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gremlin-girly · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 4

Title: Dark Fantasy Meets Reality

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man) x f!Reader

Kink: CNC

Tags/ Warnings: SMUT, CNC, hair pulling, rough sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, sunshine), praise (good girl), man-handling, bondage (zipties), p-in-v (wrap it before you tap it), cream pie, choking/breath play, panties and fingers in mouth, vaginal fingering, Lloyd Hansen (He is most DEFINITELY a warning)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You find a place on the Web where you can spell out your sexual desires with no judgement and maybe even hire some help...

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

A/N: Jeez, cutting it close with this one. I had another fic for today but I wanted to change the pacing so I decided this might be a better fit - Love Grem 💜

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

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You half growl to yourself and kick off the covers.

This was getting ridiculous.

You were beyond horny – you were desperate for some relief but everytime you got close to that sweet, sweet edge of ecstasy, you were viciously pulled away. Either there was a delivery, or phone call, something that snapped your mind our of fantasy and back to reality. Sometimes it was your own mind sabotaging you; you forgot the washing again, that very important work thing you had. Things that only added to your stress and frustration. Always Ruining what would have been a perfect orgasm.

You’d been without a partner for a while now, and at first it was great. You and your fingers or vibrator were happy as a clam. However, the insatiable need of physical touch became overpowering. You didn’t want the torturous, laborious process of getting to know someone before trusting them enough to reveal some of your kinks for them to either break it off or judge you. Although it would be nice to have someone to share your bed with, once in a while.

You huffed, tugging your sweat pants back on, and heading to the bathroom to wash your hands. You needed to do something or someone and soon. You head back to your laptop, your coffee cold and uninviting, grumbling as you answer emails. It’s not long before your mind wanders, taunting you with thoughts and daydreams of utter filth. You glance to your phone.

Surely, there has to be a website for your sort of fantasies right? You see comments on reddit and porn sites so – surely – there’s a site where you could at least talk through your fantasies?

You pick up your phone and begin to type; work abandoned. After forty minutes of searching you find a site, agreeing to terms and conditions and set up a log in; using a faceless image of yourself in your favourite bra. Writing out your biography is a strangely freeing feeling. Openly listing kinks and things you’d like to try; things you’d never, ever tell a random person you’d meet face to face. Its not long before you’re browsing through posts and you can feel the familiar bubble of excitement build. You bite your lip.

It’s a dangerous game but you consider making a post, laying out what you need. You remind yourself of digital footprints but God – you need some form of release that maybe this will help. So you write. It’s not a New York Times Bestseller, but it’ll do. You re-read it, ironing out any spelling mistakes or especially bad grammar and hit the post button. You stare as it publishes your content and sigh softly. You’re not sure how to feel.

“I can always delete it in a few days,” you tell yourself, setting your phone face down and looking back to your laptop. “Yeah. I could always do that.”

You’re running errands a week later when your phone buzzes with a notification. You dismiss it and shrug it off, continuing to walk down the street with your tote over your shoulder. It was a warm day, a deliciously cool breeze in the air and youd taken the time and effort to make yourself up. A cute summer dress that was almost a little revealing, your favourite strawberry lip gloss and make up to exentuate your favourite and best features and your hair, your hair, was just perfect today.

It still didn't stop the ache from your clit though. That was the only downside.

You reached around the snacks in your tote bag to find the keys to your home but your key wouldn’t turn. You frowned a little and try the handle. The front door swung open to an empty apartment. You shiver slightly.

“Must’ve forgot to lock it. Damn.” You murmur to the hallway as you step inside. You turn to lock the door and when the bolt slides home, a gloved handovers your mouth and you’re yanked backwards into a broad, hard chest. You yelp as you’re pulled, legs wobbling but another large hand appears at your hip, holding you steady against your aggressor.

“Welcome home,” a deep voice rumbles from behind you, breath hot on your neck and wisps of facial hair tickling the shell of your ear. You go to make a noise, but the hand encompassing your jaw squeezes hard.

“Ah – ah – ah,” the voice chides teasingly and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “I don’t want you screaming just yet.”

It was like someone had poured ice down your spine. You were spun around and early marched down the short hallway and into the kitchen, your tote ripped from your shoulder and tossed somewhere – you didn’t really care, you were to busy thinking about what would happen next. Marched to the countertop, your aggressor pushed your head flat against the surface, nestling a strong leg between your thighs to stop you trying to make a hasty attempt at escape while a free hand bound your wrists behind your back with what felt like zipties, biting into your skin agonisingly. He made an approving humming sound, and although you couldn’t quite see him, you could feel his eyes roaming over you. Gloved hands ghosted from your knees, to your thighs and to your ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze as the skirt of your dress was lifted over your hips. You felt yourself flush with a mixture of fear and embarassment, knowing your lace panties were being admired.

“All this for me? You shouldn’t have.”

You wriggled feebly, which earned you a harsh smack to on ass cheek, making you squeak with shock. You kick your legs out, earning another, harder smack to your other cheek. This time you cry out, and you hear the voice chuckle.

“Behave, sweetheart,” you hear a belt buckle clink behind you and freeze up. “Or don’t. I don’t really care.”

You whimper when you feel a finger run down to your clit over your panties and you flush again when you feel your legs practically vibrate at the sensation. Another chuckle from the man behind you.

“Oh, sweetheart. Here, let me help.”

You feel your panties slowly and tauntingly slide down over your ass cheeks, your voice dying in your throat the hot flesh between your legs met the cool air of your kitchen. You can feel your panties hang loosely around your ankles and there’s a tap against your leg from a polished shoe. On instinct you raise your foot.

“Good girl,” purrs the voice, tapping your other leg with his foot. You repeat the motion, raising your other leg. There’s a dramatic sigh as the man leans over, swiftly sweeping your panties from the floor. You whimper when he leans over your body, pressing you into the counter. Your bones cry in agony with the pressure and you bite your lip to keep any sort of noise slipping out. Which is futile when a large hand knots in your hair, pulling your hair by the root, forcing you to crane your neck back uncomfortably to look at the man behind you. Tears sting at your eyes but you say nothing, focusing intently as predatory blue eyes bore into you. You can see a playful sneer tugging at his lips beneath a groomed moustache, contorting a handsome face into a dangerously seductive one.

“Hey, pretty girl. Name’s Lloyd. I need you to remember that, got it?”

You don’t think you’d be able to forget it anytime soon but you nod anyway, keeping your teeth firmly pressed against the softness of your lips as you look back at him with glassy wide eyes. His smile widens and he pats your right ass cheek gently.

“Good girl,” He praises, raising your panties to your mouth. “Open wide, pretty girl.”

Your heart beats wildly as you comply, feeling the thick gloved fingers shove the flimsy material into your open mouth. Shame floods you as you feel the dampness of your excitement touch your tounge – this should not turn you on as much as it does. Lloyd takes in your expression, and looks pleased.

“You look good with your mouth full, sunshine.” He teases, squeezing your ass cheek with his free hand before moving to your aching core. Your moan is suppressed by your panties and Lloyd’s fingers in your mouth. Lloyd slips two fingers into your desperate hole with ease, sliding them in and out torturously slow, smirking down at you as your eyes flutter and your legs shift. He teases and flexes his fingers inside of you, spreading and stretching you open with a delicious burn that had you keening around the fingers in your mouth.

“Shit,” He gasps tauntingly. “You’re already soaked. You don’t need the warm-up.”

Your eyes go wide when you feel his cock run over your folds, gathering the slick that had built up between your thighs. You make a muffled sound of protest that evolves into a long moan as Lloyd sheaths his cock into your throbbing cunt. Your eyes roll back and Lloyd’s fingers move from your mouth to wrap around your throat, squeezing your windpipe lightly and pulling you backwards so you’re flush against his chest.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos huskily into your ear, “Take it.”

The hand in your hair moves to your hip, keeping you still as he starts to thrust into you. Lloyd’s moustache tickles at your throat when he trails kisses along the back of your neck, the grip from his hand squeezing so tightly you feel lightheaded. But damn, if it doesn’t feel good. Your pussy grips his cock making Lloyd grunt into your ear, thrusting harder into you. You mewl around your panties, trying to shift your tied hands to no avail.

Lloyd groans as he feels your slick walls flutter around him, milking his cock so well, so quickly. A gloved finger hooks part of your panty and tugs it free from your mouth, throwing to the floor with a wet thud. You take a huge gulp of air before Lloyd’s hand is back around your throat again.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He growls, tugging your neck back forcefully. You yell out, back arching along with your neck as your hips slam mercilessly against the countertop.

“Y-You!” You cry out, gasping for air when he releases your throat to let you speak. Lloyd clicks his tongue, squeezing your throat again.

“No, no, sweetheart,” he chides, voice low. “Get it wrong again and I’ll have to spank you. Now, let’s try again. Who does this pussy belong to?”

He releases your throat again but this time you almost scream his name. “Lloyd! I-it belongs to yo-“

“That’s right, baby!” Lloyd interrupts you loudly, cutting off your air supply once more. He fucks into you mercilessly, and you’re sure you’ve got Bruises on your hips, but you don’t really care. Lloyd’s sneer against your neck with filthy praises falling from his lips make your head spin and you don’t even notice that you’re cumming over his cock until he releases your neck to let you scream.

“Oh, look at you.” He huffs, continuing the unrelenting pace, loving the feeling of your soaked cunt around him and the way your legs are shaking. “Doin’ so well for me sweetheart. I think I’m gonna have to keep you.”

You whine pitifully, pleasure blurring your brain as you nod along to his words.

“Fuck, you’d like that?” Lloyd groans. His hips stutter for a moment but when he starts to fuck you again, it’s sloppier and less focused. “You’d like to be all mine?”

“Oh – yes!” You half-sob, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling as you feel your pussy spasm; close to cumming yet again. That spasm is what sends Lloyd over the edge, pinning you in place with his hands on your hips as he coats your walls with his cum. You follow soon after, again, squeezing him for everything he can give.

Your breathing is shallow but you tell when cool metal slips against your wrist, freeing your from the ties. Your hands fly out to grab the counter, steading yourself as you catch your breath.

“Well, sunshine, this was fun.” Lloyd comments nonchalantly as he removes himself from you lazily, prolonging the feeling of his cock slipping from you before giving your ass a pat. “But I’ve got a job nearby – shouldn’t be too long.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows and blink a few times. You glance over your shoulder to see him shoving himself back into his pants quickly. He gives you a wink and a smirk that has a blush creeping up your neck.

“Don’t give me that look,” He says waggling a finger jokingly at you. “I’ll be back later for another round. Or three.”

You nod, still a little shell-shocked and ruminating in post-orgasm bliss. Maybe that website wasn't half bad after all.

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #day 4 #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloud hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen smut #gremlin girly writes #gremlin girly

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drhubrisworm · 8 months ago

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There isnt a way to find him, or at least I'm not equipped to find him. The only way I can think of is through school info but that is turning up fruitless. And I dont remember how to spell his name.

Shout out to my friend from middle school that I lost contact with but despite that has appeared in my dreams for the last decade ! Hope you're doing welll man

#we keep meeting in my dreams and everytime i wake up i feel sad i wasnt more of his friend #there may be another way but i would have to ask for my records from my family #i wish i remembered how to spell his name that would make this a bit easier #part of me wants to be his friend again. i want to find him but i feel like it would be soooo weird #idk even know i feel like a fool even trying to search him up

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naomihatake · 1 year ago

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In search of freedom (Ch. 2)

2. The wheel of death

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa. This chapter follows the events of the second episode.

Warnings for this chapter: canon typical violence, kidnapping

Word count: 3,1k

Theme song: “Haunted Isles” by Derek Fiechter (click on the link)

A/N: I almost didn't believe I wrote so much considering the process felt so slow and kind of annoying. Not the best chapter I've written so far, not something I'm necessarily proud of, but I wanted to follow OPLA's plot. I know 3k words isn't much, but I already prepared pieces of the next chapters that I'm genuinely excited to share with you. Half of this part is filled with action, meanwhile, the next chapter will be full of psychological analysis and a lot of thoughts + more interactions between the reader and Zoro.

The reader will be referred to as "Witch" from now on, because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

The view made her smile as she looked at the dark blue nuance of the sea, her eyes sparkling just like the moon that was hidden by the gray clouds at that time. Her heart beat so peacefully, in sync with the waves of the water, and with every inhale she could feel that sensation taking over her senses. Everytime she got on a ship, the feeling grew stronger and stronger and she doubted there was a limit.

