#like 'hurt anne needs help'
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so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
#writeblr#the book....#coming soon#hey so if ur someone who has ever said “you need to write a book”#i wrote the book#it's ... probably the best thing ive ever written#this is maybe too honest lol#okay to reblog thank you for asking i love u i am in love with u our wedding will be in may
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"Robs I've got to stop staring. Make me look away."
"Errr...no. I'm staring too."
"But why?"
"Trying to work out what the fascination is. He looks like the love child of Ozzy Osbourne and an Ann Rice vampire."
Steve sips his drink, "he's not even that good looking," he says, distressed, "I just can't look away...there's just...something."
"Is it how pathetic he is?"
"He does walk like a baby deer on ice." And it's true, the guy is so uncoordinated. He clearly doesn't know how long his arms are, and keeps nearly taking people out by accident. There's just something... fascinating about it. "Oh my god Rob, make me look away, I'm being a creeper. This is so inappropriate, he must be about twelve years old."
"Steve. He's holding a beer, so even if he is just 21, that actually means there's only ten years between you."
"Only," Steve snorts with derision, "only she says. Who is he anyway."
"Wayne Munson's plus one."
"Wayne Munson the engineer guy?"
"Yeah."
"Didn't know he swung that way-"
Robin hits him with her purse, "it's his nephew you fucking dingus. Didn't you pay any attention?"
"No. Not really, you know I hate this shit."
"You can get through one company BBQ Steve, you won't die. Maybe you'll get introduced to him."
Steve makes a noise. A noise he really shouldn't make and definitely not in public. Because he wants to do mean, awful, terrible things to that boy. He wants to make him come until it hurts. Until he's sore and red and begging and trying to cry but he can't because there's nothing left because Steve has removed every drop of moisture from the boys body via his dick and he has got to stop staring.
"Robin, walk me to the bar. Walk me to the bathroom. Walk me to my car. Walk me to the ornamental fucking fountain so I can ornamentally fucking drown myself but please I am begging you. I have got to stop staring."
"Okay," Robin grabs him by his arm and turns them fully in a circle, and then starts marching him across the lawn towards the Munson's.
"Robin. Please. No."
"Shut up you big baby. Besides, he needs help, there might be things living in his hair."
"I can definitely fix him."
"That's the spirit."
Part Two
Read what happened next on AO3
#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie#pre getting together#pre steddie#robin buckly#steve and robin#ficlet
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home before dark (part three)
pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader
rating mature 18+
summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.
content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent
» masterlist
· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·
Rafe is sitting in a chair in the front room of your home, his chin resting on his hand, hardly paying any attention to the sitcom playing on the tv screen.
He’s pissed off. Why did it have to storm tonight of all nights, when he doesn’t have anything to numb the pain, nothing to drown out the sound of the rain drumming on the windows?
In his haste, he didn’t pack any coke before coming here. He didn’t think he’d need it this bad.
And that photo he saw upstairs. It’s making everything so much fucking worse.
This is how the world repays him for helping someone. Figures. He’s used to having shit luck. Trying to make his own father love him has been a losing game, and he’s been at that for years, so why would anything else go his way?
“Hey.” Rafe straightens when he hears you. You look into the room. “Did the thunder wake you up, too?”
He hasn’t slept at all. But he nods.
There’s a blankness in his stare, the tv casting dull colors over his face. He didn’t bother to turn the light on.
You cross the room, hazy from your interrupted sleep, and settle on the couch. You’re far away from him, acting like you’ve never touched, even though you were just pressed against each other on his motorcycle.
You wonder if it felt nice to him, too. Or if you were just extra weight on his bike, an irritating responsibility he was cornered into taking on.
“Do you have any booze around here?” Rafe mutters. You catch the desolation in his tone.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
You instantly feel ridiculous for expecting you won’t be met with the cold shoulder. You doubt he’ll answer. But then, because the world must be off its axis, he does.
“Fucking hate this weather,” he says.
His words make a chill sink into your bones. You remember your father telling you the news years ago after he got the phone call. A torrential downpour. The freeway. Zero visibility.
Anne lost control of her car.
By the look on your dad’s face, you knew what that meant. Rafe’s mother didn’t survive the wreck.
He doesn’t have to say it. You know that’s why he hates storms.
“I can distract you,” you offer, “if you want?”
It was something you did as kids. Rafe would be angry or sad or hurt or anything and you’d talk his ear off about whatever you could think of until the dark cloud hanging over him drifted away.
His feelings always felt too big for him. You were the best at making them small enough to manage.
Rafe is used to wanting to be left alone. But not right now. Not if he can be with you. Admitting it feels impossible. The wall he spent years building around himself is solid from both sides.
“It’s your house,” he finally says. “Do what you want.”
You take it an invitation to stay. You turn your attention to the tv, as if holding eye contact with him will make him take it back.
It gives him a chance to look at you. How the fuck have you not lost patience with him yet? Why do you still care?
“I keep wanting to ask why you’re helping me,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the tv.
Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing his forehead.
“This is you distracting me,” he scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to do the talking?”
The fact that he’s expecting you to replicate the days of your youth gives you a sliver of hope that maybe he misses them, too.
“There has to be a reason you’re doing it,” you murmur.
“Can’t you just be happy that I am?” he responds. A white flash of lighting pools into the room for a split second.
“No,” you say. Finally, he gives in.
“Because I…” he begins.
The noise from the show is adding to the frustrating confusion engulfing him. He angrily picks up the remote and turns the tv off, plunging both of you in darkness.
You turn your head towards him again, only able to make out the hard outline of his jaw.
“I always had to look out for you,” he says. “I guess I still do.”
You look down at your lap, taken aback that Rafe holds any sense of loyalty for you.
You almost want to remind him of what he said earlier, that you’re not kids anymore, but you don’t want to challenge him.
“And I don’t know why,” he adds, voice thin, “but you’re not a dick to me like everyone else is, so I kind of owe you.”
All you can hear is your own breathing and the ticking of the clock in the foyer and the tap of faltering raindrops. The storm is passing.
“It’s because you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say into the silence. “It’s not like you did something to make me hate you. You shut me out, but I get why.”
Your words reverberate through him. He wonders if you think that he hates you.
Still, you could have gone to any other guy and asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend.
“Why’d you come to me?” he asks.
“Because he’s scared of you.” You don’t have to nor do you want to say your ex’s name.
“And you’re not?”
“No.” You tilt your head. “We used to be best friends.”
You say it like he wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t erase it from his brain if he tried. And he has.
The heaviness of all this is suffocating to him. The past is done. There’s no point in digging up things that’ll just hurt him all over again.
He stands up, chasing out the familiarity that was slowly growing between you. But before he leaves the room, he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose with trembling fingers.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, either, alright?” Rafe says into the dark, irritated, answering the question you asked him on the shoreline hours ago. “Not on purpose.”
As his shadow retreats, the words he left you with ring in your head. He doesn’t blame you. But you did do something wrong.
Rafe had his head buried into his pillow, throat burning from crying through his grief, every night for months.
As he lies in an unfamiliar bed all for a girl whose very existence makes him feel a multitude of good and bad all at once, he’s thrown back into those days, as if he’s a boy again.
His mother used to tell him it was a strength to be so sensitive, but her voice faded and his father’s voice got so much louder. What he tells him every time Rafe can’t swallow down the tears echoes in his mind. Toughen up. You’re fine.
But he’s not fine. He can’t stop crying and he knows he has to tell you he can’t do this anymore. Being with you brings back too much.
But the next morning, when Rafe finds you sitting at the kitchen island, wearing your pajamas and a smile, the prospect of ending this is tossed away.
You have access to him that nobody else does. You and that damn smile are a weakness that he didn’t know he had. And while he can act happy and careless around everyone else, he can’t put on an act for you. Ever.
“How’d you sleep?” you ask. Your hands are cupping a mug, your phone sitting beside it.
“Like shit,” Rafe replies, pacing to the fridge. “Took hours to fall asleep.”
You feel guilty that he didn’t have a good rest, considering he’s only here because you were too frightened to be alone.
“You?” he says after a beat. The ice must be melting if he’s actually asking about you for once.
“My sleep was good,” you reply. “It helped having you here.”
Rafe’s cheeks get warm. Someone actually wanting him around is a foreign feeling.
By the time your conversation was over last night, the rain and thunder had dwindled. It couldn’t have been the storm keeping him awake. Curiosity pushes you to figure it out.
“Was the bed uncomfortable?” you ask.
“No,” he answers. He finds a glass and fills it with water. His throat still hurts from crying last night.
You watch him, his presence commanding as he leans back against the counter opposite you. The dark, shallow bags beneath his eyes are illuminated in the bright lights above you. He looks exhausted.
“Was the room too warm? Or too cold?” you say.
“Can you relax?” Rafe huffs, his tone almost playful.
He isn’t about to admit that he can’t remember the last time he fell asleep sober. And he’s definitely not going to tell you that the last thing he thought about before finally passing out was that his cheeks burned from how hard he was wiping his tears away.
“The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable since I made you stay the night,” you say.
His brows furrow as he takes a long gulp, tipping his head back.
“Nobody can make me do anything,” he replies once he downs the water. You know it’s the truth. It makes the fact that he’s doing this for you all the more meaningful.
Before you can respond, your phone buzzes loudly on the countertop. Rafe sees your face fall when your eyes drop to the screen. You read the notification for a moment, then sigh and shake your head.
“He emailed me,” you say incredulously. “I blocked him on everything and he emailed me.”
Rafe leans over to see if you’ll let him look for himself. You slide your phone towards him and he picks it up to read Ty’s message.
What you have with him isn’t real. We both know it. Let me prove that I can treat you how you deserve. Please. I’m sorry for everything. I love you.
A part of Rafe is concerned you’ll fall for it.
“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.
“Block him there, too,” you mutter. “He does this. He’s mean, then he pretends like he changed, then he’s mean again… It’s the same bullshit over and over.”
Rafe blocks him for you and places your phone on the counter. You bite the inside of your cheek as the dread you always feel when Ty contacts you floods your every sense.
The despair on your face makes Rafe’s stomach sink. The next time he sees Ty, he’s beating the shit out of him.
“He’ll stop, okay? I’ll make him,” he says.
You’re still skeptical. Rafe definitely scares him, but Ty called him a bullshit rebound last night. He wrote that what you have with Rafe isn’t real. You’re not fooling him. And you’re afraid he won’t leave you alone until he believes you’re actually in a new relationship now.
“Yeah.” You exhale slowly. “Doesn’t sound like he’s falling for this, though.” You motion between you and him.
Rafe has to take a moment to catch your meaning. Falling for this. Your pretend relationship. Right.
“I didn’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say, afraid it somehow got out. “Did you?”
Rafe shakes his head no and puts his empty glass in the sink. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you again.
“Do you want me to keep crashing here until your mom and dad get back?” he asks.
You hate that your mind goes there, but you wonder when the last time he said mom out loud was. You shake away the thought.
“Not if you can’t get any actual sleep,” you respond.
Rafe typically gets irritated when someone can’t make up their mind. He wants everything done quickly, so he doesn’t have to stop and think.
But this is you and even though you’re scared of sleeping on your own, you’re considering how staying here affects Rafe and it gives him a heavy feeling of shame. He spent years avoiding the only person who never abandoned him. The only person who still gives a shit.
“I’ll just leave my stuff here,” he says, making the decision for you.
“Thank you.” You mean it. The thought of someone being here with you is comforting.
As usual, Rafe ends the conversation quickly and abruptly, leaving the room. You soon hear the engine of his motorcycle rattling loudly from outside, the roar fading as he drives away.
You hoped that he’d at least want to hang out with you now. You don’t understand why you keep expecting more from him. It just hurts you every time.
You don’t hear from Ty for the rest of the day. You manage to run some errands without worrying you’ll see him because even when Rafe isn’t with you, you don’t feel as scared knowing he’s in your corner.
The days of the week mean practically nothing on the north side of the island over the summer. There’s a party almost every night, this time at a house just down the street from you.
You invite your friends to your place, drinking as you get ready, deciding to walk over to the party. You turn up already tipsy, finding yourself looking for Rafe even though you know you should only really be doing that if Ty is bothering you.
When you walk into the loud, crowded house, seeing you reminds Rafe of why he isn’t smoking or drinking or snorting anything tonight.
He’s had countless fights while wasted, but he wants to have a clear mind when he sees Ty. He needs to make the fucker pay and not give him a chance to get even one punch in.
You meet Rafe’s blue eyes every so often throughout the night, glad you’re finally able to have fun again because you know he’s keeping you safe.
The second Ty walks in, even though he hasn’t come close to approaching you, you make your way to Rafe.
You stand close to him, placing your hand in his, acting like a girlfriend to someone who is only doing this because he feels an overdue sense of loyalty to you.
Rafe stills for a moment before he laces his fingers with yours. His skin is hot, making your heart flutter in a way you know it shouldn’t.
“Hey,” you say over the music. His ring presses against your thumb.
“Hey,” he says tensely. He’s not used to affection, especially in front of people.
But this is what he signed up for. He needs to act like a boyfriend and he’s not going to fuck this up. It’s the first real responsibility he’s had that he actually gives a shit about.
His eyes land on Ty and his plan to confront him takes a backseat when he realizes he doesn’t want to let go of you. Right now, he’d rather have his hand in yours instead of using it to throw a punch. It’s like every touch you give him leaves a heavier impact than the last.
You immediately notice how tense Rafe is.
“Can you relax?” you joke, imitating the way he said it this morning. Your heart warms when his dimples appear, framing a smile he can’t stifle.
“I don’t sound like that,” he says.
“You sound exactly like that,” you reply with a laugh, picturing how tired he looked in your kitchen. “Please tell me you got some sleep today.”
Again, the concern you seem to have never lost for him appears.
“I did,” he says. He crashed in his bed the second he got home.
“How come it took you so long to fall asleep last night?”
Rafe’s knee-jerk reaction is to avoid the question. Especially if it’s you asking. But he can’t forget how shitty it felt when you brushed him off last night at the beach, so he pushes himself to answer.
“Just, uh…” He looks away. “Couldn’t turn off my brain.”
You gaze up at him. It almost aches, how badly you’d love to know what goes through his mind.
“When did this start?” one of his friends amusedly asks, pointing between you two. You notice Ty close by, his gaze sharp as he eavesdrops. Rafe notices him, too.
You squeeze Rafe’s hand tighter, clinging to him. He notices that his entire body buzzes when you do that.
“What, was I supposed to call you?” Rafe responds.
“I’m just saying,” his friend replies with a laugh, “it’s like all of a sudden, you got a girl out of nowhere.”
Alarm stings every inch of your skin when you notice Ty’s posture straighten in your peripheral.
“Don’t sound so surprised, asshole,” Rafe replies lightheartedly, gently pulling his hand out of your grasp to drape his heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him.
You follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his torso. The relief from how well he played it off and the comfort you get from how he’s holding you is overwhelming.
Rafe dips his head to speak into your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, his cologne fresh.
“Think he’s falling for it now?” he mumbles, voice lowering an octave. With the way he’s holding you, you might fall for it yourself.
“Yeah,” you breathe. You squeeze him tighter, not for show, but because you want to. You’ve wanted to hug him since the funeral, when he was a boy with bloodshot eyes in a crumpled black suit, but he never let you get this close.
He brings his other hand up to your face, cradling your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. His touch is so tender that you have to remind yourself it’s Rafe doing this.
You’re suspended, bodies curved together, cheeks brushing, like you’re playing a game to see who’ll let go first.
“And he’s staying away from you, right?” His breath is warm against the shell of your ear.
You nod, at a loss for words.
“Is he watching?” he asks. You can see from the corner of your eye that your ex is staring right at you.
“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.
At this point, Rafe is being selfish. This is close enough. You wanted him to act like you’re a couple and he’s done it. He can pull away now. Maybe he should keep his arm around you for a little longer, but he doesn’t need to be this close.
Instead, he lowers to press his lips against your cheek and you hug him tighter, and fuck, it feels so good that he misses it before it’s even over.
He can’t believe that his body yearns to be this close to you. You opened up the floodgates the second you put your hand on him the first time a couple of nights ago. How good would it feel if you were doing it for real?
You lean into his kiss. His lips are so soft. You wish you could feel them against yours. It’s all to make everyone think you’re actually together. You keep telling yourself that.
When your arms around him weaken just a little, you feel something at his back, protruding against your forearm.
Your eyebrows draw together as you pull back only a few inches to meet Rafe’s eyes, your mind going to the worst possible scenario. Your breath catches. It’s a weapon.
“What is that?” you ask quietly, nudging against the hard item tucked into the band of his jeans.
“What do you think?”
“Rafe,” you say. His jaw tightens. The moment is gone. The wall is back up. Your tone teeters on a thin edge, like you’re judging him.
“You’re surprised the psycho owns a gun?” he scoffs.
He didn’t brush off what Ty said like you thought he did. It makes your stomach turn that your ex’s lie actually stuck with Rafe.
You glance over to see Ty’s back as he storms out of the room. Part of you is relieved, but right now, you mostly feel anxious that Rafe believes a lie.
“I never called you that,” you reiterate to him quietly. “I’ve never said anything bad about you. You think you can trust what he says?”
“I’m not planning on using it on him, okay?” Rafe snaps. “Unless he asks for it.”
He wishes you didn’t notice it. If you didn’t think he was fucked up before, you do now. He’s pissed off and embarrassed and disappointed all at once.
You’ve been trying to reconnect with him for so long. If he gives in, you’ll see that he’s not even close to who he was when you knew him. He’ll just let you down.
He realizes he hasn’t kept his distance only because you’re a painful reminder of a time he wants to forget. It’s also because he’s sure you wouldn’t like who he’s become. And he can’t take the rejection.
You’re still, unable to believe that he actually has a gun. That he would use it. That these are the lengths he’s going to to keep you safe.
You haven’t lost contact with him, but Rafe checks out of the moment and pulls his arm away.
“He’s gone now,” he mutters. You get the message. He’s done pretending. You drop your arms and find your friends again.
