#greenhouse sessions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunder-soul · 3 months ago

Note

hiii cud u pl do a headcanon/oneshot where its a muggleborn reader who smhow ends up befriending the tom riddle who always seems to soft only to her, including tolerating her sassy attitude and its a study session together and they're bantering or summin? i think it wud be nice. thank you!

A/N: Girl I gotchu

･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

Unsaid

Summary: By now you've got a pretty good idea why you're friends with Tom, but sometimes, when it comes up, you wonder why he's friends with you. [GN reader ★ no pronouns ★ Hufflepuff house (but ngl it doesn't really come up u just gotta trust me)] Word count: 1.2k

･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

“I’m dropping out,” you announce, dumping your bag on the table and falling emphatically into the seat adjacent to Tom’s.

Tom, for his part, does not look up. His quill doesn’t even hesitate as he writes in a smooth, unbroken script across his parchment. Instead, he says: “Your bag is on my book.”

You shove it unenthusiastically to the side to reveal the open textbook he’s been working from, and then fix him with a pointed look. Tom is set up in the same little spot in the library as always, his bag at his feet and at least ten other books neatly stacked off to the side of the table. He looks (as Tom always looks) like the poster boy of adhering to the uniform dress code.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong?” you say, slightly put out.

“I would not bother,” he says simply, leaning forward and dipping his quill in a small inkwell in front of him. “I’ve come to accept the inevitability of you telling me all sorts of things I don’t care to hear about, whether I ask about them or not.”

He resumes writing.

You kick his chair leg lightly and his quill skips sharply down the page, leaving a jolted line about an inch long off where he’d been writing the word putrescence.

This finally makes him look up, fixing you with a supremely irritated glare that’s made his whole face go tense.

You lean your elbows on the table and smile at him.

Tom’s jaw works slightly, and he takes a long breath. “What’s wrong?” he asks sarcastically.

“Well,” you say as he puts down his quill and bends to pick up his bag. “In Herbology this morning when we were cracking Wiggentree nuts, Lucy Grollen had this horrible allergic reaction and her feet swelled up so much that her shoes burst.”

“And this affects you how?” Tom drawls, diligently rubbing a Spellfriends eraser across his parchment.

You give him a scandalised look. “She’s my friend, Tom.”

He gives you a very dry look and then flips the eraser over to the purple side. “I hardly think you’d be tempted to leave the school because your friend is allergic to nuts.”

“Well she’s also my greenhouse partner,” you say dramatically, throwing yourself back in your seat, “and because she had to go to the hospital wing I had to finish the rest of the assignment alone, and obviously by the end of class I didn’t have all our nuts cracked so Beery made me stay late to finish them. And that meant that I missed the sign up for the fieldtrip to the Menagerie of Mirabilia.”

Tom throws down the eraser and exhales in frustration. The ink remains unmoved. “You have been talking about that fieldtrip for six weeks,” he says in a clipped tone, pulling his wand from his bag. “And I have been telling you for six weeks that it was going to fill up quickly. Evanesco.”

The eraser shavings on his parchment vanish and leave both of you staring at the tenacious line of ink—which if anything, now just looks a little smudged.

His little comment about the whole six weeks thing has not left you feeling very sympathetic for him. “Wow. You have got to tell me what kind of ink you buy,” you say with a smirk as Tom tosses his wand onto the desk in frustration.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he says hotly, folding his arms and finally looking at you properly as he leans back in his chair. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What happened with the fieldtrip?” he prompts irritably.

“Oh – so as I’m sure you remember, I promised Madeline I’d go with her on the fieldtrip because she’s obsessed with magizoology at the moment, so then I had to tell her I wasn’t going, and she was so upset, and I couldn't stop thinking about it because I felt so bad. So then I was really distracted in Transfiguration and of course Dumbledore notices and asks me to recite the whole definition of Amandation’s Command in front of everybody.” You sigh loudly. “So I can’t do it because I hadn't been paying attention, but then he points to the board and the definition is written right there and I just hadn’t noticed, and everyone laughed at me.”

You cross your arms too, feeling sorry for yourself. “The only solution is to drop out,” you reiterate moodily.

“This is one of your jokes,” says Tom delicately.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes well spotted.”

“You’ve ruined my assignment,” he says, nodding at it.

“You ruined your own assignment. With your callousness.”

Rather surprisingly, Tom snorts a laugh. “I would loathe to be my friend, to hear you describe it,” he says with suspicious ease as he extracts a new roll of parchment from his bag. “It begs the question as to why you persevere.”

“Very occasionally, you do something really nice,” you say, watching him with suspicion. Tom’s irritability rarely fades this quickly. “I just kind of zone out all the bits in-between where you’re weird and sarcastic.”

“Weird and sarcastic?” Tom repeats, lips curling. “Have you been listening to yourself since you sat down?”

“My life is ruined, and you’re worried about an assignment.”

“Your life is not ruined,” he says monotonously as he begins diligently copying over his work.

“I’m upset about this and all you care about is telling me that it’s not a big deal!”

Tom sighs curtly and looks up at you, leaning forward a bit and resting his forearms on the desk. “Your life is not ruined. Lucy Groggen is going to be fine, Wiggentree nut allergies are fairly common and the reaction doesn’t last more than an hour, the worst she’ll have to deal with is buying a new pair of shoes. Beery should never have made you complete a two-person task by yourself and it’s ridiculous that he kept you late because of his own poor class management. If Dumbledore was half the teacher that he claims to be, he might have noticed that you were upset about something and think to ask you about it, but his mistake is made all the more egregious given that he chose to single you out in front of the whole class with what sounds like a very silly little trick. And I wouldn’t worry about upsetting Madeline if I were you, because I signed you up for the fieldtrip.”

He resumes writing without another word. You stare at him, dumbfounded. A full ten seconds passes before you can rouse yourself to speak again.

“You signed me up for the fieldtrip?

Tom’s eyes remain level on his work—he’s writing at lightning speed like he’s trying to make up for the lost time. “You have been talking about it for six weeks. It seemed odd that you failed to show up.”

You look at your bag still lying dejectedly on the table in front of you and attempt to process the glowy, warm feeling spreading up through your chest. “Thanks,” you say blandly.

He just looks up at you with a glint in his eyes about halfway between wry and cynical.

“I feel bad about your assignment,” you announce.

Tom slowly smiles, this time very wryly indeed. “You have certainly changed your tune.”

You grab your bag and pull out your water bottle, placing it emphatically on the desk beside him.

Tom’s dark eyes flick from it to you, and he lifts a brow. “Is this supposed to mean something to me?”

“You have to wet a Spellfriends for it to work,” you mumble, folding your arms and resting forward on the desk.

He stares at you in a sort of frozen state of disbelief. “You mean you let me suffer through all of that for absolutely no reason?” he demands in half-subdued outrage.

“There was a reason!” you protest, smiling at him again. “It was funny.”

He blinks once, and then snatches the drink bottle off the desk, shaking his head. “You are extremely irritating,” he says icily, twisting the bottle open.

“Huh, sounds like a nightmare being my friend to hear you describe it,” you parrot back at him with a grin. “One wonders why you persevere, Tom.”

Tom pauses, and instead of the scathing look of irritation or perhaps a biting remark back, he just looks at you with an unplaceable expression like you’ve caught him off guard.

“What?” you frown, sitting up a little in concern.

Tom blinks slightly and then holds out his hand. “Pass me the Spellfriends,” he says colourlessly.

You arch a brow right back at him, and retrieve the eraser from where it’s been lying discarded for the last few minutes in front of you. “If you were wondering what I meant by the weird part in weird and sarcastic…” you say to him pointedly, placing it in his hand.

Tom silently erases the offending ink stain with a taut jaw and an irascible look darkening his eyes.

“Hey,” you say.

He ignores you entirely, sweeping the fresh shavings off his parchment and setting the eraser aside.

“Hey,” you repeat, reaching out and taking his arm.

Tom’s gaze immediately flashes to you and he goes entirely still.

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. “For the field trip.”

He does not immediately reply. A second later his lips part like he’s going to say something, but they close like he thinks better of it. He blinks, and then pulls his arm from yours to reach for another book. “Are you intending on actually doing work this evening, or was this visit’s entire premise just to disrupt me?”

You roll your eyes, and reach for your bag again with a smile.

･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

#I love putting him in stressful situations #(the stressful situations are all him experiencing an emotion)#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #rom riddle fanfiction #sarcastic reader #confident reader #hufflepuff reader #did it come up? no #I like to think it's implied #ask #request #iwishuknew

414 notes · View notes

isaacarellanesismyhusband · 5 months ago

Text

how the hp boys would react when they find out you have a crush on them

masterlist | navigation

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Harry Potter

Harry's day takes an unexpected turn when Seamus casually mentions that the younger student, who's always been kind and friendly to him, might have a crush on him. At first, he laughs it off, thinking it's just a rumor, but when Ron confirms that he's heard the same thing, Harry’s heart starts racing. He can’t help but replay every interaction with you in his head, realizing there might have been subtle hints he missed. Harry isn't sure what to do; part of him is flattered, and another part is nervous. He’s always admired your kindness and intelligence, and now, knowing how you feel, he becomes more aware of his own feelings. Over the next few days, Harry starts paying closer attention to you, growing more awkward but also more interested, trying to figure out his next move.

Ron Weasley

Ron overhears some third-years gossiping about how you, the girl from his study group, have a bit of a crush on him. He immediately goes red, both from embarrassment and the unfamiliarity of the situation. He's never been great at reading signals, so the thought that someone likes him catches him off guard. At first, he brushes it off, thinking it must be a joke, but when Hermione reassures him that it’s true, he can’t stop thinking about it. The next time he sees you in the common room, he’s noticeably flustered, fumbling his words and trying to act cool, which only makes him more endearing. Despite his awkwardness, Ron can’t help but feel a little pleased, and over time, he starts to warm up to the idea, maybe even considering how to approach you about it.