Freedom had no limit and she wondered if that's what it felt like.

"We're not a crew," Zoro and Nami — the woman with orange hair — said in unison.

Luffy was dead set on calling four people a crew, despite the fact that it was a decision he kind of made on his own.

Zoro's tall figure disappeared inside the cabin, where he intended to nap. She was intrigued; it was the same man who made a fool of those marines back at the tavern. The witch was confused about the soft clinck sounds coming from him, until she realized it was just his three golden earrings hitting one another at each move.

Luffy's last crewmate smiled, endeared by the unfaltering enthusiasm their supposed captain was radiating. He was like a ball of energy since they got on Nami's ship and sailed away with help from Koby.

"So, you're a witch," Luffy excitedly turned towards her.

"You could call me that, I think," she shrugged.

"Do you do magic? Like, potions in a cauldron and spells with candles—"

"I think you know too many stereotypes," she let out a long sigh.

Nami was on her knees in front of the safe box, ear glued to the locker as she rolled it between her fingers.

"So you won't chop us into pieces and boil us?" She arched her eyebrow, unintentionally feeding Luffy's crazy ideas.

"You—!"

"No, I don't."

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and pointer finger.

"What about you two talking after I finish unlocking this? I need silence."

The witch sat down, resting her body against a barrel as she watched Nami's careful actions. Now that she thinks about it, she never saw someone so sure of themselves while opening up this kind of locker, which meant it wasn't the first time she did it either. She presented herself as a thief.

Luffy was agitated, roaming around and stretching, a big smile on his lips. He was holding back from babbling until he forgot he had to keep his mouth shut.

"I almost can't believe I already have a crew and we got our hands on the Grand Line map."

"Luffy," the witch whispered so she wouldn't disturb Nami. "You do know none of us promised to take part in this adventure, right?"

She was trying her best to be gentle about the topic, especially since he seemed so happy he couldn't hold back at all. Luffy had no filter anymore, saying whatever came to mind, but she supposed he's always like that.

"Maybe you'll change your mind," he beamed.

"I appreciate your help a lot, kid, and I'll try my best to help you if I get the chance until we get to the next destination, but I don't know about that," she shook her head.

"You said the same thing at the tavern: that it's dangerous."

"And I still didn't change my mind. It is dangerous."

"Can you be silent?" Nami accentuated her words in annoyance.

"Sorry," the witch muttered.

The orange haired woman glued her ear to the lock again, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together in concentration. One strand of hair fell over her blue eyes but she didn't mind it while she continued opening the locker up.

A small click vibrated shyly through the air and Nami snapped up.

"It's open!" she shouted.

From inside the box, Nami took a long cylinder and opened it. The witch moved behind her and looked at the map of the Grand Line, inspecting it with the eye of someone who wasn't an expert at all. She was focusing on the navigator's explanations so intensely, she didn't notice when the other two approached. Zoro's swords brushed by her leg, moving her entire attention to him.

The sound of fireworks filled the air.

"The marines? When did they find us?" Nami furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's with the red smoke?" the witch found herself asking right after she started seeing in nuances.

"It smells weird," Luffy muttered.

She found out it was true only after she inhaled it and her vision was getting blurry. Everything happened so fast: Nami falling first, then Zoro saying something she couldn't hear. Her body got soft and in less than a few seconds, she fell unconscious after she caught a glimpse of a pirate ship.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch rubbed her wrists together, but her attempt to escape from the rope digging into her skin was futile. She was sitting in an open chest, her knees pulled close to her chest; both her legs and wrists were tied and she was growing tired of it.

They were kidnapped by some pirate clowns and thrown into what he called the Green Room. Luffy was still in the main tent, and what was happening to him was a secret between the clowns and the dozens of people who had their legs chained like animals.

The Green Room was filled with strange things and old furniture and cushions. Golden bulbs shined and reflected into some square mirrors and another large one with skulls as ornaments. There was a chair in front of a desk, where cups were placed next to some photos. A creepy white mannequin stood right next to the chest she was sitting in, wearing an elegant purple scarf. Something that imitated a chandelier was hanging in the middle of the roof, made out of big flower cups of white thin material. Zoro's swords were left against one of the cushions, where her two identical guns were.

A barely audible groan left the swordsman's lips as he struggled against the rope that glued his wrists to a big wheel.

"They're too strong even for you," Nami commented in a shallow tone.

Both of her hands clutched at the metal bars of the wide bird cage she was stuck in.

"I need to get out of here and kill some clowns," he muttered, focused on escaping. "I've got out of worse."

"With that I have to agree," the witch sighed.

"I saw a town when I got out of the tent… what was left of it after Buggy destroyed it."

"You mean, when you tried to leave us for dead?" Zoro grimaced after pulling at the ropes again.

The witch was like a bystander, her eyes running from one to the other. They were seriously insane, ready to argue in a life-or-death situation.

"You were picking up a fight you couldn't win," Nami snapped her head towards the swordsman.

"I know your type: if there's nothing to gain, you're out."

"Says the one who runs after Berries—"

"Shut it, you two," the witch intervened, letting out a groan. "We can argue and throw venom at each other after we get out of here."

"If we get out of here," Nami retorted.

"We do because I have too much of an ego to play in a circus created by a maniac," the witch mumbled.

After a few moments of silence, no sounds coming from outside the room they were left in, Nami got a lock pin out of her boot.

"Didn't they take all of them?" Zoro asked.

"They only took three," she smirked for a brief moment.

The witch leaned her torso forward and, despite the painful tug of the rope, she tried to raise them to the belt of her pants. She snuck her fingers between the two pieces of clothing and bit at her bottom lip when her skin started stinging painfully.

Finally, she got a small pocket knife out and grinned.

"I thought you were a witch," the swordsman gazed at her.

"You'll see magic once I get out of here," she joked.

A loud scream ripped through the air and it made all of them snap their heads towards the door.

Was that Luffy?

The witch's blood froze in her veins.

"You better hurry," Zoro whispered.

The witch gulped and wielded the knife between her fingers until the sharp edge grazed the rope around her wrists. She moved the knife up and down, putting as much pressure as the position allowed her. Nami, on the other hand, continued rolling the lock pick into the padlock.

Now that the woman stared intently at the mannequin while cutting the rope — even if way too slowly —, the doll had a scary smile painted in black on its porcelain face. Why was it looking back at her?

Minutes of unsuccessful cutting ropes and rolling lock picks, after another groan coming out of Zoro's mouth, he spoke:

"Someone's coming."

"Keep them talking, I need more time," Nami turned her head.

"Same here."

"I don't talk, I hit things," he grunted.

"Then change your hobby," the witch huffed.

The witch's eyes widened and she leaned back against the chest, so her arms and pocket knife would be hidden. Her heart was beating painfully fast in between her ribs and it was almost ridiculous, how she was sweating and the clothes started getting uncomfortable.

A monocycle creaked under the man who just got inside the room. He passed right by her when he came in, which sent her into an inner crisis. Wearing dark colored clothes and an unbuttoned coat without sleeves, the man hopped off and let the object fall to the floor.

She had no clue why the pirate chose to get close to the swordsman, who looked at him dead in the eye.

"Remember me?" the pirate spoke.

"No. Must be some other homicidal, unicycle-riding clown."

The witch was reminded you pay for the audacity of speaking up to your enemy when you're locked up; Zoro got instantly hit by the pirate's fist into the stomach. However, he didn't give that clown any satisfaction, his lips glued.

She eyed Nami, who was turned with her back at the lock of her cage, trying to open it without even looking at it. Damn, it wasn't good.

The witch couldn't hear whatever the fuck that clown was muttering at Zoro's ear, her fingers moving the knife faster, a tight knot settling in her throat as adrenaline pumped through her.

Nami made eye contact with the swordsman and the pirate who called himself Cabaji turned towards her.

"I've never met a clown. I thought they're supposed to be funny. Do some acrobatics on your monocycle, maybe it can help the time pass."

The witch shouldn't have opened her mouth in the first place, but if Nami was caught, it could've ended badly. Maybe it was the fault of the adrenaline, but pissing off that idiot with three strands of mint green hair made her smirk victoriously.

People who get angry when you step on their ego have always been the funniest creatures alive.

Of course, the reaction she received wasn't a good one. The pirate took two knives from his belt and stepped closer. She refused to look away and nothing could erase that grin off her face.

"Still doesn't ring a bell," Zoro caught his attention again.

Bad move. One of Cabaji's knives cut through the air and sunk into the wood the swordsman was glued to. Any other sounds have immediately been silenced.

"You followed us day and night for weeks through the Goa kingdom, never relenting, like some kind of demon."

Oh, so that's who Roronoa Zoro really was; the witch dared to allow her curiosity to act like a sponge about the new information. Interesting. The swordsman was a demon and a bounty hunter. Amazing combo.

He was probably hated by every pirate on the sea.

The woman tried her best to focus on the pocket knife between her fingers, but she couldn't help the fear crawling up into her skin. They had to get out of there alive and, preferably, with their limbs attached to their body.

After a few heavy steps, Cabaji gripped at the edge of the wooden wheel and in less than two seconds, the swordsman was rotating like a toy. The pirate walked roughly two meters away and then continued tossing knives, each time managing to avoid Zoro's flesh.

Nami and the witch looked at each other for a brief moment and then continued with their previous work.

When the rope finally got cut, she looked at the maniac pirate who didn't stop with his play yet. She held back her reactions, instead choosing to look at the swordsman who was rotating in the air and it made her pale. Time passed by too slowly and she slowly let out a long sigh when the wheel stopped from moving.

"You really don't fear death, do you?" Cabaji huffed.

He wasn't satisfied by the lack of reaction he received from Zoro who looked like he's gone through that three times a day for years. How did he manage to keep such a poker face?

"No, I just don't fear you."

Good, make him corner you.

The pirate didn't think twice before he threw a knife that aimed right above the swordsman's wrist. Their enemy wasn't careful enough, since the rope could now be easily cut.

Cabaji walked towards Zoro — another mistake. Nami already opened her cage and she was silently getting out. The witch didn't hesitate when she stopped pretending like she still had her wrists tied together. Clutching at the knife between her fingers, she raised her hand and tossed the sharp object through the air, aiming at the man's back.

"Thinking you're the only one who can play with knives, clown?" she huffed.

Cabaji turned and it was Nami's opportunity to kick his stomach with her foot, which made him fall on his back, the knife digging further into his flesh, cutting through his ribs and lung.

Finally, the witch's anxiety lowered now that one of their men was down. Now, who knows how many more they had to defeat.

"I didn't take you for a criminal."

Nami took one of the knives stuck in the wheel and cut Zoro's rope and then came to her other crewmate, helping with the rope around her ankles.

"I was desperate and he was annoying," the witch shrugged while she rubbed at her aching wrists.

When she found the freedom of moving again, she got out of the chest and took all the knives she found, including the ones from the wheel.

"What's the plan?" Zoro asked as he arranged his swords back at his hip.

"I say we beat the shit out of every clown we see," Nami grinned.

The witch smiled after she put each knife at her belt, rolling another one between her fingers. With her guns sitting at each side of her hip and the bonus of adrenaline, it felt like nothing could stop her.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The sharp edge of the weapon broke the glass after she threw it right in the middle of Luffy's aquarium — or whatever that thing was supposed to be.

"Luffy!" she shouted his name.

The glass wall of his cage shattered and the water splashed around, the straw hat coughing, his face pale. He was on the floor, soaked to the bone. His straw hat was so close to him,yet so far away. Luffy vomited the cylinder with the map and despite the nausea he was experiencing, he crawled to his hat.

He put himself in danger this entire time and chose not to let go of the Grand Line map, but that object held much more importance to him. The witch froze for a mere moment, confused, but when she wanted to get closer and get the map away from Buggy, a pirate with a sword came sprinting towards her.

"Witch!" she heard a gruff voice.

She dodged it before her head could get cut off and sank a knife into his stomach, only to raise the agony after she hit the man in the same spot, blood gushing out of his wound and soaking his clothes.

With a swift motion, her fingers grabbed at one of her revolvers. She fired at Buggy who was a breath away from touching the map, but didn't pay enough attention to another attack towards her.