Hours later, the party is dwindling, but far from over. Rafe has been sober the entire time, making him all the more antsy and irritable.
He thought he’d beat the shit out of Ty tonight, but he’s exhausted and he can’t stop shaking. Why the hell is he shaking?
Rafe loses his patience and approaches you while you’re dancing with your friends.
“Let’s go,” he says, holding your hand. The contact makes your head spin all over again. Even though you’d like to stay, you comply.
You notice Ty’s eyes on you when you leave. He’s pretending to be a good guy again, keeping his distance, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he cracks.
Once you reach Rafe’s motorcycle in the cool night air, he hands you his helmet and you take it without hesitation.
After the short drive, you walk up the steps to your front door together. But you soon stop in your tracks, eyes wide as you stare at the ground.
Rafe follows your eye line. Mud’s been tracked onto the porch in fragmented footprints.
“I can’t… I can’t remember if that was there before,” you stammer. “Did you see it this morning?”
“I don’t know,” he responds. He rushed out of here too quickly to have noticed something like that.
You look around, as if you can find an answer in the darkness surrounding your home. You would have noticed it after you ran your errands earlier today. Probably. Maybe.
It could have been you. Or Rafe. Or one of your friends.
Or Ty. He didn’t arrive at the party until late into the night. Could he have been creeping around your house? Why would he?
Rafe glances up to confirm that there aren’t any cameras aiming at the door. It pisses him off when he notices there aren’t any cameras at all. He quickly catches on that your breathing has grown faster.
“Come on,” he says, gently pulling you by the crook of your elbow. “Let’s go inside. It’s nothing.”
He doesn’t believe his own words, but there’s no reason to scare you any further.
“What if he was here?” you say, letting Rafe pull you to the door. He takes the key out of your hand and pushes it into the lock.
“Then I’ll shoot him,” he mutters.
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
The door swings open, prompting the security system to start beeping.
You flip on the light and enter the code as he shuts the door behind you. You’re so frightened and unnerved that you jam one of the buttons with the wrong finger, prompting a harsh error noise from the system.
“Can you do this?” you huff. You tell Rafe the five-digit code and he quickly enters it, arming the system again. You notice his hand is trembling.
“Are you okay?” you ask. You know it’s not from fear. Rafe isn’t afraid of anything. He must be high on something. “What’d you take?”
“Nothing,” he says with a humorless laugh. It dawns on him that his body is reacting to the lack of coke in his system. “That’s the problem.”
“What?” you ask.
Rafe sighs, double-checking that the front door is locked for your peace of mind.
“I can’t be wasted if that asshole tries me. I haven’t taken anything since last night,” he says. “But it just made shit worse.”
He realizes how messed up it sounds. How messed up it is that being sober for one night makes him shake like this. He has a problem. But he never really had a reason to get clean before now.
You watch Rafe checking the lock and like a riptide, everything crashes down on you at once.
The torment from Ty harassing you. The guilt from asking Rafe to take on this responsibility. The sadness from knowing that he’s only doing it because he feels a sense of obligation for you and wants nothing more.
“Bet you’re glad I have a gun now,” Rafe mutters. He turns to look at you, your expression grim. “What?”
“I don’t want to keep bothering you with this,” you admit, your heart racing with panic. “I don’t want you to have to sleep here and I don’t want you to have to drive me home all the time and… I hate that this is happening and that I had to drag you into it.”
His eyes travel over the anguish etched on your face.
“What, like it’s your fault he’s a piece of shit?” he says.
You chew on the inside of your cheek and look up to the ceiling, trying to keep your tears at bay. It’s still odd being alone with him, having him in your home.
Rafe hasn’t tried to make someone feel better in a long time. He hasn’t cared enough to. He takes a deep breath.
“I don’t mind doing this, alright?” he says.
“You don’t?” You take in the softness in his eyes that you don’t often see.
“Think I’d be here if I did?”
“I don’t know,” you say. “You used to do things you didn’t want to all the time for me.”
The Rafe that was your best friend always went along with whatever you wanted to play, wherever you wanted to go.
He grits his teeth, tearing his eyes off of you, trying not to think about how when he was a kid, if someone asked him who his favorite person was, he’d tell them that it was a tie between you and his mom.
“Don’t talk about how shit used to be,” he says quietly. And because he doesn’t want to see that hurt look on your face again, he adds, “Please.”
The mere prospect of talking about the past seems to actually give him pain. It dawns on you that you’re looking at a man who may have never processed what happened to him.
“Do you want something to eat?” you offer, changing the subject swiftly.
Rafe realizes he’s starving.
“Yeah,” he says.
A memory washes over you as Rafe sits at your kitchen counter, eating leftovers you heated up for him.
It was a humid summer day and you two were scarfing down the lunch his mother made for you after a morning of swimming behind his house.
Rafe always liked picking the wildflowers that grew in the grass that lined the beach for his mom. The ones he found that day were purple, sitting in a small vase she put in the center of the dining room table.
Every time he gave her a small bundle of uneven flowers, she had the same joyful reaction. Rafe always looked so proud of himself when she enthusiastically thanked her son.
It was just another happy day.
Until Ward came into the kitchen and like always, Rafe’s smile disappeared. Your best friend tended to shrink when his dad was around. Ward almost always found something to chide his son about. He never spoke like that to his daughters.
“Could you eat any faster?” Ward muttered. “Where are your manners?”
“Leave him alone, Ward,” Anne said with a sigh. His mother’s tone was only ever sharp when she was defending her little boy.
You remember watching her lean to kiss Rafe’s head, earning a small smile from him. Then she winked at you, trying to dismiss the tension from the room.
You wonder what Ward has said to Rafe ever since he lost the only person who stuck up for him.
You face the sink as you wash your hands, your back to Rafe, trying to stifle the tears that build as you imagine what the world would be like if the wreck never happened. Who would Rafe be if he never lost her? If a part of him didn’t die with her?
Is it crazy to think that you’d still be best friends, instead of two strangers pushed together in such an arduous situation? You miss her so much that it hurts and all this is yet another thing adding to the weight sitting on your shoulders.
Rafe hears you sniffle and when you finally turn around, you stare at the floor as you try to rush away.
“What is it?” he asks. Is he already failing at making you feel safe?
You freeze. You can’t tell him what’s really bothering you. Especially since he asked you not to talk about your memories.
“I’m just freaked out.” It’s not exactly what you’re thinking of now, but it’s true. This mess with Ty is a nightmare. “If he was really creeping around here… Ugh, I don’t know what he’s going to do next.”
Rafe chews slower as he observes you through narrow eyes. He’s no stranger to the pain of crying to sleep. He doesn’t want that for you.
You notice his hands are still trembling. You have no idea how often he does coke, but it must be an addiction if one night without it makes his body react like this.
“What else do you need?” he asks. It comes out sharper than he intended, like he’s asking what else you could possibly want from him after he’s given you so much.
Your lips thin as you stare at him from across the counter. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so miserable.
“Nothing,” you mutter. “Good night.”
You start to walk away but Rafe says your name to stop you and it sounds so good coming out of his mouth that your stomach numbs. When was the last time he said it?
You turn to look at him. His eyes dart down to his food.
“What if…” he begins, his fork loudly clattering against the dish. “Would it help if I slept in your room?”
You’re surprised. And soothed by the thought of him sleeping close by in case your ex does something as unhinged as break in.
Everyone else paints Rafe as rude and aggressive, but you knew it. You knew he still had some kindness in him.
“Yeah,” you say. “It would help.”
(part four)
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#this part got soooo long because i just couldnt find a place to pause lols#its not a fic by me if rafe doesnt cry <3#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic
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@janeyseymour I KEEP MY PROMISES
Emergency Contact
Okay so, I was inspired by the episode where Mel falls, and honestly I just know if she had a wife, Barbara would’ve called her SO FAST. So this was born.
Enjoy.
You grin as you stare at your phone, caller id clearly reading ‘Abbott Elementary.’
“Mel, if you forgot to charge your phone again, we need to just get an extra charger to leave at the school.” You tease as you shut the door behind you.
“Hi, is this y/n?” Your smile drops at the unfamiliar voice and you stop in your tracks
“This is she.” Your words are tentative, voice shaky as you continue “can I help you?”
“Hi this is Janine Teagues from Abbott Elementary, I have it down here that you’re Melissa Schemmenti’s emergency contact?”
“Yes, that’s right.” You shake your head as you continue walking to your car.
“Well, I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s been an accident, can you come to the school?”
Your heart stops as you take in her words.
Melissa’s been in an accident? What happened, and why is your wife not calling you herself?
“I’ll be there in 15.” You spit the words out and hang up the phone, not willing to waste any more time on pleasantries when Melissa’s hurt.
You make the drive in silence, eyes focusing on the road, as you try to calm your racing heart.
Your tires squeal as you turn into the Abbott Elementary parking lot, haphazardly parking before running into the school.
“Whoa- where ya going?” A tall woman stops you as she steps out of the office off to the side of the area that bypasses the locked doors.
“Uh hi. I got a call from Janine Teagues stating that uh Melissa Schemmenti was in an accident?” The words are rushed, coming out at the same speed at which the thoughts are racing through your head.
“Janine called you? Damn, you must be the emergency contact.”
“Yes.”
“Alright then, I’m principal Coleman, I believe Melissa’s in the nurses office, you ever been here before?”
“I’ve helped Mel set up her room a few times, nurse’s office is right before the library isn’t it?”
“You got that right. Need an escort?” She says with a wink as she hands you a visitors pass.
“Nope I got it.” The words are barely out of your mouth before you take off in a sprint down the hallway.
You fly past the library, and rush into the little area that acts as a makeshift waiting room for the nurses office.
“Did you have to sprint in heels?”
At the sound of your wife’s voice, you stop.
“You’re okay?” Your voice is tentative, and you can’t help but hold your breath.
“Ankle hurts like a bitch, but I’m okay. Jesus, hon you look like you’ve seen a ghost, you good?”
“Am I good? Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti… Why on earth did your coworker call me and say nothing except for needing your emergency contact.”
“Janine called you?” Your wife’s voice is sharp and you shoot her a glare.
“Yes she did. But why didn’t you?” You sit next to her on the small cot and rub your face. “Jesus Mel, that was like the call I got when Dad died. It scared the fuck out of me.”
“Watch your mouth babe, you’re still in an elementary school.”
“Melissa.” The way you say her name lets her know that she’s got to explain quickly or she’s in trouble.
“Okay- I may have fallen this morning. It was nothing really, just bruised my ankle and aggravated my back, but I promise I’m fine.”
“What were you doing when you fell?”
“Walking. I tripped over some rock on the sidewalk, but it’s okay I didn’t even spill my coffee.”
“Mel… you’re injured and the only thing you care about is your coffee?”
“Hey! My wife made me that coffee.” She teases before nudging your shoulder with hers.
“WIFE?!”
The shout that could’ve only come from Janine makes you both jump.
“Jesus kid, what the hell?”
“You have a wife?”
Janine’s shout must’ve carried down the hall as three more people come rushing in behind her.
Melissa presses her fingers to her temple and sighs as she looks at you.
“Yes. I have a wife. Did you have to announce it like you were Jim Gardner!?”
“You never told us you had a wife?!? You told us you were married, but to a woman?!”
“You thought I had a husband?”
You laugh at the confusion in your wife’s voice.
Janine nods enthusiastically, hands flying with the speed of her voice.
“Well, yeah. You never said wife, just always said ‘spouse’ or ‘better half’- I just assumed they were a man-“
“Kid- I tried men, it didn’t stick.” Melissa interrupts while shaking her head “anyway-, I never hid anything. You didn’t ask.”
“Wait- are you saying, you’re like… a lesbian?”
“Jesus Christ Jacob, what tipped you off? Was it the wife?” Melissa replies dryly.
Before he can respond, Barbara, your wife’s best friend steps in the room.
“Melissa’s personal life is her own, she’s under no obligation to share. However, how are you y/n?” She says to you with a smile.
You smile warmly at Barbara, thankful to see at least one face you recognized.
“I’m alright now that I know this one’s alright. It’s good to see you again, Barb.”
“Wait?!? You knew?!” Janine exclaims.
“Of course I knew, I was at the wedding.”
Silence fills the small room, the weight of Barbara’s confession settling over the group. Janine stares in open mouthed as she processes this new revelation.
“You were at the wedding?” She finally sputters out, voice tinged with disbelief.
Barbara raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“Janine, I choose not to gossip about coworkers, but yes I was at Melissa’s wedding. Her wife is a lovely woman and I have been honored to call them both my friends for the many years we have known each other.”
Melissa snorts from her spot on the cot, shaking her head.
“Lovely, huh? You haven’t heard her curse at the tv during an Eagles game.”
“Baby, that was a shitty call and you know it!”
You cross your arms, but smile softly, your anger and adrenaline melting away at the sight of Melissa’s smirk.
Jacob clears his throat, looking between the two of you.
“Well, I for one, think this is wonderful. These kids deserve representation, and it’s important for them to know that love comes in all forms. This is the stuff we should teach in classrooms.”
Melissa shoots an award winning glare at the young man “Jacob, you make me a poster and you’ll meet Edith Houghton.”
“Got it! No poster.”
Barbara sighs before giving Jacob a pointed look.
“Perhaps we should let y/n get Melissa home before you turn lunch into a sociology seminar.”
“Right! Sorry, Janine we should go. Melissa, rest well, let that wife of yours get you to a doctor.” Jacob leaves the room, pulling Janine with him
As soon as they leave, Melissa lets her head fall onto your shoulder and you kiss the top of her head softly as she groans
“Everyone will know by dismissal.”
“I know how you are about your personal life, but it’s good they know. They’ll forget about it eventually.”
“Too bad eventually isn’t now.”
“Like you won’t love bringing her to game night. Seriously though, y/n, I am glad you could come. Melissa did not want to call you herself.”
“Is that so?”
You turn to look at your wife, who is staring at the ground to avoid your gaze.
“Okay- I didn’t want to worry you. It’s just a bruised ankle and a stiff back. A few days of rest and I’ll be back to normal.”
You tilt your head, glaring at your wife.
“You’ll go to a doctor first to verify that. Also, you didn’t want to worry me? Mel, a stranger called me. And Janine at that. Had you just called me yourself, I would’ve panicked less.”
Melissa softens as she takes your hand.
“I’m sorry, hon. I should’ve called you myself. I love you, and I just didn’t want you worried.”
“I love you too, but I knew what I signed up for when I married you. Or did you forget who drove you to court when you threw corn at Ben Simmons?
“Y/n, why don’t you get her home? I’ll get Ava to watch over her class for the rest of the day.” Barb says as she leaves the room.
“Thanks, see you at dinner on Sunday.” You shoot the teacher a grin as you help your wife stand up.
“So… a rock?”
“It was a big rock.” Melissa insists, cheeks pink.
“Sure it was.” You shake your head, grabbing your bags. “Let’s go, tough guy.”
#abbott elementary#lisa ann walter#down bad for a certain redhead#fan fiction#wlw#wlw fanfic#melissa schemmenti x reader
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the winner takes it all.
in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.
a/n: i truly am the queen of being late to the partyyyyyyyyyyyy (ive wanted to write for sebastian since hogwarts legacy came out but just finally got around to finally writing for him :) )
warnings: leander prewett bashing because i said so :), being drugged?
pairing: sebastian sallow x f!slytherin!reader
“I don’t need to have eyes to know you’re staring, Sebastian.”
Ominis’ rather bland comment pulls Sebastian from the spiraling thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, a blink of the eye as he shifts, turning to face his long time friend with a frown.
“I’m not staring,” Sebastian argues, voice sharper than he meant it to be. Guilt runs through him when he realizes he’s being unfairly cross with Ominis, a boy that despite all has had to deal with Sebastian’s rather cross moods as of late and in the grand scheme of things, has done so with very little complaint.
“Sorry,” Sebastian sighs after a moment of silence passes, shoulders sinking. “It’s just…”
Ominis sets his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder across the table, squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain, Sebastian. I understand,” he offers softly, voice warm with what is meant to be comfort. Sebastian, despite the hurt in his heart, does feel himself ease, even if only a little, at Ominis’ words. The boy has always been exceptionally good at understanding others and knowing what to say to help someone—something Sebastian often found he lacked in retrospect. But then again, given who Ominis was, it made complete sense for him to understand and see things other’s couldn’t (even if he lacked the actual sight to do so).
“I just worry you’ll do something rash,” Ominis adds tentatively, as if afraid of Sebastian’s reaction.
But Sebastian isn’t offended—honestly, he’s been rather scared of his own limits as of late. Especially when he was faced with that mocking grin and gaze that seemed to scream; I beat you.
It all started two days ago when, instead of meeting Sebastian in your shared common room as you normally did, you never showed up. The act was odd but Sebastian had brushed it off as a simple lack of communication, figuring you’d headed to the Great Hall ahead of him for whatever reason since Anne had assured him you weren’t in your room. Maybe you forgot to let him, he figures; the possibilities of why you’d left early were endless and it wasn’t like Sebastian wasn’t capable of walking the halls without you so he’d shrugged it off and joined Ominis and Anne instead.
It was really when he entered the Great Hall that everything went wrong.
Despite his brush off earlier, the second he was in the hall, his eyes had strained to search for you, missing the familiar and comfortable conversation he could find in you. He missed seeing your face first thing and making you laugh with one of his silly quips or light teasing, watching you stuff your face full of food because you couldn’t possibly just choose one thing and rather had to have it all and—
And all of that seemed to feel a lot worse when he finally found you and saw you sat at not only the wrong table but with Leander Prewett of all people. If that wasn’t bad enough, you were practically sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you cuddled into his side, giggling as the boy practically fed you.
Sebastian’s feet had moved on their own, despite Anne’s worried call after him and Ominis trying to grab him (because despite not being able to see what Sebastian had, he’d known the boy long enough to know something was terribly wrong). Neither of them had mattered in that moment as Sebastian blindly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the curious pairs of eyes that watched him, marching straight up to you and Leander. The latter lazily glanced up at him, looking entirely too smug and pleased about himself as your eyes slowly flickered over to him, blinking, before smiling; “Sebastian!”