Draco Malfoy

Draco is lounging in the Slytherin common room when Pansy Parkinson, with a sly grin, tells him that a younger Gryffindor girl has a crush on him. At first, he scoffs, dismissing it as irrelevant, but later, when he realizes it’s you—a girl he’s actually noticed for your sharp wit and surprising bravery—he becomes intrigued. Draco isn't one to openly show interest, but now, every time he sees you in the corridors or during meals, he’s more aware of your presence. He might tease you more, dropping subtle hints to see how you react, trying to gauge your feelings. Though he maintains his cool exterior, Draco can’t help but feel a thrill at the idea of someone like you liking him, and he starts thinking about how to use this to his advantage, or perhaps, how he might actually feel about you.

Neville Longbottom

Neville is in the library when he overhears some girls from your year talking about how you have a crush on him. His immediate reaction is disbelief; he’s never considered himself someone people would have a crush on. Nervously adjusting his collar, Neville tries to focus on his Herbology notes, but he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s always liked you—how could he not? You’re kind, and your encouragement during classes has always meant a lot to him. But now, knowing you might feel the same way, Neville starts to become more confident around you. He’ll blush whenever you’re near but will also make more of an effort to talk to you, even inviting you to study sessions in the greenhouse. Though he’s shy, Neville is secretly thrilled, and the thought of you liking him makes him smile more than usual.

Cedric Diggory

Cedric is chatting with his Hufflepuff friends when one of them mentions that you, a sweet younger student from Ravenclaw, have a bit of a crush on him. He’s flattered, of course—he’s used to a bit of attention—but the thought of you, someone he’s always admired for your intelligence and grace, having feelings for him makes him pause. Cedric is the type to handle this situation with kindness and maturity. The next time he sees you, he’ll go out of his way to be friendly, making sure you feel comfortable around him. He might even drop a few hints that he’s aware of your feelings, just to see how you react. Cedric would be careful not to lead you on if he wasn’t interested, but in this case, he finds himself considering the possibility of getting to know you better, as your crush on him sparks something within himself.

Fred Weasley

Fred is busy planning a prank with George when Lee Jordan casually drops the bomb that you have a crush on him. Fred’s reaction is immediate—he grins widely, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He’s always liked you; after all, you’re fun to be around and have a sharp sense of humor. But now, knowing that you like him back, Fred is going to make the most of it. The next time he sees you, he’s teasing you more than ever, dropping playful hints and watching with delight as you blush. Fred isn’t one to be subtle, so you might find little jokes or pranks with double meanings aimed your way. But beneath the fun and games, Fred’s genuinely pleased and interested, and he starts looking for ways to spend more time with you, always with that signature Weasley charm.

George Weasley

George finds out from Angelina that you have a crush on him, and his reaction is a mix of surprise and amusement. He’s always thought you were a cool person, but now, knowing you like him, he can’t help but feel a bit shy—though he’ll never admit it. Unlike Fred, George is more low-key in his approach. He’ll still joke around with you, but his teasing becomes a bit more affectionate, and he might try to find moments where it’s just the two of you. George is more thoughtful than his twin, so he’ll start to notice the little things about you that he hadn’t before, and he might even drop by your common room to say hi more often. Though he keeps things lighthearted, George’s actions show he’s interested, and he’s thinking about how to take things a step further.

Oliver Wood

Oliver is coming off the Quidditch pitch when a teammate mentions that you’ve been seen watching the practices more often, and that you might have a crush on him. Oliver is immediately intrigued. He’s so focused on Quidditch that he hasn’t noticed much else, but now, he’s paying attention. He remembers how you’ve always been supportive, cheering for the team, and he’s flattered. The next time he sees you, he’s extra charming, asking if you’d like to join the team for a post-practice hangout. Oliver is confident and direct, so he might just ask you outright if the rumors are true, but he does it with a playful smile to keep things light. If he finds out you do like him, Oliver’s quick to make his interest known too, inviting you to more Quidditch-related activities and finding excuses to spend time with you outside of the game.

712 notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 11

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 11

Word Count: 3616

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: For those of you who caught my earlier post, you already know why this chapter is on the smaller side. For those of you who didn't, I intended to add a bit of spicy fun to this chapter, but with 2k (of smut!) already writen and (maybe) another 2k to go, I decided to split the chapter. I still hope you enjoy this one!

Despite Law's lie to Baby 5, you still find five minutes to fix your hair and makeup before heading down to the garden in search of the photographer for the photo shoot. You're only ten minutes late, but Baby 5 curses at Law as if she were a member of a pirate crew. Luckily, she's soon diverted by Sai and you and Law head to the greenhouse for your private session.

Though there's another private session you would much rather be indulging in.

Still, the photographer introduces himself and after exchanging a few words, he starts directing you both in what you can only assume are romantic poses. Yet, the photographer seems bummed and you can't help but feel as if you're posing for a prom photo.

“Let's take five guys, okay? Try to relax a bit.” The photographer says before he turns and starts to fidget with his camera.

Law grumbles and rolls his eyes, clearly wishing to be doing anything else other than this. Perhaps even finishing what you started earlier. You smile at him. “You're too wound up, Law. You need to relax. The faster we give him the photo he wants, the faster we can leave.” He nods and you look at him as you bite your lower lip, deep in thought. “Take off your coat.”

“Why?”

You smirk smugly and deepen your voice trying to imitate him. “Just do as I say, sweetheart.”

Law's chuckle is full of warmth and mirth but his gaze darkens as he sizes you up. “Careful. You're too close to being a brat.” Yet he removes his coat and sets it aside, on top of a metal bench.

“Hmm, you knew what you were getting into before you proposed this arrangement.” You whisper as you size him up, assessing his looks. Then you grin and start to roll up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

“Did I? No, I didn't. Not entirely.” He lets you do what you want, moving his arm to help you and smirking at you.

“What do you mean?” You finish one arm and move to the next one, but your eyes are fixed on his warily. “Are you… disappointed?” You try to ignore the slight tremble in your voice and focus your gaze on the shirt sleeves and not on his amber gaze.

“Not at all.” His hand reaches out, and he tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. “I'm positively surprised.”

“How so?”

“I knew you were special before this, and I knew I wanted to spend time with you to get to know you better. But now I am certain that I want to spend all my time with you.”

You fumble with the sleeves of the shirt as your heart skips a beat and your lips turn into a smile. “I want to spend all my time with you, too.” You whisper. There's a hint of a blush on your cheeks and you can feel them getting hotter.

You can almost feel yourself melt into his gaze, so you take a deep breath, avert your eyes and unbutton two buttons on his shirt, leaving just a peek of his chest piece showing. “Now you look more at ease. Though…” You start as you give him a final once-over, and then reach with your fingers to tousle his hair a little bit. “Perfect. That out of bed endearing look suits you.” You smile sweetly at him. You're not even kidding a little bit. He looks really endearing. “Now me. Fix me up.” You smirk as you stand very still so he can contemplate you.

Law's gaze softens as it travels over your body. You don't feel self-conscious but rather wanted, appreciated, valued. “You’re perfect, sweetheart.” You beam at him but then he places his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. “There's just a tiny thing.” He speaks softly and you arch your brow.

“A tiny thing?”

“Your makeup.”

“What?”

“There's a smudge on your lipstick.” He takes a step forward, closer to you.

“A smudge? Impossible! I just fixed my makeup!” You say, your hand instinctively reaching towards your lips as Law takes another step. His hand cups your cheek and he smiles gently.

“Exactly.” Then his lips press softly against yours and this time it's something new. It's a slow, tentative kiss, where he moves his lips in tandem with yours. It's not demanding or hungry. It's soft and full of promises. It sets something aflutter in your stomach and a maddening pounding in your heart.

Even while your hands travel to his chest and climb his neck, or when his fingers tangle in your locks, clenching your hair, even as you deepen the kiss, you still feel all of it. It’s different. It’s not a kiss fueled by desire, or want, or teasing, it’s a kiss with much deeper meaning. Something far softer, something… real.

You part slowly, both slightly flushed and gazing lovingly at each other. So he felt it, too. The raw intensity of it all, the way it clicked, as if you finally understood that this is not pretence, it’s much, much more.

“Law, is this real?” Your words are barely a whisper, too afraid to break the moment, too fearful that this is somehow a dream of your desperate little heart.

“It is for me.” He says, his hand reaching for your cheek again to place a small caress on your soft skin.

“For me too…” You murmur back with a smile. Suddenly, the world is filled with possibilities, suddenly there is so much more than a broken girl with a hurtful past in need of mending. Suddenly there’s you and him but you’re together, you’ve found each other and you’ll be damned if you let him go.

“Aaaaand that’s a wrap!” The photographer’s voice rattles you both and you’re forced back into reality. “You guys looked so much more natural now. There was no need for directing, these photographs are filled with emotion! Thank you!” His attitude from the start of the shoot to now has turned completely. He loves you both. Before he leaves, he promises to develop the pictures and deliver them to you as part of your prize, and you're actually quite curious as to how they turned out.

When you're both alone again, Law takes your hand in his to lead you to the tents that are set up for the rehearsal dinner. He whispers your name as you lock gazes again. “We'll talk about this later, when we're alone?”

You smile giddily and nod. “Yes.” Even if you wanted to stop smiling, you couldn't. Everything feels far too perfect, far too flawless and you bite your lip hard to check again if this is not some dream.

It's not.

It's reality. And it is perfect.

-*-

The rehearsal dinner is going great. There has been no awkward moment with Doflamingo - he's seated very far away, near the bride - and you and Law have been exchanging subtle touches throughout the whole meal. A touch on the leg, on the shoulder, on the arm, or the cheek. A lingering gaze, a whispered word, or a complicit smile. It's bliss.

