as they did.
The teacher at the far end of the hall was saying something and the students surrounding her had begun to whisper amongst themselves. There was so much buzzing in her ears that she didn’t hear a word that was said. Then, a familiar voice - how in the world could it still be familiar after so much time? - broke through the fog and her head turned sharply to the side at the noise.
“Eloise?”
Her gaze met familiar hazel eyes as Leo quickly stood up, taking a step towards her before he caught himself and stayed where he was. If the shock hadn’t already been apparent enough in his voice, one look at his expression told Eloise everything. He hadn’t had any idea that she had been accepted to Hogwarts. After she had been burned off of the family tree by her mother, it was like she didn’t exist anymore. Of course he hadn’t known that she would be there.
Leo had changed since Eloise last saw him. Of course he did, she thought to herself. It had been five years, after all. The same unruly black curls, same eyes. And yet…he almost seemed a stranger to her. He was taller, face more angular and defined than it had been at thirteen. Voice deeper. But, the expression of vulnerability and guilt written all over his face was something she recognized well. It was the same expression that he had had the last time he saw her, the face she sometimes saw before falling asleep. Just as quickly as it flashed across his face however, it was gone, hidden behind a stony exterior. His expression hardened and he sat down just as quickly as he had stood up, quickly averting his eyes. The people around him were looking between them curiously, but before Eloise could even begin to process this new situation, she felt a gentle push on her shoulder.
Professor Fig had been talking to her. “…the Sorting Hat. You need to go up and get sorted into your house.”
She looked up at him and realized that he was gesturing to the front of the Great Hall, vaguely recalling how Leo had described the sorting ceremony in his first letter home from Hogwarts. Everyone was still staring.
Well, let them, she thought. Eloise tossed her braid over her shoulder and lifted her head high, straightening her posture in the meantime. Did it matter if everyone was staring at her? She determined that if people were going to be whispering about her, speculating about her, she would give them something to talk about. About the girl who was admitted in her fifth-year at Hogwarts. The girl who surpassed them all.
Eloise shook off Professor Fig’s hand and walked to the raised platform, where there was a stool and a professor waiting with an ancient wizarding hat in her hands. As Eloise sat down, a semicircle of professors behind her and the tables of students in front of her, the hat was placed on top of her head. It was so formless and well-worn that the faded fabric slid over her eyes and she was surrounded by darkness.
Hmm…interesting, a voice purred in her mind. Eloise jumped at the sound. Don’t worry, dear. I won’t hurt you, although I suppose that not everyone would say that. My, my. You have had a rough go of things, haven’t you?
It’s not often I get to sort a new fifth-year student. She realized that it was the hat talking to her. Always much more interesting, you see. The first-years are always fun because I get to see their potential and who they will turn out to be, but even that can be fallible sometimes. People are shaped by their experiences.
An older student, though? Someone closer to the person they will be, with more experiences that have shaped them? Oh yes, these are the ones I like the most.
Wait, thought Eloise. You’ve sorted others like me before?
Oh yes. A pause. The voice purred in her ear. I can see the hunger for knowledge in you. But…Ravenclaw seems too simplistic. Behind the intelligence lies great ambition. A desire to prove yourself. Prove you belong. Yes, you may have had a rough life but you have managed to use what’s around you to your advantage. So, you must be a…
“SLYTHERIN!”
Eloise started at the sudden shout, realizing that it must have been out loud. As the hat was pulled off of her head, she could see the students at the table at the far end of the hall, the one Leo was at, break into furious whispers amongst each other. The teacher with her smiled kindly and pointed Eloise in their direction. “That’s the Slytherin table, dear. Once you sit down, we can begin eating.”
Eloise got up numbly and slowly walked towards the table. The whispering got louder as she neared it, and the students kept shooting her glances. Most seemed simply curious about the new, older student who had just been sorted into Slytherin, but others looked at her with hostility. Two students moved aside and motioned to her.
“Figured you would rather sit with us than the first years.”
The girl who spoke gave her an appraising look, taking in her muggle clothing and mussed-up hair. Eloise sat down next to her, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt. Now that the sorting was over and she was actually interacting with her future classmates, she felt exhausted and completely unable to keep up her facade of nonchalance.