The way you’d called his name sounded all wrong. Although you looked pleased, a bright grin on your face, your eyes weren’t sparkling with the mischief he’d come to expect from you and rather you looked dazed.
Lovesick. The word made Sebastian want to throw up.
“Can we help you, Sallow?” Leander grinned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.
Sebastian’s lips part, but he hesitates, bewildered. His eyes flicker from Leander, to you, to the grip he has on you, to the way you’re holding him. “What… what the bloody hell is this?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Leander asks, voice sickly sweet. “Y/N and I were just enjoying breakfast together, weren’t we, love?” And to add to it all, Leander presses a kiss to your cheek and what shocks Sebastian most of all is that you don’t push him away or slap him or anything—you… you respond to the kiss.
Now, it wasn’t like you hated Leander. You knew of Sebastian’s… distaste towards the boy, and that Anne and Ominis in one way or another felt the same, though just not as much. You didn’t care for the boy either, as you’ve told Sebastian plenty, but you’d told him plenty of times not to be too mean or cruel or at least, try to get along with him.
Sebastian feels like he’s going crazy—was this why? Did you want him to at least try and get along with Leander because all along you’d had a secret crush on him or something?
Had Sebastian misread everything?
The walks together every morning? The late nights spent together? The lingering touches? Longing looks? Flirts and teases and…—
“That’s right,” you grin at Leander, brushing at his bright, red hair and smiling.
“But…” Sebastian swears he sounds more pathetic than he ever has… he certainly feels it. Watching you stare at Leander with that lovesick expression, smiling and touching him and… had Sebastian just never seen it? Had he been that blind by his own emotions? “You weren’t in the common room this morning,” is what he eventually manages, though it’s rather pointless.
It was obvious where you were.
“Oh,” you call out, blinking, as if you’d just remembered—oddly, that hurts the most. That you’d… forgotten about him. “Sorry Sebastian, I had such an urge to see Leander this morning and… well, I’m glad I did. Because I was finally able to tell him of my feelings,” you smile at him, cupping his cheek. “And i’ve never been so happy to hear he returned them.”
Sebastian’s lips part, his gaze shifting to Leander who’s watching him carefully.
The glare is clear. The meaning is plain.
I win.
Thankfully Anne is flanking his side before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself, grabbing Sebastian firmly by the arm and offering you a small, albeit bewildered smile and a glare at Leander before leading Sebastian away.
It had been two days since then and you hadn’t left Leander’s side once.
The only time you were alone was in the classes you didn’t share with him, and despite the fact that Sebastian had luckily shared one of those classes with you, his hopes at finding out some sort of answer had been quickly squashed when you spent the entire class in a daze. You hadn’t paid attention to the professor at all and spent your time staring off in a blissful, oblivious smile, ever so often whispering Leander’s name under your breath.
Sebastian was heartbroken. And angry. And hurt. And everything in between.
“I want to,” Sebastian admits to Ominis as he pulls himself from the memory. But, then, he sighs. “I won’t though. If… Y/N is happy, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”
Ominis frowns. “You’re not going to fight it even a little?”
Sebastian turns to him, confused; “you just said you didn’t want me doing that.”
“I just don’t want you to do anything rash,” Ominis argues, shaking his head. “It all still feels so strange to me. I mean, had Y/N given any sort of inclination about her feelings for Leander? I certainly don’t remember her saying anything and neither does Anne.”
Sebastian pauses, “well, no… I guess not. But maybe it was because we’d been clear how we felt about him.”
“Still,” Ominis expresses, leaning forward. “It’s so sudden. She went to bed fine and then woke up that morning and she’s barely spoken two words to us since. We were once her best friends, no?”
Sebastian had been so caught up in his own hurt he hadn’t even begun to think about how Ominis and Anne must be feeling. They were your best friends just as much as they were his after all and it wasn’t just Sebastian you’d steered clear of… you’d been avoiding all three of them like they were the plague.
Sebastian sighs; “I think she’s just—”
“—She’s been poisoned!”
Both Ominis and Sebastian rear their heads back in surprise at both Anne’s words and her very sudden arrival, not to mention the loud bang that echoes as she slams the box in her hands onto the table with no care for those around. Some Slytherins nearby send her glares but she ignores them, her wide eyes strictly on both Sebastian and Ominis as she pants, out of breath.
“Anne,” Ominis calls, blinking. “What are you talking about? Who?”
“Y/N,” she all but breathes, turning to Sebastian who’s sat beside her. “Y/N’s been poisoned.”
Sebastian’s brows furrowed; “what the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“Look,” she calls, pushing the box in her hands forward. Sebastian eyes it as she takes the lid off, taking in the red and gold wrapping paper, before eyeing the wrapped piece of chocolate Anne pulls out of it.
Sebastian stares; “it’s chocolate.”
Anne huffs, exasperated. “It’s laced,” she explains, pushing it to Sebastian’s face. “Smell it.”
Completely baffled but unable to resist with the way Anne is shoving the chocolate in his face, Sebastian does as he’s told. Leaning forward, he takes a small whiff, almost immediately frowning in confusion when he does; “it smells like… Y/N.”
For a moment, Anne pauses; “well, that fits,” she laughs, before pulling the chocolate closer to her. “It smells different to me. It smells like—” but she hastily cuts herself off, growing red in the cheeks as her eyes flicker over to Ominis.
A moment passes.
“Okay…” Ominis finally sighs, probably the most confused. “But what does this have to do with Y/N being—” He halts, eyes widening. “Amortentia!”
Anne grins; “exactly.”
“What?” Sebastian cries.
“I found these chocolates on Y/N’s bed,” Anne explains, “with a note attached, signed by Leander.”
The cogs in Sebastian’s mind slowly click together.
“He… he drugged her!” he calls out in disbelief, feeling a new wave of rage flood through him. His eyes snap back to his right, where he’d been staring before, where you are, coddled up next to Leander as he smiles sickly down at you, touching you, kissing you. “I’m gonna kill him.”
Anne is quick to grab onto him, “no.” And at the bewildered look he sends her, she frowns. “We need to get her to Blainey. She’s the only one who can heal Y/N and then the school will deal with him.”
Sebastian wants to argue but despite the anger radiating through him, he knows his sister is right.
-
Your head hurts as you blink away, the bright light above your head causing you to moan in dejection, confused.
Where were you?
Pressing a hand to your face, you try to block the light, using your other hand to push yourself up, slowly, since your whole body hurts in a dull ache everywhere. It takes you a moment to realize you’re in the hospital wing, recognizing the startling white of the room, before a set of hands are falling on you, pulling your attention to your left.
You gasp, panicked, until you see a familiar pair of warm brown eyes staring back at you in concern.
“Sebastian…” You mumble, voice coarse.
He shakes his head at you; “don’t push yourself.” He urges gently, his hand on your back as the other reaches behind you, helping prop you up with your pillows. You let him, still confused, as you glance around the room.
“How… How did I get here?” You asked, not remembering how you ended up here or why… actually, everything feels like a dull blur. The last thing you clearly remember is coming to your dorm after a long day of classes, surprised to see a box of chocolates on your bed and they’d been from… Leander!
Your eyes snap to Sebastian; “Sebastian! I think… I think I may have been poisoned by—”
“Leander Prewett,” Sebastian cuts in, face darkening as he nods at you. “Yes, well, Y/N…”
“You were given the love potion, my dear,” Blainey calls out, stepping into your view with a sheet of paper in her hands, eyes slowly flickering to meet your own with a worried frown. “Amortentia,” she nods, lips pursed. “Thanks to this young man, I was able to give you the remedy rather quickly but it looks like you were drugged for at least a couple days. Your body aches because of the antidote, so I’d like to keep you for a few hours just to make sure everything is alright but overall, there should be no lasting effects.”
Stunned, you let her words register.
Letting your hands fall numbly to your lap, you stare at them.
“Y/N?” Sebastian calls out quietly, pulling your eyes on him as he glances at you in concern. “Are you…?” his words trail, not really sure how to gauge the look on your face.
“I’m alright,” you whisper, “just… embarrassed.”
Sebastian shakes his head; “it’s not your fault—”
The door slamming open catches both of your attention, and your eyes widen when Leander comes storming into the room. The concerned look on his face is quickly replaced with rage when he sees Sebastian at your side, and Leander wastes no time; “just what are you doing—”
But Leander never gets to finish what he’s saying because in the next second Sebastian’s fist is colliding with his cheek, hard, and knocking him off his feet and straight into the ground. Nurse Blainey lets out a cry in surprise as you jump, body tensing as your eyes flicker from Leander to Sebastian, but you’re not afraid. At least not of Sebastian. Rather, his actions fill you with an odd warmth.
“I normally wouldn’t send you straight to detention for that, Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley’s voice rings out as she makes her way inside the room, and your eyes widen when you see Ominis and Anne trailing closely behind her. “But given the circumstances, I guess I’ll let such violence pass this once. Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Sallow.”
Still breathing heavily, Sebastian takes a step back, his eyes easing when he turns to look at the professor. “You got it, Professor Weasley.”
“Now, Mr. Prewett,” Weasley’s voice calls out and the boy jumps as her steely eyes fall on him, scrambling to his feet as he looks around at everyone. “I believe you and I need to have a long chat.”
“B-But—” Leander sounds absolutely pathetic, his eyes falling on you as you simply glare at him, arms crossed over your chest, before falling on Sebastian who grins at him widely.
I win.
“Now, Mr. Prewett.”
Leander all but skulks out behind Weasley.
The second he’s gone, Anne rushes to your side, taking your hands in hers. “I was so worried when you started acting like a lovesick fool for Prewett of all people,” she cries, shaking her head as your cheeks burn, thinking of all the embarrassing things you must’ve been doing for the past few days. “I’m so glad none of it was real.”
Letting out a light laugh, you rub at the back of your neck; “I imagine I embarrassed myself quite a bit, huh?”
“A little,” Ominis says honestly, grimacing. “But it wasn’t your fault and the school is sure to know that when Leander is expelled for using a potion on you like that.”
His words bring comfort, even if a little.
“Y/N must be tired, guys,” Sebastian calls out after a moment. “Let’s leave her to rest.”
Ominis nods, offering you a small squeeze on the shoulder before pulling Anne with him who just grins at her brother; “I trust you’ll take good care of her for me though, won’t you, brother?”
Sebastian’s cheeks burn red and you turn away, but he doesn't argue.
Once Anne and Ominis have left, Sebastian returns to the seat he’d been in beside your bed, Blainey having left to give the both of you a bit of space. There’s a silence that swallows the both of you, and then, slowly, you let your hand fall on his.
“I’m sorry.”
Sebastian blinks, turning to you. “Why are you…”
You bite your lip, looking at your lap, cheeks flushed. “Whatever I did… I know Ominis said it already, but really, none of it was me… you know that, right?”
Sebastian flips his hand, taking yours in his and squeezing. “You have no idea how reassuring that is to hear.”
Your eyes snap to his, lips parting.
He shakes his head. “Even when Anne discovered you’d been drugged, there was still a part of me that… I–I guess, it’s just… seeing you act that way with him, kissing and holding and-and being with him like that… It made me terribly uncomfortable.”
You shift, leaning closer to him; “just uncomfortable?”
“Jealous.”
He glances up at you, and you meet his eyes, hand still in his as your free hand reaches forward, daring yourself to brush your fingers through his curls. Sebastian lets you, eyes watching you, before suddenly he’s leaning forward and then his lips are on yours, soft and warm albeit nervous, pulling away too soon as your lips part and you stare back at him.
“Incredibly jealous.”
You smile softly, “I didn’t mean any of it.” You whisper, emphasizing the words. “I didn't mean any of it with him because I wanted it to be with you, Sebastian.”
He grins, his face easing for the first time since you’d woken up and the sight of it is enough to fill you with warmth.
Then, Sebastian’s lip part and he’s grinning a little too widely; “that’s a relief because it was almost embarrassing for me to see you fawning over—”
You cut him off with a sharp slap to his shoulder, one he gasps in response to, holding the offended spot but the grin never fades from his lips as he smirks over at you.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”And of course, his eyes sparkle with glee; “nope.”
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy x reader#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian x reader#ominis gaunt#anne sallow
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Breaking point
Summary: Two years after the turmoil of her fifth year at Hogwarts, MC returns for her seventh year, haunted by past trauma and the ghosts of broken friendships. Reconnecting with Ominis and Sebastian, her once closest friends, is no easy feat. As she drowns her pain in reckless parties, endless boys and destructive behavior, both boys watch helplessly, knowing she’s spiraling. When a night takes a dark turn, they intervene, and MC is forced to face the pain she’s been hiding. But Sebastian, with his own regrets, is determined to help her heal—and to prove that he’s not letting her go.
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!reader (fluff at the end/protective Seb)
Warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse and slutshaming. Characters aged up to 7th year!
a/n: is this fandom still alive? Maybe I'm to late to the party ;) But I'm really enjoying myself haha. Plan to do more in the future: preparing some prompts and headcanons en requests are open. Give me a follow for more.
It had been two years since their fateful fifth year, and though the dust had settled, the wounds had not. Life at Hogwarts carried on, but for MC, every hallway, every classroom, and every face served as a reminder of what she had endured. She returned to Hogwarts for her seventh year, her path winding her back to the two people who had once been her closest friends: Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow.
It wasn’t immediate, this reconnection. Time had a way of healing and, at the same time, pushing people apart. Their sixth year had been quiet—MC had needed space to deal with everything, to step back from the chaos that had consumed her life. But now, in their final year, they had found each other again, tentatively rebuilding their friendship.
And yet, something was different.
Sebastian had never stopped loving her. That much was obvious to Ominis, even if Sebastian refused to admit it outright. The way his eyes softened when she entered the room, the protective edge in his tone whenever someone so much as teased her—it was clear to anyone paying attention. But MC, though she cared deeply for him, was terrified of letting herself feel the same.
She couldn’t.
If she allowed herself to feel for Sebastian, she risked everything. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if it ruined their fragile friendship? She couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. Not again. And so, she buried her feelings and found other ways to cope.
At first, it had been small things. A few late nights at parties, a glass of Firewhisky here and there. But as the year wore on, her coping mechanisms became destructive. She was at every party, taking shot after shot until the world blurred around her. She laughed too loudly, danced too wildly, and left with boys who didn’t know her name and didn’t care to.
It wasn’t long before Ominis and Sebastian noticed.
“She’s not herself,” Ominis said one night, pacing the floor of their shared dormitory. “She’s drinking too much. She is searching for validation in other people arms. She’s… reckless.”
Sebastian sat on his bed, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists. He didn’t need Ominis to tell him what he already knew.
“I’ve seen her,” he muttered. “I’ve seen her, throw herself to others, going way behond her own limits, Ominis. She doesn’t even look like herself anymore.”
Ominis stopped pacing, his expression grim. “She’s hurting, Sebastian. She’s been hurting for years, and we didn’t help. She needed us, and we weren’t there. After everything she has done for us”
Sebastian flinched at the words. He couldn’t deny it. In their fifth year, he had hurt her—his obsession with saving Anne, the lies, the dark magic. He had driven a wedge between them, and the guilt of it still weighed heavily on him.
“But what do we do now?” Sebastian asked, his voice low. “She won’t listen to us. She doesn’t even look at me anymore.”
Ominis sighed. “We keep an eye on her. We make sure she’s safe, even if she doesn’t want us to. And when the time is right, we talk to her. Really talk to her.”
The Slytherin common room was packed, the air thick with the smell of Firewhisky and the sound of laughter. It was one of the biggest parties of the year, and MC was right in the center of it.
She looked radiant, her cheeks flushed, her laughter ringing out above the noise. But to Sebastian and Ominis, who watched from the corner of the room, there was a sadness in her eyes that no one else seemed to notice.
“She’s already drunk,” Ominis said quietly, his gaze fixed on her as she stumbled slightly, leaning on a nearby table for support.
Sebastian’s fists clenched. “I’m not letting her leave with anyone tonight.”
They continued to watch as she floated from group to group, her laughter louder, her movements more erratic. And then Weasley approached her.
It started innocently enough. Garreth poured her another drink, cracking jokes that made her laugh. But as the night wore on, his intentions became clearer. He moved closer to her, his hand brushing against her arm, then her waist. MC, too drunk to notice—or too drunk to care—didn’t push him away.
Sebastian’s blood boiled.
“She’s too far gone for this,” he growled, stepping forward, but Ominis grabbed his arm.
“Not yet. Let’s see if she pushes him off.”
But she didn’t. Garreth led her to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crowd. She swayed on her feet, barely able to keep her balance, but Garreth steadied her.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was rough, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her against him. MC stiffened, her hands pressing weakly against his chest, but she was too drunk to fight back. His hands began to wander, slipping down to her thighs, and that was when Sebastian snapped.
“Get your hands off her!”
He was across the room in seconds, shoving Garreth away with a force that sent him stumbling. Garreth glared, his face red with anger and embarrassment.
“She wanted it” Garreth spat, but Sebastian didn’t let him finish.
“She’s drunk,” Sebastian snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “She couldn’t consent even if she did want it. You’re pathetic.”
Ominis stepped in, his hand on Sebastian’s arm. “Enough. Let’s get her out of here.”
MC was barely coherent, her head lolling against Sebastian’s chest as he scooped her into his arms.
The Room of Requirement was quiet, the chaos of the party far behind them. Sebastian laid MC gently on a plush sofa, pulling a blanket over her as Ominis conjured a glass of water.
“She’s going to hate us for this,” Ominis said softly.
“I don’t care,” Sebastian replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not letting her destroy herself.”
They stayed by her side through the night, refusing to leave her alone. When she finally stirred, the early morning light filtering through the room, she groaned softly, her head pounding.
“Where… where am I?” she mumbled.
“The Room of Requirement,” Sebastian said, his voice gentle. “You drank too much. We brought you here.”
She sat up slowly, her eyes darting between the two boys. “Did I… did something happen?”