A sword's edge shone in the corner of her eye and no matter how fast she was, she couldn't dodge that. Her eyes widened and she waited for the pain to inflict into her body. The pirate froze in place and his sword slipped between his fingers. When he fell to his knees, from behind him there was Zoro who was using a three-sword style.

Definitely a demon; but in a good way.

The witch nodded at him. She didn't train properly in the past year and she lost some speed on the way. She hasn't been in such a situation for a long time.

With other two pirates attacking them from the sides, she protected his blind spot while he killed another enemy with a mere flick of his swords. Another loud shot rang through the air and another man fell down, the center of his heart pierced.

"Buggy needs to have a weakness," the witch said.

"And what is it?"

The answer was right before their eyes: Luffy managed to get back to his feet while they were busy. He used his ability to elongate his arm and grabbed at the leg who was moving in the air, only to throw it in a chest. Nami closed it and grinned mischievously.

That was it.

The witch rolled another knife between her fingers and analyzed the detached hand that was rotating around her. At the perfect time, she threw it in the middle of its palm with enough force to send it into another chest, Nami locking it.

They focused on getting each part of Buggy's body stuck in any suitable place, be it a chest, a barrel or under a bucket. For as long as they got rid of that maniac, everything was fine.

She let out a sigh when only the clown's head remained intact, now laughing pitifully. Zoro bent down and grabbed the head, locking it into a box and putting a rock on top of it.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

A/N: Thank you so much for the comments and the support <3

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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im gonna stay dreaming that either vampire engel turns Konig or her drinking his blood somehow turns her human because the way you write in general, the angst, the yearning, I wanna eat your writing my dude

Omg turning Engel back to human?? (Omg he could finally marry her and… um… love her properly)

What if…

What if König tried to find a cure for her…? 🥺🥺

König has never been so feral. He's rooting out vampires with a newfound purpose, but instead of just killing them, he tortures them first to find out if there's a cure for vampirism.

And Engel knows what he's doing... She knows, and says nothing. She can't believe that a human man wants to help her (well, technically, König never asks if she wants to become human again; he has made all her decisions for her for weeks now, but Engel's soft little lips tremble from seeing how fervently he's searching for a cure, just for her sake). Sometimes, he has to drag them to their camp for torture, and König doesn’t like it that she's close by, not one bit.

"Look away, little angel," he demands with a grim voice, completely different from the tone he usually uses with her, the gentle accent she's now grown used to. The violence of his trade seeps through everytime he's filled with bloodlust, and once, when a captive vampire spews out curses at her, shouts how she's a traitor, how she's not a wolf but a lamb for preferring to be with cattle, how their love is cursed, König's fist brings an end to the spell-like rage as the captive's jaw is ripped off by the blow.

And she can't look away.

She's now utterly, hopelessly, desperately in love, and hungry all the time: she never drinks enough because she just can't bring herself to do it, no matter how many times König orders her to have her fill. She can see that he can't take it, large and able-bodied as he is, so she has to lie to him that she's feeling well when in truth she's about to collapse. She nearly faints from thirst once, and that's the first time König gets angry at her. She falls to her knees and tries to apologize because she can't take it when he's upset, far less bear it if he's disappointed in her. But König storms from the camp, and she feels like dying; she's too weak to even follow him.

She can't, because it feels like a kiss.

That captive just read her mind and revealed her true feelings for her human captor, and König isn't appalled at all; he doesn't turn around and ask her if it’s true. He simply smashes a face in to stop the curse, like it matters to him that her love stays pure. Like he loves her too...

After a while that feels like a century, König returns like a mountain of fury. He's dragging her first proper meal in weeks with him, and looks like a man who has finally sold his soul to the devil, says nothing as he throws the poor male at her feet, even slits his throat for her. Hesitantly, he crawls forward and starts to feed, assuming that the young male he brought for her must've been some kind of a criminal. A thief or a rapist, perhaps.

She lies on the ground, all hope lost: did her one true love just leave her? For disobeying him...?

She can finally drink her fill, and after a while, König comes to crouch at her side. He starts to pet her hair while she drinks: and she can’t help but whimper. She drinks as neatly as she can, like a human drinking from a saintly cup, not giving into her lust, just closing her eyes and savoring the song of blood inside her and König's gentle hand upon her head…

She's so in love by now that she wants to be with him at all times, even when he rests. She simply can't take another night without him. Not an hour before dawn, she crawls out of the coffin she just crept into to escape the approaching sun. She slides onto the bed next to König, and tries to be as silent as possible – he would just command her back to her coffin if he woke up – shuffles next to him like a cold shadow, and almost succeeds... But then he stirs as she attaches herself to his warm, powerful form, practically clutches him like she's drowning.

She's quiet as a mouse, but no scolding comes, there's not a single sharp command from him. König just goes tense when he senses there's a woman latched to him; then starts to relax upon noticing it's just his love-starved pet who's crawled to him in the night. He even wraps his hand around her like they've always done this – like they're a married couple who have curled together for warmth and love for years and years.

"Engel… You need to go back to your bed," he says, voice parched and soft from sleeping. König always calls her coffin 'bed' as if it's merely just that: a downy bunk where humans go to sleep. At times, when they have to take refuge from a hail, König bribes the innkeeper and hauls her coffin to his room. She likes to think it's because he wants to ensure that nothing bad happens to her.

He starts to caress her softly (she can't believe how gentle König can be with his touch when he wants to): first her head, then her cheek, then her arm… Her fingers fiddle with the hem of his mask, the large black draping hood that König uses to conceal his true identity and which sets him apart from the rest of the village folk.

They're not that different, perhaps, her and him. He's a monster in the eyes of the humans too; they fear him at least as much as they used to fear her.

"Not yet," she whispers, asks, begs, and grips his heavy shirt in a tight fist, making it clear that he has to pry her fingers off one by one if he wants to get rid of her. The man just sighs and lets her cling to him for a little while longer. But just when she starts to relax with the hope that König might allow her stay here until the sun rises, he collects her in his arms and lifts her from the bed like she's nothing but the dress she wears.

He carries her to her coffin and sets her down, down, down to the wooden box he has made so lovely and snug for her; it's furnished with dark red velvet paddings and even has a small pillow with cute little tassels attached to it. The sun is already rising, and she feels like crying again when König moves to pick up the large, heavy lid like it weighs nothing at all.

"Sir… Don't leave me," she whispers as her last wish, beckoning to him with all she has, the last part of her that's human and not the creature he hates. There's a flash of agony in his stare: a brief, sullen, pained look as he looks down at her like the Holy Christos himself.

"I will never leave you," he promises, under his breath, a broken vow from a broken man, just before he encloses her in darkness.

#answered #forbidden love #könig x reader #supernatural au #vampire au #vampire hunter!König #könig angst #könig fluff #stockholm syndrome?#kinda

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ananiel · 6 months ago

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Hello hello

I have decided that instead of an entity reader, i shall change it to a witch reader!

I won't lie, it took a while for me to picture this in a way that it would make sense, as even with witch reader, some things added up wouldn't make sense, and leave some holes that i dreaded to look at, or even to write while realising them.

This can be read individually or, for better understanding, You could click on the iguro obanai!reader Fics to understand them better!

Hope everyone Will enjoy!

Yan Louis x witch! Reader

Tw : yandere themes, obbsesion, abandonment isues, use of strong words of hate, read at your own risk

Thank You @kanroji-san for giving me this idea of an au!

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"Louis... Louis stay with the children... Stay with Louie and Hugo... Care for them, care for them please... I Will return with their mother"

Louis still remembers the Words of his brother before he left with sherlock ți go search for their missing lover.

He heard the Words ringing into his ears almost everyday, almost everytime he looks at the children.

He felt hopeless, he felt like... The children needed a father, that the children needed a mother... And he wasn't that... He wasn't either one of them.

He was afraid to be, afraid that his brother's children would forget about him, and he couldn't have that, he couldn't do this to William. Maybe to sherlock, but not to William.

Louis took over everything, he took over the lord of crime, as Albert wasn't really paying attention to what was happening inside the manor, instead opting to help his brother on the wild goose chase that they seemingly were trying to do after the lost darling.

Managing kids, Managing adults as if they were children, he was overwhelmed, even if he didn't want to say it, even if he tried to act like that wasn't the case... He was just... Getting tired. William was... He doesn't know where, he couldn't send letters...

He was so alone... Alone... Like he Will be... If William's plans succed and be ends himself... He might get used to this torture, maybe so it wouldn't be that hard for him.

Rearanging the papers around William's study, he stumbled upon difrent flying books, spell vials and an adress... That he never heard of...

Weird... That place is not from London, but from deep, deep far away, in a forest...

IT would take a while to get there... He couldn't leave the kids and the lord of crime operation on hold... But the curiosity...

He could leave the missions... Not the kids...

No... Not the kids... But to travel that far with two infants for something like a mysrhical place?

Was he that desperate to understand his brother?

Louis embarked on the train with the two babies in one of his hands while the other was carrying a laguage with their esentials.

Many stared at him, some women dotting and describing him as a very good father, carrying for his children.

Louis only turned his back at them, pulling the small paper with the adress written on it.

Louie was more loud than Hugo, Louis noted, but to his surprise, the closer they got to the adress, they both started to fuss, as if remebering the place, as if feeling the presence of someone important.

The more he got closer. The more distinguish did the hut in front of him look. It looked like out of a fairytail... A witches' shop... How interesting

Louis entered and he could sare he saw two colored eyes staring at him for a second, which made the babies jump, only that before he could take a second look, another woman flew in his view... One with a witch attire... Black cap, a plain dress and a hat. She touched her wand, looking at him, but then, let it go, as she looked closer at him...

Louis was distracted, but the children were not which made you rapidly take them from Louis' hands and into her own

"Heavens...I thought you were someone else... How can i help You?"

"Louie, Hugo! It's a pleasure to finally see You! Ah, it's better when there's no tummy keeping us apart! "

That surprised Louis, especially as the children seemed to calm down. Looking at you, he could see a rather unease when You told him to take a seat at a slightly floating table, You fluttered your wand. Closing and locking a back door... But he wasn't paying that much attention anymore, that unease slowly fafing away.. As what caught his gaze was you... You, such a sweet thing... You took the children from him with such ease... As if You knew they were making him hard days.

You were a natural... Like the missing mother of this father role that he refused to accept out of fear of demaging the relathionship William has with them.

"so... May i ask what relathionship You have with my brother?" he hated saying that, for some reason, it hurt to say that.

She looked surprised, unsure of what to say for a little while before replying

"oh Yes, Yes. Your brother... Well um, i help him with my magic?"

"You do?"

"Yes"

"nothing else other than that?"

"no?"

He somehow found relief in that, You only felt more preasured, thinking he caught your lie of you not working with William, but rather, William discovering You because of something that You took part in... The escape that made him leave his home with everyone behind.

"Why don't You come to the manor... I've taken his place for now... And... We could still work togheter"

You took a big gulo but then nodded, looking at the back

"sure, sure, let me get my... My stuff"

As You got up, Louis tried to follow, making You flich and put a hand on your wand

"want me to help?" he asked, as he felt that You leaving him would hurt. Even if it was for a few seconds.

You reasured him that it was ok and left, coming back the moment he wanted to come after You... And that's how You left

Left to the place You helped your friend escape from... Her prison soon going to be yours... But... For The kids and her... You could do it.

On the way back. It so happened that most of the people that saw Louis with the two babies, now see You and him togheter, each one of you holding a child...

That was good, Louis though, no one would bother either one of you.

Days passed since You entered the manor...days that counted to weeks... Weeks that counted to months...

You accepted the kids with open arms, as they were part of your dear friend... And got to make a good team with Louis...

... Dare i say, You were co parents at this Point... Usually Hugo and Louie would sleep to Your side as You and Louis cuddled on the other side...

You started to trust him ... Your friend never told You what exactly happend, why she ran away but didn't take the kids, why she ran from her lovers...you knew they were "like the demon snake" from her words... But she didn't go into details... Maybe if she did... You two could've been Free togheter... Maybe she knew that if there is an emtpy Cage, there needs to be someone traped there, someone else, because until the Cage isn't ocupied, there is still a chance of having your freedom stripped away.

He loved You... He was obssesed with You... This playing parent that he never wanted to happen niw is the best part of his day, of his life...