“I was going to ask if you like quidditch but…judging by your clothes -“
“Gods, Imelda,” came a drawling voice to Eloise’s left. “Can’t you give the poor girl a break? Not even one second at our table and you’re already trying to recruit her for the team.”
The boy who spoke gave an amused look to Imelda before turning to Eloise. “You’ll want to watch out for that one - if she even gets a whiff of the fact you can fly a broom, she’ll be out to recruit -“
“It’s not my fault!” Imelda interrupted forcefully, smacking her hands on the table and leaning over Eloise to talk to him. “Our best players all graduated last year and I have it cut out for me -“
“- you to the Slytherin team,” the boy concluded, ignoring Imelda’s heated protests. She sat back with a huff and crossed her arms. “Just ignore her. It’s what we’ve found works best. I’m Sebastian Sallow and this is Ominis Gaunt. Two people you will actually want to spend time with.”
He stuck his tongue out at Imelda as he held his hand out to Eloise. The boy across from them snickered quietly to himself as he listened to Imelda splutter in denial. Eloise shook Sebastian’s hand hesitantly. “Eloise. And actually,” she added, turning to Imelda, “I do know what quidditch is. Unfortunately, I’ve never ridden a broom though.”
That got Imelda going again, this time about how it was absolutely impossible that someone could know about the existence of quidditch without ever touching a broom. She seemed to be of the opinion that knowing of its existence meant an undying desire to learn how to play. “So you’re not a mudblood, then? Oh, who am I kidding - of course you’re not. We’re in Slytherin, after all. But how…”
Fortunately, food started appearing on the table before Imelda could finish her thought. It was enough to move her attention from Eloise as she began to pile different foods on her plate. To be quite honest, Eloise was relieved. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell others about her circumstances, especially during this first night before she knew anyone. Would they think differently of her if they knew that she had been disowned from her family and presumed a squib?
Who was she kidding? Of course everyone would judge her for that. Besides, she knew she wanted to talk to Leo before revealing anything - maybe he could help her get a feel for how to approach the situation. If he wanted to even associate with her, that is. Once again, the thought passed through her mind that he could have changed through the years, just as she had. Their parents could be quite persuasive, and more often than not the two siblings had learned that it was easier to go along with them than against.
Leo had grown up with the adoration of their parents, showing magical prowess at the young age of three, when his favorite toys started following him around in a little parade. Eloise, on the other hand…as the years passed and she still wasn’t showing signs of anything at all, not even a measly show of a sneeze blowing her away, their parents started working to distance the siblings from each other. It hadn’t been very effective and yet…without her presence, she could see him moving on in his life. Just as she had tried to do.
A sharp poke to her side. Eloise jumped and looked at Sebastian. “Aren’t you going to eat anything? You need to grab the good things before they’re gone - it’s every man out for himself during the feasts.”
She looked around and, sure enough, the food on the plates was steadily going down. It all looked absolutely delicious - mountains of meat, bread, puddings…her stomach growled loudly as she took it all in. Eloise hurriedly started putting the closest food to her on her plate, reaching over to give herself a heaping serving of mashed potatoes on the side. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he replied after swallowing the food he was eating. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day if you arrived that late to the sorting ceremony. As you walked up to the stool, Ominis and I had a bet about which house you would be sorted into. I told him, after my first glance at you, that I could tell you’d be one of us, but unfortunately, he - “
“Hey! I can hear you,” Ominis said from across the table, leaning forward slightly. Eloise realized that he was blind - his eyes had no pupils at all. His gaze was unfocused but his head turned in her direction. He explained, “I could only sense your form as you walked down the Hall. And, for the record, before Sebastian can say otherwise, I said I could tell you would be a Slytherin. Will the blind jokes ever get old?”
“As long as I have breath in my body - hey!”
Ominis had thrown a roll at Sebastian’s head which, surprisingly, hit its mark.
“I might not be able to see what just happened, but I know that I’ve just won,” Ominis said smugly, returning his attention to his plate.
Eloise just sat there, not really knowing how to react. This time, it was Imelda’s turn to say, “just ignore them. Luckily, we won’t need to see much more of them as the feast’s finishing up.” She wrinkled her nose in Sebastian’s direction, a gesture that was swiftly returned. Even though she had just met the three of them, Eloise couldn’t help but feel happy just listening to their back-and-forth. She did feel a twinge of…something, though, knowing that she could have been with them since their first year, if only her magic had shown itself sooner.
