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mochatsin · 27 days ago

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When MC has Good Luck

You’re luckier than most people without realizing it. While it may not be big lottery numbers that you’re winning, you still have the kind of fortune that’s convenient to you and it can make any demon envious. The brothers are beginning to see it when some of your luck is rubbing off on them.

MC here is always lucky when it’s convenient to them, but how lucky you want your own MC to be is up to you to imagine!

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Lucifer

Since he was in charge of watching over you, Lucifer was quicker to catch on to your luck than most. It’s mostly due to the situations you narrowly avoided. There was a time the house was peaceful, save for Levi and Mammon’s arguing, and you went out for a quick run to a store. Next thing Lucifer knew, the house was flooded five minutes later when the fight escalated.

He assumed that maybe the house was bad luck, but then again his brothers often quarrel like this so it’s quite the given. Though he noticed you’re always away from the scene of the crime. Food fights in the cafeteria, hell hounds on the loose at the park, potion cauldrons exploding… you were just either fortunate to be gone by the time they happened or you arrived by the time it’s over. That luck was keeping you safe.

Lucifer never gave it much thought since that saved him from worrying too much. But he does begin to understand it more when you came home from your little shopping trip and brought him back something. You brought out a vinyl record from its sleeve to show him, admitting you don’t understand or know the song but you found it from a garage sale on the way home so you got it for him when you were sure it’s not cursed.

“This… is a very rare find.” Lucifer stared at the vinyl you got him. It’s written in demonic language so you didn’t exactly know what it is, you just got it for Lucifer. He explains to you that this vinyl record was lost after people who listened to it went insane, and he’s been searching for a copy for so long. There’s a smile on his face as he pats your head before he goes to his room to listen to it. He wished he could bring you along, but he knows the effect it has on human ears.

Lucifer is not the type to leech off your luck, but he does have a good idea on who might benefit from it. The last thing he needs is those brothers of his making schemes and getting into more trouble. He’ll keep the fact you’re a little lucky charm to himself for as long as he can, but he can’t help but add a little four-leaf clover emoji next to your contact name though.

Mammon

Mammon is the first out of everyone to notice your luck. It started when you were tasked by Lucifer to drag him back from the casino so that he could finally do his chores back at home. You know well that he’s hiding in the casino to indulge in his sin and to run away from his responsibilities.

He’s quite miserable after getting his third loss of the night. He was finally getting back his earnings but blew it all away when he got too confident over his bet. You saw him sulking as he watched the wheel spin, and you pet him on the back to cheer him up. The moment you did that, Mammon saw that he got a win that got him back everything he lost and more.

“Ya got quite the lucky streak, dontcha? Gotta bring you to the casino some time!” Mammon would always tussle your hair before he would go make a bet, a habit he developed because he believed his chances of winning would be better if he did that. Most of the time it works at least.

He once took you to a horse race to place a bet. He questioned your choice of bet and placed his cards on a different rider with a better record, and yet you were the one who went home with winnings in the end when the one you chose made an unexpected run to first place. Mammon never doubted you ever since, and he would often ask you for your opinions when he wanted to place a bet afterwards.

Mammon loves those moments when he sees you happy over your luck. The sparkle in your eye when you get something from scratch cards, or how you try to hide your grin when you get a good deck in card games. If he ever gets money from mooching off your luck, he automatically uses it to treat you to something nice.

Levi

Levi is the second to notice your luck the more he gets to hang out with you. He didn’t see it at first since he hardly goes out of his room, but he ends up realizing it on his own way when that fortune starts to bleed into his interests like games.

Of course, he has a collection of gacha games on his phone where he’s determined to get his favorite characters from every banner. There was a time he asked you to pull for him and he was surprised you got the rare card immediately. He didn’t think about it much at the time and just assumed it to be beginner's luck, but he made it a habit of coming over to you whenever he wanted to pull for a banner.

Eventually he notices your lucky streak when he takes you to the arcade. You had your eyes set on a prize but needed a certain number of tickets. Levi was prepared to spend hours with you to get all the tickets you needed for it, but you managed to get it in the first hour when you won jackpot prizes that had tickets pouring streams out of the machine.

“This is kind of like the scene from the anime I watched, it’s called ‘The Main Protagonist Is Always Lucky’ and they–... Hey wait a minute.” You could see the gears in his head turning as he processed his interactions with you. There’s no way everything that happened up to now was just a coincidence, can it? “C-come with me for a moment!”

He tested your luck by taking you to the gachapon machines at the side of the arcade, watching as you got the little toy you were aiming for. Everything began to click to Levi and ever since then, he always makes sure to bring you along whenever he needs your luck for games. Levi always talks about increased odds whenever he’s with you after all.

Satan

Satan is the one suspicious about your luck when he started seeing the signs. At first he gave it the benefit of the doubt, that maybe everything that’s happening has been some sort of pure coincidence. So it does take some time for him to believe that fortune just favors you until he finally sees it for himself.

He usually likes to sit next to you in class, so he saw how you were struggling in that one quiz. It's multiple choice so it was fine, but you were nervous about getting a lecture from Lucifer if you flunked this test. You ran out of time and Satan saw you just jot down random answers on the last page before passing the paper.

The surprise on his face was priceless when he saw that every answer he saw you guessed on a whim was actually correct. Perhaps you’re just luckier than most? Does it have anything to do with your celestial heritage? No, he doubts that since Simeon and Luke aren’t as lucky as you are. The best thing to do is to experiment.

“They say there’s a secret alleyway where cats often like to hang around here, but I’ve never had the chance to stumble upon it. How about we take a stroll and see if we’re lucky?” Of course, his plan was to let you lead the way instead. Regardless if you found it or not, at least he spent some time with you. But of course, you do find a passage behind some old boxes and the whole place was filled to the brim with cats! He owes you his life.

Satan doesn’t really have much use for your luck, he’s already fascinated watching it all unfold before his eyes while you remain clueless about it. Though he does get you a little lucky cat statue, since it reminds him of you and he wanted to give you something as thanks for helping him the other day.

Asmo

Asmo doesn’t normally pay attention to luck that happens around you because he used to attribute luck to himself. He once whined when he was planning to go outside to take pictures on a new park attraction but it started to rain, the last thing he wants is to ruin his make up. But when you claimed you were going out to buy something for potions class, suddenly the rain stopped.

“Lady luck must really be looking at me!” He always says. Maybe his dazzling beauty attracted some lucky spirits to his favor, it’s what he wants to think at least. He thought the rain stopped for him. But in reality, this sort of luck only happened around your presence and it took him a while for him to notice it.

While he scrolled through Devilgram, he saw you as one of the lucky raffle winners of a designer bag he’s been eyeing on. He’s been talking about it with you for days about how he wished he’d be the one chosen, but to his surprise it was you instead! That’s when he began to think back at his interactions with you.

Asmo realized that every time you needed something by the mall, there’s always a sale. It’s convenient to you whenever you’re low on grim. School supplies, clothes, shoes, or anything that you absolutely need you’re guaranteed to find at low costs in malls or stores.

Once he pieced two and two together, he loves bringing you along to the malls or involving you in any raffles he finds online. While it’s not always a guarantee, you do get a few freebies from time to time. Free lipstick samples, perfume, or skin care products; and Asmo is ready to try them all out on you later once you both get home.

Beel

Beel is likely the one who won’t notice your luck at first. He likes to hang out with you so much but he doesn’t really pay attention to the blessings and miracles that happen around you. To him, they were all some coincidences somehow and he’s happy you get good things.

There was a time when Beel was walking with you back from RAD. You talked about how you wanted something to eat, but you didn’t have any money. That’s when Beel spotted a hundred dollar bill on the ground. He didn’t really question it, he just knelt down and took it with him so you both could buy some snacks with it on the way home.

Eventually he began to take notice of it the longer he spent time with you. You get discount coupons to his favorite burger joint, there’s always a free sample aisle whenever he takes you grocery shopping, and the cafeteria just has your favorite meal served for the day whenever you say you’re craving it.

It’s probably Satan that spelled it out for him that you’re just favored with luck that only Mammon could ever dream of. Beel finally saw it when you were lining up to buy a drink and the server announced you for being their lucky 666th customer, earning a free large devil smoothie. What were the odds that you were just in the right place, at the right time? You just talked about craving for that drink in particular too.