Sebastian hesitated, his jaw tightening. “Garreth crossed a line. We stopped him.”
Her face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop,” Ominis said firmly. “You don’t need to apologize to us. But you do need to stop doing this to yourself.”
Sebastian knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Why, MC? Why are you doing this? Drinking, partying�� pushing us away?”
She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to feel anymore. I can’t… I can’t risk losing you. Either of you. If I let myself feel anything, it’ll destroy me.”
“You’re not going to lose us,” he said again, his voice steadier this time. “But you have to stop hurting yourself. You have to let someone in, MC.”
Her lips quivered, and she shook her head. “I can’t. What if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything? You don’t understand, Sebastian. You… you mean everything to me. You both do. If I lose you, I don’t know how to keep going.”
Sebastian felt his heart crack open. Every word she spoke was another piece of armor he hadn’t realized he’d been wearing, falling away. “And you think I don’t feel the same?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She blinked at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You… what?”
“I love you,” he said, firmer now. “I’ve been in love with you since Fifth Year. And seeing you like this—seeing you with Garreth, seeing you destroy yourself—it’s killing me. I can’t stand it anymore, MC. I can’t.”
Her breath hitched, her hands tightening around his as though he might disappear if she let go. “But why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t think I deserved you,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “Not after everything I did. Not after how much I hurt you back then.”
“You didn’t hurt me, Sebastian,” she said, her voice trembling. “You were trying to save Anne. You were trying to save your family. I could never hate you for that.”
Sebastian let out a shaky laugh, his forehead falling to hers. “And I could never hate you for what you’ve done this year. But you have to stop punishing yourself. You’re not alone. You never were.”
The words hit her like a tidal wave. For years, she had carried the weight of her guilt, her grief, her fear—alone. And now, here was Sebastian, promising to share it with her. To stay by her side no matter what.
She let out a choked sob and pulled him into a fierce hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, over and over again.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he murmured, his arms wrapping tightly around her. “Just let me be here for you. Please.”
For the first time in years, she let herself believe that she wasn’t alone.
When the three of them returned to the Great Hall the next morning, the whispers began almost immediately.
“Look at her. The hero of Hogwarts, brought home by her two protectors again.”
“Bet she’s gone through half the boys in Slytherin by now.”
“She’ll probably ditch Sebastian and take Ominis next. What’s another name on the list?”
MC’s face burned as the whispers reached her ears. She felt every judgmental gaze, every smirk. It was suffocating. She tried to retreat into herself, but Sebastian caught her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.
“Don’t listen to them,” he said quietly. “They don’t know you.”
But the words lingered.
Over the next week, the rumors only grew worse. Despite the clear shift in MC’s behavior—she avoided parties, stopped behaving recklessly, and spent most of her time with Sebastian and Ominis—the whispers followed her wherever she went. And it didn’t take long for people to start turning their attention to Sebastian.
“She’s just using him. He’s the next notch on her wand.”
“Poor Sebastian. He’s in over his head with her.”
It boiled under his skin, every cruel word igniting his frustration. But he knew MC was the one who was truly suffering.
“You don’t believe them, do you?” he asked her one night as they sat by the fire in the Room of Requirement.
“No,” she said quietly, but her voice betrayed her doubt. “But it’s hard not to. After everything I’ve done… maybe they’re right.”
Sebastian cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “They are not right. You’re more than their stupid gossip, MC. You’re more than your mistakes.” He leaned closer, his voice softening. “You’re mine.”
Her eyes widened, her lips parting as his words settled over her.
“I mean it,” he continued. “I don’t care what they say. I don’t care what they think. You’re mine, and I’m not letting anyone take you away from me.”
The breaking point came a week later during a Potions class. Garreth Weasley had taken to making sly comments under his breath whenever MC or Sebastian walked by. Most of the time, Sebastian ignored him, but today, something snapped.
“Well, well,” Garreth said, loud enough for the whole class to hear. “Looks like Sallow finally got his turn. Tell me, MC, how does he compare to the others?”
The room fell silent.
Sebastian shot out of his seat, his wand already drawn. “Take that back,” he snarled, his voice deadly calm.
Garreth smirked. “What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
“Take. It. Back.”
“Sebastian!” MC’s voice cut through the tension, pulling him back. He turned to her, his face twisted in anger and pain.
“Let them say what they want,” she said softly, her hand brushing against his. “They don’t matter. You do.”
For a moment, the room was frozen. And then, without hesitation, Sebastian cupped her face and kissed her.
It wasn’t a soft, tentative kiss. It was fierce and full of fire, a declaration for everyone in the room to see. When he pulled away, he turned back to Garreth, his hand still on MC’s cheek.
“She’s not some name on a list,” he said coldly. “She’s mine. And if I hear you—or anyone else—talk about her like that again, you’ll regret it.”
The class erupted into murmurs as the professor returned, breaking the moment. But the damage was done. The rumors didn’t stop entirely, but they shifted.
In the days that followed, MC felt something she hadn’t felt in years: peace. Sebastian was by her side at every turn, his presence a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone anymore.
They spent their days together in quiet moments—reading by the fire, sneaking out to the Forbidden Forest for walks, or simply sitting in the Great Hall, their fingers brushing under the table.
And when the whispers started up again, Sebastian was quick to silence them with a sharp glare or a cutting remark. Ominis, ever loyal, had even taken to redirecting conversations when he overheard anything cruel.
For the first time in years, MC felt like she could breathe again.
One evening, as they sat together in the Room of Requirement, Sebastian turned to her, his expression serious.
“Promise me something,” he said.
“Anything,” she replied.
“Promise me you won’t shut me out again. No matter how bad things get, no matter how scared you are, you come to me. Always.”
She smiled, her eyes shining with tears. “I promise.”
And when she kissed him this time, it wasn’t about proving anything to anyone. It was just for them.
For once, she was finally home.
#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow imagine#sebastian sallow x y/n#sebastian sallow fluff#sebastian sallow angst#sebastian sallow smut#sebastian sallow series#sebastian sallow oneshot#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow fic recs#hogwarts#harry potter#fluff#smut#angst#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt oneshot#ominis gaunt fanfiction#ominis gaunt x reader#hl fanfic#hl angst#hogwarts legacy angst fanfic#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy oneshot#reader pov
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PAC: September 2024 Predictions
Hello beautiful people! I am finally back and I feel wonderful! I hope you all do too! I am just getting settled into school and I feel very confident about what's to come! It has been a long time coming but I feel ready to launch into this new fall era! I hope you all are too! My booking site is officially open so I will link it here in order for you all to have access to it. I will be taking readings starting Friday. So without further ado, please select the photo that aligns with you and don't forget to tell your friends about me! I hope that you all enjoy!
Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)
Pile One: You are in a bit of a pickle, I can tell. Just remember this: the choice is always yours. You can choose what reality you want to make yours. I am channeling the movie ‘Look Both Ways’ starring Lili Reinhart and Danny Ramirez. You will have difficulties coming to a decision. Watching this movie can help with your indecision quite a bit. It also feels as though you need to cut certain things out. I am especially picking up on overspending and overeating. You also need to cut down on screen time and any other distractions that may be capturing your attention. For those of you that are attracted to men, you should stop hooking up with them. A potential pregnancy/STD scare could occur. Overall, it seems that you should be working on improving your health. Virgo energy is significant. By the end of October, you should see the results that you want to see. I am also channeling the movie ‘The Princess Diaries’ starring Anne Hathaway. You are on the brink of transformation. There is a reason why your body is not digesting foods properly at this time. There is a reason why you feel out of place at the moment socially. Your body is rejecting your current environment because you are being prepared for a new one. You may meet someone who you aspire to be like. They will help you get aligned with your goals (personal, career, financial, etc). Do not be afraid to use your connections. Networking will be helpful for you to do. Remember, a closed mouth never gets fed and plan accordingly for your upcoming journey. You know what to do.
Cards Used: Page of Swords, 7 of Cups, 2 of Discs, The Hanged Man, Queen of Swords, 9 of Swords, The Magician, The Chariot, Princess of Discs
extras: cutting out certain foods. resisting temptation. random dancing. struggling with internalized fatphobia/homophobia. halloween costume. myriad.
PIle Two: I feel like this pile works with older women or have the tendency to surround themselves with older women. Perhaps, you get along with them better? You are wise beyond your years. Seeking knowledge from them about a situation that deeply concerns you will not hurt. This month will be all about retribution. Some of you want to learn more about casting spells. Others of you could be trying to seek justice in the courts. Some of you want to perform street justice. However, you should weigh out the pros and cons. Does your idea of punishment match the actions of the person that has harmed you? This is exactly why you will need to reach out to someone older than you. This month, you may be spending more time with a mother figure especially if she is sick. During this time, you may find that your support system isn’t as supportive as you thought they were. It’s time to cut them loose. Also, if you’ve been lurking on their page hoping for an apology, you will not get it. It is best that you move forward so that you do not go crazy. Be prepared to take extra precautions this month so that you don’t get sick. Hydrate and moisturize. Take Vitamin C. Go for a light jog or a walk after you eat so that you can avoid throwing up. Also, you should go out to the city more often to admire the sights. Lastly, some of you will be getting pulled over by the police this month. I also heard “search warrant”. If you’re doing something that is questionable, nothing will be found. If you just get pulled over, you will be free to go. I suggest paying off any parking tickets like now though, just to be safe.
Cards Used: The Empress, 10 of Cups, The Moon, The Hermit, 6 of Discs, 8 of Cups, Princess of Swords, 6 of Cups, 4 of Discs
extras: fast track. appreciation day. MLK boulevard. sweet sixteen. i declare thumb war. swear jar. every kiss begins with kay. beauty queen. travesty. marshawn lynch. salty cravings. that time of the month.
Pile Three: Smiling through the pain, huh, lovely? You might not understand the significance of what you’re going through right now but you will get it later. For those of you who are in on/off again situations/romantic relationships in general, you need to know that communication is key! It’s so cliche to say but knowing that you have someone to depend on when things get rough can be what grounds us. You need to trust that whatever you are going through, you will get through this; the both of you. For those of you that are single, you have to be open to the process of getting to know other people. You are about to be in a soulmate connection but in order for you to meet them, you have to let them in! There is a reason why you are meeting them now. They will serve their purpose. No time will be wasted here. You are a very logical/analytical person, but there is no reason why you should be locking yourself in your room all the time. You need to be out with other humans. It’s a very good time for you to go out to clubs, restaurants, bars, clubs, jazz lounges, sip and paints, speakeasies, poetry slams, etc. Allow yourself to exist in the moment so that you don’t have to think about your problems. Be an escapist for once, and this brings me to my last point! You need to balance out your realism and your imagination. There is something that you have wanted since you were a child, but you are suppressing it. It could be wanting to try out a certain food, wanting to go to a different country, wanting to go to a specific artist’s concert, but you have been too busy to do so. You need to spoil yourself! Allow your inner child to be healed by actually listening to them. You can get your work done while also being fun! What’s the point in living if you don’t actually live, babe?
Cards Used: 6 of Cups, 3 of Cups, The Tower, The Lovers, The Star, The Hierophant, The Hanged Man, The Chariot, 8 of Pentacles
extras: kitchen salon. ass-kisser. por favor. typing up papers. graphs. mathematics major. public health/public relations/humanities major. sour candy.
Pile Four: There are so many opportunities for you to market yourself, Pile Four. If you’ve been trying to expand your market/business, there will be plenty of opportunities coming toward you. If you have been trying to get a fellowship/grant/scholarship/loan, there will be an opportunity that fits you perfectly. But before you get involved with anyone, be sure that you read any contracts fully before signing so that you do not get involved in anything you don’t want to. I feel like right now, you may be experiencing boredom or a “cool down” period. That is fine, but prepare yourself to actually get up and take action. You will not be sitting for much longer. If there is a situation where you are looking for the resolution to play out in your favor, it will. It could be a familial/friend fight. It could be someone admitting to their wrongdoings. It could be a simple miscommunication being resolved in person instead of over the phone. Make sure that you have all of your ducks in a row so that no one can call you out on being neglectful. I feel like this pile needs to spend more time with their family members as well, lol. September will be the month for you to do that especially if it’s Grandma’s birthday. If you wish to quit your job, don’t. It will set you up for the future. You could potentially meet a client or a business partner at your job, so don’t blow it off just yet. You could also connect with someone who you will look forward to seeing everyday as well very soon.
Cards Used: The Magician, 2 of Wands, 10 of Discs, Princess of Discs, 4 of Cups, Justice, Temperance, 8 of Wands, King of Cups, The Hermit.
extras: resistance. princess diana. dragonfruit. time tables. shifting gears. gta 6. pomegranate. pizza. oopsie daisy. thin veil. rising gas prices. california.
#tarotreading#tarot#pick a card#divination#pick a pile#tarot pac#pac reading#free tarot readings#free tarot reading#tarot readings#free tarot#daily tarot#tarot deck#tarot reading#spirituality#18+ readings#tarot services#healing#channeled reading#tarot pick a card#free divination#witchblr#Spotify
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Oh god now that toh ends with luz being able to travel between worlds ppl are using that to dunk on amphibia. And now that belos died ppl are using that to dunk on su.
They are different shows people! They have different themes! Amphibia is a classic take on isekai as escapism! Marcy went to amphibia to avoid her real life and while she had fun she didnt mature until after she accepted she needed to embrace change in her life! Anne matured in amphibia bc she always recognized that she has her own life to get back to! Sasha matured after realizing that too! Leaving amphibia for good means to embrace the step out of childhood! Something thats inevitable for everyone!
The owl house is about finding a community in midst of ostracization! Luz stayed in the boiling isles because she found people who accepted her quirks! The boiling isles was in danger from a bigot and luz helps her new community defeat him! Its a very queer story! Community is the center of the story so it makes sense for luz to be able to go back to the boiling isles since shes maintaining her place in the community!
Steven universe is about choosing to be kind! Its that everyone has their own specific traumas that they can overcome with the right support! Its about surviving in a world of bigots at any cost, even if it you have to work with the bigots to carve out a space for the people you love! Because people like you exist and theres nothing anyone in power can do about it! Its also a very queer story! The diamonds can never stamp out the off colors because they will always be there! Steven works with the diamonds not because he likes them but because they can improve the world for his family if only he could get through to them! Hes rewarded for choosing to be kind with success because the theme of the show is hope! Hope that anyone can change! But even though the diamonds stop being fascist steven still doesnt like them because its not about forgiveness! Its about fixing things! Stevens just polite about it!
The owl house starts off with the assumption that everyone can change but its not about the potential its about the willingness to change! The focus is on belos, whos had every chance to turn his life around but will never admit that hes wrong! And the show posits that if someone isnt willing to change theyre not worth helping! Its not about whether or not the character is fascist its about if theyre willing to stop being fascist! Several characters stop being fascist and are welcomed by the characters with open arms belos just wasnt one of them! Several characters clean up their acts but dont adequately address the previous harm they did and are STILL fully forgiven eventually! For toh forgiveness is paired with fixing things you just need to give it time!
And theres an argument that some of these shows didnt do their themes well. If you wanted to portray amphibia as an escapism world that the girls need to leave behind to get to their richer futures then having them get such caring found families go against that by giving them a potential of a good life in the isekai world. Steven universe uses the diamonds as metaphors for mental illness and relationships but its hard to stick with that when you also need to consider the countless other gems they hurt. I think its also fair if people prefer one theme over another.
But a lot of stuff i see comparing these shows just go over surface similarities? Like oh shit! These two shows have the same character archetypes! They have the same inciting incident! This must mean that theyre exactly the same in everything but names and artstyle and are trying to say the exact same things! Like. No. Sometimes,,,,,two stories,,,,,,can talk about two different things,,,,,,,
#shut up pandora#the owl house#toh#amphibia#steven universe#su#emperor belos#phillip wittebane#should i tag the other characters mentioned?#not the diamonds actually#marcy wu#sasha waybright#anne boonchuy
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BFG (8)
Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…
Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader
Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, fluff, implied smut, reunion
A/N: I added the pregnancy because of an ask.
Catch up here: BFG (7)
BFG masterlist
You had the best night’s sleep in weeks. When you woke, you were warm, relaxed, and comfortable.
You murmured Reacher’s name, still half asleep. In your sleepy haze, you believed his strong arms were wrapped tightly around your body. A pleasant dream – or so you thought.
“I’m here, peach pie,” your eyes snapped open, and you stiffened in his embrace. This couldn’t be true. He left. Reacher left town and he never comes back to the place he left. That’s just how he lives his life. “You’re safe with me, Y/N.”
“Reacher?” You choked out his name, more a whimper than a word. “How can you be here? I thought…” You sniffled and shook your head. It had to be a dream. Reacher would never come back for you. “Why are you here?”
“I told you that if I ever come back, it’s for you,” he nuzzled his face in your neck. Reacher moved his hand under your nightie to gently place his big hand on your belly. “Why didn’t you tell me about the baby? I told you that if you ever need help, that’d be there for you, peach pie.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear. “The better question is, why did you not contact me.”
“You’ve got no phone and after you left I believed that I’ll never see you again,” your voice trembled when you answered his question. “I didn’t want to be a burden and call your friend. I believe they have better things to do than looking for a way to reach you. And I didn’t know if you’d care, Reacher. We barely know each other, and you left before I found out about the baby.”
“Of course I care, peach pie,” he sounded hurt but held you a little tighter. “I care a lot for you, and my baby. I’d do anything to keep you and them safe.”
“I don’t understand how you found out about the baby. I didn’t tell anyone but Sally Ann about the baby—” You gasped. “Frances.”
“Please don’t be mad at her. I asked Neagley to check on you,” Reacher whispered in your ear. “She likes you a lot, and the fact you got a huge collection of cereals in your kitchen.”
You chuckled. “She loves her cereals.”
“That she does.”
“Why did you come back? I had it handled and—” You shook your head. “If you cared for me in the first place, why did you leave me then?”
“My lifestyle is so different from yours and I left because I never stayed in one place for too long,” he exhaled sharply. “I wanted you to not fall for me because I’m not sure how to do normal.”