Mountains of dessert started to replace the remnants of the dinner: plum pudding, lemon tarts, cakes…it was more dessert in one place than Eloise had ever seen in her life. None of the students held back at all trying to get their favorites, especially if it was at the expense of another. The atmosphere was electric - everyone was excited to be back among their friends and catch up over everything that had happened the summer before, and Eloise was happy to just be among them.
She reached for a lemon tart, and when she looked up, she saw that Leo was staring at her intently. He looked away as soon as they made eye contact, but the moment didn’t go past Imelda’s notice.
“Do you know him?” she asked, nodding towards Leo. Eloise flushed and looked down at her plate, nodding reluctantly. She knew as soon as they went through role call the next day, everyone would know that she was a Babbit.
“Yes, he’s…er -“
Eloise broke off, grabbing the nearest goblet of pumpkin juice and drinking the whole thing in one go. When she came up for air, Imelda was still looking at her expectantly. Eloise took a deep breath and tried continuing, but… “I’m not really sure,” is all that came out of her mouth.
Imelda furrowed her brow, clearly trying to figure out how that answer made sense and Eloise wasn’t about to clarify for her. Although it wouldn’t be long before it got out that they were siblings, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted these new acquaintances to know about her at the moment. She had had enough pitying looks to last her a lifetime, and she just knew that once they found out she had been a squib…
“Hey Sebastian,” a pretty blonde girl said, leaning towards the group. She shot Eloise a curious glance but quickly looked back at her target. “Where’s Anne? Is she still gone this year? What a pity…the two of you are…were…sewn together at the hip and I was looking forward to finally being the one who gets between the two of you this year.” At this, the girls surrounding her started tittering and she flipped her hair over her shoulder and pouted. “I thought there would be more of a challenge. But if you’re going to be the changed Sebastian again this year…”
“Who’s…” Eloise trailed off as she saw Sebastian’s expression. It had changed into something almost unrecognizable - at least, to someone who had only known him for all of forty-five minutes. He was looking at the girl with a mixture of barely-controlled fury and…something else that Eloise couldn’t quite place. She shrank away from him as she took in his stricken expression.
“She’s still sick,” he said shortly as he stood up. His hands bunched into tight fists and his body was shaking. Sebastian quickly turned and stormed down the hall. They all watched him go in silence; once he left, the blonde girl turned to Ominis.
“Gods, what’s his problem? So what if she misses a few days of school?” She looked around at everyone, pouting. “You all know I’m right. Last year he was a mess but he should be getting over it by now.”
“You always speak before thinking, Victoria,” Ominis said tersely, getting up. “One of these days, it’s going to get you in trouble. If you keep this up, when that happens nobody will be around to help you pick up the pieces.” With that, he strode away after Sebastian.
Eloise blinked and looked around. The rest of the students were starting to get up and slowly move towards their respective common rooms having finished their dessert, and the prefects were starting to herd the first-years along. Victoria laughed weakly and turned to her friends, effectively ignoring Eloise and Imelda as if they weren’t there. “I think the summer holidays have made people extra sensitive this year. I honestly don’t know what their problem is.”
“Come on, then,” said Imelda, shooting Victoria a dirty look. “Let’s head to the dorms.”
Eloise stood up and started following Imelda’s lead. She was parting the students with ease as she walked through the crowd. Her strides were so long that Eloise had to half-jog to keep up with her. “Our common room is in the dungeons,” Imelda said, looking over her shoulder at Eloise. “The other houses are creeped out by it, but they haven’t actually seen it. You’ll see.”
Because of how quickly Imelda strode through the corridors and down the stairs, Eloise didn’t have much time to take in the rest of the castle. She did however realize that they were winding through the corridors in such a way that she would be hopelessly lost if Imelda weren’t with her. The two of them arrived at the Slytherin common room well before the other students due to Imelda’s fast pace. As they entered the common room after saying the correct password - basilisk - Eloise couldn’t help but look around in wonder. There was light piano music playing in the background - Chopin, Eloise thought she recognized it from her piano lessons at the muggle school. Even though the overall tones of the place were cool - blues and greens filtering through the tall glass windows and from the lamps, the checkered marble floors and columns giving off an air of cold elegance - the beautiful rugs and happily crackling fires made it all come together and seem oddly cozy. Various tables and desks were scattered around the space, and comfortable looking armchairs and couches crowded around low tables. Eloise could just picture it teeming with students studying after class or hanging out on the weekends. She knew that it was a place that could finally feel like home to her.