Speeches were recited and alcohol flowed freely. The night is still young, and though you wish nothing more than to be excused to your room, so you and Law can have a private moment, it finally appears that Doflamingo has decided to test you both once more.

“Law, princesa, how's your evening going?” He speaks to both of you but his eyes are fixed on you.

“We're fine, Uncle. Everything is perfect.” You smile at Law's words in agreement.

“Wonderful.” There's a long pregnant pause where he keeps staring at both of you, then his grin deepens into something quite menacing. “Law, Vergo wished to speak to you about the business you were discussing yesterday.” Law's brow rises. “Now.” Doflamingo adds.

“Uncle, we're at a party. Do you think it's appropriate to speak of business matters at a time like this?” Law's voice is still cool and calculated, but you can see the ticking in his jaw, giving way to an underlying unease towards his uncle.

“Well, dear nephew, if you were more invested in the company's business and more committed to board meetings, we wouldn't have to practically ambush you so we could talk shop.” The jab is there, and it's also true. So Law curses between his teeth and screeches his chair on the floor to get up. But before he leaves, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“I won't be long. I'm sorry.” He does seem resigned, and though the last thing you want is to be left alone with Doflamingo, you know he has to go. So you assure him you will be fine.

As soon as Law gets up, Doffy saunters to his seat and sits down, crossing one leg over the other with one foot over his knee. He's wearing a light pink suit - which he actually pulls off - with a white shirt but what never ceases to amaze you - even if for the wrong reasons - is his unhinged expression as he pierces you with his red gaze.

“Alone at last, cariño.” He deepens his smile, showing off his canines and you feel that cold sensation on your spine. You're about to be tested again. “I've seen you with Law today. You seem much more connected than yesterday, more at ease.”

Doffy takes a sip of his red wine and you clear your throat before speaking. “Yes, sir. I sometimes suffer from anxiety, and meeting new people always leaves me more anxious than I would like. I'm more at ease today because everyone has been so welcoming.” There, if you lace lies with truth, it becomes more believable.

“Oh, that makes sense.” He agrees easily and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your heart. “Though, there's one slight issue.” He scooches his chair closer to yours in three jerking motions, and leans over your ear with a warm chuckle that makes you cringe. “I know who you are.” He whispers, and then leans back in his chair, his hand covering his lips as if he said something he shouldn't.

Your heart thrums faster against your ribcage. What does he mean? What does he know? Does he know you and Law are in a fake relationship?

Lying rule 101, don't babble! You don't know what he knows, so don't go spilling secrets.

“I'm not sure I follow, sir.” There. Simple, calm, confident.

“Mi querida… darling, darling. Drop the act.” His grin disappears and a menacing scowl overpowers his lips. “When I first saw you, I knew I recognized you from somewhere - or from someone - influential.” A cold shiver travels down your spine, freezing you in the spot. You feared this. “At first I didn't care. But last night it suddenly hit me. I've seen you with the Vinsmokes.” A dry chuckle leaves his lips but it doesn't reach his eyes. “A little background check got me the info I wanted, and boy was I surprised. Ex-fiancée to the Vinsmoke darling? You belonged to Ichiji himself? Who knew?” He gasps dramatically. “I mean: does Law know?”

Your breath hitches and you clench your fists against your lap, opening your mouth ready to answer him, except he doesn't let you.

“I know what you want. You were with Ichiji for influence and money, but something went wrong. So now you turn to Law, who's not so directly involved with the company, but has enough money and influence to satisfy your needs. If you play your cards right with my nephew, he might even grant you the last one you seek: power. All the while, his poor little heart gets broken again. Am I right, princesa?”

He's not right. Thank God, he's not right. Though the fact doesn't stop the tightening of your chest or the dampness on your forehead. You have no control over this situation and it's daunting.

“You are terribly wrong, Doflamingo, sir.” Calm, cool, collected. You inhale deeply and force a cold smile to your lips.

“I'm wrong?” His chuckle sends another wave of unease through your body. “Don't tell me you were with Ichiji for his charming personality?”

You purse your lips and take another inhale, completely ignoring the off-hand commentary. “Ichiji and I met in college, our relationship grew naturally and it had nothing to do with money. Furthermore, I became interested in Law even before knowing who he was. I knew him merely as my father's doctor. He could've been living under a bridge and I would have had no idea. That did not stop the way I immediately felt about him.”

There can be nothing wrong with the truth. Not even Doflamingo himself can find any flaw there.

“That is very heartwarming, darling. But is it really the truth? I mean…” He chuckles, leaning forward again and pinning you under his gaze. You have to force yourself not to move away from his stare. “It's so easy to lie about a relationship, isn't it?”

The implication is there. But what does he know, really?

“Maybe, but I wouldn't know.” You hold his gaze, ignoring the pounding of your heart that seems to be beating in your ears.

“I'm back. Uncle Doffy, you're in my seat.” Law says firmly, his hand resting at your nape, fingers squeezing slightly and caressing in reassurance.

Doffy laughs softly, a manic laugh that starts low and then becomes increasingly louder. “Oh, forgive me dearest nephew. I wouldn't want to take anything from you.” Doflamingo rises, his long legs uncrossing slowly as he deliberately stares at you, licking his lower lip. “Think about what we discussed, princesa.”

When he leaves, Law sits down next to you. The familiar crease between his eyebrows brings a sort of comfort, knowing he's worried about your well-being. Even before he asks, you're already telling him. “Your uncle seems to think I'm only with you for money. Which is good, I guess, because he couldn't be farther from the truth.” Your chuckle comes out forced and weary.

Should you tell him about Ichiji? You must tell him now. Doffy knows, so it's only a matter of time before he uses it against the both of you. And it's not as if it's a big secret, you just don't want to face that kind of judgement.

But then again, since when has Law ever judged you over anything? And the more you postpone telling him, the more it seems as if you're withholding information. And that's not true.

“Law, he also-...”

“There you are, Law. We still need to discuss a few more topics. You said you were just going to the bathroom.” It's Vergo and he sounds annoyed. Law sighs at the same time as you but you nod in understandment.

“I'll wait…” The words leave your lips with a pout and Law waves Vergo off, telling him to go ahead. Then he leans forward on his chair, fingers gripping your chin to lift your eyes to him.

“Sweetheart, I won't be long.” The kiss he places on your lips is, somehow, both soft and demanding. It's as if he's assuring you of his care and attention towards you while, at the same time, making you realise he also needs you. “See you soon.”

The kiss leaves you so rattled that you can't even say anything else before he leaves.

-*-

‘See you soon.’ That was over an hour ago. You know it's not Law's fault, it's much more likely Doflamingo’s doing, just another stupid, silly test to see if you're really with Law for who he is or for something else entirely. But you're damn bored.

You stare at the assortment of paper figures you already made with the napkins - very crooked and ugly-looking things - and sigh for the umpteenth time. Where is Law?

“You look lonely, care for some company?” You flick one of the figures with your finger and lift your eyes to the stranger, one of Sai’s guests you met sometime during the day but can't quite place the name.

“Ah, no, thank you. I'm fine. Law is…” You sigh inadvertently. “Coming back soon. Thanks.”

Lowering your gaze again, you flick another figure, trying to chase the boredom away with silly things. But a screech of the chair next to you as the man sits has you raising your brow.

“Sure, sure. You're so fine that you already used up all the napkins on the table. I'll buy it.” He chuckles softly. “I'll just keep you company, nothing else, how about it?”

“Sure.” You shrug. It's not like he's going to leave anyway. But you keep toying with your paper figures, trying your best to be polite but not engage fully with the man.

“So you're with the bride?” You nod. “I'm Sai’s friend.”

“Yes, we've met earlier.”

“I know. I wouldn't forget you.” You suck in a breath, maybe it's time to get up and search for Law? Or get some refreshments? You don't want to indulge in this conversation anymore. Yet, before you speak, the man leans, placing his hand over yours with a light squeeze. “What kind of man leaves his beautiful girlfriend alone for so long?”

“One who trusts her, and doesn’t need to keep watch every second, because he knows exactly who she’s going home with.”

The man pulls back his hand with a start when Law’s voice fills the space between you. His presence is commanding and threatening but his expression is cool and collected. Law’s amber gaze locks into yours, and though he stands with a hand in his pocket in the most casual of ways, the tension oozing out of him is enough to make the man sitting in his chair start to sweat.

“Look, man, I didn’t mean to disrespect, I was just–”

“Wasting your time. I got it. You can go now, she doesn’t need your company.” Law finally breaks eye contact with you, takes one step closer to the man and stares him down. A fierce intensity in his gaze, even though he doesn’t even slightly raise his voice.

“Alright, I’ll leave.” The man quickly takes the hint and leaves you both alone. When Law’s steely gaze settles back on you, it softens, and so does his expression.

“Was he being an ass?” Law pushes a different chair and sits by you with a smirk while you shake your head. Law is a bit possessive, you’ve realised that. What you didn’t realise was that him being that way makes you feel wanted and needed. It’s in his little touches, a hand to the small of your back, a glare if someone’s eyes linger too long, his intimidating presence to whoever dares approach.

“Not really, though he was starting to be inconvenient.” You sigh and take his hand in yours, gently tracing the tattoos on his fingers.

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long, my uncle…”

“I know, Law. Don’t worry. We have time, right?” Your eyes meet his and all you see is tenderness. When you said ‘we have time’ you meant after the wedding, because you want for that after to exist, does he want the same?

His hand cups your cheek and the warmth that fills you comes from far more than his touch. “All the time in the world, sweetheart.” How can one man consume your thoughts so completely? He’s under your skin, inside your heart, in your mind, he’s everywhere. And you want him there. You want him there forever.

You never felt this way with Ichiji, even when you thought you loved him or that he was it for you. You never felt like you’d lose a part of yourself if you weren’t near him, or the need to constantly touch him. And Law makes you feel that. You don’t mean to compare, but when your biggest relationship was also the worst, the comparisons are inevitable.

Ichiji!