He thinks about you two togheter... The shoping became a list of ingredients combined for You two, the chores were done in two... Everything... Everything was perfect... A dream come true.

IT was so beautifull, so heartwarming... He started fantasizing, planing, planing if William comes to take his children, of starting your and his own family

If William doesn't... You'll raise the kids, maybe having more later... Yes... Yes... Now Louis understood everything, understood his brother... Understood the need of having little ones... He still remembers the talk he had to suffer then, in which William ragged about how cute a pregnant lover is, how stunning...

Yes... He thinks he gets it now... And he understood why William left... Because children Will be... There can be another child... But never, never another You... And he understands that now, as he watches You put the children to sleep in their cribs... And to return in his arms, in your bed, in your room, just like a family would.

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #william james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #mtp x you #louis james moriarty x reader #yandere moriarty the patriot #yandere mtp #Yandere mtp x reader #Iguro obanai! Reader #witch! reader

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thatwritterbeach · 4 months ago

Text

So About That Alley .2

Jason Todd x fmc Alex

DC masterlist ALL OTHER PARTS FOUND HERE

Unedited***Also I swear Tumblr is messing up my spelling on purpose cuz everytime I re-read something I know I fixed it's wrong again

Alex: short, curvy, red hair, green eyes, redheads go through pain meds way faster than normal people to the point I personally don't even take them, it's a joke, they last 30 min at best

Summary: Alex finds out her bf is red hood, after she spills some not so great secrets to the masked man while stitching him up.

Warnings: Vaginismus* angst, sexual assault, self-harm, depression, drug use by Alex, violence, cursing, NSFW, smut, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, guided masturbation?, p in v (not overly described), pain during s*x, hiding said pain, hickeys?, self-hate, insecurities, eating disorder, weight loss

A/N: I do not own dc boohoo

Part One

not my gif, I also love that when you search Jason Todd gifs Jensen Ackles is like half of them cuz he voiced him one time.

Fuck everything still hurt she thought miserably as she rocked her hips against his thigh. The pain was a dull ache but she knew from experience she needed to wait longer for the drugs to kick in before she could even think about anything going inside her.

"So pretty, princess," Jason mumbled into her throat while he placed nips and kissed on the exposed skin. She was too busy focusing on her breathing to utter a reply but he didn't expect one.

After several minutes the pain started to fade away to pleasure and she was able to pick up the pace but it wasn't getting her where she needed to go before the drugs wore off. She stilled her movements and grabbed his hand to slide his fingers into her panties she directed them to her clit and made soft slow circles, as if he needed instructions. But he made no move to shake her off or tell her he knew what he was doing, if she wanted to guide his hands the rest of the night he was happy to oblige.

"So wet for me," he cooed into her ear sinking a digit into her heat.

"More," she begged in a sultry voice. Of course, that was the opposite of what she wanted but the clock was ticking on those meds.

"What do you want, pretty?"

"Need you inside me," she pleaded, rocking her hips softly against his finger. Fuck that hurts. When he removed his hands so she could move she was quick to crawl onto the bed on all fours, then slid her panties to her knees leaving her shirt on. This way he can't see my face as I flinch in pain. Yeah, 'cause that's a normal thought, that normal people have. Unaware of her inner turmoil he groaned at the sight and stripped his clothes in record time.

"My tubes are tied," she said into the bedding.

"What?"

"My tubes are tied, remember, I can't get pregnant, so if your clean..."She trailed off awkwardly.

"I'm clean."

He spent a little time stretching her some more with his fingers but all the stretching in the world wouldn't help her without pain pills, and strong ones so when he finally slid into her she sucked in a pained breath and a single tear sped out before she could help it. And this is why she was face down, ass up, and not facing him.

"Shit you're tight, you gotta relax baby, don't wanna hurt you," he soothed, un-moving behind her while he ran his hands over her hips, totally not searching for scars. He felt what had to be stretch marks under his fingers since there wasn't any discoloration to them. Of course, he forgot makeup existed and she had loads of it piled on her entire body. He was also feeling up the wrong spots for fresh ones.

"I'm good," she managed to say in a needy whine, though it wasn't need for him to move, more get the fuck out and never touch her again. He leaned over to kiss her shoulder and she began to wonder how much longer she had and if he was ever gonna get with the program but when he slid out and back in slower than she knew possible she wished she hadn't thought of this stupid plan to begin with. It felt like she was, well, it's hard to describe if you've never felt it but it's a sharp but wide spread ache (even that's too soft a word, ache is an annoyance this is straight pain) that could be felt to her lungs, which were getting harder to move by the second. Blessedly she could tell he was speeding towards his release so she worked up the courage to fake her own, knowing he would 'hold off for her'. When he slid out she collapsed to the bed sure to grab him and take him down with her so he wouldn't get a chance to see what was probably blood on the both of them mixed with other things. He 'hmmphd' when he made contact with her back quick to move off of her but she insured he stayed on his stomach fingers crossed it was only a little and would come of on her black blanket, eww I know. With him boneless next to her she was able to escape to the bathroom without conflict and thanked all the gods her shirt was long and dark colored. It took half a minute to rinse her self off trying to be quick and get back out there before he got suspicious. She soaked a washcloth is warm water and carried it out with her to clean him up, much to his weak protests, he didn't even open his eyes.

"Sorry, did my cleaning interrupt your post-nut clarity," she teased slipping her panties back on and tossing the rag away.

"How can you move so fast?"

"Guess I have better stamina, maybe I should be out fighting crime," she tisked at him laying down on her stomach beside him again.

"No fair, I demand a rematch, I was just so overwhelmed by your beauty I couldn't hold back any longer, now that the initial surprise is out of the way, I will rock your world till you can't walk," he promised, though it felt empty with his closed eyes and heavy breathing. She patted him on the chest in a 'sure, sure' manner and waited impatiently for him to get up and back to their breakfast. The drugs had fully worn off and the ache between her legs was enough to make a grown man cry but she kept a soft smile on her face. the acting skills a woman used to hellish periods.

_____line break, brought to you by the bat-mobile______

And so it began, she unintentionally let open the flood gates to the point she knows had to start and end her day with a hit. Jason was like a damn rabbit now that she had tapped his ass once. She was having to get up early, shoot up, and sneak back into bed feigning a bathroom stop before they got frisky, every damn morning. Then when she got home from work, if he was there. And again before/after he dealt with patrol. He was insatiable and on week three she was out of morphine and so sore she could barley sit down. She'd lost a good ten pounds, unable to eat. Her mind telling her the only reason Jay was still with her was for sex. Which was ridiculous since they hadn't started until 4ish months into the relationship, a record for him she was sure. Having to fake a headache to get out of activities tonight she was mentally shoving him out the window to patrol. She needed to meet her supplier. It had started out her using it for migraines, those of you that get them know sometimes death is favorable so it was the only thing she found that even touched them. Finally, finally he slipped out and uttered a quick I love you which she returned. She waited about 20 minutes to be sure he was far enough away before taking the door and stairs like a civilized person. A wad of cash tucked in her bra, and her Glock in its rib holster.

_______

"Sugar, I've missed ya," a skeevy voice said from the alley she'd just stepped into.

"I've missed your product," she replied easily. He was a pig, but he was a greedy pig and as long as she paid he didn't come within a yard of her.

"Always the sweet talker."

"Hard not to be in such amazing company." With a chain-smoker chuckle he tossed her a box, and she caught it with ease, not even bothering to check it's contents before she passed him a pre-counted stack. The transaction complete she gave him a thank you nod and turned to leave when a shadow landed in front of her. And fuck it was batman.

"Hey, batsy, I got this one," she said with false confidence but held her ground blocking his path to her favorite supplier.

"Who are you?"

"A friend of Dickie's and like I said I got this one," she said again, nodding to the man behind her.

"Dickie's," he asked in the same tone he does everything.

"Our boy in blue," she said with a smile. Please take a hint and fuck off old man.

"Go," he commanded the dealer who didn't need to be told twice, taking off at a run far away from them.

"How do you know him?"

"Relax, BW, I'm just doing my part to clean the streets for the youth of out future," she all but gagged at the line. He grabbed her arm and yanked her off her feet dangling her in the air before him with a deep scowl. Saved by the bell a shrill scream cut through the night and he dropped her like a sack of potatoes to head towards the sound.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she yelled after his retreating form. a bruise blooming on her ankle.

See masterlist for more

8-7-24

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guitarloser444 · 1 year ago

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🦇— Letters From Above || ghost! Eddie Munson x fem!reader || ch.2

Summary— You and your ghost have settled in well with eachother, but you still can’t talk. Que a ouija board and a phone call, and now Dustin is in your house and you’ve learned what happened to your boyfriend. Curious or furious?

Warnings— ANGST. Swearing.

a/n— thanks for the love on my last fic!

word count— 1.9K

You had grown used to him popping up outta nowhere, whether it be when you were doing homework or waking up from your slumber. There he was, staring over your shoulder or sitting beside you, watching TV. The two of you had grown accustomed to your mutualistic relationship. No words had to be spoken to know there was the non-stop knowledge you’d never be able to have any physical connection between the two of you.

Eddie was sitting beside you on the couch, his butt didn’t sink in and leave an impression like it did when he was there. When… when he was alive. He had an arm carefully wrapped around your waist that made your skin feel as cold as ice. You could not feel his arm around you, but you could still pretend you could.

Eddie didn’t smile nearly as often now, keeping a blank expression that had a soft uncertainty to it. He still was bloodied up, and had those gouges that made you feel ill if you looked at them for too long, so you learned to look only at the side of his face that made you feel happy, feel… safe. He never seemed to be nearly as happy now, lingering on what felt like a melancholy state a ghost could only seem to feel. When you smiled, he tried to smile but it would look more like Eddie trying to snarl at you like a dog.

You looked at him and took a deep breath. “I love you.” You said it with so much sadness, Eddie noticed and looked at you. “I wish you could speak to me.” You looked at him, your eyes searching for him.

Eddie grabbed his throat and opened his mouth, trying to speak but nothing happened. He shook his head and looked sadly down at you as if to say ‘I’m sorry.’

You had a thought that hadn’t crossed your mind up until now. You looked at Eddie and got up. “Don’t go anywhere.” You said, pointing a finger at him. “Sit there and stay there.” You backed up, and quickly ran to your room.

A ouija board sat on your shelf in your bedroom, boring its non-existent eyes into yours. Beckoning you to grab it with both hands and march back to the living room. So? You did exactly that. You grabbed it with both hands, and matched back into the living room, holding the board to Eddie.

“It’s a stretch but maybe—” You looked at him, and smiled. “Maybe you can finally speak to me.”

Eddie looked at you, and then the board. His eyes glimmered with hope as you placed the box the board was in on the coffee table. You looked at the box, slowly opening it. The planchette was placed over the ‘GOODBYE’. You took the board out of the box and placed it delicately on the coffee table. His eyes seemed so desperate to speak to you.

You placed the planchette down on the board and in an instant, Eddie was spelling. And it made you smile to see how excited he was to speak with you. You followed his letters with his eyes, keeping a close eye on the board. You couldn’t help but smile everytime you read each letter.

“U.” You looked at the board and wrote it down on a sheet of paper. “P-S-I-D-E.” You looked at the word spelt out on the paper. You looked back at Eddie, confused as to what he was trying to say. He continued to move your hand around. “D-O-W-N.” You scribbled it down, as he moved your hand away from the letters on the board. You looked at him. “Upside down?” You read over the two words, and then back to Eddie. He was smiling eagerly. “What’s upside down? Is it a band?” Your hand was pushed to ‘no’. “Okay? Can you spell out what it is?”

Eddie nodded, and proceeded to spell. Upside down. Place. It was a place you had never heard of, like something from a book or from the city. Not something you had ever heard of from Hawkins. Yeah sure, there was a possibility there was a place called the upside down, but you didn’t know of it and you knew this town inside out… or so you thought?

“Okay. It’s a place.” You looked at him. “Have I been to this place?” Your hand is moved to ‘no’, once again. “Good.” You cooed. You looked at the board. “Do I know anyone aside from you that has?” Your pool of friends were small, so you chose to list names off. “Is it Jeff?” No. “Is it gareth?” No. “Is it Dougie?” No. “Uhhh…” You pursed your lips and tried to rack your brain. “Oh! Dustin? Kid knows a lot.” Bingo. Your planchette lands on yes. You smile. “Okay. Okay good, listen. I’m gonna give him a ring. You–” You look at your notes. “You just–” You didn’t wanna make him leave, but you had to. “You need to go.”