“Do you think I have a plan? I’m pregnant from a man I barely know. The one sweeping me off of my feet without any effort,” you huffed. “I don’t know what to do. Why are you here? I don’t want you to feel responsible for me and the baby. I let you fuck me bare and are as guilty as you are.”
“I feel responsible because I am responsible for you, and our baby. You’re not a burden, Y/N,” he kissed your temple. “Leaving you and your home was one of the hardest things I ever did. You’re important to me and it pained me to walk out of your life.”
In lack of words, you nodded and sniffled. “You’re important to me too.”
He was silent for a moment. Reacher isn’t a man of many words; you already knew that. “I-I never was good with words or telling another person how I feel. Maybe something is…”
“No,” you wiggled in his embrace to turn around and cup his face. “There is nothing wrong with you, Reacher. You’ve got a big heart, but no roots. It’s normal that you never found a home in any place.”
He closed his eyes when you pressed your lips to his. Reacher didn’t tell you that it felt like coming home when he stepped inside your house again.
It was too soon, and he was scared you wouldn’t believe him. He just came back into your life.
“I made breakfast,” Reacher watched you walk inside the kitchen, a content smile on his lips. “Everything you’ll need to start the day.”
“Morning,” you yawned and rubbed your eyes. “I fell asleep after we talked. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Uh-I checked in on Finlay and Roscoe. I thought I owed them that much.”
You nodded and gave him a shy smile. Reacher never talked about what happened with KJ, and the others, and you didn’t ask. You’re sure they had it coming.
“I heard Finlay wants to leave,” you said as you walked toward the kitchen island. You hopped onto the counter to watch Reacher finish the scrambled eggs. “I hope he finds happiness again. He looks so sad sometimes.”
“He lost his wife,” Reacher cleared his throat. “The love of his life. I wouldn’t know how to live without—” He bit his tongue. “I hope he finds happiness too.”
“What about Roscoe?” You poked his bicep. “Did you have a good time with her?"
“Peach pie,” he purred and stepped between your legs, “I only have a good time with you around. You know that.”
“Yeah?” you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I bet it’s my peach pie luring you in.”
“Definitely,” he pecked your lips. “It’s soft and warm,” Reacher smirked hearing a tiny whimper escape your lips. “Snug and tight around me.”
“Reacher…” you breathed against his lips. “You’re here…you’re back.” You sniffled. “I can’t believe you are back.”
Reacher wrapped his arms around your body while you slung your legs around his waistline. He walked out of the kitchen with you, something else than the scrambled eggs on his mind.
“I’m back to stay.”
“I don’t have that big and stable bed for no reason,” you giggled at his eagerness. “Just you know, I wasn’t with anyone else.”
“Fuck, I hope so,” he growled and stopped in his tracks. Reacher pressed you against the wall to kiss you hard.
You looked at him, lips pursed. “What about you?”
“Of course not,” he kissed you again; a little softer this time. “I couldn’t get my sweet peach pie out of my head.”
“I’ve missed you too, Reacher.”
For a moment, you looked at each other, having a conversation without words. “I want you so bad,” Reacher broke the silence first. “I need you.”
You whimpered at his admission. Reacher will never know how much you missed him. It felt like he stole a part of your heart and took it with him when he left.
You’d never allow him to leave again. If he tried to sneak out, you’d call Neagley and hunt your man down.
“Well then, let’s go to my bedroom and celebrate our reunion the best way possible…”
Part 9
Tags in reblog.
#reacher x reader#reacher x you#reacher x y/n#plussized!reader#Reacher x Plussized!Reader#fluff#pregnant reader#BFG (8)
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Seasons with you
pairing: changbin x gn!reader
genre: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers au
word count: 5.0k
warnings: vague descriptions of anxiety, insecurities, depression, abusive exes (not physically), lots of metaphors, they're in love your honor!
a/n: okay this might be one of my favorite fics i ever wrote, i got so emotional and sappy while writing it (i cried aksksll) and i hope y'all love this as much as i love it🥹🩷 binnie deserves the world and so do you, reader💕
(the book i'm referencing in my fic is called 'my name is memory' by ann brashares)
~check out my: Masterlist
🌸SPRING🌸
It is a known fact that everything comes alive with the arrival of spring. The sun rises earlier in the morning, illuminating the trees and the flowers, uncovering new sights to be seen, ones that were blanketed by the darkness of the night before.
The first drops of dew are heavy on a small leaf, making it bend but never break as they slide down to the grass, all the way into the earth below, satiating it's thirst, kissing the roots buried deep.
It's silly to think so, but you kind of relate to the little leaf as you sit on your picnic blanket and stare at it. You always bend to other people's will, always put yourself in the second place, forgetting about your own needs, telling them and yourself that it's fine and you're fine just like this. You bend and bend, and you wonder how much longer you can bend without breaking.
Sometimes you're the little drop in the sea of other drops, invisible and unremarkable, existing just to serve some higher purpose, to feed the earth and disappear like you never even existed before.
Thoughts like this plague your mind often times, especially on a beautiful day like this, when the sun is shining high in the sky, revealing all the colors of pretty flowers that bloomed in the grass, the clouds that look like cotton candy, so fluffy you wish you could bite into them and taste the sweetness of sugar.
The serenity and the beauty around you only feed into the sorrowful black hole inside you that grows bigger and bigger each time you give a piece of yourself and get nothing in return.
Everything comes alive with the arrival of spring, and you hope that this spring you will come alive too, blossom with all the pretty flowers, be one of them and not just a disregardable little leaf.
You wouldn't dream of being the sun itself, when that title is already taken, saved in your heart for your best friend Changbin. The one who is as warm and bright as the sun itself that you're sure the flowers bloom whenever he passes by them. They bask in his incadescence, seeking his light just like you do, but you would never ask for too much, never say it out loud, never bother him with the darkest parts of you in fear of dimming his brightness.
You have no idea that you don't even need to ask, Changbin would reach up and pluck the stars out of the sky only for you, just so he can see that beautiful smile you give him as he approaches you. And as much as he loves the smile that dances on your lips, he can't help but notice every time that it doesn't reach your eyes.
You hide, but the eyes are a mirror to the soul and the dark hole that grows inside you is reflected in your gaze, making Changbin wish he could reach in and touch your soul, illuminate the darkest parts of you. Where you see yourself as the insignificant leaf, he sees you as the most beautiful flower, too delicate to be plucked out roughly like you were before when uncaring hands wrapped around you. Where you see yourself as a little droplet, disappearing and forgettable, he sees you as the water giving life to everything and everyone you come in touch with, the love you carry inside your heart for others quenching their thirst as you scatter parts of yourself all around.
You wave at him, your other hand coming up to shield your eyes from the rays of sun peeking through the leaves as they start rustling. The wind is picking up and your eyes fall to the flowers swaying in the field and then back to your friend's fluffy hair, swaying in unison with the flowers.
Changbin waves back at you, a smile so big on his face that you wish it was all yours, you wish you could be selfish like that and keep him all to yourself, but you can't.
"You left without me."- he pouts as he sits next to you, placing the basket he brought next to his legs.
"Sorry, I peeked into your room and you were still asleep. I didn't want to wake you."- you say, placing your book aside as Changbin opens up the basket.
"Brought you apples."- he says, knowing it was your favorite thing to eat early in the morning. "I washed them, too!"- he adds as he hands you one and you chuckle.
"Thanks, Binnie."- you smile and bite into the apple. It's the perfect sour and refreshing taste sprinkling on your tongue and waking you up a little, spreading through your body.
"Are you still reading that book about soulmates?"- Changbin asks, getting more comfortable on the blanket as he chews on an apple too, the crunchy sounds filling your ears, melting together with the birds singing in the tree above you.
"Yes well, it's the third time I'm reading it actually."
"Doesn't it have a sad ending?"- he asks, tilting his head to look at you as you stare ahead, counting how many red flowers you can see in front of you. Sometimes counting stuff like that calms you down and you do it almost subconsciously, listening to what Changbin is talking about at the same time.
"Not everything is meant to have a happy ending."- you sigh, he reads between the lines. You're referring to yourself, he knows it as well as you do and it's like a thorn in his heart, piercing through the muscle, making him bleed red, red like the flowers you're tallying up.
"Maybe the journey should be appreciated more than just wanting to skip to an ending. Be it happy or sad."- he smiles and you chuckle at his words, the warmness of the sun on your legs is nothing compared to the warmness Changbin envelopes your heart with.
"Maybe."- you shrug, your apathy deeply rooted inside you, you're stubborn like a child and you can't or maybe don't want to let the sunshine in.
🌸
Today must be a special day, a day filled with warmth and laughter. You don't remember the last time you had this much fun, the last time you were this carefree, finally forgetting about what you have to do and who wants to tear away another piece of you.
There's a fair in town, one that has been a constant in your lives, you attended it every year, ever since you were kids when your mothers had to hold your hands and warn you not to wander too far. You never missed a year and this one was probably your favorite.
The only thoughts in your head are Changbin and how you had to try so hard to resist kissing him all over his face when he picked up a kalimba from one of the stands and started playing a random melody on it.
He looked so gleeful like he was that child again, your best friend, who grew up with you and who you grew to love more than yourself, so irresistible and loveable to you. He focused on the instrument in his hands and you didn't want to shatter the sweet moment even though he wasn't even hitting any of the notes right.
"I'll get it for you."- you say when he finally looks up at you, his eyes are shiny as he smiles.
"Really?!"- he asks excitedly and you nod, thinking nothing of it, it wasn't something very expensive and you didn't mind buying him a gift he liked but to Changbin it meant so much more.
After all, he still has the pretty rock you found on the beach when you were 9 and gave it to him as a present, claiming you were sure that it was the prettiest one and that he deserves to have it.
"I swear I'll learn to play it."- he says after you pay for it, making you laugh.
"I'm expecting a full concert."- you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.
"With an encore!"- he adds, both of you giggling as you stroll together, your shoulders brushing occasionally, making your heart skip a beat or two.
You browse through many stands and both of you get hungry, stomach growling and legs cramping from all the walking. You decide to get some dessert, pancakes with ice cream, and you sit on one of the benches, the view of people eating, laughing and talking with their loved ones before you.
Changbin notices pretty flowers right there next to him and he gently plucks one out. You look at him and he smiles at you, like you're the most beautiful of them all as his hand reaches towards you and places the flower in your hair.
"What is that for?"- you chuckle, your cheeks warm and you almost bring your hand up to touch them, but you're balancing the ice cream pancake in your lap, you don't want it to fall and make a mess of your clothes and the floor.
"Looks prettier there."- he says and your breath is caught in your throat.
He means the flower, not you, it's not you, it's never you, that is what you think.
You don't say anything, you look back at your food and Changbin deflates, wishing he could find a delicate way to yell out how beautiful you are, how precious your heart is and how rare a soul like yours is. He wishes to do so quietly, so you don't get scared and run off like a vunerable animal that jumps at any loud sound.
You feel down suddenly, but Changbin doesn't let you feel blue for too long, quickly changing the subject to something funny he remembered or a movie he found interesting.
And when you finish your pancake, your stomach is full and so is your heart. Even just for a moment, you feel full.
You start walking back home, your legs hurting and Changbin offers you to climb on his back and you do so, both of you laughing as he jokes around, pretending he'll drop you as you squeal before he actually starts walking normally with you attached to his back. He carries you home as your limbs wrap around him, wrapping around his heart even more.
You fall asleep as he carries you and he hates having to wake you up as he stands on your porch.
Your peaceful sleepy state is something Chanbgin wishes you could have when you're awake. He wishes he could be your peace, your comfort, your home.
And as he bids you good night, he stands on the porch a little longer than he needed to, even after you close and lock the door.
"I love you."- he whispers, his hand clutching the kalimba you so happily bought for him.
🫧SUMMER🫧
You don't like it. None of it. Not the weather, not the sun constantly making you feel like you're sizzling, not the crowded streets, not the laughter and squeals you can hear whenever you arrive at a beach.
You're a starfish, arms and legs spread out on your bed as you melt into it, the only sounds you hear are the fan turning and the music playing low as you stare up at the ceiling.
There are weird little spots on the ceiling, they were always there, you remember them since you were a child and you know how many there are. Exactly 43 of them but you will count them again and again, with the thought that a new one may appear any day now.
You concentration is broken on spot number 21, when Changbin walks into your room carrying a towel and a backpack.
"No."- you say before he can even open his mouth and he shakes his head, opting to try a light approach as he chuckles at you.
"You're gonna burn a hole into that bed if you keep laying in it."- he says.
"Great. Maybe it swallows me."- you say.
"You're a grim little thing, aren't you?"- he asks and you laugh, throwing a plushie at him but he manages to catch it mid-air.
"Come on, look I have watermelon. And sandwiches. And cards, we can play cards, you love that. And I brought my portable speaker."- he pouts at you and how can you say no to that?
"Alright, alright, you won me over. Give me 15 minutes to get ready."- you say, finally getting up and only then feeling how sweaty your back actually is.
Changbin waits for you in the kitchen, as you pick yourself up, take a quick shower and finish getting ready.
Your heart flutters just a little when you come down and see him helping your mom with the dishes.
In moments like this you wish you could tell him how much he means to you but your tongue twists, a knot in your stomach and a void inside your chest pulls you deeper under water, drowning you in the darkest depths of the ocean.
There's a smile on Changbin's lips the whole way to the beach as he leads you down the path you're familiar with, where your feet have padded through countless times before.
It's unbearably hot and you try to chase the shade as much as you can, the crickets screaming in unison with your burning skin. The closer you get to the beach, the more excitement courses through your veins and Changbin notices how the ends of your lips quirk up and how there's a skip in your step. His mood instantly shifts, matching your pace before the two of you start racing to the beach and giggling like crazy.
"Whoever gets there last, pays for lunch!"- you shriek as you start running, and Changbin scampers behind you slowly, ofcourse letting you win as he looks at your figure getting further away from him and fusing into the sparkly ocean and the blue sky before you.
The little giggles spilling from your lips fuel his heart and his desire to drink from your lips and taste the love that you carry inside you. He hurries to catch up and you turn to look at him breathless, weightless, elated.
The smile he loves reaches your eyes, for a fleeting moment, the sparkle that he unknowingly ignites is burning in your irises, bringing your soul out transparently only for him.
"Thank you for lunch in advance."- you smirk and he giggles.
"You don't have to thank me."- Changbin says and he means it, you don't have to thank him for anything he does for you, he would do it in a heartbeat again and again.
The two of you make it to the water, finally stripping and all but running into the water, excited to cool off a little on a hot summer day.
As soon as you adjust to the temperature of the water, laughter travels through the air between the sounds of splashes as you and Changbin start playing around, not caring if anyone is looking at you, feeling like only the two of you exist.
You wished every day of your life feels just like this.
Only when you get exhausted and the skin on your fingertips shrivels is when you finally get out of the ocean. Changbin is quick to grab a towel and put it around you, another one of the little things he does that makes your face and chest warm.
He opens the mini portable fridge, taking out some watermelon that was cut into pieces. You are the dj, playing some music on his speaker as the two of you settle into a chat.
You get lost in the ocean, watching as the waves roll and roll, your head is a little dizzy and it feels like your body rolls and crashes together with the waves. At first, it soothes you together with Changbin talking about some new band he discovered. Suddenly you feel like something's grabbing your ankles and pulling you down, and you try to fight against it. But the turmoil grows bigger and stronger, grappling to pull your head under water. You want to fight so bad, you wish to have it in you to fight for survival but you are just so tired and you have no fight left inside you anymore.
The sweet juice from the watermelon melts down your fingers, mixing with the salty tears sliding from your face down to your hand.
"Y/n?"- Changbin looks at you. "What's wrong?"- he asks, his face turning into a face of worry, his eyebrows pinched together.
You hate it, hate seeing him unhappy, hate bothering him with your silly little outbursts that you don't even know the cause of.
"N-nothing. I don't know."- you wipe at your face and his eyes soften, his hand coming up to caress your upper back gently.
"It's okay. We can count the clouds together and take deep breaths, what do you say?"- he smiles and you're slowly being pulled up from under the ocean, Changbin being the first thing you see as you emerge out and steady yourself, his hand searching for yours, fingers slotting perfectly together.
You count and he squeezes your hand, sticky from the watermelon but neither of you care. All you care about is him, and all he cares about is you finding your way back to him.
That evening, Changbin goes home with a new pretty rock you found before the two of you made your way back from the beach.
He places it next to the other one,
"I love you."
🍁FALL🍁
The heat has gone away, replaced by crisp air and the smell of petrichor. The rain drips, drips, drips on your windowpane as you sit with your warm cup of tea, a comfy blanket wrapped around your body, your book laying on the side forgotten as Changbin paces around the room, talking excitedly about some people he met who share the same love for making music as he does.
You gaze out the window, watching as the leaves fall down, hitting the ground soundlessly and making piles under the trees. You wanna count how many red ones fall down, but you can't, not when your friend is literally bouncing off the walls as he talks, distracting you from the task you gave yourself.
"Okay Binnie, I love that for you but please slow down, you're making me dizzy."- you chuckle.
"Oh! I'm sorry!"- he bursts into laughter with you, before he finally sits down, taking a deep breath in.
He talks about this Chan and Jisung that are apparently geniuses at what they do and he wants to join their little squad, and they want him to make music with them.
You're extremely proud of Changbin, you're estatic for him but you can't help feeling just a tiny bit jelaous and weird, like someone is bursting your little bubble and taking Changbin away from you. You know it's irrational, but you can't stop the tears that slide down your cheeks that night together with the raindrops sliding down your window glass as you stare at it, your legs pulled up to your chest.
You wonder what is wrong with you, why you feel so cold and abandoned, why you feel so completely alone when you know you're not.
You fall asleep only after counting raindrops.
🍁
Halloween might be your favorite holiday ever and Changbin shares the excitement with you as you decide to dress up in matching vampire attire. It wasn't the first idea that came to his mind for costumes but when he saw your puppy eyes and your lower lip jutting out cutely he couldn't say no.