“Law, there’s something that–”

“Law! I’m so sorry to interrupt you both –you look so adorable, I swear, you bring out the best in him, honey– but I need your help with Baby 5’s gift.” Cora interrupts with the best intentions and you can’t help but smile at his cheerfulness. Then he lowers his voice. “Doffy bought her one of those ‘Fabergé Eggs’ and–” Cora exhales with a slight panic. “I dropped the box and I’m too scared to look.”

Your eyes widen at the admission but Law’s amusement is evident. “Really, Cora?” His tall uncle whines with a grimace and Law gets up with a weary smile aimed at you. “The party is dying down, anyway, guests are leaving.”

You look around and notice that the tent has emptied rather quickly. It’s nearing two in the morning and you’re all expected early tomorrow for the wedding, so it’s natural. Cora takes a step back as you and Law get up. Law leans in, his mouth near your ear as he whispers. “Why don’t you go up to our room and I’ll meet you in a few minutes?”

His words send a heat wave down your body as your stomach flutters with the wings of thousands of butterflies. He didn’t say much, but his voice and the gentle caress of his fingers on your hip spoke of hushed promises and yearning.

You nod at him, a small blush already creeping up your cheeks.

This is it.

The night you finally tear down those boundaries, no longer blurring the lines but completely erasing them.

The night you stop pretending and finally make it real.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 12🔞|

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #law x reader #reader insert #the meet cute #reader x trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #you x law #reader x law #Spotify

151 notes · View notes

weasleyreidstyles · 1 year ago

Text

Serendipity

chapter seven

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): this is quite long, canonical voldemort style violence, use of one wizard slur (bloodtraitor), one mention of torture, parental death (minor mentions)

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The weeks flew by after that day in the Room of Requirement. In those weeks, you and Mattheo had gotten nowhere with researching your newfound siphon abilities, as most literature was just a regurgitation of previous works. The two of you grew closer, sessions usually ending in a spontaneous make out or sensual tryst, but he still refused to go any further than that. Refused to be completely vulnerable with you. Safe to say that your days were a lot more interesting, but it was becoming harder to hide your clear feelings from the prying eyes of your curious friends.

Harry had been frequently visiting Dumbledore's office for his own lessons of sorts and he had learned more about Mattheo's father, Tom Riddle, but nothing about why he needed one of Slughorn's specific memories.

The four of you were slaving away in one of the Herbology greenhouses when Hermione brought up the subject of Slughorn's illustrious dinner parties, which Harry had been avoiding.

"There's no way you'll be able to get out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come." she said, wrestling with the weird pod-like creature that you were studying for that week.

Harry groaned as you snickered at his misfortune. Meanwhile, Ron, who was attempting to burst his pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as he could, shared a look with you and said angrily, "And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?"

"Just for the Slug Club, yes," said Hermione, annoyance written on her face.

The pod flew out from under Ron's fingers and hit the green house glass, rebounding onto the back of Professor Sprout's head and knocking off her old, patched hat, causing you, Ron and Harry to let out loud laughs that died out at the Professor's unimpressed look sent your way.

Harry went to retrieve the pod while Hermione carried on, "Look, I didn't make up the name 'Slug Club'—"

"'Slug Club,'" repeated Ron with a sneer worthy of one of Malfoy's. "It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug—"

"You almost sound jealous, Won Won." you teased, using Lavender's cringe-worthy nickname that he clearly abhorred. Despite having a girlfriend, you just knew that somewhere deep down in his stupid, stupid brain, Ron still had feelings for Hermione.

"We're allowed to bring guests," Hermione, who had turned a bright, boiling scarlet, snapped, "I would have asked you, but I don't think your girlfriend would like that very much."

You turned to face Ron as he gufawed at your best friend. "Don't worry Ronald, I'm not one of his favourites either. Teddy's invited me as his plus one for this one, I'll let you know what we're definitely not missing out on." He only glared at you again in response.

Theodore had asked you to accompany him so that he wouldn't be stood alone as Blaise flirted his way through the other pureblood attendees. You had agreed and he gave you free reign of his Gringott's vault to choose a dress from a boutique that Pansy had graciously taken you to. It paid well to have a rich friend or two in this world.

It seemed that everyone knew of Slughorn's party and the chance of going as a guest with one of his members – you and Hermione caught Romilda Vane and her friends whispering about 'Harry' and 'Fred and George' and 'Love Potions' in one of the girls' toilets in the intermission between Transfiguration and Potions, and had watched in shock as they discreetly opened one of the twins' own Love Potions disguised as perfumes between them. You had both warned him to be wary of them, but of course Harry rarely listened to the two of you.

The three of you were walking out of the now-closed library, Ron off with Lavender Brown somewhere, when Romilda came up to him and offered him a bottle of Gilllywater. Hermione's i-told-you-so look had him declining it, but she seemed prepared and had shoved a pink heart shaped box of chocolates into his arms.

"Chocolate Cauldrons." the girl had said. "They have fire whiskey in them. My grandma sent them, but I don't like them."

Romilda smiled before walking away.

"Definitely firewhiskey in there," you say sarcastically. "Give it a whiff before you eat them. Make sure it's not Ginny you're smelling." you say before leaving the pair, laughing at Harry's disgruntled look and making your way to the Ravenclaw common room, intent on researching a book on Mermaids and Siphoners, but you weren't confident that you'd find information that wasn't in the books you'd already combed through.

~∞~

"I'm going with Luna." Harry said the next day. "To Slughorn's party. I'm going with Luna."

"That's wonderful, Harry." you say with a smile. "She really needs a pick-me-up bless her. Some idiot in her year keeps stealing all her things."

The girl came and told you not an hour later, an excited gleam in her pale blue eyes.

~∞~

A few days later, you were waiting outside the Slytherin common room, nervously smoothing out nonexistent creases from the fine silk of your deep green evening gown. You had agreed to meet Theo, Blaise and Pansy here before walking to Professor Slughorn's office together, where the dinner party was being held.

Hesitantly, you knocked on the door to the common room, not knowing the password for it, obviously. The person who answered it made you want to smite them immediately – Greggory Goyle was as nasty as they came.

"What do you want, bloodtraitor?" he spat as he glared down at you, before his beady eyes snapped to your body, namely your chest.

"Not that it concerns the likes of you," you say, voice full of venom, "But I'm waiting for my date to Slughorn's dinner party."

"What poor soul agreed to take you to something as sophisticated as a dinner party?" the boy sneered, his gaze beginning to become an uncomfortable hindrance before your friend's voice rung out into the empty corridor.

"I did, Goyle. Now kindly fuck off." Theodore snapped before his gaze softened on your form. "Tesoro, you look dazzling." his face lit up with a smile as he twirled you under his arm.

"Thank you, Teddy." you flushed, while giving him a once over. "My, my, don't you clean up nicely." he swatted away the hand that patted his cheek.

As you were greeting Theo, the rest of his friends exited the common room, Lorenzo announcing that you'd have to wait for Blaise to 'stop staring at his reflection' as he did. It was obvious that Theo and Pansy were regulars at illustrious dinner parties: Theo wore a tailored suit, with a crisp white shirt and a dark green silk waistcoat and tie (charmed to match the exact colour of your own dress); Pansy wore a sleek dress in a rich shade of deep plum and her face was painted exquisitely with makeup that accentuated her pretty siren eyes, her short black hair styled into a flattering bob. She had come right up to see you in the dress she'd helped you pick out: a dark green silky number that hugged your body in the most flattering way.

She was busy fawning over the way your hair fell over your shoulders gracefully, when the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and you felt a familiar prickle in the back of your mind. You turned to find Mattheo, white shirt partly unbuttoned, hair disheveled and eyes slightly bloodshot as he admired you with no shame. The way his deep, onyx eyes took you in from head to toe made you feel hot all over, and the words he spoke into your mind, made you melt even further. If that was even possible.

You look beautiful, love.

You smile at him in gratitude which was sent in waves to the forefront of his mind – a new trick he had taught you. He nodded his head with a proud smirk which sent flutters right to your core.

You look much better in Slytherin green than Ravenclaw blue, darling. You should indulge more often.

The boy was actually flirting with you and he basked in the sight of your flustered expression.

Pansy was the only one of the surrounding group to see your interaction and she gave you a look that you understood was her way of telling you that the two of you would be discussing this later.

Finally Blaise, who had just stumbled out of the stonewall entrance, said with an exasperated breathe: "Let's get this over with, please. I want to get there so I can leave earlier. If Slughorn asks me about my mother's latest husband one more time I may explode."

You stifle a laugh behind your hand as the tallest Slytherin glares down at you. "Were you not the one making us all wait in favour of admiring yourself in the mirror, Zabini?"

"When you have a face like mine, it must be admired Meadow." he replied with a self-assured smirk. Lorenzo practically guffawed at this, which is when you notice that his eyes were bloodshot like Mattheo's. But he was always a cheerful boy, seeing him laugh was a regular occurrence within this group.

Soon after Blaise appeared, you hooked an arm in the crook of Theo's elbow and the four of you began your walk to the classroom, completely missing the glare that Mattheo was pointing at the back of his best friend's head.

Compared to other offices you'd seen, Slughorn's was namely the biggest. Drapes of emerald, crimson and gold were streamed about the ceilings and walls, creating a tent-like effect about the room and thousands of faeries fluttered about the golden glow of where the apex of the drapes met, the faint fluttering of their wings could be heard over the music and chatter. The moment the four of you entered you'd commented on how crowded and stuffy it was as a live classical band played over the loud conversation from older wizards all around the room.

"I didn't know he invited elders here." you mumble to Theo who hums at you.

"It's all networking. A way to secure future positions in the Ministry." he said, resentment dripping from his tongue.

"And you don't want that?" you ask, staring at his profile, thanking him when he gave you a flute of champagne.