“What do you think they’ll be serving in the cafeteria later?” He would ask you every time it’s almost lunch. He loves hearing about your preferences, and secretly he does wish that your cravings align with his. But Beel is definitely very happy to eat anything, and he likes the smile on your face whenever you see what you wanted served later on.

Belphie

Belphie is likely the last to notice your lucky streak because he’s usually asleep when it happens, or he hardly goes outside to witness it. Beel may say a thing or two about those incidents, like how he finds it funny you get what you’re craving for in the cafeteria when you want it, and Belphie may brush it off at first as mere coincidences.

Though after several accounts from his older brother, he does stay up a bit more just to see if what they’re saying is really true. Lucky raffles, good gacha rolls, free samples, it all stopped making sense for Belphie the more he heard about it. When he’s dedicated, he pushes himself to stay up as long as his body would allow it.

He finally understood it when you were cramming a small project for class. Given how hectic your days always are with these brothers, you lost track of time and you’re sure you’re not going to get this done in time tomorrow. You wished that the classes could be suspended or you get an extended deadline.

Belphie looked more surprised than you were when there was an announcement that the deadline will be moved next week after a leak flooded the classroom you were supposed to present. “Hm… that means we have more time to sleep then,” He has this devious grin on his face, though you’re intent to finish the project now.

He realized that having you around increases his chances of a successful prank on Lucifer, though you’re the only one who escapes Lucifer’s punishments when he realizes who did it. Belphie does love to be a little mischievous with his luck, but he would rather your luck rub off on his twin during Fangol games, asking you to cheer Beel on and the demon always comes back with a win.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me oneshot #obey me fanfic

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cheezeybread · 7 months ago

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Hello :) My request is MC/Yuu overblotting- but not with magic! What I picture is them having a nervous breakdown. It starts off with them hyperventilating and being unresponsive. Then it devolves into them screaming their head off until their voice starts going hoarse and hitting anyone who tries to touch them. Maybe even throwing and destroying things. Afterwards, they refuse to speak to Crowley- even avoiding him- due to his role in their breakdown. In my mind their breakdown is caused by long term stress and triggered by Crowley telling them that there is no way for them to go home.

YES

I love this idea, it's been bouncing around in my brain for so long <3

TW // Harsh language, violent depicitions, graphic metaphors, ANGST

Uhhhh, I took some creative liberties here and there, so some things (mainly regarding Idia and Malleus because I haven't gotten up to their books in the game and refuse to look up spoilers LMAO) may not be 100% canon oopsies!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You were starting to feel exhausted.

Well, that was an understatement, You had felt exhausted ever since you arrived at NCR...but this feeling was something slightly different. It was like a nagging sensation, yet also like some sort of wet rag placed over your mind at the same time. It was concerning, to say the least, but it was something you would have to shrug off until you could find the free time to fix it.

Which most likely wouldn't be anytime soon, knowing how the days went for you.

Grim was always priority number one. Keeping him out of trouble meant constantly keeping an eye on him, de-escalating any fights that he might try to kick up if left alone for a single moment. And since the two of you were technically one student, that meant that his grades were yours. Even though he was the only one out of the both of you that could use magic, he still slacked off at every turn, which left you to straighten every corner he tried to cut, finish every project that he wrote one sentence on and left, finish every alchemy potion he left bubbling on the cauldron, even if you had your own stuff to complete.

Then there were the tasks given to you by Crowley, your "ever so kind" benefactor. Despite his school getting you into this mess in the first place, Crowley considered it your fault, and as such, made you complete various chores to earn your weight around school. Which, paired with your classes, made for a day in and of itself. This isn't to include the yard-long to-do list he gave you at the start of every week, most of the points looking suspiciously like tasks the Headmaster was supposed to do himself...

And there were the students. Some you didn't know tried to kick up fights with you, knowing you couldn't use magic back on them. So you had to learn to avoid these students, or make sure you were always traveling with a friend. And as for your friends, every single one came to you with their problems day in and day out. A dorm dispute, so they needed to crash at Ramshackle for the night and eat all of your food. An overblot. More fights. Homework. Tutoring sessions. Projects they needed your help with.

You shook the thoughts out of your mind and continued walking to class with Grim, the Direbeast nestled in the crook of your arm as you balanced both yours and his schoolbooks in the other arm.

"And then, Ace was all like-" His voice sounded unusually high-pitched today. Or maybe that was just your imagination? Either way, it was giving you a headache.

"YN!" Another voice called out, the owner quickly jogging up to you. Ace and Deuce, ever the duo. You nodded your head at them in greeting, as Grim twisted his head around to look at them.

"Ace! Hah, I was just telling YN about what happened yesterday in the courtyard!" At the mention of the incident, Ace's face blanched, and the boy looked uncomfortable and ashamed.

"Oh, you mean with him and Professor Crewel?" Deuce spoke up, laughing already "Yeah, that was hilarious- remind me again, why exactly did he-"

"YN!" Now came one of the twins- normally you wouldn't have much of an issue telling them apart, but your head was starting to pound even harder now, making your vision a little blurrier. The fact that he didn't greet you with a nickname most likely meant that it was Jade.

"Oh...hey," You greeted, your brows furrowing from the pain in your head.

"Have you been to the greenhouse recently? I seem to have misplaced-"

"SHRIMPY" Ah, and there was twin number two. You felt your shoulders being constricted in a strong hug, much to Grim's dismay

"STAWPIT, YOU'RE CRUSHIN ME!" The Direbeast yowled, practically clawing himself out of your arms and jumping down onto the ground.

"Yo, YN, are you alri-" Ace started, but he, too, was interrupted

"YN!" Oh great! You recognized the Headmaster's annoying voice anywhere. And he waltzed up to you with all the elegance of an unpolished piece of charcoal, one hand reaching out to pull your arms free of Floyd's vice grip, and his other hand dropping a stack of papers into your now-outstretched arms. "Please, finish all of these by the end of this week, if you don't mind. It's papers for the senior's internships this year, and they need to be signed to be official, but I'm much too busy doing...other things...to be bothered."

"Are you still looking for a way to get me home?" You heard yourself mumble out loud, without even thinking of asking that question in the first place. But you had made it a habit to ask Crowley every time you saw him, so perhaps it was just muscle memory.

"Oh!" He chirped, straightening the front of his suit "Ah, yes, well, in my infinite wisdom, I have found out the reason to your barging in on our new-year's orientation, how you came to be here. But as for you returning, hmm, yes, I have managed to conclude that it is thoroughly impossible."

He said it so casually that it took you a moment to digest what had been said.

The students around you had gone silent, and you could feel their eyes all turning to you.

"What." Was all you could manage.

Crowley became increasingly uncomfortable, fidgeting with the watch he kept buttoned to his vest, then brushing off his front side, then folding his arms before repeating the process again "It is impossible to return you home, I'm afraid," he said with as much bravado as he could muster "Now, as for your stay here, since there is nothing left that I can do, you will need to continue to work for-"

Everything seemed to crumble around you in that exact moment. The feeling of damp, dreaded annoyance that had been bubbling up in the back of your mind all day came to the surface at once, and you couldn't help but slam your eyes shut tight against the world. You didn't want to see that damn Crow, you didn't want to see your friends, you didn't want to see anybody!

You opened your mouth to speak in that moment, dropping to your knees, but all that came out was a painful, sorrow-filled wail, so loud and so harsh that you could feel the inside of your throat shred with every passing second.

A puddle of black ink started to fill your mind's eye, growing larger and larger until it was all your brain could think of.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Every dorm in the school was based off of one of the Great Seven. All but for the Ramshackle dorm, a long-forgotten piece of trash that rested on the campus of the school rather than in its own pocket dimension like the others.

Every housewarden embodied the spirit of their designated Great.

Riddle Rosehearts idolized the Queen of Hearts, following every law she had set in her chaotic kingdom, becoming as strict and severe with the enforcement of rules as she was.

Leona Kingscholar was a second-born, raised in the shadow of his older brother and sneered at by his people, and now had to live with the knowledge that he would never be a ruler with the birth of his nephew.

Azul Ashengrotto was an octo-mer, much like the Sea Witch, who specialized in contracts with those who were less fortunate and needed a favor.