There was a party held by one of your acquaintances from your uni, Hyunjin, who was popular enough to probably have the whole town come to his house, which is what went through your mind as you arrived at the party.
There were too many people for your liking, and Changbin assured you he wouldn't leave your side the whole night and if you needed to get away, he would be your partner in crime.
The evening was going fine until you caught sight of your abusive ex. A chill went down your spine. They never lifted a hand on you physically, but they always took from you, never gave anything in return, they peeled away all the layers, cut out all the pieces, fed their own desires and just kept taking and taking until you were left shattered on the floor like a porcelain doll. There were so many broken pieces that you're sure you'll never be able to glue them back together.
Changbin follows the line of your sight and finds out the reason the look on your face turned sour. He wrapps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him as your ex had the audacity to approach you.
"What are you doing?"- you whisper to Changbin and he just squeezes you gently.
"Trust me."- he whispers back, and you do. You would trust him with your life.
"Well, well, what do we have here?"- your ex smirks.
"A loving couple. You got a problem with that?"- Changbin speaks up and you gasp, you've never seen him speak to someone like that, you always saw him as a soft teddy bear, tender and sweet, always delicate with you like you were made of glass.
Your heart beats hard against your chest at the thought of you and Changbin being a couple, a loving couple at that and you dare to let yourself dream for a second as you drown out the sounds of the party wilding around you and your ex scoffing as they fuck off back into the mass of moving people.
"You okay?"- Changbin asks and you nod.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Surprised they didn't talk back to you, honestly."- you say as Changbin leads you to the couch so you can sit and calm down.
"Maybe they turned over a new leaf."- he says and you chuckle, it sounds so easy to do that, a leaf weighs absolutely nothing. You wish you could do the same, but when the hands are heavy, even lifting something as wispy as a single leaf seems impossible.
Changbin hold your hand again as you sit and count the fairy lights in Hyunjin's living room.
You don't know how, but your eyelids get heavy and you fall asleep on Changbin's shoulder.
His lips gently press into your hair amidst the chaos of the party, something so simple and gentle unfolds as his heart hammers inside his chest, spelling out,
"I love you."
❄️WINTER❄️
It's a yearly occurence, your families get together every Christmas and travel to a big house in the mountains to enjoy winter in all of it's glory; the snow high to your knees, the skiing resorts, the cable car where you can take in all the sights, the mountains massive, strong, soaring, touching the clouds and sky itself, they almost seem surreal to you.
Something like Changbin, who is always strong for you, a rock you can lean on, someone with a soul as big as his definitely touches the clouds and deserves to have the sky.
You almost feel like a little ant staring at the mountain, like you're nothing compared to it. Nothing compared to him.
Thoughts swirl in your mind, painting your soul black again, the dark void is now almost swallowing you whole, you're afraid you'll disappear inside it.
It grows even when your families are all together, wearing stupid christmas sweaters and exchanging gifts, it grows when you and Changbin go sledding, screaming and racing each other which ends up in a snow fight and him profusely apologizing because he hit your leg too hard with a snowball. It grows and grows, and you know you can't bend anymore, you're about to break. About to run out of fake smiles and I'm fine's, terrified of spring coming and nothing ever changing.
The vast snow covered hills and mountains that you stare at look like the void inside you feels, and that void looks back at you and mocks you, laughs at you.
"Hey, it's pretty late. Come inside, you'll get sick."- Changbin appears on the balcony and you jolt out of your thoughts and turn around to look at him.
He looks at you ever so softly, a beacon of light in the darkness of you.
"Where is everyone else?"- you ask, peeking into the living room behind him.
"They went to sleep. It's just you and me. Come on, we'll make some hot chocolate and gossip by the fire."- he wiggles his eyebrows and you can't help but laugh as you follow him inside.
Your eyes are trained on the fire, as Changbin's are on you, the reflections of it dancing on your face and illuminating every single spot, freckle, wrinkle that you have, everything he loves about you, everything he's already counted many times before wishing he could count them with his lips too, not just in his head.
"Is the chocolate good?"- he asks.
"Yeah, perfect."- you nod, but you want to scream. You want to tell him how scared you are of being unloveable and broken, scared of ending up alone, scared of never blossoming into a beautiful flower.
It's like he feels your thoughts and Changbin's heart swells, growing and expanding to fit everything that makes you you inside it, as the words spill from his lips;
"I love you."
Your head snaps towards him, the movement making you spill a few drops of chocolate on your sweatpants.
"W-what?"- you say, sure you've gone deaf in the middle of everything else.
"I love you. I can't keep it in anymore, I'm sorry. I've loved you always and I don't know living without loving you. I don't know who I am if I don't love you."
Your ears ring as you stare into his eyes, the crackling of the fire sounds like the crackling of your heart as it bursts in little fireworks and you feel like you've lifted up into the air, your body weightless like the little leaf, unbothered and carefree, and you cry.
You burst into tears as sobs escape your lips and Changbin's arms envelop around you, keeping you safe and pulling you back down to root yourself in the ground.
"Shh, it's okay. It's gonna be okay. I'm here."- he keeps whispering as he rocks you and you clutch onto him like he'll fade away from existence if you let go.
You want to tell him you're unworthy, that he's so much better than you and he deserves someone with an open heart, not you, the black hole that sucks everything in, you want to tell him you feel as empty as the white snow covered field, you want to tell him of your fear, your insufficiency and your doubt, residing in your soul that was tainted with darkness of other, befouled souls.
But you don't have to say anything, he knows you better than you think he does, and he holds you tightly, like you're the most precious thing to exist since the dawn of time until now.
But most importantly, you want to tell him that you love him too. And you can't. It eats at you as you cry harder but he understands. He always does.
His hands are smoothing down your back as he whispers over and over again;
"I love you."
🫀EPILOGUE🫀
It is a known fact that everything comes alive with the arrival of spring. The sun rises earlier in the morning, illuminating the trees and the flowers, uncovering new sights to be seen, ones that were blanketed by the darkness of the night before.
And with the arrival of this spring, you have come alive too. You're not just a little leaf anymore, nit just a drop of dew, you're the most lovely flower of them all, you're his flower. Like a butterfly you've emerged from your cocoon, more beautiful, more colorful, more mature and loved. Your sun rises in the shape of your wonderful boyfriend, the one who removed the blanket of darkness from your eyes, the one who helped you pick the pieces back up, helped you love yourself.
It's a journey, the hole is still there albeit considerably smaller and you sit and count the red flowers while Changbin feeds you sliced up apples, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as they observe you.
"Seventy six."- you exclaim suddenly, startling your lover from admiring you.
"Oh yeah? That was pretty fast."- he smirks jokingly at you.
"I'm kinda good at counting, actually I'm a professional at it."- you say matter-of-factly.
"I expect you to count all the kisses I give you today."- he giggles, pecking your cheek.
"Right, like you don't kiss me every second."- you roll your eyes playfully.
"Mhm, acting like you don't like it. Maybe I should just stop and make it easier for you to count when there's less of them."- he jokes and you laugh, the smile gracing your face reaches all the way up to your eyes.
"No, you should keep going. That way, I'll get even better at counting."
You continue joking around, like there's no care in the world, your book is next to your legs, the one you read over and over again. Maybe it doesn't have a happy ending, but now you know you don't need a happy ending in a book because yours is right next to you, being silly for the purpose of making you laugh.
The gaping hole inside you shrinks smaller and smaller and you don't feel like you're constantly on the edge of a cliff anymore. And even if you were, Changbin would be there to catch you.
You're lost in counting his eyelashes as he leans in closer to you and before your lips touch his, you whisper,
"I love you."
🫀
✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae
#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids#skz changbin#changbin x reader#changbin fluff#changbin scenarios#changbin imagines#seo changbin#skz fluff#changbin#skz imagines#skz scenarios#stray kids changbin#changbin x you#changbin soft thoughts#changbin soft hours
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Oh oh I have an AU I haven't had the chance to write anything for. It's pre-vampirism magistrate Astarion and criminal tav who is incredibly well-versed in law. They keep committing crimes and getting caught in purpose just to see Astarion who fucking hates their guts because he can't ever convict them of anything bc they find loopholes and somehow manage to evade the law. It's an "at each other's throats" kinda romance and they kiss with teeth between cases
darling, if you love me say it back
pairing . ⊱ astarion x tav wordcount . ⊱ 3,604 content warnings . ⊱ canon compliant temporary character death, tav isn't a human but can be whatever else you like, astarion isn't a vampire yet, tav is gender neutral other tags . ⊱ canon compliant, canon temporary character death, introspection, p.orn without plot, oral s/ex, desk s.ex, inappropriate use of a cravat, c.reampie archiveofourown . ⊱ here.
taglist . ⊱ @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia, @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene be added . ⊱ here .
summary . ⊱ The Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin has a soft spot for you. You like to exploit that fact.
‘I need to see you in my office,’ Astarion hisses — and the tips of his ears are so red you think they might catch flame. He grabs you by the elbow roughly and tugs. ‘Now.’
‘Let’s do it, baby,’ you say smugly. ‘I know the law.’
Knowing the law might be an overstatement. You have studied the law for only one purpose, and that purpose you know like the back of your hand. So when Astarion presses you, you don’t argue. You do as the magistrate says and allow yourself to be dragged across the court. He admonishes you like one would get onto a dog who misbehaves. You can’t help but laugh.
It isn’t like Astarion isn’t a super serious magistrate with a focus on criminal prosecution. He wants to nail you for your sins, for your crimes. The only catch is that no matter how amazing Astarion is at his job, you’re simply better. If you’ve stolen something, you’re more than capable of hiding the evidence. If you’ve murdered someone, you know all the best ways to hide a body. It comes naturally.
Astarion is wearing that ever familiar frown as he marches through the elegant halls. It’s a frown that says you’re in trouble and there’s nothing that I can do. But that isn’t necessarily true. Astarion will do anything you ask so long as you ask nicely, and you’ve been getting good at asking nicely lately. He prides himself in training you even if it isn’t that simple. He calls it rehabilitation. You call it sex.
‘You can’t keep doing this, you know,’ Astarion snaps at you. ‘At some point you must give it up!’
He isn’t good at whispering when he’s riled up. He runs his free hand through his curls in anger, pushing them away from his face like his bangs being wild make it hard to think. It makes him more attractive.
‘You don’t mean that,’ you say with a shrug.
‘I do,’ he says, ‘very much mean that.’
You grin. ‘You would miss me,’ you tell him lasciviously, and he groans. ‘I know you would.’
He huffs. ‘The only thing that I would miss is the peace after the headache you’ve given me. It’s as though you aren’t even aware of how vexing you are.’
You laugh, and the fine line of Astarion’s temper snaps. He all but throws you in his office and locks it behind him. He’s annoyed with the way you stagger dramatically to one of the velvet couches before his desk. You lean over the arm and kick your feet up.
‘Does the idea of cuffs around my wrists excite you?’
You look over your shoulder. Astarion clenches his jaw. It must hurt to frown as hard as he is. You pull yourself onto the cushions and sit demurely. You study him. His rigid lines, tense gaze. He comes and sits on the edge of his desk, pressing his forehead into his hands as if that will relieve him of his headache. You’re determined to make it worse.
‘I apologize,’ you say sweetly. ‘I’ll behave from now on.’
‘We both know that you are not capable of behaving,’ Astarion says thinly.
He shouldn’t have said that. You can’t help yourself, but most of the time, Astarion makes it so easy for you to dig into his weaknesses and exploit them. You stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.
‘You should teach me,’ you suggest.
Astarion’s patience snaps. ‘I beg your pardon? Have some decorum, please!’
‘Having decorum is so boring,’ you say, pouting. ‘Life is much more fun when you live freely.’
‘And committing crimes is your definition of living freely?’
‘What is the point of living if not to live?’ you ask. ‘Why confine myself to rules of good or bad when I can choose what makes me happy.’
‘What exactly makes a criminal like you happy?’ Astarion asks bitterly.
You’ve always been possessed by a sense of otherness. You rise from the couch and carefully twist your fingers in his cravat, tangling yourself in him as he has become entangled in you. The Silverymoon lace tickles your skin. You pull Astarion closer and he begrudgingly caves to your strength. Your lips barely brush against his and already you can sense it. The barely contained restraint. The hunger. Astarion longs for you. He’s carefully hidden it beneath the scent of bergamot.
Slowly, you slide him free of what pressures him most. The cravat slides from his neck easily. It excites Astarion. His eyes glitter like you’ve never seen before. Being a magistrate isn’t about caring about the laws he’s vowed to uphold. It’s about power. You give it to him. You hold your wrists together with a wicked grin.
You balance the fabric on your fingers. Astarion swallows. Being proper isn’t really his thing. It’s thrilling to watch as he changes his mind. You annoy him — he detests you, wishes you gone. You are the object of all his improper late night dreams.
But as if he’s moving through water, he takes his cravat from your hands. You almost think it’s going to be a rejection. Astarion bundles your wrists together with an expertise that suggests he’s done it before. The binding becomes tight but not too tight and you relish in the way it twists your wrists. He fastens the knot into a pretty bow.
And then he kisses you. He grabs you so roughly by the back of the neck that your teeth slam together, but Astarion sighs so prettily against your mouth you decide you could withstand anything.
It’s a passionate kiss made up of teeth and spit and tongue. Astarion is both pushing you and pulling you. He can’t make up his mind. Does he want you and the stain you’ll bring to his reputation? A magistrate with a weakness for a criminal is such an interesting dynamic, but Astarion is a proud man. You are almost certain he would throw you into harm’s way if a situation ever occurred that deemed it necessary. You would do the same given the chance. This is simply a tryst.
You like to pretend it is, at least. You hate coming across as a romantic. You chase a freedom so exquisite no one will ever understand it, but when Astarion pushes you towards the couch, you don’t complain. You fall across the cushions with ease and catch him as he falls between your thighs.
‘You,’ Astarion accuses hotly, ‘are an irrevocable annoyance I may never be cured of.’
‘You are so very frank in all the ways you despise me,’ you say, moaning softly as he kisses your neck. ‘I think you’re capable of being freed after all.’
‘I am glad to see you are finally aware that it is hate that drives me,’ Astarion murmurs thickly. ‘It repulses me that you think you could possibly be endearing.’
You laugh and Astarion sucks a bruise into your collarbone. He’ll pretend to be aloof and noncommittal to your very presence, but he’s invested. You can feel the weight of his pleasure against your thighs even as he denies his feelings for you. Astarion doesn’t bother with your shirt or his own. He clings to your waist as he finds the lace of your breeches and tugs you free.
Astarion pushes his hand inside of your smallclothes and touches your flushed skin, spreading his fingers so that he can touch every inch your body has to offer. The fervor of the motion is what causes you to gasp. He’s a man on a mission, and he touches you at your core so adoringly it makes the bite of his words all but disappear. He fondles you like he’s never touched your skin before. Your gasp turns to a sultry whine, and he bites your neck like a punishment. You almost think he’s going to admonish you, that he’ll say your silence is worth more. He doesn’t. If anything, the echo of your voice spurns him to go further.
Astarion presses two fingers inside of you and the laughter dies in your chest. He’s trying to rearrange you through a perverse method. If he fucks you good enough, crime’s appeal will turn to dust within your mind. It makes you wonder what it would be like to dote on a magistrate. Would it be enough? Could it be enough? Sinning feels just as sweet.
He curls his fingers against your core and your back arches prettily off the velvet cushions. You bite your bottom lip and try to quell the pining, but then you catch a glimpse of him from beneath your eyelashes. Astarion is watching your every move. His lips are parted. His pupils are dilated. His cheeks have colored at the sound of your voice. He is torn between watching your face for your reactions and glancing down at his hand underneath your breeches. You meet his gaze bravely, chin lifting, and smile.
He adds another just to watch you struggle. The angle, the curve of his wrist, and the situation are enough to make your thighs squeeze together, but Astarion doesn’t let you. He roughly throws himself between your legs so that you can’t, and it’s hot, too hot that you cry weakly. He grins at the sound like he always does, like he always will. It’s his victory this evening.
But as quickly as Astarion deigned to touch you, he releases you. He stands up and drags you by the wrists, turning his cheek the other way when you try to taste his skin.
‘The prosecutor is ineffectual — ’
You snort without meaning to, and Astarion digs his fingers into the swell of your hip. You allow him to maneuver you, bending at the waist while he presses you forward, chest against the chilled wood of his desk. You have to rise on your toes to stand comfortably.
‘Is that what you’re thinking about?’ you ask breathlessly.
‘I’m thinking about the necessary reform,’ Astarion snaps.
You press your cheek into the wood and stare at his door. The prosecutor, the defense. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Astarion is the only one who cares. You’re somewhat glad he does. It means he’s taken your case to interest, and when he presses himself to your lower back, you’re excited. He shoves your breeches to your ankles.
‘Are you going to take me here?’ you murmur. ‘On your desk. Where is your propriety?’
‘You dare speak to me of decency?’ Astarion snorts.
‘The weight of my sins will be forever embedded on your desk,’ you say. ‘You flatter me, your honor.’
‘Do you ever stop talking?’ Astarion asks. You can hear his patience snapping.
‘Well, you’re just so boring,’ you say, laughing. ‘Why don’t you do something that — ’
Astarion kneels down behind you and shoves his way between your legs. You shiver when he presses his lips against your core. He mouths at you hungrily. He grunts low in the back of his throat and digs his nails into your thighs. It steals your breath away. He’s so determined to change the very essence of your being that his tongue and mouth searching where his fingers first were makes you go weak in the knees. You whine.
You press your fingers into the dark, rich mahogany of his desk and try to keep focus. You want to taunt him. You want to tease him, but that wanton desire is almost forgotten entirely by the way Astarion feasts upon your flesh. He parts you with his thumbs and groans against your skin and you almost forget who you are. This is what he wanted. He wanted to pull your desires from you and replace them with his own.