"I wanted to be a professional quidditch player, but my father wants me to follow in his footsteps." he says, before dropping his voice to a mere whisper. "And I mean that in all senses of the word, tesoro. It's not something I particularly want."

You hummed at his answer but squeezed his arm all the same. He sent you a sideways glance full of warmth. You'd almost forgotten about what he would endure during the upcoming holidays; it made you feel inexplicably guilty that you'd be having fun with your friends and family while Theo would be suffering.

Blaise and Pansy had already found themselves at the table of food platters with Daphne Greengrass, which is where you also found Harry, Hermione, Luna and Cormac Mclaggen. You grabbed Theo's hand and dragged him towards them, ignoring his discontent with being within radius of Harry and Mclaggen.

"Hi guys! Mclaggen." you say as you reach the quartet. "Mione, Luna you both look gorgeous."

They both thank you before all four of them frown at the boy behind you. "Oh for Rowena's sake, he won't bite, will you Teddy?" You sent him a pointed look over you shoulder, which had him instantly agreeing, albeit reluctantly.

"Only if they don't bite first." he says, his deep, accented voice dripping with uninterest. "Let's go and dance, tesoro. Make the night a little less unbearable."

You agreed and spent a majority of the night sipping on expensive wine and laughing with your three Slytherin friends, mindful to avoid Harry's looks of something that you couldn't name that he sent your way.

~∞~

The four of you spent hours dancing, only interrupted when Harry asked to steal you away to dance with him, as Luna had become caught up in a conversation with Ginny, Dean Thomas namely absent from her side. While you and Harry were contently swaying, there was a disturbance at the entrance.

You watched in the corner of your eye as Harry's face lit up with a sinister smirk at the sight of Malfoy being dragged into the room by Filtch who had him by the scruff of his robes.

"Professor Slughorn!" he said in his typically slimy voice. "Found this one lurking in the corridors upstairs. Claims he was invited to your party but was delayed in attending. Did you issue an invitation?"

If looks could kill, Filtch would be six feet deep.

Malfoy was glaring at the man with distain and fury as he yanked himself free of the caretaker's grasp, brushing away imaginary flecks of dirt from his rumpled suit.

"All right, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily. "I was trying to gatecrash, happy?"

Filtch was evidently not happy about this, but the look of immense joy that crossed his face sent shivers down your spine.

"You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the Headmaster say that night-time prowling's out, unless you've got permission, eh?"

Slughorn dissipated the situation with drunken ease, inviting Malfoy to stay for the remainder of the dinner party. Harry's face was a picture of bewilderment, mirroring Filtch's one of overwhelming disappointment.

"He looks a bit ill doesn't he?" you say under your breathe as Hermione comes to stand beside you.

"Who?" Harry asked, dumbly. You stared at him with a deadpan expression on your face.

"Malfoy. He does look ghastly pale." Hermione mumbled while you all watched as he chatted away to Slughorn about his grandfather.

"He's up to something." Harry said obstinately. You and Hermione shared a look and simultaneously rolled your eyes.

"You've got to stop with this Harry. You don't know for certain that he's a Death Eater." Hermione muttered, keeping her voice low enough that others wouldn't hear. "It's bad enough that you outright accused him in front of Professor Mcgonagall and Professor Snape."

"I still can't believe you had the audacity, to do that." you say, but Harry wasn't listening to either of you. In fact he followed right out behind Snape and Malfoy when they exitted the room, not ten minutes after the latter's noisy arrival.

"Oh for fuck's sake." you grit your teeth at your friend's stubbornness. Hermione shook her head before dragging you over to where Luna and Ginny were stood, having watched Harry sneak out.

~∞~

With the Christmas holidays finally upon you, you were spending a few days at the Burrow with Ron's family before you floo'd home to your family.

Hermione's lack of presence seemed to lay heavily upon you as you sat next to the empty seat in the kitchen that she'd always sit in. You don't know how she puts up with Ron and Harry without you – a headache was slowly building up in your temples as Ron asked Harry to repeat what he'd heard when he followed Snape and Malfoy out, for the millionth time, as the three of you polished Mrs. Weasley's cutlery.

Finally reaching a breaking point of sorts you snap at the pair.

"If you defy the unbreakable vow, you die. It's a sacred pact, Harry. Are you certain that Snape accepted one?" they turn to look at you as if forgetting you were there.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Fred and George almost convinced me to make one when I was five, but Dad went mental when he found us. Only time he's ever been scarier than mum." he pauses before adding an anecdote about Fred being punished pretty severely, which seems to summon the two giant twins into the kitchen, clad in expensive slacks, making fun of the fact that Ron and Harry were still not of age yet – unlike you. Fred turned to you then, a bright smile lighting up his face.

"Hello gorgeous, how are you coping with these ninnies without Mione?" he had a dazzling smirk on his face, which you would've fallen for once upon a time, had a polar opposite, wicked smirk not taken up your entire mind.

"Barely, as usual. How've you been, Freddie?" you smile up at him as he sits on the edge of the table, leg brushing your's.

Ron dramatically gagged, interpreting this as a flirtatious interaction. This turned the twins' attention onto him once more.

"We've heard through the grape vine that you have a new beau, Won Won." George said with a smirk. Ron turned to glare at you and you held your hands up in surrender. If you could use your legillimens abilities on him, you'd be screaming "it wasn't me, I swear!", but Ron would surely have a heart attack if you so much as whispered into his mind.

"Lavender Brown, was it? That's what Ginny said in her letters. How'd you manage to bag a girl, Ronniekins?" Fred chimed and they snickered as Ron's face went bright red.

"Piss off, will you." Ron mumbled, you and Harry smirked at his discomfort. "She's sweet."

"And here I thought he and Mione would've overlooked their pride and gotten together by now." Fred murmured to you, his breathe hitting the shell of your ear. You turned to face him, finding his alluring blue eyes staring right into your own.

"I believe that means you owe me a galleon...or five. I recall a bet we made at the Yule Ball, Weasley. It's time to pay up." you say, your eyes glinting mischievously as you held out your palm expectantly.

"You and your memory will ruin me, woman." he mutters scornfully, but he gives you a stack of galleons, discreetly nonetheless. You smile victoriously.

"Good to know business is treating the two of you well, Freddie." he smiles and shares a look with George.

"When are you coming to visit the shop, Meadow?" George asks as he uses his wand to slow Ron's polishing down.

"Is that an official invitation, Weasley?" you ask, satisfied with the peace you feel by being in the Burrow again, despite Hermione not being there.

~∞~

Mattheo hates his father with a burning passion. Tom Riddle was a cold, manipulative and tyrannical man who was absolutely not fit for the role of 'dad'. It's ironic, he thinks, that he should have a father who was incapable of feeling love, in all senses of the word. But Tom had loved Mattheo's mother once, in some sick and twisted way. Maybe it wasn't love, but he had a sick devotion for the woman that Mattheo never got to meet. She died after giving birth to the Riddle heir.

When his father was defeated all those years ago, Mattheo was handed off to the first family that bothered to know of his existence. Theodore Nott Senior was even less of a good father, to both him and Theo. But Teddy's mother took on the responsibility of showing them what it is to be kind, loving and compassionate.

That all withered away upon her death when he was only eight years old. It broke him, but it broke little Theo even more to lose the only parent who ever cared for him. Over the years, the well-mannered, inquisitive little boy transitioned into a coldhearted, unfeeling person, but sometimes Mattheo wished that people saw him for who he truely was, instead of the person they painted because of who his father was.

It's the reason he feels so drawn to you, he summises.

Someone who should hate him, someone who should despise him for all that he is, looked past his carefully constructed armour and saw that broken boy within. He wondered how long that would last, when you found out how much of his facade was his true identity. In his eyes, Mattheo was a monster. A carbon copy of his father.

The vast dining room that he found himself seated in felt entirely too small. The atmosphere was ripe with anticipation as the Dark Lord himself stared down at them from his erected throne at the head of the table. Mattheo sat in the seat adjacent to him, as his 'right hand man'. Showing that he would never be anything more than a soldier to his father. Lucius Malfoy sat opposite him, Bellatrix Lestrange in the next seat as she nodded in rapt attention to whatever Voldemort was saying.

The doors to the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor swung open with a slow and menacing creak, inviting Draco to walk in, followed closely by Theo and Enzo.

This is the part of the holidays that Mattheo had been dreading the most.

"Thank you kindly for fetching me our guests, Draco. Please be seated boys, and let dinner be served." Voldemort's hand sweeped through the air and the three chairs beside Mattheo pushed out at their own accord; his friends took the seats wordlessly, Theo seating in the one opposite Bellatrix.

Shortly after, the family's house elves wordlessly clicked their fingers and a feast appeared before them all. Mattheo didn't touch a single piece of food on his plate. Neither did his three friends, his brothers. He was infinitely grateful that Blaise and Pansy were not here. He planned on maintaining that for as long as he possibly could.

After the food, some of which had barely been touched by the hoard of Death Eaters in attendance, had disappeared, Voldemort stood up, towering above them all like an angel of death.

"Now we indulge in my favourite part of the evening." he says, clapping his thin, boney hands together delicately. "Theodore, Lorenzo...please, join me."

He held out his hands, offering the 'stage' to his son's friends. Mattheo had to physically claw at the seat beneath him to refrain from stopping them as they obeyed. Theo's chest shook with uneven breathes and Enzo didn't dare look anyone in the eye. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unprepared to watch his friends submit to the same fate.

"Who wants to go first?" Voldemort asked the two boys, his snake-like voice coated in something akin to excitement and glee. When neither boy spoke up, he slammed a hand to the table, causing everyone in near viscinity to flinch. A vision of pure psychotic rage paints the monster's face.

"Fine." he snapped. "Mattheo, my son, come up here please."

Mattheo schooled his features and locked any thoughts of his friends, of you, up tight. When he was within reach of his father, Voldemort caressed his shoulders, strong from years of relentless Quidditch training, and whispered, his voice a mere hiss as he spoke in the tongue that only the two of them, and Harry Potter could understand.