Eddie looked at you, shocked you said he needed to leave seeing as you never wanted him to leave. He nodded slowly, and disappeared out of thin air, and that let you run to the phone and start dialling Dustin’s house phone. It took two rings for someone to pick up. “Hello?” It was a female voice, it must’ve been his mom.

It was the first month of school, back in September and Dustin had just joined Hellfire. He didn’t have a ride, and you had a car. Solution? You were to pick him up on the condition that you had to meet his mother. You pulled up to his home and he came running out of the house.

“Woah there freshmen. I gotta go meet your mom.” You smiled at him. “Get in the car, I’ll be right back. Use my girly charm.” You walked up to his house where his mother was in the doorway, smiling as you walked up the driveway to meet her.

“Claudia, right?” You put a hand out to shake, and she firmly gripped it. “I’m y/n. Dustin,” You were loud enough for Dustin to hear you. “Never told me how beautiful his mother was! I love your hair.” You smiled at her, and she grinned.

Claudia fanned her hand to her face. “You’re too kind. Well, I see you’re a respectful young woman, so I trust you're gonna keep my Dusty safe from harm,” she added. “Well, have a good evening! I’ll see you at nine!” Claudia backed up into her house and closed the door as you walked back down the driveway with thumbs up to Dustin.

“Done.” You got back in the car and slammed your rickety car door.

Now you were speaking to her again. Claudia now, was not fond of you. Ever since the alleged murder of Chrissy Cunningham at the hands of Eddie Munson, you had been ridiculed by a large majority of the town.

“Hi, Claudia!” You put your best peppy tone on. “Is Dustin home? I’ve got a maths question for him.” You lied through your teeth.

“Oh, hi.” You could hear the distaste in her voice. “Yes, Dustin is home, let me get him for you.” She said, and over the mic, you could hear her yell for Dustin to pick up his home phone.

“Hello?” He sounded like he had just woke from a nap.

“Dustin! Hey! I have a question for you.” You looked at your notepad. “What's upside down?”

There was silence. A long, odd silence. “Upside down? Who told you about that?” He sounded unsure of what you had just asked him. “Did Robin?”

“No. Listen, its wild, and– you probably wont believe me but–” You sighed. “Can we talk about it in person? You can never be too sure with these phones whos listening.” You looked at the wall. “Come to my place.” You demanded him.

He hung up abruptly and within the span of thirty minutes, he was breathing hard like he peddled as best as he could to get here. You watched as he ran up your steps and swung your door open. His eyes were wide like he just experienced getting his shit rocked.

“Whatever you’re about to say, I will one-hundred percent believe from here onwards.” Dustin said, walking to your couch and plopped himself down. This was odd.

“Eddie. He– he told me about it. The upside down.” You fidgeted with the hem of your jeans. “I’ve been‒ He’s been visiting me.” You look anywhere but at Dustin, averting his gaze. “Everyday, he’s here. He’s‒”

You're abruptly cut off by Dustin. “He’s a ghost?” Dustin looked at you, a brow raised in suspicion. You nod. “Okay, that conversation we had about a month ago where I didn’t believe you? Yeah, throw that completely out the window.” Dustin changed his position on the couch so you could sit. “Y/n, I have a lot to tell you, and I think it’s best you sit down for this. It’s gonna be a lot to take in at once.”

After about a half-hour long explanation from Dustin, you’re razzled and‒ to put it bluntly; angry. You looked at him as he finally shut up, and stared at you with a sense of urgency for a response. The best response you could give was to go and get a stale beer out of the fridge.

You begin to pace the living room. “You mean to tell me, the boy I love, has been trapped in this ‘other hawkins’, and you didn’t think of telling me this!?” You whip your head to look at Dustin.

“I didn’t think you’d want to know! Nor had the capacity to completely understand without‒” He gestured to all of you. “This response!”

You were blowing smoke out your ears in anger. “This response!? THIS RESPONSE!? DUSTIN,” You tried to calm yourself. “MY BOYFRIEND IS DEAD IN ANOTHER DIMENSION!” You waved your hands in the air. “YEAH. I’M GONNA HAVE THIS RESPONSE!” You looked at Dustin, and walked over furiously, getting in his face. “How the fuck do we get from our world to wherever he is?”

“It’s not that simple y/n!” Dustin proclaims, looking at you with a regretful gaze. “I told you! Vecna would need to open another gate up for us to even get the chance of making it to the upside down!”

“So what? We have to wait however long it takes for this Vecna guy to heal himself back up and then go find Eddie!? What if he’s already‒” You didn’t want to finish that thought and closed your mouth. “Dustin, we need to get him back. Please.” You begged. “I’d do anything just to be able to hold him, just one last time.” You looked down, tears welled up in your eyes.

“Knowing Vecna, within a matter of a couple months, he will be rolling back through Hawkins. You’ve seen what he’s done to our home, we are on our way to being the next‒” He furrowed his brows. “Wait a minute.” He got up. “The earthquake. It cut through town and that was an opening to the upside down.”

You looked at him. “Okay and?” You furrowed your brows in a deep confusion, unsure what to think now. What Dustin pulling your leg or was he being serious?

Dustin walked to your phone. “I think I have a way.”

───────────────────────

ch.1

#stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n

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pasteloctoz · 10 months ago

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Damihux

Christmas ass lookin colors

My favorite couple bc these beautiful specimens need more appreciations.

any trigger warnings will be seperated from the rest and put at the bottom (probably not too many, its just a precaution :])

Hux is pan n transmasc, Damien is queer.

Search up frederic chen on yt (love their content) the way they dress/do make up is how i imagine damien dresses especially after not talking to his mom as much (bc he doesnt feel the pressure of her looming over him anymore.) And ppl like gavin pushing him to try new things.

Hux does the thing that Nick does in Heartstopper. "I'm bi, not gay" but instead he says pan. Bc pan/bi representation is important!!!

Hux is African-American and his other mom is Puerto-Rican (is that how you spell it?) So he grew up with Puerto Rica culture. While Damien is Mexicana. Sometimes they'll use some random slang that they grew up with in their respective houshold and the other will be just- slightly confused as to what it means.

They have a cat named shrimp and huxley calls him their firstborn child. To which damien deems "stupid" or "dumb" while being so flushed hed practically be a working furnace

Hux looks at damien with that loveheart eye look where you just KNOW hes admiring his partner like theyre the only light in the world. When Damien notices he just asks, "....... what?....." while a bit flushed.

Huxley never had the money to get top surgery until after he graduated from Damn. His moms wanted to help pay but he insisted that they didn't have to worry about it.

Once he's gotten top surgery, Damien does nothing but worry and take care of him. They would be attached at the fuckin hip istg-

Hux's favorite game is Dark Souls and everytime Damien tries to play it he gets angry and eventually just ends up leaning on hux and watching him play.

Damien is a big fucking fan of the final fantasy games. But somehow the only time hes gotten Hux to play a game made by the studio is fucking kingdom hearts. (Nothing against kingdom hearts i love kingdom hearts)

Tw: Tabacco/Vape mentions, homophobia mentions, suggestive

If you find any of these triggering feel free to scroll past (it will be in small font like this), meanwhile have a picture of my dog :D

Damien is probably more likely to vape/smoke than hux bc of his anxiety. Hux would honestly be more of a clean lungs advocate (he doesn't judge ppl who use drugs though- its not his buisness).

Usually when ppl are being homophobic to the two, hux calms damien down but one time damien just grabbed hux by the cheeks and gave him a real sloppy kiss. Casually took hux's hand afterward and teasingly whispered "scared them off, didnt we?"

Like- we know hux is always gonna make the first move but you cant tell me there hasnt been atleast once where damien made hux so flushed roses were growing out of his locs.

#Ive had this in my drafts for like a week finished #I just didnt wanna tag it #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted headcanons #redacted huxley #redacted damien #damihux #redacted damn crew #☠️ hcs #pansexual #queer #transmasc

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sweetbunpura · 2 months ago

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No. 8 SLEEP DEPRIVATION (Word Count: 556)

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

While the limits of sleeping spells were known, one which could be broken by true love, a sleep deprivation spell was widely unknown and the knowledge for how to break one was lost to time. Silver looked at Yuu as she laid her upper body against the desk, she had recently been hit with a sleep deprivation spell and he had been tasked with watching her as Lilia and Malleus went searching for a way to break it. Sebek tagged along with them as well, claiming he would protect them in case any foul monsters tried to stop them.

Everytime he felt himself nodding off, Silver had to shake himself awake when he remembered Yuu. It was currently her fourth night awake and while she seemed to be taking this fine, inside he knew she was way more annoyed then she was letting on. With a huff, she switched to leaning back in her chair and crossed her arms. The metal cuff that Silver had placed on her gleamed under the lights of Diasomnia. The third night awake had caused Yuu to start hallucinating and the attached cuff was put on to prevent her from hurting anyone or herself.

“Pretty boring guard job, huh?”

Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he glanced over to Yuu, she was rocking on the chair by its back legs. The prefect’s eyes were closed as she tapped away a beat on her arm with her fingers.

“It’s not boring if I can keep you safe.”

A very tired green eye opens to look at him. “Stop lying, Silver.”

“I’m not, it’s the truth.” He yawns and shakes his head. “My apologies if I made it seem as such.”

Yuu grumbles and leans far enough back in the chair that it crashes to the ground. Silver watches as she makes no move to get up and instead glares up at the ceiling.

“Why does this shit always happen to me, I don’t understand.”

He joins her on the floor. “Fate finds a way-”

“To piss me off.” She sighs. “I wonder… If you had gotten hit instead, would they have canceled each other out?”

Silver pauses as he thinks about it. If they did cancel each other out, would he be able to have a proper sleeping schedule? And finally sleep when he wanted to, not when he was forced to? As he ruminates on that, the human looks down at the Ramshackle dorm leader. Yuu looks absolutely miserable as she starts dragging her nails across her skin, leaving behind angry red marks as she digs them in.

“Please don’t.” He gently reaches over and grabs her hands. “You’ll regret it once you come back to your senses.”

“At least then the stinging pain would be a reason for me to stay awake.” Yuu hisses out and turns on her side so her back is facing Silver. “I wanna go to bed…”

Silver can only sigh and rub another bout of the sleeping spell out of his eyes as he rubs Yuu’s back in an attempt to comfort her. He’d stay with her and be by her side for however long it took for his father, Malleus and Sebek to return. Silver just hoped it would be soon, the human body can only go so long without sleep….

#whumptober 2024 #no.8 #twisted wonderland #twst silver #yuu homura

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ouch-thats-harsh · 2 years ago

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Cupid -> bakugou x reader

Warning: is kinda angsty, nothing other than that also sorry if the reader seems heartless somewhere

Can Bakugou Katsuki fall in love?

Can cupid fall in love?

Cupid's arrow, some liked it, gave them butterflies and heart eyes

Some didn't, their hearts ached uncontrollablely

That's why, some resented you and some awaited your arrival

But can cupid's heart ache?

You simply wanted to shoot your arrow at this boy, he always resisted, always focused on his ambition

You couldn't help but grow curious, stick around trying to make him fall

You thought you did it when he "fell" for mirko

He shook it off so easily, were you growing weak?

You shot him so many times with your heart shaped arrows, you stuck around more,thought of him more, to the point it felt like he could see you

He could

Atleast little glimpses of this ethereal being, shinning skin, beautiful eyes, the way your hand gently held the bow, its arch looked like your upperlip

Everytime he got a glimpse, he would try to find something new in you even if it was subconsciously

You occupied his thoughts, made him yearn for your arrival, it didn't even take an arrow for this to happen

He resented you, he resisted you, he was angry and lost all his control being furious at you but then he gave in

Now his heart ached, heartbroken eyes and he had no clue of a cure

You knew what you had accidentally done

This had no possible remedy

Was he to aimlessly search for the cure, your lips?

Was it even possible?

Your hands felt heavy, your heart felt heavy, was it guilt ?

You knew he could feel your presence, he followed you like a fool, broken by your spell

Then You revealed yourself

Two years

He ached for a year and you stuck around for two thinking he could shake it off this time too

He fell on his knees on the roof of his house

"Why?" He sounded so tired

"I can't, katsuki" you sounded tired too

The way his name came from your lips, the same lips he wished he could kiss, brought the dull ache back, now it stung

How could you be so cruel?