Jamil Viper, although not a Housewarden, technically, but some would argue that he deserved to be such, was a consultant for the person in charge- someone he viewed as daft and naive to the ways of the world.

Vil Schoenheit, a man who wanted nothing more than to be considered the "Fairest of All", unable to cope with the fact that there was one who might be better than he.

Idia Shroud, a "loner" by typical standards, was born from a family long cursed, a family seen as Pariahs due to their research and studies.

Malleus Draconia, a descendant of Faes, royalty, with horns that rivaled the Great Thorn Fairy's. Despite longing for human interaction, and simply to be included, he was shunned for his bloodline and odd actions.

But you, Prefect of Ramshackle dorm, had no one to model yourself after.

You were nobody.

Every Housewarden Overblotted, one after another, because they couldn't be the spitting image of the great Seven, because of pressure, because they didn't realize that they were only teenagers who didn't have to be perfect.

Riddle overblotted because he couldn't grasp the concept of being wrong. Leona, because he wouldn't be anything greater than a second-born scum. Azul, because all his work was shredded and he was left with no power to put him above those who bullied him years ago. Jamil, because he had enough of pretending to be someone he wasn't. Vil, because he couldn't admit that he wasn't perfect. Idia, because he wanted freedom. Malleus, because he was tired of himself and the hatred others showed him.

Which only left you.

Nobody.

The nobody who landed in this strange new world, a world in which everyone had magic...except for you. A world were you were less than. A world where you were treated like a burden, despite everyone laying all of their problems on you, demanding you fix them. A world where, no matter how hard you tried, you would always, always be less than.

A nobody.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Then entire campus of NCR shook with your rage and sorrow.

The students both outside and inside stopped, simultaneously looking at whoever was closest to them before running to the source of the wail.

Everyone was silent. What could they do?

It was an overblot, the school's nurse would officially state later, brought on by stress and pushing yourself past the limit. Although you had no magic to push yourself over the edge with, the sheer amount of mental exhaustion you were being put through would work just as well as an exertion of magic, if not more so. In the privacy of their rooms and dorms, assured that no prying ears would overhear them, the students agreed amongst each other that it was more terrifying of a sight than anyone else's overblot they've seen. Yours was one of pure emotion, without any magic to artifically amplify it. Pure and untainted.

And while anyone else who overblotted could only use their magic, you held something far more powerful.

You held the emotions of hundreds of students at NCR. The most top-notch mages and students look to you with a sense of reverence. Whether you knew it or not, you held the strings of the hearts of them all. With one single word, you could cause any of the Housewardens to level entire cities for you, if only to gain your approval. You held the strings of fate for them all, and your pain and suffering was enough to make the same Housewardens, and anybody else who knew you closely- or even in passing- unable to use their magic for weeks after your breakdown.

They just...couldn't seem to use it. It was as if their magic were broken.

When you ran out of breath, finally getting all of your anger out of your system, you inhaled shakily, putting trembling hands on the ground to steady yourself.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a speckle of blood on the concrete below you, where your screams had caused your throat to crack and shred. You could see people in your peripheral vision, your friends, not one of them moving towards you.

Directly in front of you, looking as if he were about to make a run for it, was none other than Dire Crowley. You could see the sky behind him, dark and grey. Was it that color before?

"I-" You started, your voice cracking, but nonetheless heavy with emotion. You stood up slowly, your knees buckling at first, but eventually letting you stand up to your full height. You stood as tall as you could, your shoulders straight and your eyes focused straight ahead, drilling a hole through Crowley's head. Your face was wet from tears, and more were threatening to spill, but you didn't care about that right now.

"I'm done with you, Crowley," You spat, your voice holding a level of hatred you didn't know was possible. "I'm done working to make up for your shit. I'm done risking my life for you when I'm defenseless, when I'm stuck in this god-damn world because of you!" You held up an accusing finger, taking a step forward to jab it in his chest. He stepped back, but you stepped forward again, keeping the distance between you two even.

"I never wanted to be here, yet you treat me like I'm some sort of burden who showed up at your door- you force me to work, force me to be the therapist for children who need fucking help! How many overblotting students have I saved, huh? How many of those were ones you ran from, ones you refused to help with?! When have you ever been on my side? When have you ever stopped to think not of yourself, but me? What about ME, you worthless piece of shit?!"

You took another shaky breath, wiping the blood gathering on your lips with your free hand.

Crowley let out a small breath as you lowered your finger, and you turned around in a small circle to look at the crowd of students surrounding you. There were your friends, some looking concerned, other terrified. Grim was being held by Ace in a comforting gesture, the cat-like beast shaking. Some of the students had unreadable looks on their faces. Others looked confused.

"I'm done." You hissed, half to yourself, and half to the students. Although it was low enough so only those a few feet away could hear you speak, the word got around quickly enough, and the throng of students began whispering amongst themselves.

You ignored the offers of helps from your friends, and stormed off, back to the Ramshackle dorm, house of Nobody.

Ruled by Nobody.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst fanfic #twst #twst x you #twst overblot

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iliveiloveiwrite · 24 days ago

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Seventy-Eight // H.P.

Request: if you're still writing for harry potter, do you think you could do something along the lines of healer!Harry and his wife or partner in which the partner gets injured while harrys working and they go to st. mungos without telling harry and he sees them either being helped or waiting for help? - anon

A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it?! One of my resolutions for this year is to get back into the habit of posting fics. It's nice to be back! I hope you're all well! <3

Warnings: injured reader, injuries, hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 1.5k

There are seventy-eight ceiling tiles in the waiting room of St. Mungo’s accident and emergency department.

There are seventy-eight ceiling tiles and forty-five uncomfortable red plastic chairs. A resigned sigh passes your lips as your eyes start the count once again.

It was silly, really. A bit of kitchen magic gone awry that led to your seat in the waiting room. It was only when the pain didn’t subside, and the bruising was becoming darker that you even thought to have it looked at professionally.

You bite your lip against the wave of discomfort then nausea that washes over you. The burn on your left hand wasn’t pleasant to look at, but you were more concerned with the pain and bruising that emanated from your left wrist. You wanted to be seen quickly, but at the sight of the rather full waiting room, you had to admit to yourself that you may be counting ceiling tiles for a little while longer.

The time passes; the pain doesn’t dull, but the time passes. On your fifth round of counting the number of health posters displayed around the waiting room, a grey-haired nurse appears and calls you through to an examination room.

“Now,” She sighs, eyes kind but concerned. “Do you want to tell me what’s happened?”

“A bit of kitchen magic gone wrong.” You explain, wincing at the feel of her fingers prodding your sore, bruised wrist. “I was trying to sort a soothing spell for a young child having trouble sleeping, but it backfired and turned into a literal fire.”

The elderly nurse chuckles, examining the burn on your hand and noting the awkward way you held your wrist. “I’m going to get a healer to have a look at you, my dear. Just wait here, it shouldn’t be too long.”

No, you thought wryly to yourself, it wouldn’t be long at all.

In fact, it took less than three minutes for your husband to find you. His handsome face as confused as ever with panic and worry alight in his blue eyes. “Darling,” He breathes, “What happened? Are you alright? Let me see.”

The words rush out of him as he crowds you, scanning you for injury. He pales at the sight of your burnt hand, his eyebrows furrow at the darkening bruise at your wrist.

“Harry, my love,” You hush, touching your good hand to his cheek, stroking the five-day stubble. “I’m alright.”

“You’re hurt,” He argues weakly. “You aren’t alright.”

“Kitchen magic gone awry,” You confess sheepishly. “You warned me not to, I know, but our neighbour’s son still wasn’t sleeping… I just wanted to help keep the nightmares away.”

Harry softens at your words, but the panic doesn’t leave his eyes. “Did you manage to finish the charm?” He asks, taking your injured hand gently in his as he begins his observations.

“No,” You sigh unhappily, wincing a little when Harry checks over your wrist. “I’ll have to try again tomorrow.”

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Harry states, emphasising the pronoun. “You’ll be in no fit state to do it alone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can give you a healing potion for the majority of your injuries, but it will take at least a week for the redness and tenderness of the burn to disappear wholly.”

“Alright,” You answer, meeting the concerned gaze of your beloved husband. “Harry, I’m okay, I promise.”

Harry nods silently, gesturing to a nurse to grab a healing potion from the stockroom. He takes your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours as he releases a deep, shuddering breath.