Choose. He whispered. Who will go first? Choose and I'll spare you my wrath later.

Mattheo didn't know what to do, he was crumbling in front of his father's loyalist of followers, who were snickering and whispering amongst themselves. The insurmountable feeling of guilt festered in his stomach, a sick feeling persisting in his gut. How could he subject any of his friends to this?

CHOOSE! Or I will hunt down anything you hold dear. That is a promise, boy.

He couldn't let his father know about you. He knew the moment he discovered your abilities, Voldemort would seek you out and trap you with no hope of escape and use you for his own power hungry means. He couldn't let that happen.

"I'll go first." Theo's voice broke through his inner turmoil and Voldemort's sinister smirk travelled to his best friend's face. Theo was masking his terror well, but Mattheo saw right through him. Enzo visibly sagged in relief, no matter how short lived it was. He straightened when Mattheo entered his mind.

Don't show weakness. It'll be over soon, I promise brother. I'm sorry.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod. His features schooled into masked indifference.

"Theodore, my boy." Voldemort crooned. "What a good example you set for our young recruits. So...eager." a dig at Draco, who was yet to make headway in his task. "Come."

He beckoned Theo with a single come-hither motion. Theo moved with poised grace and knelt before the Dark Lord, staring up at the creature with stoney eyes. "Just like your mother." he tutted, and Mattheo clenched his fists tightly, fury painting his veins in vibrant fire. "It's a shame, truely."

Voldemort took hold of Theodore's left arm with bruising force but did the opposite of what Mattheo expected. "Mattheo, come. Since you failed to choose, you will do the honours for me. Mark him."

He began to protest, but Fenrir Greyback was behind him in seconds, pushing him to the ground with brute force. He struggled and fought until his father held a hand that physically stopped the fight with his magic.

"I won't do it." Mattheo spat. "No."

Voldemort's head contorted the way a snake's would when agitated and he shot a singular curse at his son with no hesitation.

Mattheo writhed as the effects of the Cruciatus curse overtook all his senses. Consumed in his agony he failed to acknowledge the sound of his best friends' grunts and screams as their skin was branded with the skull and snake of the Dark Mark, identical to the one festering on his scarred left arm.

There was no saving them now.

But at least Blaise and Pansy were safe in their own manors, not privvy to the price he would eventually pay in exchange for their own freedom and safety.

~∞~

hope everyone had a lovely christmas and a happy nye🫶🏼 thought i'd give you a long chapter by delving into a mattheo pov ;)

i love my degree but sometimes psychology makes me want to rip out my hair🙃🙂

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @topguncultleader @gimalo135

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #blaise zabini #harry potter #fred weasley x reader #hermione granger #ron weasley #pansy parkinson #enzo berkshire #serendipity series

618 notes · View notes

moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown · 5 months ago

Text

As much as I hated the Lila/five pairing just on character stand points and the fact five and Lila would honestly never do that to Diego, like come on, but like if Ritu Arya was looking at me and laughing like she did in the like montage of them moving through the timelines and was trying to make the best of it by being excited about gumballs, I would end up falling in love with her just as fast as five did. Like we would all fold and fall in love with her in like .2 seconds. And don’t you even try to deny it, look at this beautiful woman and tell me you wouldn’t be heart eyes at her

Now my opinions on how they could have done their whole thing below:

Do I wish they had made it a ‘brother-sister companionship, as two people who truly get what the other has been through and are each others wobbly support system’ yes that would have been amazing, maybe give five a long term girlfriend in the 6 years, one who he’s having trouble connecting with because he’s been through 3 end of the worlds and 45 years alone and then the commission stuff. And in the 7 years Lila and five are trying to get home, they both connect with the other on how they feel about it all and five helps Lila understand Diego more by explaining why he is the way he is, and Lila helps five understand how to open up to his partner, and sure if you want them to kiss for whatever reason, make it like a

“Yeah that was weird right? I thought it was like a thing we had but yeah let’s never speak of this, and we do not tell Diego, I don’t need him trying to stab you” and then have a lil laugh session. And maybe five hides the notebook cause he kind of likes the life in the greenhouse but the fight is more

“I have children who need me! You have a girlfriend who loves you! We have to try.” And five being so tired of the running to save the world gets on the train, goes home but as they blink to the house five wants to go back to that peaceful world, of no running of safety in a bubble. The whole explanation of they were lost for 7 years happens, five maybe is still a bit of a dick because like emotions and things. We learn what’s happening with Ben and Jennifer.

The whole store fight happens

Maybe he takes his partner maybe he doesn’t but he ends up blinking back to the subway platform again and then we get the meeting with the other fives, we understand that the end has to be a full sacrifice of the siblings.

Five returns to the hotel, and everything continues, Lila and fives partner go to the subway, but both of them get off at the last minute. And five finds them and his partner who has been with the siblings this whole time or most of the time just shrugs cause five is what she wants and she doesn’t wanna be in a timeline unable to remember him, idk you can make something up but they all go back to the hotel, and the ending happens, but five holds his partners hand and she just smiles at him as they are erased from everything, and yeah would it be a little odd? Sure.

But it would be better then what they ended up doing which was five hurts his brother and dies feeling alone and used.

They could have had five and Lila end up romantic but turned it into something different. And they realize it’s not a thing they ever wanted really it’s more they were stuck together for so long emotions got a little hazy.

Give five someone, but don’t give him someone who is already someone else’s entire heart.

Diego and Lila have 3 kids together *4 if you count Stanley as a figurative son*

Five deserved his own person, like Luther deserved to have sloane, and Allison deserved to have Ray, Viktor deserved more time with sissy, and Klaus with Dave. You don’t have to pass one around to the others just because she’s still there. You can give us a new person for five. It’s not even the weirdest thing this show has ever done -Klaus having a cult cough cough-

They had a way to do this, and they just picked the worst timeline train to stop on.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #adian gallagher #lila hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #the brellies #brellies #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #season 4 #tua s4 #tua season 4 #umbrella acedmy #viktor hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #sloane hargreeves #luther hargreeves

265 notes · View notes

miasmaghoul · 5 months ago

Text

Afternoon Delight

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Contains: a lunch date, complete with dessert. ft transmasc dew (use of cunt/clit/dick for his anatomy)

Aether sighs as his phone buzzes against his hip, tossing his pen onto the pile of papers in front of him. It's been a frantic morning in the infirmary, lots of running and putting out fires, and he'd finally had the chance to get to his charting. It's a little after 11am, almost an hour until his well-deserved lunch break, and the last thing he needs is another surprise emergency.

Thankfully, this text is a different sort of surprise.

D: come to the wing on ur lunch. got something 4 u.

He smirks at the screen, sending a quick thumbs up and sliding his phone back into his pocket. It's the third time this week he's gotten that same text from Dew, and he can't say he's upset about it. The little ghoul has been on his ass about eating better since they all got back from tour. Dew discovered that he'd been living off of protein shakes and caffeine during his shifts, and to say he wasn't happy would be an understatement. Since then, whenever their schedules allow it, Dew has been making him lunch. Now, a few times a week, Aether finds himself presented with a ridiculously elaborate meal and has the pleasure of eating it with Dew at his side. He tries not to let his mind wander as he goes back to his paperwork, stomach already rumbling in anticipation of finding out what's on the menu today.

The next 45 minutes pass in slow motion, he swears it. The second the clock hits noon he drops his pen, tosses his stethoscope on top of the stack of folders still waiting for him, and breezes out the office door. He makes it to the lobby before anyone catches him, and when the Brother behind the small intake desk waves at him Aether hold up one hand.

"I'm on lunch," he announces. "Whatever it is, leave me a note. I'll see it in an hour."

Aether strides into the hall before the man can answer, can feel him gawping at his back. If it's urgent, someone will call him. Right now he's focused only on the walk to the kitchen, finally letting himself think about what Dew might have waiting for him.

A few days ago it had been homemade pho with chicken and all the fixings, fragrant broth piled high with veggies and herbs pilfered from the greenhouse. Aether had eaten two bowls and part of a third, had gone back for the second half of his shift food drunk with his pants unbuttoned. Dew had chatted with him the whole time, munching on a bowl of grapes while Aether chowed down, face lined with both obvious amusement and something sweeter. He'd reached over to wipe a splash of broth from Aether's cheek and earned a kiss to the back of the hand for his troubles. Dew had accused him of being a sap, and Aether had not argued.

He groans when he finally reaches the door to the ghoul wing, the scent of something savory and delicious flooding his nose the second he enters. Aether floats towards the kitchen like a cartoon character smelling a freshly baked pie, rubbing his growling stomach as he rounds the corner into the common room.

"What smells so -"

Oh. There's no one here. That's a surprise, Dew has always been waiting for him at the dining table on days like this. Instead, he sees a lidded container sitting at the end of the island, a small piece of paper resting on top of it. Aether frowns as he shuffles over to it, snatching up the note bearing his name. Maybe Dew had gotten called for a last minute practice session or something. He tries not to be too disappointed as he unfolds the paper, but can't help but feel a little put out that Dew hadn't said anything. He peeks into the container, but condensation clinging to the inside of the lid obscures its contents. His attention returns to the note, and Aether's mood lifts almost instantly.

Made your favorite, it reads.

That would mean pork and veal meatballs with spinach, braised in a slightly sweet tomato sauce, served over parmesan polenta and topped with fresh ricotta. Aether can't believe he'd do all that for a lunch, of all things, but when he cracks the lid he sees he's right. It's still hot, can't have been in the container for more than a few minutes, and Aether tries not to drool down his chin while he goes back to the note.

Dessert's in your bedroom, it continues in Dew's scratchy hand. Go eat it first.