"I can't love you, I'm not supposed too" you reasoned

"But you do, right? Why are you lying to yourself?" His anger started seeping through, it was him heart broken. You knew what he said was true, you knew that

"That's why i have to stop it, love" you said kneeling in front of him

You reached out and tried to hold him, he didn't resist

He held onto you

Your skin had the warmth of the sun, it was blinding how beautiful you were, gods thought he wouldn't fall for anyone and now they pitied him

You held his face, "I'm sorry"

Your eyes, now he could see them clearly, they looked like the ocean, so vast and clear, his own reflection felt divine in them

You inched closer, "forgive me"

His lips moved to yours in a welcome, finally feeling content

His body felt light after so long

Flutters in the pit of his stomach

No more aching

You seperated from him tears rolling from your eyes, "forgive me, katsuki"

He simply smiled

"I have nothing to forgive you for anymore" he said with a small defeated smile and his eyes closed with exhaustion

He won't remember you anymore and you won't let him

You left him alone on that roof, never to return

He woke up the next day and day after that, not a single memory of you

You were aching now

How could you be so cruel?

A/n : well hello, i wanted to post for so long, anyways this is heavily inspired by cupid, jack stauber

Reblogs are very much appreciated, stay safe and well cupids<33

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cranetreegang · 1 year ago

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Home at Last - Ominis x FemReader

Summary: Ominis finally returns to the Gaunt Estate. It's all that he remembers, except he's the one who's changed. He navigates his parents in search of any clues about Ancient Magic and his ancestors.

Word Count: ~7,200 words

Read my other Ominis Fics Here

Warnings: Child abuse, mentions of child abuse, manipulation

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Standing in front of the iron gate, Ominis clenches his wand tightly in one hand and his suitcase in the other. Despite not having been back to the Estate in years, it all feels the exact same. The gate resonates with layers of protective charms and dark magic. He can barely make out the circular emblem locking the gate in place, which he’s sure has a gaudy ‘G’ etched at the center. The feelings he used to harbor for this place hasn’t changed either as his feet refuse to move to take the final steps forward.

He closes his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath, then finally approaches. The gate shutters open for the wayward heir and he walks towards the manor. Under his boots, he feels patches of grass growing between the once trimmed stone path - occasionally kicking some loose bricks as he passes. The steps leading up to the door aren’t fairing much better, deteriorating under his weight and he hears the sounds of pebbles and debris hitting the ground.

The massive double door is his last chance to turn around. With one last sharp inhale, Ominis flick his wand at the door. It groans and whines as it slowly opens. Ominis steps inside, the smells of old wood and marble greet him along with a scent of dust. The still silence sends a brief chill down his spine then the door slams shut, echoing throughout the manor in a deafening boom and rattling him. His back straightens and he knows there’s no turning back now.

He notes how there’s not as much furniture by the entryway. In fact, as he walks through the manor towards his old bedroom, the place is practically sparse. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought they had moved without telling him. But, he does know the harsh truth of the matter and he can’t stop a scornful smirk at how much his proud family has fallen. Oh, if Salazar Slytherin could see the deteriorating state of his esteemed bloodline now, Ominis laughs to himself. There hasn’t even been a single house elf scurrying through the halls, now that he thinks of it. Indeed, his family is truly in tough times for his Mother to forgo her house elves.

He rounds the corner and heads down the long hallway of the east wing towards the last door on the right. With another flick of his wand, his wards pacify then the bedroom door unlocks and shudders open. Waving his wand around, he’s surprised to find he still has a bed. It seems his room is wholly untouched - his four poster bed on the far right wall, his large oak desk in front of him against the window, then his wardrobe on the left wall.

Setting his suitcase on the bed, creating a cloud of dust in the air, his mind starts to drift back to his days here - his days before the Sallow twins and Hogwarts. A soft sigh escapes him as he heads towards his old desk.

Through the layer of grime, his fingertips find the familiar scratches and knicks exactly as they were. He sits down in the chair and recites a spell to unlock the drawers. Notes, books, amateur drawings, and other various knick knacks are tucked away inside - all as he left it. One journal in particular gets his attention. The leatherbound book is cool against his touch and he flips open to a random page to read.

Each day feels like a struggle, a battle. I don’t know what’s worse - Father when he ignores my existence entirely, or when he does acknowledge my presence.

I yearn for his approval. I try to be the son he wishes me to be. But everytime I try, I’m only met with his harsh, cruel words as he berates me - his words laced with obvious disdain and disapproval. It’s days like today that I’m thankful for my blindness, so as to not see the matching disgust which accompanies these words.

Cimsy was able to procure me the spellbook I requested, and I’ve managed to create charms to protect my room and desk. After the incident with Marvolo, I pray I’m able to find brief sanctuary in my room. It’s a shallow comfort - as these charms are rudimentary at best - but I take it all the same.

Next year, I’ll be at Hogwarts. Next year, I’ll be far, far away from here. Next year, I’ll become just as talented as all the wizards I’ve read about in my stories. I’ll be a hero - rising above adversity and slaying fearsome monsters.

Ominis skims his wand over the entry several times, recalling that day all too well. Many memories he hasn’t thought about start to surface. He gently places the journal on the desk then reaches back inside the drawer. Searching along the underside, he feels a shallow, circular indent - which he presses. A soft click reaches his ears and he smiles, tracing along the side until a protruding piece of wood meets his fingers. He opens it, his fingers just barely touching the hidden contents.

“Young Master.”

Shutting the drawer with a swift movement, Ominis whips his head around with a scowl, which quickly melts into a more gentle expression once he realizes who’s at the door.

“Cimsy,” Ominis grins as he stands. “It’s been too long. How are you?”

The old house elf limps into the room, her bare feet dragging on the marble floor.

“Cimsy is most pleased to see the young Master back,” Cimsy sounds more worn, aged, and tired than he recalls. He holds back his pitying frown as Cimsy continues.

“Cimsy has been quite busy since the others were sold. Cimsy tried to clean your room before you arrived, young Master, but Cimsy could not get in. Clever charms, young Master. Too clever for Cimsy.”

“I apologize. I forgot they were in place before I left,” Ominis smiles, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you, Cimsy. Truly. I've missed you, and our walks in the garden.”

Cimsy chuckles, airy and weak, “Cimsy has missed the young Master Gaunt as well. Cimsy has been sent to retrieve the young Master. Mistress Gaunt wishes to see you, young Master.”

Ominis’ smile fades into a tight grimace, and he nods, “Very well. I shouldn’t keep her waiting. Lead the way.”

Cimsy bows, then starts her slow shuffle towards the parlor room.

Along the way, Ominis is reminiscent of all the times he’s walked to the parlor - through all the winding, rug covered hallways and past all the portraits no doubt staring at him as he goes by. Cimsy opens the door to the parlor and a rush of warm air hits his face.

“Mistress Gaunt, the young Master is here, as requested.”

Ominis strides into the room, registering the presence of his mother by the window lounging on the chaise. By the way her arm is angled, she’s no doubt holding onto a wine glass.

“Have lunch prepared, Cimsy,” Mother’s voice is cold, detached, and without inflection. It sends a shiver down his spine despite the order not being towards him.

“Right away, Mistress,” Cimsy says, snapping her fingers to apparate to the kitchens.

Mother sets down her glass with a clink then rises from her perch. She slowly turns to face him and Ominis feels her sharp eyes upon him. She flows towards him with soft steps and the air chills once she’s in front of him. He notices that she’s not as tall as she once was as she’s no longer able to loom over him. Instead, it appears he’s at least above eye level with her.

“Oh, my little Ominis,” she coos in a far warmer tone than earlier. The change has always jarred him, but he maintains a neutral expression - even when her cold hands cup either side of his cheeks.

She turns his head, examining him, “My, my, how you’ve grown into such a handsome young man.”

Her long fingers stroke through his hair - landing on the back of his neck to bring him into her embrace. Ominis is stiff in her arms as she places a kiss on the top of his head.

“I have missed you, my darling boy,” she whispers. The stench of tart wine fans across his face. Her strong perfume consumes the rest of his senses.

“I’ve missed your letters, my sweetling. Do you know how much worry and anguish I’ve been in? Do you even care?”

Ominis winces at her sweetly sharp tone, her nails threatening to rip into him. He replies as evenly as he can.

“I apologize, Mother. I didn’t mean to cause you distress. My coursework is quite demanding and it requires my full attention.”

Mother’s hands move to his shoulders, her nails digging into him as she yanks him out of her bosom. The heat of her glare prickles his skin and he does well in keeping his blank expression.

“‘Full attention’?! Are you saying I am not worthy of your ‘precious’ attention? After all I’ve sacrificed for you? After all I’ve done for you! This is how you repay my kindness? My love?” her voice wavers, signaling the beginning of tears starting to form.

Ominis swallows the lump in his throat, “I didn’t mean to upset you, Mother. I know you’ve done much for me. Which is why I’m here now.”

She tsk’s then seethes, “You’ve been running away from your duties. Your responsibilities. I have done everything for you. I have created a path that’s best for you, yet you continue to act like a juvenile. I never should’ve allowed you to go off to that school. It’s pulled you too much away from me.”

“Please, Mother,” he says calmly, “Hogwarts is what’s best for me. You said so yourself. If I’m to be truly worthy as your son, then I must be educated. You know this.”

Sensing her growing annoyance and rage, he quickly adds, “I’ve longed to be here with you, Mother. I… missed you. And I haven’t forgotten my duties. I’m trying to prepare for them - as to make you proud. I only want to be a worthy son to you, Mother.”

She’s silent, her hold on his shoulders relax and she shifts a hand up to cup his cheek once more. He remains stoic and still, suppressing the chills and discomfort behind clenched teeth.

“You’ve changed,” she coos while rubbing her thumb across his cheek. “For the better it seems. It’s good you’ve come to your senses. And for you to return home. Return to me.”

He can’t bring himself to force a smile, so he only nods, “Of course, Mother.”

Mother sighs, letting him go then taking his arm to lead him, “Come. Let us eat. I’m sure you’re starving.”

Ominis doesn’t fight her, he needs her. At least until he finds what he’s looking for. Until then, he’ll play the part he knows so well - the good, obedient son.

Arriving at the dining room, they sit across from one another while Cimsy brings out their meal. A bland watery broth wafts up to his nose along with the welcoming scent of warm, fresh bread.

“Cimsy!” Mother hisses. “Surely this must be a joke. You do have something else prepared.”

He hears Cimsy wring her hands together as she stammers, “C-Cimsy is deeply sorry, Mistress. Cimsy could o-only make this. Mistress did not give Cimsy enough to buy-,”

“Shut up!”

Cimsy silences immediately while his Mother fumes. Ominis grips his spoon tightly, wishing he could speak up. But, he remains silent.

“Leave us. I expect something more worthwhile at dinner,” Mother sneers.

Cimsy doesn’t hesitate to leave. Their meal is in silence, thankfully. Once it’s done, Ominis finally decides to ask,

“Mother, would it be alright if I were to read through some of the records in the archives?”

There’s a long silence and Ominis holds his tongue to keep from groveling. His true intentions are on full display and he worries he may have shown too much.

“Why?” She questions.

“It’s time I’ve learned more of our namesake and heritage. I want to continue family traditions,” he replies quickly with the excuse he’s been repeating in his head since he first arrived.

Another long silence, and his tongue is bleeding from his sharp teeth digging into the flesh.

“I’ve been looking forward to this day,” Mother beams as she stands. Ominis releases a breath, going to stand as she continues, “Our family history is one which many don’t have the privilege of knowing.”

She goes over to Ominis, gripping his arm again as she leads him to the library. He can’t deny his excitement, his curiosity. The implications of his ancestors having a connection to Ancient Magic would give him as many questions as answers. He wonders if his path was always meant to intertwine with his love’s. The thought troubles him - the idea of him and her fated to be together instead of wanting to be doesn’t sit well with him. That his actions up to this point have been meaningless as they were always meant to happen this way. He shoves the idea aside, not wishing to dwell on the possibility any longer.