You let him. He works you up as easily as anyone can be worked up, his fingers and his mouth exploring every inch of your skin that’s exposed. He goes to slide a finger in curiously, but you twist your hips away. Astarion is all work and no play. He will tease you relentlessly as it suits him, and he will do what interests him. You interest him more than he’s willing to confess. That’s why he works so hard for your pleasure.
When he’s done with you, he kisses the base of your spine soothingly. Your legs tremble beneath you. Astarion smooths his hand across your hip. You glance at him.
‘Perhaps I can fuck some sense into you now,’ Astarion mumbles.
He has the audacity to sound inquisitive. It’s not like it’s possible, but he seems determined enough to try it out regardless of his intuition. His hands are warm against your skin, and the excitement only builds in the pit of your stomach as you feel Astarion’s skin touch yours. You hear his clothes rustle and his breath catch in his throat. You hide a smile against your arm.
When Astarion slides into your core, it’s like a possession. The breath steals from your lungs. His touch is a familiar constant — you would recognize him anywhere by scent alone. You cry weakly. Your toes crunch from the angle, but there’s nothing you want more at this moment than to learn to be good.
Astarion hums behind you as well, his fingers digging into your hips as he tries to steady himself. The desk crunches uncomfortably against your belly but it’s a welcome pain. It keeps you focused. You still have the energy to wiggle back against him as his cock slowly pushes in until there is no more room left to explore.
‘Be good,’ he whispers, ‘and I will give you what you deserve.’
What do you deserve exactly?
It’s hard to say. You enjoy your life of crime almost as much as you love the way Astarion bends you over his desk. You’re good at stealing, you’re good at killing, but you’re good at being soft and pliant as well, giving in to that sentimentality that keeps you coming back from more.
At first it was an elaborate game. What could you do to ensure that Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin looked your way? He was a noble elf, and your hands were covered in fresh dough from the baker you stole from. There was a curious glint in his eyes when he looked over you, yet somehow the gods had deemed the yeast and honey on your fingers was not honest enough to be proof.
You are smitten. You bounce taller on your toes with every aggressive thrust, arms struggling to support your weight. Astarion fists his fingers into your hair and pulls until your throat is exposed. He wants you to sing for him, so you do. You arch your back and moan loudly. The sounds of it bounce around his little office.
‘You wouldn’t shut up before,’ Astarion says breathlessly, a hoarse laugh.
‘Do something — worth talking about — ’
Astarions laughs incredulously, but he does fuck you harder for it. He releases your hair without much flourish and focuses on dragging your hips back onto his cock, punching forward so hard you see stars. It’s wonderful, it’s powerful. If Astarion’s entire goal was to make you forsake the world, he’s done a good job of turning your life around. The cravat rubs against your wrists as you try to seek purchase on the desk. Your fingers drag across the polished wood, and you shudder as you clench down around his cock.
You sound so breathless and silly, groaning while he fucks you against his desk. He fills you full until you’re certain you can take no more. You press a hot cheek against the wood and try to catch your breath. You hook a foot around his ankle for support, twisting on his desk. You tuck your arms beneath your chest. You feel as though you’re coming undone. All your years of villainy, and it comes undone by the consistency of Astarion’s presence.
Your arms are stiff from constantly being up, but you’re almost grateful when Astarion pauses. He helps you turn on top of his desk so you’re on your back instead, and even though the edge digs into your lower back, you prefer that to anything else.
You meet Astarion’s gaze. He tells you he hates you, that he wishes you were out of his hair, that he despises you, but the gentleness of his eyes tells you otherwise. He slides back into you with a small moan, and you wrap your legs around his hips to guide him in further.
‘It’s good,’ you gasp. ‘It’s good, you’re good — ’
Astarion doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. You can see it clear as day in his eyes. Astarion won’t say he loves you, that in his ardent fervor he seeks you out, but he knows that you know. Why else would fate lead you back together? You reach for his face with your hands, and his eyes flutter closed to avoid the wistfulness. He leans into your touch.
You cry softly as Astarion begins to grind into you again. He helps carry you as he does so. And it feels so good, feels so overwhelming that you briefly consider the fact that he has changed you for the better.
A spirit that slides into your very marrow. Astarion is hauntingly beautiful, and if he is a spider then you are a fly tangled in his web. He calls you a pretty thing and you give into the struggle. You press your wrists against your forehead and strain against his cock, unable to hide from the waves of crashing pleasure.
Astarion finishes inside of you with a low moan. He presses a rough hand against your belly to stabilize himself, and shyly, you touch his wrist with your bound hands just to feel his pulse. As soon as he’s caught his breath, he releases you from your bonds.
You almost miss him when he pulls away from you. He uses one of his hanging cassocks to clean himself with and is kind enough to do the same for you. You’re almost certain that your legs won’t work, so you sit up on his desk to rest and damn his paperwork to the hells. You kick off your breeches from around your ankles and sit, legs crossed, while Astarion tries to fix his reflection in the mirror.
‘You are truly an astute teacher,’ you say casually. ‘The art of lockpicking is all but gone from my mind. Thank you, your honor.’
Astarion snorts and shakes his head, torn between ignoring you and giving into your wiles. He curls his hair back into place and then walks back to you, leaning forward until you’re nose to nose.
You think he won’t kiss you, but then he does. His lips taste like summer oranges and you taste him until it’s the only thing you can think of. He hugs you tenderly. It isn’t the same as when he admonishes you. It makes your chest feel warm. You almost feel weaker for it. Your bite is being taken away.
‘I can’t keep protecting you,’ Astarion says softly against your cheek. ‘You torment me day and night. When I lie down in my sheets, I find myself consumed with worry.’
‘You think about me?’ you tease. ‘In your sprawling manse?’
‘Move in with me,’ he murmurs. ‘Then you can be inferior yet vain inside my sprawling manse.’
Astarion is not there that evening. You try to wait as long as you can without seeming suspicious. There are maids, family members, and their admirers who come inside and out throughout the evening — but not Astarion, never Astarion. You wait until the sun sets and fireflies light up the streets of the Upper City but eventually, the malaise of abandonment guides your feet away. You walk the streets aimlessly until a shiver runs down your spine. A chill so violent turns you away from the courthouse.
But in the morning, there’s a fuss. It draws you back into where you left and you can’t help but to lose yourself. Astarion is dead. His mother sobs. The members of the city watch who bear the bad news look equally as morose. Astarin’s father nearly falls to his knees in despair.
When you break into their manse that evening, you look for one thing. You steal a cravat from his wardrobe and tie it around your neck.
Then, you leave Baldur’s Gate.
You aren’t sure where your feet are going to take you.
Part of your yearns for the Underdark. Baldur’s Gate is a cursed city, you decide. You wander back to it after two hundred years of avoiding it like the plague, and not an hour within the city are you spirited away on an adventure you never longed for.
You have changed. You can’t really remember who you were all those years ago, or the hopefulness you might have felt in your chest once. You’re different now. A folk hero. You used to steal from the rich and give to the poor before the mindflayers fed you their parasite and stole that part of you. But you aren’t alone this time. You wander the beach for hours searching for anything that can be of use and pause over a love letter that makes you sob.
It isn’t all bad. You meet a half-elf who scowls as much as she mumbles to herself.
On the other side of the beach, you meet a ghost.
His eyes are different from what you remember. The warmth he once looked upon you with is gone and replaced by unfamiliar sanguine.
#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion x oc#astarion smut#bg3 smut#from ,carcosa .#my fic#hyliandreso#you know i hit the prompt square on & then threw in a plot twist#is it really a carcosa fic if there isn't a plot twist somewhere#* say what you want,even if it's bad
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Sebastian and Ominis Headcanons
Sebastian
✧ Adores chocolate to the point it’s almost comical. His absolute favourite is Honeydukes Best Chocolate (which in my mind tastes like a Hotel Chocolat’s milk chocolate with just a hint of caramel and vanilla), but he’s happy with any chocolate except really dark chocolate. Anything above 80% and he’ll turn his nose up at it. Left to his own devices with free reign at night in Honeydukes, you’d find him in the morning in a sugar coma with his tummy almost bursting his shirt buttons, his face covered in chocolate stains and looking about as happy as it’s possible to look.
✧ He’s got rotten hay fever and may occasionally make use of the bubblehead charm when the pollen count’s high. He doesn’t care if people laugh and is happy to explain why – this led to a lot of students capable of using the charm imitating him if they have hay fever.
✧ Loves cats but adores dogs, particularly if they’re big and dopey, like Labradors or Great Danes. He’s not particularly fond of small, yappy dogs like Jack Russells, which is the complete opposite of his twin.
✧ He’s got an immune system like a tank and will shake off most colds and tummy bugs with relative ease, but when he gets poorly, he gets really poorly. Even so, he’ll try and pretend that nothing’s wrong, even when he’s white as a sheet and sweating, barely able to stand. Ominis has had to knock him out and levitate him to the Hospital Wing on more than one occasion to get him to accept help.
✧ On that note, he absolutely refuses any kind of help unless it’s on behalf of someone else. He’s happy to accept help when he’s searching for a cure for Anne, but if he’s struggling with an essay, confused about his feelings for someone, or just needs to process something, he won’t ask for help, and tries to play it off as him just having an off day.
✧ Sebastian thinks fart jokes are hilarious. The whoopee cushion was invented in the 1930s, and Sebastian was a menace with the damn thing. Think Leslie Neilsen bringing a fart machine to interviews.
✧ Sebastian is a proper summer baby and loves being outside in the sunshine. He loves the excuse to splash about in streams or go swimming, and has tried to teach Ominis how to swim. Sadly, Ominis isn’t keen on the idea as he can’t tell where anything is in the water.
✧ Sebastian’s temper is like a firecracker; quick to spark, quick to explode, and just as quick to go out. He doesn’t forgive easily, especially if the person who’s annoyed him has deliberately tried to hurt him or someone he loves, but he doesn’t tend to hold grudges. Unless it's serious, if he can’t get revenge in a week or two, he tends to move on from the idea though that doesn’t mean he won’t hate the person for a time.
✧ Sebastian’s opinions of people always start out neutral, and they can be swayed positively or negatively through a variety of factors. Lots of little positive things can be overshadowed by one huge negative, but it takes a lot more effort to change his negative opinion to a positive one.
✧ He eats anything and everything. He’s got a big appetite and tends to consume food at a rate that would shame a graphorn. If he didn’t have so much nervous energy, he’d probably end up a little porky.
✧ His boggart would be Anne’s corpse. If Anne is cured, or he has to spend any time in Azkaban, this changes to a dementor.
✧ His animagus form and patronus would be a fox without a doubt – his colouring would be browner than most foxes and mottled with darker ‘freckles’ all down his back and tail. His favourite part about being an animagus is having a tail.
Ominis
✧ Doesn’t like sweets, and particularly loathes chocolate, much to Sebastian’s horror. This is due to his upbringing and a particular trauma around his parents trying to cure his blindness then forcing him to eat chocolate as a ‘reward,’ no matter how much he didn’t want to, and he was shouted at until he ate it. Consuming something chocolatey will bring back those memories, so he avoids it where possible.
✧ He absolutely adores tiny summer strawberries though, and he will actively seek them out. They’re very hard for him to find by himself and he usually gets a bit down if he can’t find any, so if you go foraging and present him with a punnet, there’s a pretty strong chance he’ll fall in love with you.
✧ Has no allergies, but gets poorly relatively easily. If there’s a cold going about Hogwarts, you can bet that Ominis will catch it if he’s not patient zero. He’s like an illness magnet in that way. Similarly to Sebastian, he won’t complain about it unless he’s in a romantic relationship, then all he’ll do is whine because he knows his partner will make a big fuss of him and look after him the way his family never did. He’s a sucker for being pampered.
✧ Ominis has a bit of a sensitive tummy, and he tends to stick to foods he knows are safe. He’s happy to try new foods, but he prefers to try them in very small amounts to minimise the risk of upsetting his stomach.
✧ Ominis gets hilariously embarrassed around toilet humour, and for the most part pretends that people don’t go to the bathroom. If it comes up in conversation, he either won’t engage and pretend it’s not happening, or he’ll change the subject at the first opportunity.
✧ He’s a cat magnet, and even the most aloof or grumpy cats will be happy to curl up in his lap. They love finding Ominis during one of his naps, and unless he’s in his dorm or the Undercroft, he’ll wake up in a puddle of cats. He finds them very comforting.
✧ He adores snakes and longs to have one as a pet, but after an incident when he was seven involving a snake he made friends with that he called Daisy, and his brother Marvolo, he’s absolutely terrified of making friends with another one, just in case Marvolo does what he did again (Considering doing a very angsty and painful short fic of this idea, but it’s pretty unpleasant so I’m in two minds).
✧ Hates being cold, but suffers terribly in the heat. UK summers are horribly humid, and he can’t stand it. A dryer summer heat like the South of France is the only kind he can tolerate, and he’s grateful the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons, so at least he can still sleep in the summer. Otherwise, he will complain constantly about how hot it is.
✧ Ominis is a filthy gossip. Any kind of rumour and he’ll hear about it and spread it with relish, especially if it’s about someone that’s wronged him in the past. Even without this, he loves to gossip about absolutely anything, and those that know will often seek him out to ask if rumours are true. He wields this small power with satisfaction, especially as it means he’s able to field any rumours about his friends and turn attention to other things going about the castle.
✧ Ominis has a long memory and a fertile imagination. Though his patience for shenanigans is short, it’s unending when it comes to plotting revenge. If you wrong the Prince of Snakes, you better be on your guard for the rest of your life. He will not forget, and the punishment will always fit the crime. Unless of course he hates the person in question or is protecting his loved ones, then you can expect Ominis to go scorched earth in order to get revenge.
✧ Ominis’ boggart doesn’t have a physical form, but it takes on the sound of hissing snakes. To the casual observer, they’d think he was frightened of snakes, and Ominis is perfectly happy to let people think that. In actuality, it’s his family speaking to him in Parseltongue, reminding him of his worst experiences of home and threatening to take him away from his friends, forcing him to live with them and bow to their ways.
✧ Ominis has a healthy dose of fear of his parents, but he’s absolutely terrified of Marvolo. Marvolo bullied him relentlessly when they were young, and once Noctua went missing, it only got worse, and their parents never discouraged it, claiming it would help Ominis build character. Marvolo is the person Ominis nightmares about the most.
✧ Ominis’ patronus and animagus form is a serpent, but contrary to typical animagi/patronuses, which tend to mimic each other, Ominis’ patronus is an enormous snake, similar to an anaconda, while his animagus form is more similar to a ball python, pale gold in colour with darker scales that mimic his beauty marks.
Masterlist
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#hogwarts legacy headcanons#sebastian sallow headcanons#ominis gaunt headcanons
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Lost Friend
(Y/H) means your Hogwarts house
The Scriptorium had left its mark. The three of them Sebastian, Ominis, and you emerged from the oppressive, dark chamber with the air between you heavy with tension. You had followed the boys into the heart of Salazar Slytherin’s secret domain, unease bubbling within you the entire time.
Sebastian had been relentless in his pursuit of forbidden knowledge, desperate to find a cure for Anne’s curse. Ominis had been quiet but firm in his disapproval of Sebastian’s methods, while you had walked a delicate line between support and caution, your loyalty to your friends pulling you in conflicting directions.
Now, in the cool, moonlit corridors of the dungeons, the silence among you spoke louder than any words could.
“I still don’t see why you’re so upset, Ominis,” Sebastian snapped as they stopped near the entrance to the Slytherin common room. His tone was defensive, but his eyes burned with the same fiery determination that had driven him into the Scriptorium in the first place. “The magic we found down there it could be the key to curing Anne.”
Ominis crossed his arms, his expression hard to read. “You don’t see it, do you? That place is cursed, Sebastian. The kind of magic you’re playing with… it’s dangerous.” He gestured toward you. “Even they can see it, and they’ve stood by you through everything.”
You hesitated, your (y/h) scarf shifting as you looked down. “I just-” you began, your voice soft. “I want to help Anne too, Sebastian. But Ominis is right. Some magic isn’t meant to be used.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. He looked between you and Ominis, hurt and anger battling for dominance in his expression. “Fine. You both made your point. Loud and clear.” Without another word, he stormed off toward the common room.
Ominis sighed heavily, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have gone with us. Sebastian won’t stop until he gets what he wants, and you’ll only get caught in the crossfire.”
You frowned, your hands clenching into fists. “He’s my friend, Ominis. So are you. I can’t just stand by and watch this tear you both apart.”
Ominis tilted his head toward you, his pale eyes unseeing but his voice steady. “Then be careful. You’re more important to this mess than you realize.”
The next morning, you were gone.
Sebastian noticed first, looking for you in the Great Hall at breakfast. When you didn’t appear, he assumed you were avoiding him after the argument. Ominis said nothing, though a flicker of concern crossed his face.
By midday, when you weren’t at your usual spot in the library, even Sebastian began to worry. “They wouldn’t just leave without saying anything,” he muttered as he paced in the Undercroft, his frustration mounting. “Would they?”
Ominis leaned against the wall, his expression grim. “After last night? Maybe they needed some space. You weren’t exactly subtle in how you dismissed them.”
Sebastian rounded on him. “You think this is my fault? You were the one telling them they shouldn’t have come with us in the first place!”
“Stop deflecting, Sebastian,” Ominis said sharply. “The real question is, where are they now?”
Hours passed, and the sun began to set. By then, it was clear something was wrong. You weren’t in your dormitory or any of your usual haunts. Your absence gnawed at Sebastian, guilt mixing with a gnawing sense of dread.
“They wouldn’t just leave the castle,” Sebastian said for what felt like the hundredth time. “Not without telling someone.”
Ominis frowned, his unease growing. “Unless they didn’t leave of their own free will.”
Sebastian froze, his mind racing. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Ominis replied, his voice low, “that they might be in trouble.”
Sebastian didn’t need to be told twice. The two of them set off together, determined to find you. What they didn’t know was that you had left the castle on a mission tied to the ancient magic you wielded. But someone had been watching you, waiting for the right moment to strike.