It's physically painful for Aether to shut that lid, but he manages. He tosses the note back on top of it as he turns on his heel, rushing into the hall and digging his keys out of his pocket. He can't imagine what Dew left for him, but it must be good if he'd included it in his note. Aether singles out his bedroom door key just as he turns the final corner, making a beeline to unlock the last room on the left.

Imagine his surprise to find it already cracked open. Dew must have been in a real rush, that isn't like him at all. Aether shoves his keys back into his pocket, pushes the door open, and in the center of the bed -

"Oh."

"Finally," Dew sighs, smirking, "I thought you'd never show up."

Aether can't get his mouth to close as he takes in the sight before him. Dew's in a t-shirt and socks, but that's it. Reclining against Aether's pillows, casually regal, with one hand up his shirt and the other between his spread thighs. He can see two of those long fingers working, and Aether's stomach cramps when he hears the slick sound of Dew pumping them in and out of his already flushed cunt.

The little ghoul slides them out, spreading dusky lips so Aether can get a good look at his creamy hole and plump little dick, and Aether's cock gives a mighty throb.

"Gonna have your dessert?"

Dew clenches around nothing and Aether's head spins. He stumbles towards the bed and Dew huffs out a chuckle, tugging at one of his nipples. They're stiff enough to poke through his shirt, one of Aether's favorite sights, and he licks his lips as he crawl up the mattress. He knows he's doomed when Dew raises those two fingers, stretching his slick between them as he brings them to his lips.

"I promise it's nice and sweet," he coos, tongue poking between his fangs. "You're gonna want a taste."

Dew presses those shiny digits inside with excruciating slowness, eyes rolling back at the taste as a raspy moan escapes him. It's exaggerated, a show, and Aether has to roll his hips against the blankets as he drinks it in. He's not even fully hard, not yet, but he can feel a sticky spot forming against his thigh regardless. He gets his hands around Dew's thighs as the little ghoul fingerfucks his own mouth, spreading him wide and damn near whimpering when those skinny hips rock upwards.

"Eat up, big guy," Dew lilts between pumps of his fingers, other hand slipping out from under his shirt to get a nice handful of Aether's hair. "I know you must be starving."

Dew arches off the bed when Aether dives in, lapping at his pudgy clit with too-rough strokes that he knows the little ghoul adores. A pair of sharp heels dig into his back, urging him on, and as the glorious taste of Dewdrop fills his mouth Aether has a feeling there will be a stain soaked into his khakis by the time he's done.

Dew will never let him hear the end of it, and Aether won't mind it one bit.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aether/dew #aether x dew #dewther #transmasc dew #i just love them so much you guys can you tell

176 notes · View notes

victorluvsalice · 2 years ago

Text

As the morning wore on and the holiday officially started, the chores around the farm continued --

-->Alice, upon waking up from her wolf nap, hit the easel to make a sad painting -- I'd noticed some sad specters in the greenhouse earlier, and thought maybe they'd appreciate a painting that matched their emotional state. By the time she finished, though, the little blobs had vanished, so I just had her keep it in her inventory for later. Never know when you might need a specter gift! I then sent her to give the chickens a bit of feed before she ended up having a bad conversation with Guidry (not pictured, but trust me, he was at the grill again making herbal stuff) and needed to head upstairs for a bit to clear her sadness with a bit of under-covers crying and a comforting hug from Kelly. :( Once that was done, though, she was in the right headspace to submit her latest completed book, "Puns Of The Gnat," to the literary digest! So that's nice for her. :)

-->Smiler, for their part, changed back into their normal form, started the laundry (throwing a daisy into the new additive tray to help freshen things up further), then got sent back to the robotics bench to continue making mechanisms until they got shocked again. XD It was then THEIR turn to take care of the chickens, spreading around more feed and playing with one of the new chicks to make sure everyone had enough attention. :) Honestly rather cute, isn't it?

-->Victor, of course, ended up in the greenhouse in his pajamas, teaming up with Elmer to tend to the various plants. . .well, in theory. In practice he kept trying to wander off and eat fruit pie and stuff. Victor, I know you have robotic help now, but you need to do SOMETHING to help keep your plants alive! Though, admittedly, I ALSO got distracted around this point by noticing all the bugs around Alice at the mailbox after she submitted her book, and remembering "oh, hey, All Bugged Out comes with a custom 'Likes/Hates Bugs' preference -- I need to set Victor and Smiler as liking bugs!" So I hopped into CAS and did just that. :p Nice to have it official after forgetting for so long!

-->Oh, and Kelly chased her tail on the counter by the grill. This is very important information. :p

Anyway, after setting the "Likes Bugs" preference for Victor and Smiler, Alice and Smiler insisted on joining Victor in the greenhouse to share a bit of the Party Spirit of the holiday. I allowed this because, yeah, they did need to fulfill that tradition -- and after the Victor/Smiler kisses earlier, I needed my Victor/Alice kisses too. :) However, there was still plenty to do before they could celebrate the holiday, so I sent them off to finish the chores while Victor finished up in the greenhouse (though, uh, as it turns out there was nothing to harvest -- for whatever reason, none of the plants fruited except for the glow orb) and TRIED to tend to his bees. You, uh, you can see how that went. XD Don't worry, Victor, just apply some mite treatment and they'll be right as rain!

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #valicer #yeah Alice finished up her sad painting JUST as the specters despawned in the morning light #but if any more appear she is ready #hopefully they like her art more than Victor's!#and yes Smiler playing with the chicks is very cute :)#I mean I need to trade away some of these new roosters and hens but #still very cute :p #and yeah greenhouse was very weird this play session #I suspect me going into CAS to set Victor and Smiler's bug preferences is the reason for the slight reset?#I did get a pop-up about Wonderful Whims 46 being installed afterward sooo #well given how much produce the gang has I think they can stand having one missed harvest :p #meant I could get them out of the house that little bit sooner frankly!#and yes I will continue to update you on the adorable goings-on with the pets #it is my duty #queued

0 notes

mrshowlettsgarden · 2 months ago

Text

Welcome!

─➭ My name is Professor Kaya Howlett! Below you’ll find different paths (stories) through the greenhouse

─➭ This is purely about James “Logan” Howlett/Wolverine only blog because he is finally getting the recognition he deserves (I’m curing my childhood crush addiction)

─➭ Mutants over the age of 18 can read only! NO MINORS!!

─➭ fem!reader only

─➭ All plot lines/stories belong to me! I DO NOT authorize plagiarism!!

─➭ request: closed since 11/14/24 (catching up on requests)

─➭ prompt list

Logan Howlett Masterlist:

─➭ y/n or reader's mutant powers are controlling plants/communicating with them in all stories

Series:

❀ The Day We Met: the one where the following series of events the lead up to how Logan Howlett/Wolverine decided to stay at the X-Mansion after meeting a plant-loving professor. see and experience how hard and in love these two grow to be over time and how far they’re both willing to go for each other.

Drabbles/Oneshots:

❀ Cherry Kisses: the one where he gets distracted from your ranting - wife!reader, fluff, make out session

❀ Expressing His Love: the one with how he shows his love for you - fluff, logan in love

❀ We're Just Friends?: the one when you realized it meant more to him that you assumed - prompt #7, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, friends to lover's trope, suggestive in the end

❀ Hold My Hand, Please: the one where you get anxious, and he notices - prompt #11, professor!reader, very mild anxiety, comfort, soft!logan

❀ Tell Me Who Did It: the one where you got hurt by accident - prompt #8, wife!reader, fluff, protective!logan, bruises(?)

❀ Feelings and Peaceful Habits: the one when one small moment turned into a healthy habit - prompt #5, fluff, friends with feelings

❀ Imaginary Concerts: the one when Logan comes home to an amazing sight - lumberjack!logan, prompts #14, non-mutant au, tooth-rotting fluff, abrupt ending(?)

130 notes · View notes

ilovedagain · 2 months ago

Text

A short story about Damian Wayne and what colors mean to him.

"Maybe we should speak in a simpler way," the therapist said to the artist. After thirty minutes of stony silence, she was still trying to get the artist to say a word. "Talk to me about colors. What does blue mean to you?"

The artist's first thought was Richard. A man in black and blue who flew through the navy night sky, untethered by gravity. Skin mottled the same black and blue underneath his clothes. He tried to hide from everyone, burying his hurt deep. As if, perhaps, if he couldn't see it, others wouldn't see it too. He would guard his emotions, guard others—the fool—but he wouldn't guard himself.

"Guardian," the artist finally said about blue. He could talk about colors. He re-crossed his arms for the third time, aware of how obvious his discomfort was but unable to help it.

He knew how to face judgment, harden his heart and list his failings to superiors. But the therapist was nonjudgmental, asking him about colors, and he never learned how to guard against someone without ulterior motives.

"What about yellow?"

The artist swallowed. Yellow was the color of the cape he tried to steal from a boy who needed it as much as him. It was a flash of brightness in an unforgiving world where he had to fight dirty and vicious to earn his place. At least, that was the world before everything changed. Before the world softened around the edges and suddenly he was the dark, unforgiving one.

"Regret."

The therapist hummed. A soft, melodic sound beneath the crashing waves in his ears. Maybe she could hear how loud his heartbeat was because she didn't push him to elaborate. "Pink?"

The artist almost smiled. Pink was the tongue of his cat, stuck out in her sleep.

"Cute."

Unlike him, the therapist didn't hold back her smile.

"Black?"

That was an easy one. The color of mystery. The color of the void in his life; the empty space beside his mother. That void captured his younger self's mind, always wondering what the void was like. What it would make of him. The hard part was saying aloud, to the therapist, what it meant to him.

"Father," he said, and immediately regretted his honesty.

She nodded, not making a big deal of it.

"Red?"

The artist exhaled deeply. He thought of many things. The red of his eye-veins when he was stressed. The red blotches of blood blooming like roses on a white bandage wrapped and wrapped around a head wound, vaguely bouquet-like. The red-chested robins he found in his father's gardens and fed seeds as he sketched their innocence.