Mother pulls him through the dusty library to the locked room at the back. She produces her key, the door softly unlocks then opens, and they head inside the musty room. Mother taps a glass object and he hears the soft humming of what he assumes to be lights. Despite not having been in the archives in some time, it’s exactly as he remembers it.

The archives is a long rectangular room, adorned with shelves, cabinets, and display cases. The air carries a faint scent of aged paper and taxidermy beasts - beasts that have long since been wiped to extinction. Framed portraits of ancestors, their watchful gazes keeping a vigil over the room, stare into Ominis. He can imagine the sneers of these portraits as the disapproving mumblings of his blindness reach his ears.

Along the walls, rows of sturdy wooden shelves stretch from floor to ceiling, neatly organized and laden with volumes of journals, diaries, and bound manuscripts. Cabinets with glass doors stand proudly, showcasing delicate heirlooms and cherished mementos. A silver pocket watch, a set of wands, and worn leather gloves are among the treasures preserved.

In the center of the room, a large oak table serves as a workspace, adorned with magnifying glasses, quills and ink, and carefully arranged parchment paper.

The room exudes a sense of order and purpose, meticulously sorted and organized through generations. If there is one thing the Gaunt’s pride themselves on - it’s their family heritage.

“Ah, where to begin?” Gliding around the room, her fingers dance along the spines of journals and tomes until she stops on one. She pulls it from the shelf and flips it open.

“Gormalith will be of interest to you,” she begins then dives right into reading a rather boring account of what Gormalith had for breakfast and the subsequent torture of the house elf which made him said breakfast.

Before she can continue, Ominis interjects, “I was hoping I could find a certain time frame.”

Mother stares at him, shutting the book with a huff, “And what time frame would that be, Ominis?”

“I was thinking upon it the other day, and I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with any of our history during the 15th century.”

He can feel her brow raise, but she hums as she heads to the other side of the room. He follows, and notes when she lingers on a certain row of books.

“I doubt a boy your age would be interested in that era,” Mother dismisses then heads towards another shelf. “You would be far more pressed to know about Aron and his exploits in the east. In fact, he was able to capture a Ceasg during his voyage across the North Sea.”

Ominis’ brows pinch, but he suppresses his aggravation with a stiff nod, “If that’s what you believe is best.”

Mother continues to read to him about the accounts of his ancestors, and Ominis nods along - his mind drifting to the one row which she lingered at. As the afternoon shifts to evening, Ominis senses his mother growing bored of the history lesson.

“We should check on Cimsy to ensure dinner is being prepared,” she shuts the diary and grabs onto his arm.

“I wouldn’t mind staying here for a moment longer,” Ominis states then quickly adds, “If that’s alright.”

Her grip on his arm tightens, “You shouldn’t be in here by yourself, my sweetling.”

“I can handle myself,” he replies far too sharply. Her nails dig into him to confirm as much. “Besides, I’m utterly fascinated by our family heritage.”

“Ominis-,”

“You were saying I’ve been neglecting my duties,” he says as calmly as he can. “Perhaps this is the best way for me to understand my place. To appreciate the path you’ve set out for me, and understand my role in our family.”

Another long pause makes his shoulders tense.

She has a light, amused laugh before she places a kiss on his cheek, “Oh, my curious little boy. Very well, I’ll leave you to it,” she places the key into his palm. “Lock up when you’re done. I’ll have Cimsy come fetch you when dinner is ready.”

Mother leaves, and Ominis lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He stuffs the key into his pocket then heads quickly over to the shelf he’s been dying to investigate all day. He grabs as many journals as he can carry and takes them to the oak table. Plopping down into the worn leather chair, he begins to skim through the diaries.

According to what his love told him, Isidora would’ve been at Hogwarts in her youth around the 1450’s with the latest dates being before 1500 - when she became a professor. He grimaces at how wide of a year range that leaves him, but she also mentioned Headmistress Fitzgerald serving Hogwarts during that time frame. Rackham, Rookwood, and Bakar were also names he could search for. Hopefully, that’ll be enough for him to go on.

He’s barely made it through the first diary when Cimsy informs him of dinner being ready. Ominis is reluctant to leave, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. As he heads back to the dining room, he stops at his room - free from prying eyes. He takes out the archives key and conjures a duplicate. Satisfied, he hides the key in his desk then heads to dinner.

The air in the dining room is tense, and Ominis pauses for a moment as he enters the room. His father is at the head of the table while his mother is sat next to him. Ominis is hesitant as he takes his place across from his mother. The stench of scented smoke and tobacco emanates from his father. Some things truly haven’t changed, Ominis muses to himself.

Cimsy summons forth their dinner, a roast with potatoes and carrots, then she refills his mother and father’s drinks.

Ominis isn’t unfamiliar with the tense atmosphere - especially if his father is near - but it unsettles him all the same. The quiet clanking of their silver utensils hitting the fine china and chewing is the only noises to be heard. Ominis tries his best to not look like he’s rushing to finish eating, but he longs to leave this dinner.

“It seems you received a letter today,” Mother says in a low voice.

Fear clasps around his throat before he tilts his head with feign surprise, “Oh? From who?”

Paper rustles and tears, sending his heart beating frantically in his chest.

“Dearest Ominis,” Mother begins with a terse frown lacing her voice, “I hope you arrived safely. I miss you already. I hope to hear from you soon. Sincerely yours.”

Ominis lets out a quiet breath, thankful she did not write anything too sweet to him.

“Who is this?” Mother questions.

“A friend from school,” Ominis replies with no hesitation.

More rustling of paper as Mother re-reads the letter once again.

“And this friend,” Mother draws out, “who are they?”

“Just a friend. Nothing more,” Ominis counters.

“Friends do not write, ‘I miss you already’.”

Ominis can’t help his smirk, “Perhaps not yours.”

Mother scoffs, igniting the letter on fire - the smoke reaching his nose and making him scowl.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it? This friend?” Mother hisses. “Tell me, are you involved with her?”

“I’ve already said, she’s a friend. Nothing more. I don’t know what else you wish me to say on the matter. I can’t control what she writes. Perhaps she does hold some infatuation with me, but I do not return the affection,” Ominis clenches his jaw, his hand gripping on to his pants.

He hates it. The lies. But, he can’t afford to argue with Mother. Not when he’s only just started his search.

“She’s a Mudblood, isn’t she? It’s why you aren’t telling me her name,” Mother states. “Filthy things. I’m not surprised one is trying so hard to cling to you. She probably sees you as her only real way to any sort of status.”

He sits straighter, suppressing his anger at his mother’s vulgarity, “No. She’s not of pure standing, so you know I have no real interest in her.”

“You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Mudbloods in the first place,” Father’s deep, grating voice interjects with disapproval lacing his words. “Even speaking of them is enough to ruin my appetite.”

“Your father is right. Why are you writing to a Mudblood?” Mother demands. “She’s not worth your time. Not when there are plenty of others you would do well to correspond with.”

“She… has connections,” Ominis states. “Connections I require.”

“What sort of connections? What connections could a lowly half-breed possibly offer you that I cannot provide?” Mother’s voice raises with every word.

“Does it matter? Shouldn’t you be pleased that I’m at least capable of forming connections on my own?” Ominis hates how quickly he’s rising to her goading. But he can’t stop himself. “With how things are going here, it’s a wonder you aren’t praising me for finding anyone willing to associate with us.”

“Do not speak to me that-,”

“Enough!” Father’s voice booms as he slams his hand down on the table - rattling all the dishes. “I grow weary of this discussion and your disrespect. Leave!”

Ominis doesn’t need further prompting and he quickly rises from his chair. Before he can fully leave, his mother’s voice calls out.

“Leave the key.”

He sighs, going through his pockets to produce the duplicate, and slams it at the end of the dining table. Then he quickly retreats to his room. As soon as the door shuts, he falls back against the door with a heavy breath.

He wishes this was the first time a dinner had gone sourly, but alas it isn’t - and it won’t be the last. The dusty smell from earlier has faded and he catches the faintest aroma of clean sheets. Oh Cimsy, he smiles to himself. She does too much for him.

Pushing himself off the door, he heads to his desk to write to his love - since going to the archives now would be risky. The stationary in the top drawer is slick under his fingers, and he enchants the quill to begin writing.

He lays in bed, waiting as time moves slowly by. He hopes to leave soon to continue his reading. With his siblings being mercifully absent, he can somewhat relax as he waits. His mind drifts to her. What might she be up to? He focuses on her, and he senses her worry, concern, and anticipation.

Turning to his side, he reaches out in a vain attempt to feel her next to him - to comfort her. She voiced her displeasure of him going as he left, and her concerns were valid. But, he’s tired of sitting idly by as she wrestles with this Ancient Magic on her own.

The tips of his fingers warm and, for a moment, it’s like she’s touching him back. In his mind’s eyes, he can picture the dip in the bed of her laying next to him - facing him with a soft smile as he traces her face. Despite having just been with her, it feels like they’ve been apart for too long.

“Don’t worry, my sweet,” he whispers. “I promise I’m fine, and I’ll return to you soon.”

Feather light touches brush along his cheek and comb through his hair. A pleasant shiver rolls down his spine, and the pull of sleep starts to draw him deeper into her phantom caresses. With a sigh, he reluctantly gets up from the bed and heads to the archives.

Sneaking towards the library is a feat he’s done numerous times. He has all the portraits which would rat him out mapped, and since he doesn’t require the aid of light he can stay hidden in the dark the whole time. Once in the archives, he continues reading the journal from earlier.

He repeats this process over the course of the week, growing more and more frustrated as the days pass. Navigating his mother and dealing with the forced dinners is exhausting enough, but reading through the mundane, sadistic ramblings of his ancestors is a form of torture in itself. He barely sleeps, not that he has any desire to in this place.

Since the letter, Mother has felt it apt for him to truly understand why Mudbloods are ‘lower, primitive beings’. These ‘lessons’ are enough to bring him to the edge. He’s nearly voiced his displeasure on several occasions, if not for the reminder that he hasn’t found what he’s looking for yet. And if he were to go against his mother now, then everything would have been for nought. So, he remains silent, letting his mother prattle on.

He gets a brief solace when Mother is ‘too tired to deal with him’, allowing him to roam about without her watchful gaze. It’s in these moments he retreats to the gardens - overgrown and dying - and he naps in his secluded spot behind the bushes under the gnarly tree.

It’s another late night as he flips through the pages of Amphelisia’s diary, finding her accounts to mirror his own in terms of schooling. It’s during her Fifth Year that things get interesting.

I can’t believe the events that transpired today. By my troth, a student joined Hogwarts as a Fifth Year! Completely unheard of. I didn’t hear her name over Mathias’ prattling, but she was sorted into Ravenclaw. Tragic really, as I would’ve been keen on observing her.

How could someone be admitted into Hogwarts so late - is the question on everyone’s lips. I’m determined to find out more anon.

Ominis nearly rips the page as he quickly turns it to find out more. He skims through the entries until a familiar name jumps out at him.

Isidora Morganach is by far the most ghastly, presumptuous girl I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. Not only does she have all the professors charmed, but she has most of the class absolutely enamored. Methinks it’s because she’s new, and, similar to a two-headed beast, she’s a spectacle.

But the final insult was when we had our mock duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. She swiftly dispatched my Protego charm as if I didn’t even have it up then she knocked me off the platform. The entire class laughed. LAUGHED! At me! I shan't forget this.

He can’t believe it. He’s finally found mentions of Isidora. He continues his reading until another entry strikes his interest.

Isidora may have her uses after all. In Transfiguration, I struggled with the conjuration of a simple cup. Meanwhile, Isidora had no issue conjuring her own. Before Professor Rookwood could see, Isidora conjured a cup right on my desk. Professor Rookwood was so impressed with me, he used ‘my cup’ as an example for the rest of the class. Perhaps, befriending her may be advantageous to me.

A few entries later, he finds mentions of Amphelisia showing the Undercroft to Isidora as their own private hideaway. He grins as he reads over their growing, albeit reluctant, friendship. But as he finishes the diary, there’s no mention of Ancient Magic. Amphelisia comments on Isidora being gifted in magic, with her spells being quite powerful, but Isidora never discloses the nature of it to Amphelisia.

Ominis searches the shelves, summoning down more of Amphelisia’s dairies. He knows the hour is growing later - with the morning soon upon him - but he’s close. He has to be. It isn’t until Amphelisia is a young woman when Isidora is mentioned again.