“You scared me,” He murmurs, his voice no louder than a whisper as he confesses this to you.

“I’m sorry,” You answer, “I wasn’t going to come, but the bruising got worse, so I swallowed my pride.”

Harry presses a soft kiss to your cheekbone. “I saw your name pop up on the board and I got tunnel vision, I just needed to get to you, to see if you were okay… that it wasn’t anything serious. Thank Merlin, it wasn’t anything serious.”

It isn’t long before the healing potion is administered and you’re walking out of St. Mungo’s with your husband’s arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder.

“You didn’t need to leave work early,” You state, feeling more clear-headed now that the pain had completely dissipated. “I would have been fine at home until your shift finished.”

Harry fixes you with an unimpressed look. “Yes, I did.” He retorts simply, refusing to speak anymore on the matter until you were both at home.

Relief washes over you when your front door comes into sight. Harry had refused to apparate home due to your injuries, so it had been the tube and a short, brief walk home by which time the adrenaline had completely left your system, leaving you exhausted and shaking.

“Straight to bed,” Harry orders lovingly as he helps you take off your jacket. He notes the tremor in your hands and the clear fatigue written across your face. “I’ll be up with a pot of tea and a hot water bottle to warm you up soon.”

“I knew I married you for a reason, Potter,” You sigh happily, beginning the climb to your bedroom.

A light chuckle follows you upstairs; the happy sound taking root within your chest, warming you more thoroughly than any hot water bottle or pot of tea ever could. Your bones ache as you pull on your pyjamas; the skin on your injured hand feeling too tight and uncomfortable with every movement.

Harry finds you at your dressing table, running a brush through your knotted hair before attempting to tie it up in order to keep it away from your face. He frowns at the frustration furrowing your brow. “Why aren’t you in bed?” He asks, plucking the scrunchie from your fingers and tying your hair up himself.

“I couldn’t sleep in my clothes,” You argue tiredly, “They smelt like the hospital.”

Harry nods with perfect understanding. It didn’t matter how many years he would work in the emergency department of St. Mungo’s; he would never get used to the scent of disinfectant. After every shift, no matter the time of day, he would shower to wash it off his skin and out of his hair.

He drops a fleeting kiss to the top of your head when you lean b ack, against him, fighting a yawn. He taps your right shoulder twice. “Come on, my love,” He urges softly. “To bed with you. You need to sleep the day off.”

You nod, letting your husband walk you to your side of the bed. Harry pulls back the covers before tucking you in. The hot water bottle at the end of the bed does wonders at warming your cold feet up. Reaching for his hand, Harry turns his full attention back to you. “What?” He asks, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Stay with me.”

Harry falters for only a moment before he nods. He changes into his pyjamas quickly, slides into bed beside and gathers you in his arms, taking care to mind your injured hand and wrist. Harry feels your breathing begin to slow; your tense muscles begin to let go as you sink into the warmth of his body and the hot water bottle. He wants to relax; he wants to fall asleep all wrapped up in you, but his mind won’t shut off. It won’t let him forget the feeling of seeing your name written on the patient board, of not knowing what was wrong until he saw you. He would never forget the pure, undiluted dread that settled like a led balloon in his stomach; he had felt it only once before, in the second wizarding war, and he would make it his mission in life to never feel it again.

“You’re thinking too hard, husband.” You murmur.

“Your eyes aren’t even open, how on earth do you know that?”

A sleepy smile crosses your lips, growing wider at the feel of Harry’s nose nudging your temple. “I know my husband,” You state confidently, reaching a hand backwards to stroke through Harry’s hair. “I’m in one piece, Harry. I’m healed, all thanks to you.”

“I’ve never been so frightened��” He whispers, inhaling sharply, letting the familiar scent of your shampoo comfort him. “I saw your name on the board and almost lost it. I had to see you.”

“Which you did… You saw me and you healed me.”

“Please don’t get hurt again,” He all but begs, “I don’t think I could handle it.”

A soft laugh leaves you, but it quickly turns into a yawn. “I’ll try my hardest,” You vow, “Now, it’s time to sleep. I’ll sleep better with you here.”

Harry presses kiss after kiss to your temple, knowing the exact moment you fall asleep. He tightens his arms around you; needing the comfort of your skin against his to help settle his already calming heart further. With one last scan of your body, he lets his eyes close. With one more breath, he whispers, “I sleep better with you here too.”

#harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter #harry potter series #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagines

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loving-daisy · 1 month ago

Text

You Had Me At Hello | Severus Snape x Reader

Young Severus Snape never knew what love was. That was until he met her, his Valentine.

YHMAH Masterlist • loving-daisy masterlist

—————————————

Chapter 3: To Resist Those Eyes

Word count: 1,972

“Potions are going to be a lot harder this year than last year, my dear students.” Professor Slughorn, Hogwarts’ current potions master stood in front of the room, informing the whole class.

“And I really would like to avoid any accidents or any other unpleasant circumstances to arise.” He continued. “That is why starting from today, you’ll be grouped into two and this partnership will last until the end of the year.”

The room erupted into quiet murmurs, some happy with the fact that in case they’d get in trouble, their partner gets in trouble with them. Or maybe, they were happy with the thought of partnering themselves with someone smart and freeload their way into potions class. Some groaned, including Severus who was not really fond of the idea.

On second thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad at all. That is, if the professor chooses who's going to be partnered up with who. Because if that was the case, Severus wouldn’t have a problem finding anybody to partner up with. Not that he cared, though. In case that the total number of the people taking this class was odd, he’d be happy to work alone. He was better off alone anyways.

“Fortunately for everybody, you get to pick your own partner.” Severus let out another quiet groan at the statement. “So quickly, children. Pick your partner and table!” The professor urged, eyes observing the class as students diverged and converged.

After a lot of thinking in a short period of time, Severus decided to just stay in the table he currently is using. There’s no point in finding anybody. Someone will come, eventually. You just got to wait for it.

Truthfully, the quiet boy didn’t really expect anybody. But he really really didn’t expect it to be “Valentine?” he quietly mused, confused as to why the girl people branded as the Slytherin Sweetheart took a seat beside him when she could’ve picked someone else. Severus wondered why the girl didn’t partner with her own friends. The blonde twins? The boy on the quidditch team? The girl who owned a bird? Or maybe even someone else! Someone else but him.

The girl turned to face Severus, looking at him directly, eye to eye as she softly greeted “Hello, Severus.”

The boy didn’t know what was written behind the girl’s eyes but never in his life did he feel so drawn to somebody else’s eyes. Aside from Lily’s bright one, of course.

“Why are you here?” He shyly asked, trying the best as he could to not make his tone seem rude and ungrateful.

Y/N Valentine sent him a small smile, showing off her pearly whites. “Because I’m going to be your partner for potions starting today?” She carefully suggested as if it wasn't obvious as to why she was seated beside him.

Severus’ curiosity got the best of him. He didn’t mean to ask another question but he couldn’t help it. He just had to know why she would pick him when nobody ever does. “Why me?”

The girl gave him a small shrug before turning her attention back to the potions professor, who was starting to explain the specific qualities of the potion that they were going to brew today. “Because you’re my friend and you’re the best in potions.”

_______________

Y/N Valentine’s bold move resulted in a couple of uncertain glances and visible confusion from the girl’s friends. I mean, it really wasn’t a big deal. Valentine and Snape were housemates after all.

Also, it wasn’t like the students of the Slytherin house cared about whoever got partnered up with the girl. It’s not like Y/N Valentine was popular. Sure, she’s what they call the Slytherin Sweetheart but she’s not a Greengrass or a Black or a Lestrange. She was a pureblood but she wasn’t Slytherin royalty like them. In fact, that's the reason why she got her nickname - She was not like them. Well, aside from her last name. A lot really liked her last name.

However, it just happens for Y/N’s friends to have the same prejudice as that one specific group of Gryffindors against Severus Snape. Most people in Slytherin thought the boy was smart and mysterious but that’s it. There really wasn’t anything special about Severus Snape.

“What’s going on with you and Severus Snape?” The girl’s friend, the boy who happened to be one of Slytherin’s chasers in the quidditch team, interrogated her. His hands on his hips as if he was a father scolding his child.