“I tried, Ominis,” came a hushed whisper from near the windows. Imelda and Eloise froze at the entrance to the common room and glanced at each other. “I just can’t do it. I know what you and Anne told me but…”
“Sebastian. Anne doesn’t want you to wallow and waste your time here worrying about her. I know that you’re worried for her. I mean, I am too. You know she’s like a sister to me.”
“You have no idea,” Sebastian interrupted fiercely. His back was hunched over and he was holding his face in his hands. “It should have been me. I can’t live with myself. With this guilt.”
“No, you -“ Ominis cut himself off as the sound of the other students filtering in started to fill the room. The boys abruptly sat up straighter, although they didn’t look at each other. Oblivious to the tension between the two, a group of second-years sat on the sofa right next to them, as they excitedly caught up with each other.
“I’ll show you our room,” Imelda said, turning to Eloise. “It gets pretty crazy here the first night back from any holidays, with everyone catching up. I don’t know about you, but I want to get some sleep! Quidditch tryouts are next week and I already know how exhausting it will be.”
Eloise really was exhausted, and nothing sounded better to her than finally going to sleep. The dorms seemed to be set up so that the stairs going up led to the girls’ dormitories, and the ones going down to the boys’. Imelda explained that it was due to the fact that boys weren’t to be trusted, and the stairs would turn into a slide if any boy attempted to go up them. It wasn’t something that Eloise had even considered, due to the fact that she had just come from an all-girls school, but she flushed at the implication.
As they reached the staircase, they almost crashed into Sebastian. Imelda had been marching towards the stairs with a single-minded determination and Sebastian had been heading towards his with just as much purpose.
Eloise bounced off of his shoulder. She grabbed her own, wincing slightly. He was more solid than he looked. He looked blankly at the two girls before shaking his head and realizing where they were. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I’m just -“ he gave his head another little shake and saw that Eloise was holding her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s fine,” Eloise reassured him. She gave a small smile. “I’ve had worse, it’s really nothing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Imelda. She shot Sebastian a concerned look. “Go to bed. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Imelda shook her head sadly and the girls resumed their path. “Poor boy. He hasn’t been the same since the summer after our third year. I mean, he was always kind of obsessive, but in a charming way. He was on the quidditch team with me, and always really determined to be the absolute best, always working hard to show all of the other students they don’t even know half as much as he does. That sort of thing, you know? It’s not like he was insufferable, his charm drew everyone to him.”
She held the door open and Eloise walked in. It was a cozy circular room, with five four-poster beds. A small fire in the middle of the room warmed the whole place up, and Eloise was relieved to see it. When Imelda had told her that their dormitory was in the dungeons, she had immediately pictured a dark, cold, slimy space. Only one of the beds didn’t have trunks placed at its foot, and Eloise went straight to it. Her trunk had been lost in the dragon attack. She was relieved to see a nightgown laid on top of the bed and a pair of green slippers neatly lined up on the floor; she hadn’t been sure what she would wear.
Imelda sat down heavily on the bed next to Eloise’s and started unlacing her boots. She continued talking. “Then, in our fourth year, he comes to school after summer holidays. Alone. He hasn’t been the same since. Nobody’s quite sure what’s going on with his sister, except that it’s bad. She’s not expected to live much longer.”
“Oh my god,” breathed Eloise. “I can’t even imagine.”
“Me neither.” Imelda shook her head. “He got into trouble left and right last year, there were even rumors of a duel…I don’t think there was a single week where he didn’t have detention. I mean, I don’t blame him, but - he was taken off the team! This year he better not, I can’t afford to lose my best beater again.”
The girls continued chattering quietly to themselves about other topics as they got ready for the night. Slipping into their nightgowns, braiding each others’ hair, and, finally, slipping under the freshly turned bed covers. Eloise turned towards Imelda and simply whispered, “thank you.” Although they had just met, Eloise felt certain in the knowledge that she had just made her first friend.