The red helmet of a man, who was really a boy, desperate and different from his family. Living despite all the odds saying he should be long dead by now.

"Life," the artist said. He let his arms drop, suddenly drained like a nurse had drawn a liter of his blood.

"Green?"

The artist froze. He stared at the therapist, wondering about her angle. Did she know where he came from—his hometown and its lifeblood? Was this the goal of her little game of colors, how she would finally glean his thoughts about his childhood home?

When he was a young boy, in a kingdom of sand and gold, green was everywhere. The green fields in a greenhouse of extinct plants. In the green eyes of his mother and grandfather, the very same eyes as his own. And in the green pools that restored life, a miracle he beheld almost daily.

He would stand before those miracle waters, anxiously waiting for his loved ones to emerge, contemplating mirages and how it must be a lie to restore life after death. And yet, his pets had survived a plague, his mother had survived a stab wound, and his grandfather had survived cancer. He was a child who believed he was lucky.

"We're finished here." He stood and left, fifteen minutes before the end of the session, disregarding the therapist's soft-spoken plea to wait.

Richard greeted him in the waiting room with a smile that vanished when he saw his face. He sprang to his feet, abandoning the magazine unceremoniously on the chair, and matched Damian's brisk pace out of the building.

"What happened?" Richard took a shaky breath when Damian ignored him in favor of speed-walking to the parking lot. Richard placed a hand on his shoulder as they reached the car. He bent his head to meet his eyes, but Damian stubbornly turned his head away. His eyes were so, so blue. "Dami, what happened?"

Damian knew, and he knew Dr. Dinah knew, that refusing to discuss that color spoke volumes, more than anything he had said during the session.

"Home," Damian whispered, feeling like a child crying on his first day of kindergarten. "Please, I just want to go home."

They didn't converse during the car ride home, though Richard stole glances at him, his unspoken words palpable in the silence. Damian fled to his room and spent dinner there. He was too restless to sleep and too exhausted to study. Tugged between the urge to fight and to freeze.

Like how all roads lead to Rome, he ended up painting. He set up an easel taller than himself and began mixing colors until he had every shade of green. He thought about home. His old home, the one in an unforgiving world where death was both constant and impossible, where pain was as abundant as gold, but at least the world made sense. The strong survived, and the strongest conquered. They even conquered death.

The scene he painted was a view inside a tower. Stone walls stretched up into infinite flights of stairs, with assassins lined up in rows on each level. The pool at the bottom cast a thick, green hue over the darkness. But the pool was an afterthought; the focus was on the walls of the tower.

He knew those walls well. They were made of bulging rocks that lay unevenly. When they were bathed in a green haze, Damian couldn't help but think they resembled cancer cells under a microscope. And that was precisely how he painted them: a tower with walls like tumor cells, splotches of assassins in the darkness, and the gaping green pool at the bottom.

Poison. Green is poison.

76 notes · View notes

therabbitthatpostthings · 5 months ago

Text

Learning Czech for my Arcane fics. Russian for the YOI fics. Spanish for the Voltron fics and French just cause. Call me Mr. Worldwide. In all seriousness, half the languages I’m learning are just because I’m tired of looking for shows with subtitles.

Hurt/Comfort, slight ooc, thinly veiled venting session

(Masterpost)

✒︎⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆𖡼𖤣⋆ 𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊⋆✩₊˚

“Um, Councilman Talis?” Her meek voice echoed off the laboratory walls. It was a stormy afternoon. The crackling lighting illuminated the walls. The room was grand, dark and quiet. The door creaked behind as she approached the work bench. “C-Councilman…”

“He’s gone.” A voice cut through. She turned over to find the other scientist hunched over his desk.

“Oh, I was actually looking for you Mr.Viktor..sir…”

He did not look up. “Yes, what is it?”

“Um, Assistant (L/N) is still in the greenhouse. I’m heading home and I was hoping you could check on them at some point.”

That caught his attention. You had today off, that’s what you told him at least. Viktor sat up, bones cracking into place as he stretched. “Yes, thank you. I will go to them before I leave today.”

She sighed in relief, “Thank you so much! It’s been a stressful week for us all.”

“Did something happen at the hearing?” He asked before she could leave the room.

Worry built up in her silence. Concern in her voice she asked, “Were you not informed?”

✒︎⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆𖡼𖤣⋆ 𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊⋆✩₊˚

It’s such a shitty day for rain. You spent the last five hours cleaning the greenhouse, taking notes on fungal growth and angrily writing sticky notes for your morning shift colleagues. Notes you didn’t have to write since you would most likely be back here to do more work anyway but, maybe the thought of you not coming in would evoke some sort of productive reaction.

Some called it unnecessary. But they weren't botanists. They didn’t work at Piltover Academy. They weren’t on the cornerstone of something revolutionary.

You were. Well, you were.

It was a bitter feeling to wash down but you did nonetheless. You pushed aside the negative thoughts when you heard footsteps coming towards you.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Viktor said.

You spared him a glance before going back to your sticky notes. “Funny, I was gonna say the same thing.”

He took a few steps, towering over your crouching body. He eyed the myriad of colorful notes lining each individual planter and pot. “Why didn’t you tell me you came in?”

“Did it matter? I thought I’d be done by now but of course! No one does their job but me around here.” Your dismissive tone didn’t do much to sway him. He still stood behind you, watching you work. “Who told you I was here?”

“That’s not important-”

“It was Reecee wasn’t it.” You groaned.

“It doesn’t matter who told me. You’re here and you're upset.” He stated.

You scoffed, “I am not.”

“(Y/N).”

Of course you couldn’t hide your destestion from one of Piltover’s Finest, much less your boyfriend.

“Tell me what happened.” He urged.

“Didn’t Reecee tell you?”

“She said you had a meeting.”

“A meeting?” You said with a disparaging smile. “I had the meeting today.”

Viktor was well aware of “the meeting”. You had spoken about it at length ever since you were students. This was your Hextech. Your years of studying and research to get this meeting. Yet here you were, hunched over little sprouts on a cold rainy day.

You had a pained smile as you turned to face Viktor. “They didn’t even care. Years. Years of testing soil in the Undercity to clean the air, and they didn’t. Even. Care.”

Your voice was shaking. Your smile was dropping. Tears built up in your eyes. You could hear the committee’s voice clear as day.

“It’s just not viable.”

“We don’t have a large enough…overview of the Undercity’s layout.”

“The experiment could damage the already established ecosystem.”

Like they gave a shit about the ecosystem. Like they gave a shit about the Undercity!

“I was so desperate that I even said you and Jayce would back me up! It didn’t matter. They didn’t care! You know who did get a meeting with the higher council?! Ian-fucking-Rottmeiser!” You launched the notepad against the greenhouse wall, the looser notes flying up in the air. Truthfully, Rottmeiser wasn’t undeserving. In fact he worked hard on his proposal to integrate more plant life into Piltover. But that was just it. Piltover. He wants to help Piltover. They all want to help Piltover. It’s always Piltover.

“So now I’m here, doing my job. Cause that’s all I’m good for I guess! Just another Lab Assistant.”

Viktor pulled you into his arms. Your hand bunched around his sweater as the tear overtook you.

“It’s okay miláčku,” Viktor’s soothing hand rubbed your back.

“I don’t understand…I worked so hard…why not me…” You cried. From the moment you were born you were unlucky. Anyone born in the Undercity was unlucky. Your father was unlucky and drank contaminated water. The rest of you survived until your mother died on the Bridge of Progress. That just left you, on the other side of the bridge, separated from your remaining family in Piltover. And you studied everyday. You made it into the Academy, you climbed the ranks. Not a day went by without you working towards your goal. To improve lives, to save people! You spent week after week with your siblings, collecting samples in the Undercity. Risking your lives, sneaking in and out of Piltover, all to this meeting. And they didn’t care.

“How am I supposed to face them again?! I failed Viktor! I’m a failure!”

Still Viktor held onto you. Painful wails left you until your throat was raw. You unclench your fist as you relax against him. Shoulders slouching in defeat and Viktor’s warm hand never leaving you.

You sighed with a tired rasp in your voice. “I just wanted to do something right. To know it was worth all I had lost. I should’ve stayed in the Undercity.”

“Miláčku, look at me.” Viktor’s soft hands cupped your face. He gently lifted your head, his thumb wiping stray tears away. “You are exactly where you need to be right now. You are not a waste.”

“I failed Viktor..”

“No you didn’t. You did what you set out to do. You won, they lost. And when Hextech helps advance organic life and biodiversity, they will all be looking up to you.” His reassuring smile helped ease the pain. No one in Piltover could truly understand you like Viktor did. No one in Piltover lived through what you did except for Viktor. From the day you two met you promised you would rise above whatever was thought of you.

“You would do that for me?” You cooed softly.

He pressed a soft kiss against your temple, “I can’t trust any other botanist but you.”

Viktor stayed close by as you closed up for the day. You begrudgingly agreed to taking the next two days off (which your boss suggested anyway). Mostly because that meant you got to keep Viktor with you for two days as well. A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky on your departure down the wet streets of Piltover. After a crowded tram ride you both huddled inside of your apartment. You both melt into the soft couch cushions. Viktor’s head on your shoulder, his hand intertwined in yours, soft kisses pressed into your neck with sweet words in his native tongue. You felt your worries slip away as you nodded off. Viktor took notice and shifted your body to rest against his chest.

“Goodnight, my love.”

#writing fanfics at 3am-#cringe-#arcane fanfic #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor the machine herald #viktor x you #viktor league of legends #netflix arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #I wanted to include more but I got stuck on the endearment of love vs saying love #basically láska or lásko #I was also trying to pick another name for Viktor that wasn’t Vitya #I saw Viki and thought that was cute #it’s actually really cute 😭😭#anyway here’s my thinly veiled vent about my current career choices #hurt/comfort

119 notes · View notes