Valentine lifted her chin to face the tall boy, her features displaying an innocent look. “Nothing. We’re just friends.” she expressed nonchalantly.

“Woah.” One of the blonde twins let out. “Never have I thought that Severus Snape was actually capable of having friends.” Commented the other twin.

Y/N furrowed her brows, arms crossing against her chest. “Don’t be so mean.” She scolded. “He’s actually nice if you get to know him more.”

_______________

The two Slytherins found themselves at their usual spot in the library. It became their ritual. Whoever would have their class finish earlier would go straight to their usual table at the far end corner. But one wouldn’t start on their homework unless the other arrives. They’d occupy themselves with a book.

Both had homework laid in front of them but the female was distracted. Her attention was solely focused on the boy in front of her. The boy who knew what she was doing but ignored it, the boy who had his mind occupied with forming cohesive and comprehensive sentences for the essay their potions professor assigned them, occasionally dipping his quill on his ink bottle. Snape knew that Valentine was staring at him. The reason, that he doesn't know. But he chose to ignore it, deciding that the parchment in front of him was more important. But after feeling a little self conscious, he hid his face with his long hair.

“Aren’t you bothered?” The girl asked.

Severus didn’t exactly know what she meant but he assumed it was her staring. “I am now, since you asked a question.” He answered, his eyes not leaving his parchment.

Y/N shook her head, chuckling at the vague answer. “No, I mean...your hair. It covers your face a lot. Doesn’t it bother you? Does it not hinder your line of sight?”

The boy shook his head “No.”

Silence enveloped the space the two Slytherins were in. The girl continued to stare at the boy in front of her, watching his every move with curious eyes. Severus continued to ignore her, he is halfway finished with his homework after all. It’s not his problem if Y/N Valentine wasted so much time staring at him when she could have been at the same pace as him in the assignment. But the girl finally caught the boy’s attention when the sound of paper being detached was heard.

Y/N ripped a piece of parchment on her roll, taking out her wand to transfigure the piece into a little black hair tie.

Severus thought the tie was for herself. He noticed how the girl always had her hair tied up whenever she needed to focus. But he also noticed the usual ribbon the girl used wrapped around her hand.

Y/N stood from her seat, making her way behind Severus, using her fingers to comb the boy’s raven hair.

“What are you doing?” Severus asked, surprised.

“Stay still, Sev. You’ll see.” She answered. With her left hand, Y/N gathered the boy’s hair, using the tie on her right hand to put them in place.

She retrieved her seat, eyeing the work she did on Severus. “Isn’t that better?” She suggested, finally opening her bottled ink and grabbing a hold of her quill to start on her assignment.

Thankfully, Severus didn’t react Y/N expected him to, Truthfully, she thought that he’d call her off, scolding her for touching his hair, and put his hair back the way it used to. But he didn’t. He only offered her a small smile.

Valentine finally got a better look at Severus' features. The boy had a big pointed nose, high cheekbones, and a sharp jawline. He had eyes similar to a black hole; dark and has the tendency to pull you in. Y/N wanted to get lost in them and see the emotions inside. If only she didn’t feel the pull inside her mind and the shield the boy was holding.

It seems like Severus was skilled at legilimency and occlumency. The girl was amused.

“I get it now.” The boy mumbled, shaking his head before turning his attention back to the essay he was writing.

“What?” She asked, confused.

“You're skilled at legilimens and occlumens. That’s why I never get to read what’s on your mind.”

Y/N shrugged. “Just like you, Sev.”

_______________

“Why are we here again?” Severus reluctantly asked, grabbing ahold of his black coat to tuck himself further away from the cold.

The two Slytherins found themselves outside the castle, in Hogsmeade as thick snow fell towards them. The boy had no intention of going out at all. If it weren’t for the personal charms the Slytherin sweetheart possessed, he would have been able to say no. But he just couldn’t resist her bright eyes and curled up lips. Severus just wouldn’t know what to do if he was the reason the light on her eyes turned off or the reason those lips turned into a frown.

“Every Saturday, they bring out limited edition chocolate frogs! They have all sorts of flavors like dark chocolate, white chocolate, caramel, hazelnut, almond, and strawberry chocolate! It’s hard to get my hands on it alone so I figured that you could help me.”

“How were you able to get it before then?”

The girl shrugged. “Pure luck.” She boasted, taking a peek at the shop’s window to know how many frogs were displayed to calculate how she would strategize to get her hands on every flavor there is.

Severus was amused at the girl’s antics, a small smile displayed on his features. Well, if you’d consider it a smile. His lips were kinda a little curled up anyways.

“I don’t believe you.” He declared.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t have asked if you weren’t going to believe me.”

The two spent most of their day going through different shops around Hogsmeade. Y/N successfully got her hands on all of the sweets she was craving, all thanks to Severus secretly hexing the other students who were on their way to grab the frogs.

Evening came, the two were now seated at the Great hall for supper. Just a few moments ago, the headmaster finished his evening speech, clapping twice to fill each houses’ table with good food.

Owls came in after. Dropping packages and letters to the hands of the rightful receiver.

A medium-sized box dropped in Y/N’s hand, a tag with a messily written ‘to sweet Valentine’ tied around it. Severus noticed the familiar logo of the sweet shop.

“So that’s how.” The boy mumbled. “You get gifts from your secret admirers.”

The girl chucked, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

“You have lots of chocolate frogs now.” Severus commented. “I hope you don’t eat all of them in one sitting. You’re gonna get cavities.”

“Yeah, and my throat will ache!” She quipped, her lips curled into a wide grin, showcasing her pearly whites.

“That’s why I’m gonna share it with you. Meet me at the astronomy tower later?” The girl proposed, eyes hopeful.

Y/N Valentine was giving the same look she gave Severus earlier at breakfast when she forced him to go to Hogsmeade with her. How can Severus ever resist those eyes?

End of Chapter 3

#severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus snape imagine #severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #professor snape #severus snape fandom #pro snape #young severus snape #harry potter au #hogwarts au #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #loving-daisy works #loving daisy au #slytherin reader

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raph-x-reader-logs · 10 months ago

Text

Masterlist

I would like to preface this with a disclaimer that I do not own TMNT and I am not a writer! This is a collection of all the Raphael writings I can find, so it would be easier to binge-read for my favorite turtle. Last Updated: 16 July 2024

╔════════════════════╗

Directions:

This is fairly simple and straightforward, but I'll add some directions just in case!

The master list is split into different iterations, genres, points of view, and then reader types. If the section gets too long (which I'm expecting they will) a new page will be created and linked on this post.

Each link will take you exactly where you want to go within this blog! This exempts the posts with a cut in them, those links will take you directly to the blog where the story is posted.

As for AO3 links, if the story has multiple chapters, it will take you to the "Entire Work" version so you can binge the whole fic.

Rules:

I am open to any suggestions or submissions! HOWEVER, within this Masterlist, you will not find the following:

OC x Raph

Canon x Raph

TCEST x Raph

Now that all of that stuff is out of the way; Enjoy!! :D -Pinto🌱

╚════════════════════╝

Fluff

NSFW

Angst

Just Friends by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV, fem!reader, NSFW too, Summary: Raph has trouble juggling his mission and his feelings for you.

—

Fluff

NSFW

Angst

—

Fluff

Focus by @pebblestar , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: Raph helps you focus, whether he likes it or not.

NSFW

When The Tables are Turned by @theturtlelovers , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: Raph really likes it when you take charge..

Overstim by @katanablue , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: Raphael is your biggest cheerleader and your number one supporter in all aspects. All. Of them.

Suit on, Dress Up by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: You look absolutely stunning in that dress.

Angst

—

Fluff

NSFW

Shower Sex by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: Things get a bit steamy with Raph.

SnapCall by @oozedninjas , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: You send him nudes while he is on patrol and he isn't quite happy about it.

Angst

Acceptance by RubyRaspberry , AO3, 2POV, Hurt and Comfort, fem!reader, Summary: An injured Raph lands on your fire escape! Turns out you’re an extremely understanding person! But how much are you willing to accept?

—

Fluff

NSFW

Rough and Tumble by @mytheoristavenue , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: After dating Raph for almost a year, he begins to ache for you...