Imelda waved her off. “It’s nothing. Get some sleep, the first day of classes is always overwhelming. I can’t even imagine starting as a fifth-year.”
With that, she rolled over and soon Eloise heard her breathing deepen as she fell asleep. She stared at the canopy covering her bed for what seemed like an eternity. The low murmurs of the other girls as they came in and got ready for bed slowly morphed into drowsy good-nights, until finally the room was silent except for the steady tick of a clock and their breathing.
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As tired as she felt, Eloise couldn’t stop the racing of her mind. It felt like the last few days had more action than the entirety of her life. Even though banished had, at the time, been incredibly momentous for her, it paled in comparison to finding out that she actually was a witch and had been admitted to Hogwarts. She had used magic for the first time today. The rush of power that ran through her body when she cast spells was unlike anything else she had ever experienced. It just felt right. Like some part of her that had been hidden away had finally made itself known and she felt whole for the first time. She wondered if everyone else felt that same rush, that same desire to know and master absolutely every aspect of magical knowledge. She had been given a gift that until now had felt like a pathetic little daydream and she wasn’t about to waste it now that she had it.
The clock kept on ticking lazily and still Eloise was awake. She eventually got up and after shrugging on a robe and slipping on the green slippers, headed towards the common room. She and Imelda hadn’t spent much time in it earlier, and she wanted to see it at least once without any people, maybe as a space just for herself.
As it was even later in the night - it must have been around three - the fire had been extinguished and the light filtering through the windows had turned an even deeper shade of emerald green. It covered the mahogany furniture with an eerie light, as if Eloise had stepped into some strange underworld instead of the empty Slytherin common room. She trailed her hand along the velvet back of a sofa, mesmerized by the stark contrast of the green highlights and black shadows as her hand moved. Lazily twirling a globe as she walked past, the room silent except for her muffled footsteps.
It was precisely the silence that absorbed her completely. Being alone had always been her favorite thing; there was just something so special about being the only person in a place, feeling as if you were the only holder of some great secret. Eloise made her way towards the tall glass windows as if in a dream, not really noticing anything of her surroundings and yet taking it all in. The feeling of being there.
When she heard the soft voice she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“You couldn’t sleep either?”
Eloise whirled towards the voice, feeling as if her heart was about to burst through her chest. The student - a male - was sitting by one of the windows. Since the only light source was the windows, his face was entirely shrouded in black. Eloise was suddenly very aware of how indecently she was dressed to be outside of her dormitory. The sudden change from complete, eerie tranquility was shattered and she wrapped her robe more tightly around her, keeping her arms hugged around her body.
“Who -“
The boy straightened up, tilting his head back toward the window and, with the aid of the green light, Eloise saw that it was Ominis.
“What are you doing down here, Ominis? You almost gave me a heart attack! You’re sitting in the shadows and I thought I was alone.”
“I could ask the same of you,” he said simply, the hint of an amused smirk gracing his features. “And, might I add, I didn’t mean to scare you on purpose. I thought you were purposely walking towards me. For all I know, it could be the break of dawn and I’m basking in the early rays of the sun.”
Eloise’s jaw dropped open in mortification. She had completely forgotten that he was blind. “How did you know that I was walking towards you?” She clapped her hands over her mouth in horror, the words leaving before she could stop them. What was wrong with her? With her sudden movement, her robes had fallen open again, revealing her nightgown, but she was too distraught over possibly having offended Ominis than continuing to follow the rules of propriety. “Oh Merlin’s beard, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
He just huffed quietly. They hadn’t spoken much at dinner, and Eloise was positive that he was angry with her. Maybe he had only acknowledged her presence because his best friend had seen fit to talk with her. Growing up blind, it would make sense for him to be sensitive to any comments regarding it…her face was flushed with mortification and guilt, and she slowly started backing away. Eloise figured it was better to just end the whole encounter being ruder still by making a hasty retreat, than to put her foot in her mouth once again and risk offending him more.
“No, wait,” Ominis said as soon as he realized she was walking away. His voice was choked with emotion and it seemed difficult for him to get the words out. Eloise froze and looked at him. His whole body was shaking, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or…
Was he laughing?