————————————————————————
Now, in a cold, dark place far from Hogwarts, you struggled against the bindings that held you. You could feel the weight of your wand missing from your side, your captors’ laughter echoing around you.
You weren’t sure how long you had been there or if anyone even knew you were gone. But you held on to one thought: Sebastian and Ominis wouldn’t give up on you.
And you wouldn’t give up on yourself.
I hope you liked this it’s my first time writing something and please ignore any spelling errors because English isn’t my first language.
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts legacy ominis#hogwarts legacy sebastian#Sebstian Sallow x Reader#Ominis Gaunt x Reader
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Can I get a tarte au pomme for max? 🫣
🐴 anon
here is an excerpt of preacher’s daughter
Mary-Ann sat up suddenly, brushing her tears away roughly. “Don’t. Don’t act like you can fix this or make it better. You don’t understand!”
“Of course we do,” Max said, stepping closer, but she cut him off.
“No, you don’t! You two have had it easy! You fell in love, you built this perfect life, and now you live in your perfect house with your perfect family! I wish I could just fall in love like you two did, but I can’t even keep a stupid boyfriend!”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and full of pain.
Her mum reached for her, but stopped just short of touching her hand. “Mary-Ann,” she said quietly, her voice steady, “it wasn’t easy for us. Not at all.”
Mary-Ann frowned, her tear-filled eyes darting between them. “What do you mean?”
Max sat down in the chair by the desk, his arms resting on his knees. “It wasn’t some fairy tale, angel,” he said. “When your mum came to me, it wasn’t because we were madly in love or anything like that.”
Mary-Ann blinked. “What?”
Her mum hesitated, looking at Max for a moment before turning back to their daughter. “I didn’t know your dad all that well when I went to him. I… I needed help. I didn’t feel safe at home. My dad… he wasn’t a good man. He hurt me.” Her voice trembled slightly, but she pressed on. “I left with nothing but the clothes on my back. Your dad… he was kind to me when no one else was. He gave me a place to stay. He made me feel like I mattered.”
Mary-Ann stared at her, stunned. “You never told me that,” she whispered.
Her mum gave her a sad smile. “We didn’t want to put that weight on you. But love… love isn’t always easy. It’s messy. It takes work. And sometimes, it starts in the unlikeliest of places.”
Max leaned forward. “Your mum and I, we’ve fought for this life, Mary-Ann. It wasn’t handed to us. And when things got hard, we didn’t walk away. We worked through it.” He said softly as he stood up suddenly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. His jaw set in a way Mary-Ann recognised too well.
“Boys!” Max shouted, his voice echoing down the hall.
“What are you doing?” his wife asked, watching him warily as he stuck his head out the door.
Moments later, their sons appeared - Theo and Daniel, both blinking in confusion.
“Danny-boy,” Max said, leaning close and whispering something into his ear. The boy’s eyes widened, and he nodded before dashing off towards the shed.
“Max,” his wife said, her voice sharp now. “Where are you going?”
Max turned to her, shrugging on his jacket. “I’m paying someone a visit. Begins with an ‘E,’ ends with a ‘than.’”
Her eyes widened. “Max, no!”
“Max, yes,” he shot back, already halfway out the door.
Mary-Ann, who had been quiet until now, let out an unexpected laugh, her tears momentarily forgotten.
Her mum threw her hands up in exasperation. “Trouble. The lot of them.”
And though her tone was scolding, the soft smile tugging at her lips betrayed her affection as Mary-Ann curled into her side, still laughing.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv1 one shot#mv1 x you#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1#mv33#preachers daughter
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Blackmail - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC
🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI
scene is f!mc during the shadow of friendship quest where she needs to talk Ominis out of telling on Sebastian to be committed to Azkaban BUT instead of the soft reaction we get in-game what if Ominis has actually harbored deep desires for the mc until now and since he's aware that she has feelings for Sebastian instead, uses this opportunity to "blackmail" the mc into convincing him to not put Sebastian away. so really a non-con scene of dark!ominis x f!mc if you will requested by @moongurl95 via dms
Genuinely so sorry this took me like three weeks but my life is in shambles literally setting this up to post while sheltering from a tornado 💀 but don’t worry I’m fine. Anyway I hope this is what you’re looking for 🫶🏻
Warnings: blackmail, threats, dirty talk, non-con, Dominis, stolen virginity, unprotected sex, creampie
2.4k words
She stood beside Sebastian who paced the stone floor beside his blonde companion. The air in the undercroft hung heavier than ever around them. Ominis was being brutally honest, telling Sebastian that his twin, Anne, couldn’t bear the thought of turning him in. Sebastian was a bit shocked, pacing back and forth while trying to defend himself before Ominis finally gave a sigh, saying he’d give Sebastian some time to think.
As he walked away Sebastian resumed his nervous pacing and she approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t believe he’s gone. How did things go so wrong? I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to-“ He shook his head in dismay. “Oh Anne. I was only trying to help. I can’t leave now. Anne needs me more than ever.”
She nodded, her head felt full of confusion and worry but she’d grown to care for Sebastian and couldn’t imagine that he’d truly wanted to hurt anyone. She knew the lengths he was willing to go for Anne. That kind of love and devotion spoke to her. “Don't worry Sebastian. I shall speak with Ominis.”
Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You’re a real friend, truly. No matter what happens from here, I’m glad we met.” With that he turned and walked to the exit of the Undercroft. She waited till the doors chimed and she heard him exit before she turned with a sigh toward Ominis.
She could practically sense the dark cloud looming over the other side of the undercroft and a sort of unease rolled over her. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. Ominis had sensed her approach and decided to tell her what had happened after they’d spoken last. He’d run back to Hogwarts and before he’d been able to speak to the headmaster Anne had contacted him. He’d rushed to Feldcroft and found Anne with Solomon’s body. How deeply stricken with grief she was. “I don’t want to lose Sebastian but I don’t think we have a choice.”
She chewed her bottom lip with a worried expression. “Ominis…we do have a choice. What good would it do now to turn him in? He clearly regrets everything. He’s not going to do anything like this again.”
Ominis’ eyes darkened. “What makes you so sure? You’ve said that about nearly everything else thus far? You said letting him into the scriptorium wasn’t going to end badly yet he casted Crucio on you without a moment's hesitation. You promised the relic wouldn't cause harm yet he was ready to throw our entire friendship away just to take it with him.”
She looked down. He was right. Everything he’d said had been true. Yet she had grown fond of Sebastian both as a friend and maybe more over the span of their year. “Ominis I know how this seems but Sebastian isn’t like this. He made a mistake…it was for Anne’s life.”
Ominis’ tone turned angry, the same scowl that first day she’d come from the Undercroft painted his features as he took a step toward her. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger…he used you…and you don’t even seem to care?! You’d rather blindly ignore the damage he’d caused to make him the hero in your book because you’ve begun to harbor feelings for him haven’t you?”
She was about to deny it but what was the point? Ominis had so clearly seen through everything and while she hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. “I…suppose I have. I just want the best for him and Anne…it makes no sense to send him away now when Anne will be needing her brother the most.”
Ominis’ scowl darkened. “I see. So are you willing to accept the punishment for his actions? You’re an accomplice to murder if you choose to continue down this path. If he continues on the way he is I will not hesitate to turn you both in for these crimes.”
She blinked, honestly shocked about what he’d said. But she truly believed that Sebastian was good deep down. He just let this get away from him. “Yes. I understand. I promise. He won’t cause anymore trouble. Just don’t take him from Anne.”
He agreed begrudgingly, taking another step forward. She backed up a step, bumping into a stack of crates with a gasp. His voice came out dark and low. “So you are the kind of girl who falls for the villain then?”
Her eyes widened in surprise as her head whipped back around, his tone dark and a bit husky. His palm came up to rest on the crate right beside her face, his body pushing closer. “What are you willing to give up to ensure I don’t turn you and Sebastian in? What price would you pay for a life that’s already been stained in blood?”
The knot in her throat solidified and it felt like she had mouthfuls of sawdust she had to swallow in order to form words. “Ominis, w-what are you talking about…we don’t have to give up anything…we just don’t tell anyone…”
Ominis chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “I’m well aware darling. I asked what you were willing to give up in order to keep me quiet. This deal has nothing in it for me. You and Sebastian get away with murder and I’m stuck holding the truth for nothing while you both run off and fall in love. Hardly fair if you ask me.”
Her eyes widened and she suddenly understood what was happening. She moved to run but his hand, much stronger than she’d imagined, came up to hold her wrist, wrenching and pinning it above her head, shortly joined by her other. “Now now, no running away from your problems anymore. You need to come up with a solution I’ll accept or you won’t be leaving here. You better get thinking before I decide for you.”
Her mind reeled over what she could offer him. What did he want? She thought and thought but nothing came to mind. He grinned darkly. “My choice then. I can work with that.”
He moved quickly, spinning her and bending her over a crate. She gasped, surprised by the suddenness as the wood bit into her hip bones. His surprisingly strong body pinned her down with ease, one hand holding her wrists above her head while the other worked at pulling up her school skirts. “Tell me darling, are you currently taking contraceptive potions?”
Her heart pounded in her chest. Her body had the choice of fight or flight and for some bloody reason it had chosen to freeze. “I-I no…why would I-?”
He’d laughed, cutting her off while pulling her underwear to the side. “Well you better start my dear. Because if you manage to conceive I’ll ruin your pathetic life. As a Gaunt I refuse to carry forward the bloodline.”
She listened to the sound of his belt being undone and blood whooshed in her ears. She knew the time to speak up was now but she was still at a loss for words. She couldn’t very well deny him after he’d made the threat to turn her and Sebastian in. She had to stay quiet and take it, if not for herself and Sebastian’s innocence than for Anne still having a relative to care for her.
She pressed her face to the crate, tears welling in her eyes. “O-okay. I-I won’t let that happen.” She listened to him as he hummed in satisfaction and she listened to the shuffle of his pants as he pushed them down. She felt the blunt tip of him at her opening and she sniffled, stiffening up with nerves wound tight.
Ominis huffed, trying to push forward but her tense body wouldn’t allow his entrance. “For Merlin’s sake you need to relax. Just imagine it’s Sebastian like always and it’ll be over before you know it.”
She sniffled again as he released her hands and they immediately went to the edge of the crate, gripping so tightly her knuckles turned white. “S-Sebastian has never…I’ve never…”
His eyes widened in recognition and he pulled back, voice coming a bit softer this time. “You’ve never…not once?”
She nodded and his hand came to swipe away the tears, his other hand coming to slide her hair behind her ear. “It feels good after the initial bit you know…if you could survive the pain of Crucio you can make it through this and it’ll start to feel good. You don’t even have to imagine it’s me...”
She sniffled and nodded carefully, he brushed her cheek and his other hand dipped between them to rub the blunt tip up and down between her slit. The sensations were all new but the feel of him stimulating that bundle of nerves between her legs had small spikes of pleasure shooting up through her. She hated it.
She tried to fight it, her body may be wanting this but he was good at pushing the right buttons. She didn’t want Ominis. She was still stuck, she had to do this for Anne and Sebastian to be a family. She sucked in a shaky breath that turned into a whimper as he slid over her clit again.
His warm breath ghosted over her neck. His chest, which was pressed against her back, rumbled. “That’s right dear. Relax and let your body take over. Turn that brilliant brain off for a bit and put yourself somewhere happy. It’ll be over soon.”
He notched himself at her entrance and she let another few tears slip, rolling down her cheeks. She tried to imagine that this was Sebastian above her, that it was after the ball and he’d asked her to go somewhere private. Just then, slim fingers slid between her folds and rubbed small circles around that bundle of nerves.
She moaned out softly and his hips slid forward, his tip kissing that barrier within her that she knew would end this pleasure. She pushed the thought away, trying to imagine those fingers a bit thicker and rougher against her body. She tried to imagine what breathy sounds he’d make or what encouragement he’d whisper against her skin.
A moan from between her lips and Ominis’ body sank forward, pushing past that barrier and sending spikes of discomfort through her body. But as quickly as the discomfort started his fingers redoubled with the pleasurable circles and she was arching into it and whimpering in pleasure. His breath came gently across the back of her neck as he slid her hair out of the way. “That’s right Darling, just like that.”
She moaned low as he praised her, his hips slowly moving back and forth inside of her but he focused most of his intentions on her clit. She was at the very least thankful he didn’t want her to be in pain.
She tried to force herself to think about Sebastian again but the way Ominis’ breathing picked up and his slender body slid against hers as he began to thrust deeper dragged her out of the daydream. She hated how her body reacted, her stomach flipping and swirling and tightening as she listened to the small puffs of air and panting that left his lips.
The pinching discomfort between her legs slowly morphed into hot pleasure that rippled through her in waves. She gripped the crate tighter and his thrusts grew longer and deeper. “Great Merlin you’re so fucking tight, I’ve never had a witch who was a sweet little virgin. I don’t think I can go back after this. Or if this is all just you we may have to convince Sebastian to share your brilliant little body.”
His words sent shocks of pleasure through her and she moaned, pushing her hips back. This felt so good, she struggled to maintain her fantasy of Sebastian ravaging her when Ominis was the one here making her feel so incredible. Pleasure swirled deep in her stomach and she tightened, forcing him to groan behind her. “You better be careful squeezing around me like that. Might just get the idea you actually like this with me or something.”
She whimpered, unable to hold another ripple of pleasure from surging through her. His fingers moved faster, making her arch into his touch for more. “Fuck yes, darling. That’s it. Make me cum, pretty girl.”
His hips slammed deeper till their bodies had no space between, his thrusts growing faster. Her poor hips were going to be bruised and sore from being slammed forward into the crate. The head of him nudged against a spot inside of her that had her seeing stars. She hadn’t even realized how loudly she’d cried out.
He chuckled darkly, angling her hips so he’d hit that spot with every single thrust. “That’s it, come on love, you know you want to cum all over my cock after I took your sweet innocence.”
She made a pitiful sound, the pleasure was too much and the emotions swirling inside of her caused tears to form in the corner of her eyes. His fingers rolling deft circles and him nudging into that spot was all too much for her.
She heard him groan in what sounded like sweet agony as her body stilled, her traitorous body tightening around him. He tensed, holding onto her hips for deer life as he pumped into her. She grew slick and sticky between her legs and she pressed her forehead against the crate, letting her tears fall as she composed her breathing.
Instead of staying to comfort her, he pulled out, casting a cleansing charm on himself before tucking himself away and fixing his attire. She stayed there, quietly crying as his seed and her blood mixed and dripped down her thighs.
He cleared his throat and she finally stood up, not bothering with a cleaning charm and just righting her clothing. She wouldn’t feel clean till she soaked in a boiling hot bath for several hours. But she turned to find him standing there as if nothing had ever happened. “I’ll take this into consideration when I talk to Anne about how best to break the news to the Headmaster. For now you can tell Sebastian I’ve chosen not to turn you both in. But this only lasts as long as you both stay away from the Dark Arts. Understood?”
She nodded, quickly feeling like an idiot before giving him a shaky verbal response. She wouldn’t let her sacrifice be for nothing. She’d make sure the fluffy haired brunette would stay in line no matter the cost.
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy smut#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#ominis gaunt#dark ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt fanfiction#ominis gaunt smut#little emerald snake#request
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Things worth remembering:
All Stede knows about Ed's breakdown is that it was because of him (You broke him/he took my leg cos I mentioned your name), He doesn't know about Ed's other trauma aside from his dad and while he knows Ed is disillusioned with pirating, he doesn't know the specifics about why.
Ed tends to speak in metaphors and while Stede tries to understand them, it's clear that sometimes he's missing the mark. Sometimes Ed isn't even sure of the metaphors himself, but once he has them, he holds onto them - the fish thing has got him especially.
And the thing is that Ed's only just learned to sit with himself in episode 5 and it's overwhelming him. At the beginning of 6, he's the stillest and quietest we've seen him and is gazing out to sea while having flashbacks to things he's done and people he's hurt (hello 1x09 callback).
And the thing is he's okay at the start of 7. He's made a decision about shedding the Blackbeard stuff. He doesn't say anything to anyone and he's ok until Jackie points out Stede is the rising star just when Ed wants out
He doesn't begrudge Stede being excited and happy with his new fame. He is afraid of what his presence has led Stede to: the conversation with Jackie is very much his "you defile beautiful things" moment, especially his presence brought Ned to Stede ("It's me you want").
He also doesn't understand why Stede killed Ned because Stede bottled up his trauma like his love letters. He doesn't even know why Stede a) became a pirate or b) went back to Mary, especially since Stede never actually told him where he'd been directly. He had to hear it from Anne - and Stede is betrayed by that as well ("I told you that in confidence")
Right now, he's feeling unmoored by his own identity and now Stede has taken a step that has fully changed him as a person too and dragged him straight back into the heart of piracy. He tells Jackie he wants out and she asks if Stede knows that and Ed's face just drops and he whispers "shit".
And he spends of the rest of the day thinking and quiet and realises that to process any of this mess, he needs to be away from the pirate world for a bit so he can get his head on straight because now it's roaring back in for him. He sits, he thinks, he realises he needs that space - he should speak to Stede but he tried that the day before and Stede still killed Ned.
Stede also lashes out, which definitely doesn't help. He's right. Ed is panicking, but Stede is also missing so many little clues. Ed never told him about dropping his leathers and Stede just sees him as Ed in other clothes. He doesn't understand the significance, even when everyone around them realises something is off. If even the Swede picks up on it, you know it's an obvious flag.
They both need to use their words and explain wtf is happening with both of them, but they are also both ridiculously traumatised by their past experience. Ed is afraid he's unlovable and now Stede is talking down his coping mechanism, so maybe he's right and Ed-as-Ed is unlovable, while Stede has been told his entire life he isn't enough, so becoming the ultimate pirate should be the win he's been looking for, only Ed isn't happy and Ed is leaving him, so maybe it's him that isn't enough after all.
They are both tangled up so much in their own histories and don't know enough about each others and that's why they keep lashing out and hurting each other so much - they each don't realise what they're saying is a different kind of weapon to the other.
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