Angst

A Reasonable Turtle by @thejudiciousneurotic , 2POV, gn!reader, Yandere, Summary: Raphael wasn't an unreasonable turtle—at least that's what he told himself with each hit of his fists, relentlessly beating the man who dared to try to take you from him.

Fire Breather by @tmntxthings , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: Reader is fed up with Raphael's attitude.

There, I Said It by @tmntxthings , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: It's that awful feeling when you can feel them slowly start to slip away.

—

Here

—

Fluff

Cuddle Headcanons by @mysticovo , 2POV, fem!reader

He's Too Nervous to Ask You Out by @scaredycatqlt , 2POV, masc!reader, hc format

You Don't Scare Me by @tmntfixationxreader , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: Raph misunderstands your shyness toward him as fear.

Self Conscious Sleepover by @tmntfixationxreader , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: Raph doesn't want you to see his retainer during your sleepover together.

Make You Feel Loved by @tmntxthings , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: Raph takes a love potion!

Wherever You Go by @tmntxthings , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: Raphael is head over heels in love with you and he would do absolutely anything for you, just as you would for him.

Dating Headcanons by @multi-fandomedfreak , 2POV, gn!reader, slight angst

A Lazy Morning by @luckycharms1701 , 2POV, gn!reader, Suggestive, Summary: It is a perfect morning.

Like 'Em Big by @hotheadedhero , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes.

A Quiet Confession by @dancingdonatello , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: Buckets of rain started to fall and he pulled you even closer to his front to try and squeeze the both of you under the small awning.

NSFW

Gentle by @fishstixloser , 2POV, gn!reader , Summary: You spend some quality time with Raph while he's brumating.

Angst

Change by @tmntxthings , 2POV, Hurt no Comfort, gn!reader, Summary: You make him happy and he's willing to do anything to make you see that he loves you. He wishes you can see that.

Big Teddy Bears Are The Best by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV, fem!reader, Summary: Raph knows he's a big guy, he can't change that. But sometimes he wishes he could.

Your Protector by @tmntxthings , 2POV, gn!reader, Summary: It was supposed to be a normal night -- a normal date. But someone got to you before he could.

Red, Red, Red by @spoopyblues214 , 2POV, gn!reader, Major Character Death, Summary: He can't lose you, he just can't.

Lights Out by @fried-milkfish , 2POV, gn!reader, Yandere, Summary: "You know I would never hurt you, right?"

—

Fluff

Miss Me? by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV , fem!reader , Summary: Raphael is away in Gotham and you miss him.

NSFW

The Night Before by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV , fem!reader, Summary: The events of the night before Raphael leaves for Gotham.

Angst

—

Fluff

Hallway Crush by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV, f!reader, Summary: Raph had a crush on the prettiest girl in school, but he's too nervous to talk to her. He took down SuperFly! He saved New York! He can do this!!

Angst

—

Fluff

NSFW

How The Movie Night Went by @theyhavetakenovermylife , 2POV , fem!reader, Summary: Things get a little steamy during movie night with Raphie.

Angst

—

This absolutely is NOT all of them. I'm steadily working through the tag again, so I'll be updating this frequently (as frequently as my life will permit lol).

Again! If you have a fic in mind and you don't see it here, please submit it! I'd love to add it to this list!

#bayverse raph #rise raph #2003 raph #1987 raphael #mirage raph #mm raph #batman raph #2012 raph #fortnite raph #2007 raph #tmnt raph #tmnt x reader #lol guess what my preference is #im gonna try and be more neutral but gosh #bayverse raph is delicious

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istoleyoursk1n · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, I saw your requests are open after I read some of your stuff and wanted to give an idea. One thing I don’t see too often in fantasy is anti-magic types so I’d like to request a Tav that is magically blank. What I mean by that is where everyone else either has magic or is effected by it, Tav can be neither of these. Try to hit them with a lightning bolt? Doesn’t work. Illusions? Doesn’t work. Enchantments? Nah. This makes them a terrifying mage hunter that can go toe to toe with many magic creatures and users. Of course they need to work around not being healed by magic as well. (Choose whoever for the characters!)

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would the boys react to a Tav who’s incapable of being harmed by or creating magic?

(If any of you won't see one for the girls, just ask <3)

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“I know I’ve already got the delightfully excellent privilege of looks to me, darling, but damn it all! You’d think those lazing Gods would grant me more than just a dashing face to get me through my troubles too!”

Immediately comes asking how the hell you gained such an ability and if so, how could he get some of that for himself.

He's envious of the fact that nearly all magic seems to have little to zero effects on you. He's far too consumed by the amount of advantages it gives you that he doesn't exactly see the downsides.

I mean, he’s seen you take a fireball to your face and shake it off as if it was nothing. However, the sight of you bleeding out as every magical healing potion and spell does absolutely nothing to aid you ends up being the very thing that makes him wonder if it would be worth it.

But hey! It's rather entertaining for him to watch every foe you encounter gasp in shock when they realize all the magic spells they throw at you do nothing to hinder your each attack.

The funniest thing he saw was someone trying to manipulate you with a charm spell only for you to humiliate them for their obvious attempt.

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“By the hells, you’re immune to magic? That’s one darn good of an advantage to have, especially on a journey such as ours. Though, it's a shame that you’ll never get to see the delights that come with it, you would have loved it, I’m sure!”

He wasn't all too bothered by the fact you couldn't create magic. Some people lived all their lives without using them and they still made fine warriors, why should he judge you?

However, he was completely shocked when he first watched a lightning bolt strike your body only for you to shrug it off. You didn't even have the burn marks that would have came from it.

After figuring out your little situation, he was both deeply fascinated and impressed. There's no way anything is stopping either of you now, not when you are immune to nearly all types of magic.

Be prepared because this man does start to give you ridiculous titles over your unique ability. “The anti-magician”, “The impenetrable magic consumer”, it gets worse and worse but it's making you both laugh.

Yet, what he does find quite concerning is the number of times he's witnessed your other companions use you as a personal test dummy in terms of magic-based attacks. He’s always quick to grab you out of those situations even though you were mostly okay with it.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“Immune to magic? Truly? Are you telling me a particularly powerful sorcerer could cast a tremendously potent necrotic spell on you and you’d just... Stand there… with not so much as a bruise? Are you certain you’re from this plane of existence-”

What in the fuck <— His initial reaction lmao

He’s never even seen anything that could resist most if not all magic, even worse that you can't even seem to make it yourslf.

He’s spent the majority of his life so heavily involved with magic and the weave that he could hardly see himself without it, better yet, he doesn't even understand how you live so mundanely.

Heck! Even lower-class citizens could learn magic if not already know how to cast a basic spell or two. Now he has a hundred different questions running through his head and you could probably only answer half of them.

Perhaps he even suspected that you may have just used a multitude of potions of resistance on yourself to turn out this way but if so, the effects should have worn off by now.

Either way, he’s bewildered by you. Intensely interested in how this situation of yours came to be and if there is truly a limit to what magic you can resist. Though, trust that he won't try to experiment on you for himself.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“Ah, though I understand the loss of seizing the art of magic for oneself is rather unfortunate, this only means that perhaps a far more naturalistic path awaits you. One I hope brings nothing but joy and aid in our journey ahead.”

Pleasantly surprised but also curious about it all. When you say all magic do you truly mean all? And if he were to bring a magical flame near your skin, would you feel it's warmth?

Though, he doesn't press on the matter too much. However, there are occasions when he has forgotten about your immunity and ends up shielding you from a magical blast you could have easily taken yourself.

Reflexes perhaps. He’s fairly used to jumping in to protect those he cares for and he does get a tad bit embarrassed over the fact that your magic immunity slipped his mind once or twice due to his own impulses.

Though worry not if magical healing spells or potions don't work on you! He knows plenty of natural ways to heal your wounds. Though it will take significantly longer.

Regardless, he's happy to be of service to you, even teaching you some ways to use herbs and the fauna around you to make a quick remedy to all sorts of wounds so you won't have to ever struggle as much as you did before.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 headcanon #bg3 x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #astarion #wyll #gale #halsin

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happyqueenandgrumpydork · 9 months ago

Text

I hate heat

#happyqueenandgrumpydork #popper the hedgehog #love potion number trouble #fooling viper #secret party #beach attack #live on tv #popper and the bird #batter up #trading faces #it takes two to tango #a huge pain #vixen and the hound #he will be loved #you're own hero #brain vs brawn #beach daze #escape from boney island

0 notes

serasfanfiction · 9 months ago

Text

CW: For Valentino being Valentino. He doesn't do anything, but he does say some things.

oOo

The closer they came to V Tower, the more loud everything became.