“I might be blind, but I’m not deaf. In this silence, I would have been able to notice if anyone had entered the room even if they were trying to be sneaky, which you certainly were not. Stay, if you want.”
Eloise hesitated, then took the seat across from Ominis in the window. She nervously smoothed her nightgown over her legs. “Just so you know, you’re completely in shadow. If you hadn’t said anything, I probably would have walked right past you without realizing that you were here too.”
“I’ll choose a better spot to sit next time then, when I can’t fall asleep in the middle of the night,” he replied seriously. If not for the fact that he had just been teasing her, she would have thought that he was really taking what she said into consideration. “You never answered my original question. You can’t sleep?”
Eloise shook her head, then quickly added, “no. So much has happened these last few days…my brain always has a hard time turning off. Especially after a day like today.”
Ominis hummed in understanding, tilting his head towards her. The green light filtering through the water danced over his gaunt features, making his cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes more prominent. His pupil-less eyes glowed eerily in the light. “I can only imagine. You arrived late to the sorting, and your aura was very unnerving as you stepped into the Great Hall. I immediately knew something was extraordinary about you.”
“My…aura?”
“Yes. I might not be able to see, but my wand does it for me. It’s hard to explain but…I can sense the people around me. I can’t make out features, but everyone has their own unique aura radiating from them. Yours is…different.”
Different? It must have something to do with the fact she hadn’t had any magical ability until recently. Maybe it was stunted or…maybe her aura was different due to the stress of the day.
“I saw someone murdered in front of me today,” Eloise blurted out before she could stop herself. Ominis didn’t look surprised by her sudden outburst, he merely remained still as he waited for Eloise to continue. “It was…shocking. A dragon came out of nowhere and just ripped our carriage in half, taking Mr. Osric with it. The worst part is…I’m-I’m shocked because it happened. But I’m not sad. I don’t feel the horror I think I should be feeling, and that is more horrifying to me. When I was lying in bed, the events of today kept replaying in my mind on a loop and I kept on trying to make myself feel the correct emotions. But I couldn’t. Something inside of me is broken.”
Eloise looked down at her hands, fingers wringing and untwisting together in her lap. She tried to force herself to sit as still as Ominis, but it was impossible. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to unload all of this onto a stranger, but he didn’t seem to mind listening. There was silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Eloise peeked at Ominis from under her lashes. The boy appeared to be deep in thought.
“I couldn’t sleep either,” he finally said. “It’s normal for me, though. I also have a hard time turning off my thoughts, especially at night. This little corner of the common room feels like mine, in a sense. I’ve been coming here to think since I was a first-year. Maybe I subconsciously chose this place because, if you’re right, it’s more hidden than the rest. Nobody will see me if they’re sneaking around late at night, and it’s so peaceful.”
“That I can agree with,” said Eloise. “I actually came down here to see what it was like when it’s empty. I don’t quite know how to explain it, but this place already feels like home to me. A far sight better than the place I left behind. Places.”
“If you want me to leave, I’m fine with giving up my hiding place for a worthy cause.”
“No,” Eloise said quickly. “I…I like having you here. With me. It means I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts.”
Ominis smiled and tilted his head, not quite looking at her in that odd way of his. “It’s nice, talking to you. Most people avoid me. I can’t imagine why.”
Eloise huffed in quiet laughter. They sat in silence for a while longer, until Ominis broke it again. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But…am I correct in guessing that you and Leo Babbit know each other?”
Eloise’s breath hitched in her throat. She still wasn’t sure how much of her past she wanted people to know…but she also knew that as soon as the day broke the castle would be swirling with rumors. And, as much as she hated the thought, the truth would come out one way or another. She had been lucky enough so far…her name hadn’t been said at the sorting due to the unusual circumstances. But, come morning, everyone would put the pieces together once her name was called out by a teacher.
She could test the waters with someone like Ominis, who seemed like the sort of fellow who would take it in stride.
“I…like I said, you don’t have to tell me,” Ominis said softly.
“No! No, it’s fine,” Eloise assured him. “It’s…complicated. I would prefer if it never came out but…if the school I was at before is any indication, everyone will know by lunch tomorrow regardless of if I say anything or not.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “My full name is Eloise Babbit. Leo is my brother.”