I received the strangest owl today. My old friend, Isidora, wrote to me. The contents of the letter were somewhat troubling, but she insisted we meet. I shall see what she wants, and I pray it isn’t a waste of time.

The next entry makes him scowl.

Isidora gave me a book of some kind. Locked, and I have no way of opening it despite my best efforts. Always the clever one. I’m tempted to throw it away as burning it does nothing.

The rest of Amphelisia’s diary makes no mention of Isidora’s book, nor what she decided to do with it. Ominis paces the room, scanning the shelves for any signs of this possible journal. He frowns - cursing Amphelisia for possibly throwing away the one clue he desperately needed. Collapsing in the leather chair, Ominis debates about continuing his reading or leaving. He taps his wand in thought when a familiar vibration makes him pause.

His breath catches in his throat as he turns his wand towards the source. It’s… just like hers. He scrambles from his seat, rushing towards the vibration at the corner. Throwing open the cabinet door, he pulls out the boxes until he’s able to reach the one he’s needing. He tears his way into the box, shoving aside the various knick knacks and trinkets until his whole arm shoots up with magical sparks.

There, in his hand, is a journal. He slowly picks it up and cradles the leather-bound journal in both of his hands as if it were a delicate, priceless jewel. He laughs, almost manically. This is it. It had to be.

Footsteps approach the door to the archive and Ominis can’t spare any more time in rejoicing. He shoves the journal into his coat pocket then he grabs a random object in the box to hold.

The door flies open and Mother storms inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She exclaims as she strides over to where he is.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Mother?” His reply is calm and level.

She stands above him and snarls, “It looks like you’ve made a mess of things in here.”

Ominis places the artifact he’s holding into the box and rises up. He’s practically eye level with her and he doesn’t back down from her scornful gaze. He feels her take a step back.

“H-How did you even get in here?” She questions in a quiet voice.

“I made a copy of the key, obviously,” he replies with a smirk.

“You…,” she falls silent. “You… insolent little child!”

The air parts and the sound of skin hitting skin rings in the air. His cheek blooms in a heated flame and he registers the pain which accompanies it. He turns his head back towards her, unphased.

“If you’re done, I’ll take my leave,” he says in an eerily calm tone.

He doesn’t wait, but instead brushes past her and heads out of the room. He hears her calling his name, but her cries fall on deaf ears. Once in his room, he’s quick to write to his love - informing her of his finding and his soon to be departure. His hand shakes as he commands the quill to write, giddy to be with her once again. As soon as his owl takes flight, it doesn’t take him long to have his bag packed.

Before he leaves the room, he goes back to his desk. So many memories, tucked away - and likely to be burned once he leaves. He sits back at the desk, reaching into the drawer to find the protruding piece of wood. He opens the secret compartment to grab what he’s kept hidden for so long.

He holds the ring delicately in his fingers. The cold metal is intricate with stones inlaid within the band to accent the well-sized jewel at the center. He’s sure it’s a beautiful piece of jewelry. A frown comes over him at having left it here in the first place. Aunt Noctua gave it to him before she left - believing he needed an heirloom for himself since he was bound to not receive any.

Aunt Noctua made him promise to keep it safe. At the time, he was so angry with her leaving him that he threw it in the garden. Cimsy was the one to place the ring on his desk one afternoon, polished and clean of dirt. He hid it in the desk after. Feeling over the ring, a smile starts to form on his lips. He tucks the ring into his pocket then he’s out of his room.

It’s Cimsy which awaits him in the main entryway. He makes out her figure hunched over, scrubbing at the floors. Cimsy looks up to him and stops her cleaning efforts.

“Oh, young Master,” her eyes drift over him and she gasps. “A-Are you leaving? So soon?”

Ominis sets his suitcase down and kneels down to be closer to the house elf.

He nods, “I’m afraid I am. I’ve… gotten what I came here for. And I don’t know when I’ll return. If… I’ll return,” he sighs. “I never gave you a proper goodbye last time, Cimsy. I would like to give you one now.”

He holds out his hands and Cimsy places her wrinkled ones in his. He holds her hands with a soft smile.

“You’ve always been kind to me, Cimsy. Thank you. For all you do. And I wish you the best,” he whispers.

Cimsy squeezes his hands, “Cimsy lives to serve the Masters of the Gaunt family. Cimsy is proud of the young Master. Cimsy… wishes you well, young Master.”

Ominis squeezes her hands once more before he stands. He grips his suitcase and wand.

“Goodbye, Cimsy,” he says as he heads towards the grand double door.

Just as he flicks his wand to open the door, frantic footsteps rush towards him.

“Ominis!” Mother practically cries. “Y-You’re leaving? You’re leaving me!?”

Ominis feels the breeze of the mid-morning air hitting his face. The sun is just out of his reach.

“I am,” he says without turning to face her.

“But, you can’t leave me, Ominis. You need me,” she sobs loudly, the sounds twisting his heart. “If it was because of earlier, I’m sorry. But, you know better than to make such a mess! And to sneak in without my permission-, you’ve never been so disobedient! What was I to do?”

“I know. And I apologize for doing such,” he states flatly. “But, my time here is done.”

“No!” Mother hisses as she snags his arm, her nails digging into his flesh through is clothes. “You don’t get to decide when you’re done. You have duties to fulfill. Obligations and responsibilities. You are my son!”

Ominis closes his eyes, sighing to himself with pinched brows. He turns his head towards his mother.

“I’m leaving. And you can’t stop me.”

Yanking himself free, his first step forward is met with her sharp gasp, then the next is a wailing sob, but once he’s in the sun he’s all but free. Going down the steps, Mother cries out.

“Ominis! Ominis!” Mother’s voice is all but a screeching wail, and it sends shivers down his spine at how angry and desperate she sounds. “You can’t leave me! You need me! I love you. I’m the only one who loves you! My little boy! Come back to me! Don’t do this to me, Ominis!”

Ominis can’t stop smiling. There was a time when he believed her words to be true - that no one would ever truly love him. But now, he knows it to be nothing more than empty words meant to chain him. And as he steps through the gate, the weight of those chains all but fall as he continues towards the ones who truly love him.

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

BONUS

She’s putting up the dishes from breakfast when a letter lands on the table. A notable Slytherin crest seal gets her attention. Nearly shattering the plates as she drops them, she rips it open. She’s just reached the end when Sebastian calls out.

“It’s Ominis!”

She’s out the door, finding him walking towards the shop with a bright grin on his face.

“Ominis!” She grins as she rushes towards him.

“Good morning, my-,”

He’s nearly tackled to the ground by her as she throws herself into him. Her arms wrap around his neck and he laughs as he drops his suitcase to embrace her.

“I missed you,” she whispers in his ear, making him hold her tighter.

“And I you,” he whispers back.

She slowly releases him, her hands cupping his face, “Oh, Ominis. You look exhausted.”

Worry bubbles in his chest - stemming from her. He holds her hands, an action he’s been dying to do since he left, and he smiles.

“I’m alright. I promise.”

“Ah, there’s the heroic knight, back from his adventure,” Sebastian grins as he joins them. “Well, have you come back with anything?”

She releases him and steps back while Ominis reaches into his jacket pocket. Producing the journal, she gasps.

“It’s… glowing,” she whispers.

“It is?” Sebastian questions.

“It’s protected by Ancient Magic. It’s how I found it in the first place,” Ominis states as he hands the journal to her.

“Wait, you found it because of the Ancient Magic?” Sebastian wonders. “Does that mean you can ‘see’ it like she can?”

“I believe I may be able to sense Ancient Magic, yes.”

The journal clicks open and she looks up to Ominis with wide eyes, “Amazing. I… I’m happy you were able to find something.”

Ominis gives her a warm smile, but his tired eyes only make her frown. She grabs his hand, motioning for Sebastian to take the suitcase.

“Here, come inside. Are you hungry? I can make you something. Then you should rest,” she says while tugging him inside.

“I wouldn’t mind some toast and tea. Then a nap wouldn’t hurt.”

Ominis sits at the kitchen table, enjoying the warmth of the sun as it filters through the window. He hears her as she bustles about the quaint kitchen, bringing him toast, eggs, and fruit along with his tea. He laughs to himself, but he can’t say he doesn’t mind the attention. Once he’s eaten he heads to her room upstairs, barely able to change himself out of his clothes into something more comfortable before collapsing.

His eyes are heavy, and the soft knock at the door startles him.

“Come in,” he says.

She steps into the room, walking towards him as the door shuts softly behind her, “Is there anything I can get you?”

He chuckles, “No, my dear, I’m quite alright,” he turns towards her then holds out his hand, “But, I wouldn’t mind if you laid with me. At least, until I fall asleep.”

She doesn’t hesitate to take his hand and she crawls into bed to lay next to him. Her lips are on his in another second, and he hums in both surprise and approval. His fingers are quick to tangle in her hair and he smiles into her eager kisses. When they part, it’s a soft sigh. He traces over her cheek with a warm smile.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

“And I missed you. Terribly,” she whispers just as quietly back. Her fingers brush his hair from his temple and he closes his eyes at the gentle touch. “I love you.”

A thrill shoots up his spine and his brows pinch. He opens his eyes to direct them towards her.

“Can you… say that again?”

She lets out a gentle laugh, kissing his cheek, “I love you, Ominis.”

A whimper escapes his lips and he presses his forehead to hers, brushing their noses together.

“I could go on about all the things I love about you, Ominis,” she strokes his cheek with a smile, “Shall I tell you?”

What his words could not say, his pleading eyes did.

“I love your smile,” she says while kissing the corner of his lips, “I love your gentle touch,” she kisses his palm, “I love your laugh, and sweet voice,” she kisses his neck, making him gasp, “I love your heart - your kindness and compassion.”

She drifts back up to his face, which is now flushed in a beautiful pink hue.

“I love your intelligence. Your quick and clever mind,” she kisses his forehead then she lingers just above his lips. “But, most of all, I love how you see me. You love me, for me. You accept me as I am, and encourage me to become better. You see all my flaws, and you still choose to love me. With you, I feel seen.”

He kisses her, his passion coming fully forward. Little whimpers and gasps escape him at her matching his intensity. As their tongues tangle and their breaths grow heavy, he hopes this will be enough to convey how much she means to him.

They slowly part once more with soft smiles and heated faces. He tucks her hair behind her ear, finding the warmth of her closeness slowly lulling him to sleep.

She lets out a content sigh, “Get some rest, handsome.”

Feeling her warmth next to him, it’s easy for him to fall asleep.

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

They wake up from their nap still tangled in each other’s embrace. The afternoon sun begins to shine into the room, and Ominis tells her of how he found Isidora’s journal.

“As it turns out, my ancestor was indeed friends with Isidora. She thought it odd that someone would arrive at Hogwarts during their Fifth year. Remind you of someone?” Ominis grins.

She laughs, “It seems some things never change,” her brows pinch as she hums in thought. “I suppose even us… to a certain extent. Perhaps meeting each other may not have been an accident at all.”

Her fingers play with his hair in deep thought and she finally whispers,

“Do you believe us to be soul mates? That we were destined to be together?”

Ominis frowns for a moment then shakes his head.

“No. I don’t.”

Her eyes widen, but he continues before she can say anything.

“To be bound by fate, means that we were always destined to be together. That we didn’t get a choice in whether or not to love each other,” he states with a growing smile. “But, I choose to be with you. Me. Not fate, nor destiny. It’s because I choose to love you, and you me. And, I would choose you every time.”

Tears well in her eye for a moment before she giggles, “I’m glad to be chosen by you then. For I choose you too.”

He kisses her and smiles against her lips, “And I’m grateful to be considered yours.”

Ominis sighs, the last of his worries melting away in her warmth. He’s thankful to be here - with her.

His home.

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

AN: Well... this took forever. But I really wanted to capture the tensions and the 'walking on eggshells' feeling of Ominis trying to navigate around his mother. Idk, i tried lol. Also the bonus is just lil thoughts i had after the fact but I didn't want to expand on them any further than what I had so figured why not just add it to this one LOL

But, yeah I think that wraps up my 5th year stuff. I'll probs post some oneshots/6th year stuff as im writing the BIG 7th year project.

Also, I'm almost at 400 followers which is wild to think about. Was thinking about maybe doing something for it -> but idk what. any ideas would be appreciated <3

Thanks again for reading and feedback is always welcomed <3

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