Paper posters gave way to bulletin boards. Every street was lit with flashing signs and arrows, pointing the way to different businesses down the main strip. Advertisements were nearly plastered on every single available surface, competing with each other in a cacophony of bright colors and promises to make all of one's troubles go away, if only one bought the product.

Sinners wandered the streets, some glued to their phones as they typed out a text message, watched a video, or shouted at someone on the other end of a phone call. Some sinners loitered around various shops selling televisions, each screen showing an advertisement for the latest gadget VoxTek was selling.

The Vees made it ridiculously easy to learn their faces, as none of the trio were shy about plastering their likeness all over their wares. Vox was clearly unafraid to throw his reputation behind anything he supported, one advertisement proclaiming, "I'd buy it." Valentino left nothing to the imagination - figurative or literally - on what he was selling, with various larger than life posters that featured the moth scantily clad and in suggestive poses. Velvette was significantly more reserved, in comparison, with only a billboard advertising her perfume, named, Love Potion.

Quite frankly speaking, it was all a bit overstimulating.

Walking nonchalantly at his side, Alastor barely gave any of bombastic sights around him a second glance. He had made little commentary since they had set out from the hotel earlier in the day, falling silent as they had entered the Vees territory. Where all of this technology was practically invented yesterday, as far as Lucifer was concerned, Alastor had lived on Earth when most of the technology around them was still in its infancy stages. Advertising, likewise, was hardly new. Humans had been shouting at each other to buy this or to buy that since they'd first come up with the idea of selling a product. They may not have had flashing lights in the 1920s or 30s, but there had been posters, billboards, and radio ads.

Modern technology just made everything more... flashy.

Lucifer watched a group of sinners standing before an electronic shop, TVs stacked up in the window. Each TV was showing the same thing: an advertisement for the latest cell phone. He was a little surprised he still cared enough to be sickened as Vox straight up hypnotized the viewers into buying the phone. He shook his head in disgust a they passed group turned mob making a mad dash into the store. "Quite the salesman, Vox is," Lucifer commented, not trying to hide his judgmental tone.

Alastor snorted. He glanced at the group scampering out with their new cell phones as he drawled, "Vox has always had a... persuasive sales pitch."

It was Lucifer's turn to snort as they passed another poster of Vox, this time just the overlord and his VoxTech logo. His ever present slogan, Trust Us, curved around the logo. "You mean he hypnotizes people into doing what he wants." It was good to know in advance. No one had ever tried to hypnotize the Devil himself before and he wasn't keen to find out if it was possible.

"Hm," Alastor hummed in agreement. "Just so."

V Tower was easy to spot, even with all the noise going on in the background. The number of surveillance cameras also began to increase the closer they got to the trio's headquarters. Lucifer eyed one as it followed their trek down the street. "So much for keeping our arrival a surprise."

The redhead smirked, obviously pleased about something. Sing song, he assured, "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

The blonde sighed. He was walking right into it, he knew he was. He was going to do it anyway, because damn his curiosity. "Oh?"

Alastor twirled his staff around his fingers like a baton. "All the cameras we've passed so far have been laughably easy to take out." With a practiced hand, he caught the staff, it's tip pointing at the offending camera. As they passed it, the little button on the side of it blinked from green to red. "Vox isn't paying attention to his little toys. Dear me, he must be away from his surveillance room."

Lucifer squinted at the camera dubiously. "You can tell we're not being watched, by, what? The camera not coming back on?"

Alastor laughed, short and cutting. "Oh, it's more than lack of interaction." He leaned in close, as if he were parting with a juicy secret. "I can tell when Vox is watching." His smile was sharp and cruel and said everything about how pathetic he found the overlord in question. "His attention has a certain... desperation to it."

Lucifer wasn't certain which part of all of that to focus on first: the fact that apparently Vox had flat out stalked Alastor to the point Alastor knew when he was being watched or the fact that Alastor clearly found the whole thing hilarious.

Father, these sinner could be fucked up sometimes.

Lucifer grinned, unable to pass up the opportunity he'd just been handed to needle the deer demon. "Didn't do much about the camera that recorded the fight."

Alastor's expression soured around the edges. His ears flattened as he resumed his previous position, snide as he pointed out, "Yes, well, I was a bit distracted by doing all the work. You should try joining in next time."

Alastor hadn't let him get involved in any of the attacks, insistent that he had everything covered, and they both knew it. Lucifer had let him because he always half hoped someone would kill the asshole.

Lucifer let the conversation drop with little more than a roll of his eyes, his mind drifting as he processed this new information. If Alastor could indeed tell when Vox was watching (which, creepy) and had been surprised by one of the attacks being filmed, one could infer that Vox was keeping the hotel under a certain level of constant surveillance.

After returning from their day out, he had hauled himself up in his room as he scoured the news for mention of any attacks. Had tracked down the news reports Rosie had mentioned. There had only been a number written reports and many more reposted written reports, with a single video dedicated to the subject. The video itself contained footage from the first attack, despite the news articles having all been posted fairly recently. Judging from the general comments under the articles and the video, few people were interested in the hotel itself beyond wanting to know if it still stood or not.

They had been lucky the fight had forced the drone to retreat or risk being destroyed. Distance had rendered the video quality poor enough his bleeding hand wasn't visible for all of Hell to see. Everyone already knew angels could be harmed, killed even. It wouldn't do for anyone to get it into their pretty little heads that angel weapons might work on him or Charlie, however.

(Lucifer tried not to think about the main image he had seen, again and again, in those news articles. Tried not to think about how reverent Alastor had looked like as he reached his hand out to the Devil, as if he were the only God the sinner would ever be able to touch. The framing of the image had made it appear like it was something so different than it had really been.)

Light pressure on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts. Out of the corner of his view, he caught Alastor withdrawing the hand he'd used to get his attention. It was a good thing he had, as it took a second for the sensor above the door to register their presence and trigger the door to open. He could only imagine what the media would have thought if a camera had caught Lucifer running right into the front doors of V Tower while lost in thought.

They stepped through the doors into a lobby themed in oranges and reds with purple accents. Hearts were definitely a motif, accenting arches and their support columns. Purple lanterns dotted every other column, more decoration than function. Lucifer took in the additional advertisements, some on the walls, some on a-frames. A large, flat screen tv displayed the VoxTek logo, but there was nothing currently playing on it.

There were a number of employees dotted around the lobby. A sheep sinner carrying a precarious stack of tablets raced off in one direction, while a horned rabbit sinner ran in another direction with an armful of clothing. A trio of sinners loitered off to the side, whispering back in forth in a frantic, hushed argument about what sounded like bottom lines and stocks. Near the back of the lobby, a blue and yellow sinner shouted about "messy actors" and "shitty wardrobes" as he frantically slammed his finger into the up button of the elevator.

At the center of the lobby, themed similar to the surrounding columns, was a welcome desk, currently being run by a white haired, fuchsia skinned sinner. Her tiny bat wings fluttered and drooped as she fielded calls. Distracted as she was, she failed to notice anyone had entered the lobby until Alastor and Lucifer had already reached the desk.

"One moment, please," she said to them, showing that she had at least noticed they were there. "Now where did Velvette say she wanted her calls sent to today...?" She bit her lip, finger hovering over one of a quite frankly insane number of optional extensions. Her eyes darted back and forth between two of them, before she shrugged and for all intents and purposes flat out guessed which one to send the line to. "Thank you for waiting," she said in a practiced, albeit polite monotone. "How may I... help..." She trailed off as she finally laid eyes on who had walked into the lobby, eyes going wide. She gaped as she recognized Lucifer but went completely blank as she took in Alastor's presence. The blonde was fairly certain that if he could read minds there wouldn't have been a single thought going through her head at that moment.

Lucifer fixed an equally practiced polite smile on his face. "Excuse me, miss," he began, only to pause when she failed to regain her senses, apparently still too flabbergasted by his companion. Brow twitching, he rapped his knuckles sharply upon the marble surface of the desk.