Ominis showed no reaction. It gave her the strength to continue.
“I was rejected by my family. As the years went by and I still wasn’t showing any signs of magic, I was ignored by my parents in favor of Leo. When my eleventh year came and went without any acceptance letter to Hogwarts, I had to come to terms with the fact that I was actually a squib. Up until then, I had held onto the hope and the day I lost that, I lost everything. I was banished and burned off of the family tree, like I never existed. Until a few days ago, I was learning how to become a perfect muggle wife at one of their horrid finishing schools. My family had already prepared a marriage for me to a prominent muggle family, reasoning that I could at least give them important connections.” She spat that last word out. Even speaking the words was a bitter reminder of the life she had almost led. “Based on Leo’s reaction, he definitely didn’t know that I had been admitted to Hogwarts. I don’t even know what’s worse: if my parents knew and decided not to tell him, or if the fact that I was burned off the family tree means that they wouldn’t have received a notification.”
She stared at her hands again. What was it about this boy that made her want to unload everything to him? Yes, he had asked her about it, but she still felt guilty for talking to him at all. Like somehow, telling him would make it his problem as well.
“If there’s anyone in this school who understands the horrors of one’s family, it’s me,” he said. Eloise looked up at him in surprise. He chuckled quietly, as if he could see her expression. “My family are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Absolutely stark-raving mad, pureblood fanatics. We’ve gotten quite reclusive in the past hundred years or so, and don’t have much contact with the outside world. Your family’s inbreeding resulted in fear of giving birth to a potential squib. Mine, in the form of a useless, blind son who has no interest in continuing their crazy beliefs. I guess you could say we are two kindred souls. Maybe that’s what your aura was trying to tell me earlier this evening.”
“I guess so,” Eloise replied. Both could tell that the other wasn’t saying everything on their mind, but she wanted to give him the same comfort he had offered her and decided not to pry. “Thank you, Ominis.”
He inclined his head towards her and then moved his unseeing gaze to the large stained glass window. They sat there for quite some time, at least it felt that way to Eloise. The passage of time seemed not to exist as she and Ominis sat there, deep inside their own thoughts. Formless shadows danced behind the window, their regular movements helping to calm her thoughts. After what seemed like an eternity, Eloise found herself stifling a yawn.
“It seems your day has finally caught up with you,” Ominis said, smiling softly. “I think it’s best if we head to bed. Hogwarts might be more progressive than the muggle school you’ve just escaped, but if anyone sees us here together it would just further the rumors already swirling around you.”
Eloise nodded her assent and stood up slowly. She hadn’t realized how much time they had spent there until she felt the stiffness in her muscles that only comes from remaining still for a very long time. Ominis also got up slowly, gracefully stretching out his long body in the process. As he stood, she saw him grab his wand out of his pocket, and it began glowing a faint red as he walked. That must be how he gets around, she thought to herself. He did say his wind has a mind of its own.
She followed him and they slowly made their way to the two sets of stairs leading to the dormitories. They paused once they were about to part. “Goodnight, Ominis.”
“Goodnight, Eloise. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or rather, I’ll sense your presence later on this morning.” He gave her a faint smile and then turned to head down the stairs leading to his dormitory. Eloise stood there, watching until she couldn’t see the red glow of his wand anymore. With a yawn, she turned towards her room and soon slipped under the covers, sleep finally coming. Before she fell asleep, she had only the fleeting realization that Ominis had not actually answered her question.
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The title is a link to everything on ao3, but just in case you didn’t catch that, here it is🫶
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echo-goes-mmm · 8 months ago
Text
Silas and Wren 2.0 #1
Masterpost
Next
Warnings: implied past non-con, blood
Silas strolled through the markets. He didn’t venture out into human areas often, except to hunt, and these streets were largely unfamiliar to him.
The market was flooded with smells and scents foreign to him. There was all sorts of human food stalls, and some of them intrigued him. But there was no point in wasting money on things he could only taste and would make him nauseous later. Besides, that wasn’t what he was here for.
Silas went deeper into the crowds, breathing in deep. The scent of human despair grew strong with every step, and at the end of the trail would be his goal.
Vampires did not keep slaves. It was a point of pride that they hunted every night; a valued skill to be able to rule the streets and feed a nest without a single death.
But Silas lived by himself, and in the shadow of a much bigger nest of vampires, ever since his father had exiled him.
His territory was tiny, as to not offend their generosity, and he was tired of being so utterly alone. A companion that could talk and think would be welcome; almost like he had a home den again.
Regular meals would also be nice. A single human could supply him easily without putting him in the sights of the ruling nest.
And he’d be rescuing the human from slavery, treating them well like their masters didn’t. Surely that would be a handsome enough reward for their blood. Merciful, even.
Three birds, one stone.
He pinpointed the slavehouse by scent before he saw it. Despair and dread filtered towards him, as strong as any rancid perfume. It was a disturbing smell, one that made his stomach flip with anxiety.
The building was large, and sounded busy. Chatter and the sound of iron against stone reached his ears. 
A salesperson met him at the door, smiling at first, and then his face fell when he saw Silas’s eyes.
No human had slit pupils.
“Hello, sir! What can I help you with today?” Silas smiled at him, as was polite, and the salesman shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m looking for a companion,” he said quietly, trying to make up for frightening him.
“Certainly, any gender preferences?” Silas hadn’t thought of that. In all his research about caring for a human, he didn’t consider gender. Maybe he’d relate more to a man?
“A man, please.”
“Right this way, sir.” The salesman led him through the warehouse, passing by rows of chained slaves. They seemed organized by category of work, then sex. Interesting.
“Forgive me,” said the man, “but I wasn’t aware vampires had slaves. I don’t mean to imply anything untoward of course.”
“We don’t.”
“I see. Well, here is our lovely collection of bedfellows. I’m sure one will be to your taste- er, preference.” 
Silas’s stomach turned icy. He hadn’t meant sexual companionship. He scanned the row of slaves, all of them chained to the floor by the ankle. They looked miserable. The smell of fear was at its peak here in this awful section.
Now that he thought about it, maybe this was for the best. One less person stuck in sexual slavery. 
Now who would he buy?
Slowly, he made his way down the line of men. They all had different appearances, clearly meant to “appeal” to different people. But it didn’t matter how they looked, Silas was interested in the scent of their blood. It was only fair, he couldn’t buy all of them. 
Even if he still had access to his father’s money, he couldn’t afford it.
___________________
This buyer looked different. Strange. He couldn’t place it until he saw the flash of the man’s fangs. A vampire. 
He’d never heard of a vampire owning anybody. It was usually catch-and-release, right?
The vampire wasn’t looking at them quite like a regular buyer. It was a good moment before he realized the vampire was smelling them.
He shuddered, and the vampire’s gaze turned on him.
___________________
None of them smelled particularly appealing, until he came to the end of the row. This one was small and looked tired. 
Poor thing.
But he smelled delightful, and Silas was interested. However, there was only one way to be sure he tasted as good as he smelled.
He bent down and murmured to the slave. “Just relax. This won’t hurt, I promise.”
The slave looked up at him, his honey-brown eyes wide.
“Would you mind if I took a sample?” The salesperson looked nervous at the request. “Just a taste,” he reassured him. “Not even an ounce.”
The salesman nodded, too terrified to refuse.
___________________
Oh god. The vampire was going to drink from him. 
Please don’t let it hurt. Please, god. 
The vampire cupped his cheek and gently but firmly tilted his head to expose his neck. He screwed his eyes shut.
“Relax,” said the vampire, and he tried his best to obey him. The vampire kissed his neck, a mere brush of his soft lips, and he felt a strange tingling sensation on the little patch of skin. Venom, probably.
He felt the vampire’s cool breath, and then a slight scrape of what was surely the tips of his fangs.
But instead of a stabbing pain, he only felt a mild pressure. A slight tug and some trickling warmth told him he had, in fact, been bitten. 
He gasped as the blood left him, his heart pounding as the vampire swallowed it down.
The vampire pulled away after a moment, licking his lips, and he tried not to flinch at the sight of red on the man’s mouth.
___________________
His blood was even better than Silas could have guessed. Deep and rich, with a hint of sweetness. Utterly delicious.
And if this was how good he was mistreated, how amazing would he be healthy?
He wiped away the excess drops from the slave’s neck, licking them off his thumb. He stood.
“I’ll take this one.”
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