The noise seemed to do the trick, the sinner snapping out of her trance to jerk her head around. "Yes! Um." She swallowed, casting one last nervous glance at the Radio Demon. Between looking at Alastor and looking back at Lucifer, he could see her clawing her professional mask back on with the kind of experience that came from needing to remain calm when one's life was on the line. "How may I help you, sirs?" Her voice didn't even shake a little.

Noting the reaction and shelving the topic for later, Lucifer said, "Please let Vox know we are here to speak with him."

The sinner blinked, disbelief clear as day on her face despite her best efforts not to show it. "You..." Lucifer had the distinct impression the 'you' here was Alastor, even if she wasn't looking directly at him. "Wish to speak with... Vox?" Her tone suggested that had she not been speaking with Lucifer Morningstar, the literal king of Hell, she might have asked him if he was smoking something.

The noise, or lack there of, reached his ears. The general hustle and bustle of when they had entered had completely died down to be replaced by whispers and murmurs. Even without turning, he could feel all eyes on them. Lucifer glanced at Alastor, whose Cheshire Cat grin suggested he was internally laughing at all the fuss his being here was causing. His ears flicked to and fro as he followed different conversations.

Smile fixed in place, he affirmed, "Yup!" He waggled his fingers in the direction of her phone. "Now, please."

The receptionist stared off into the middle distance, the same blank look in her eyes he'd seen on soldier's who'd died at war. In the fatalistic tone of someone who didn't expect to have a job (or possibly be alive) in the morning, she said, "Whelp, this job sucked anyway."

Someone, a little too loudly, stage whispered, "Oh, I would not want to be in her shoes, right now."

Without turning, the receptionist flipped the person off with one hand while picking up the phone with the other. She pressed a seemingly random button as she put the receiver to her ear, a down right manic smile crossed her face.

Lucifer (and likely everyone in the lobby, as well) could tell the instant the phone was answered on the other end. A voice that matched the one's he'd heard in the advertisements bellowed, "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT INTERUPTING MY MEETINGS?"

Taking advantage of the fact that it sounded like Vox was a sinner who needed to breathe on occasion, the woman said, voice picture perfect cheerful, "The King of Hell and the Radio Demon are here to see you, sir."

A very long, audible pause, both on the phone and from the lobby around them. Then, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ALASTOR'S HERE??"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the redhead, incredulous. Seriously? What kind of history did these two have that Alastor showing up at V Tower was causing this kind of fuss? It was almost enough to make him forget he had been totally overlooked in that last statement.

Around them, every camera in the lobby suddenly came to life, zeroing in on them. Lucifer could tell by their synchronous motion, someone was likely watching them. Alastor's whole posture changed as he turned on one of the cameras, head tilted just so and smile lazy as he waved at it.

As one, those very same cameras began to sizzle and pop as they were all taken out.

Lucifer noted the redhead looked far too pleased with himself for that to have been anything other than deliberate. He knew Alastor hated being recorded, but that was just petty. Turning his attention to the receptionist, it was only because of his heightened sense of hearing that he was able to hear Vox, voice considerably more in control and at a much more reasonable volume, telling her to send them down.

"At once, sir." She set the phone down at leisure, as if she hadn't just had her eardrums tested by her boss shouting in them. Still looking at something only she could see, she said, "Vox will see you now." She pointed behind her to a set of elevators. "Please use the elevator on the right, as this is the only elevator with access to Vox's personal office." Placing her hands on the desk in a deceptively casual way, she finished, "Please have a hellish rest of your day."

"You, too," Lucifer said on reflex. He watched her as they made their way around the desk, throwing glances over his shoulder after they'd passed it. Under his breath, he asked of Alastor, "Think the hotel needs a receptionist?"

They had a front desk, didn't they? And a land line? Maybe? There was no mail service in Hell and Alastor had to get communications somehow, seeing as he refused to touch anything more modern than a radio. He'd check on it when he got back.

"Ha!" Alastor side eyed him. "Come now, your Majesty, you don't want poor Husker to be out of a job, do you?"

Lucifer belatedly remembered that apparently Husk doubled as not just their bartender, but also as their receptionist. He guffawed. One the one hand, Husk was indeed an great bartender, even willing to be a patient ear for one's troubles, if he tolerated them. He was certainly an exceptional judge of someone's character. On the other, was he a good receptionist? No offense meant to the avian feline in question, but, not in the slightest.

Lucifer added the mental note to check in on the receptionist later to his growing list of things to do.

The elevator opened without them pressing any buttons, suggesting that Vox, the creep, had other ways of keeping tabs on them. Lucifer and Alastor stepped in, the former not thrilled with how tiny the elevator was. There was just enough room for the both of them to stand side by side with little to spare. Insult to injury, the most obnoxious elevator music he had ever had the displeasure to have inflicted on him played over head. There were no buttons to chose from, but there seemed to be none needed as the elevator began its decent on it's own.

Lucifer reiterated: what a creep.

More to fill the silence and distract himself from the growing need to destroy the speaker putting out that horrible noise, he asked, "You ever been here before?"

In the same way most people would say, 'I'd rather die, thanks,' Alastor scoffed. "Absolutely not! I'd never inflict such poor company on myself willingly." Still, it wasn't hard to notice the little ways Alastor was on high alert, very much aware of the fact that he had walked willingly into enemy territory. His ego didn't allow him to worry, but it still paid to be alert to potential surprises.

Thankfully, the elevator didn't take long before reaching its destination. This new room was vast, with a color scheme nothing like the lobby's. Where the lobby was warm shades of orange, red and purple, this room was all cool shades of blue, red, white. The room was dark, only illuminates by dozens upon dozens of screens, most glowing with white light, a handful with red light. Red light filtered up from what appeared to be a deep pit surrounding a bridge-like walkway. Attached at the end was a round platform and attached to the platform was a seat surrounded by even more monitors.

This wasn't an office. This was a surveillance room.

Walking down the walkway was none other than the founder of VoxTek, Vox himself, striding along with all the confidence of someone who was at the top of their industry and knew it. His smile was wide and Lucifer immediately pegged it as the fake kind he usually saw on car salesmen. "Your Highness! Welcome!" Vox greeted. When he was close enough, he offered his hand out for a handshake.

Lucifer eyed it, just long enough to make it look like he wasn't going to take it. He didn't expect anyone to actually bow to him in greeting, but something about this guy left him half tempted to push for it now. Taking the hand, he allowed Vox to shake it to be polite.

When it came time to greet Alastor, the TV demon merely gritted his teeth and said, voice dripping with venom, "Alastor."

Alastor didn't appear bothered in the least by the rude greeting. Matching vitriol with amusement, he merely said, "Vox."

Lucifer looked from Vox, to Alastor, and then back to Vox. Man, he was so sorry he hadn't asked for more details on these two before they'd gotten here. Predicting this could go on a while if they were left to their own devises, Lucifer pointedly cleared his throat.

Vox's smile smoothed out, salesman mask back on place. "Yes, of course. Now, your highness," the sinner held out his hand towards the bridge, indicating he'd like them to come into his "office" proper. Lucifer didn't fail to notice there was only one seat down that way and it was meant for Vox. "May I call you Lucifer? Lucifer--"

Oh, absolutely not. They were going to have to nip that in the bud. Even Alastor, who had somehow become his rival for his place in his daughter's life and literally lived down the hall from him, was smart enough not to call him by name.

"The word you're looking for is 'Majesty'."

Vox paused, body tensing. The fallen angel got the impression he wasn't used to being interrupted. "Excuse me?"

Lucifer effected a bored stance, one hand settled on his cane as he explained, deliberately just this side of hostile, "Your Highness is how you would address my daughter." He looked Vox dead in the eye, making it pointedly clear he was deadly serious and there was going to be none of this BS about who was calling the shots. "Your Majesty is how you address your king."

Vox interestingly grew more calm in the face of his king's ire. "Of course, your Majesty," he said, immediately correcting course. He offered they move the conversation to the platform again. This time, Lucifer nodded. He followed as Vox lead the way, noting how the TV demon never quite turned his back on them, seemingly uneasy having Alastor at his back, even this deep into what was his own territory.

Lucifer took the time spent crossing the bridge to exam the pit around them. While the red light obscured the bottom itself, he was able to make out what appeared to be a very large tank behind equally large glass walls. Swimming around without a care in the world were what appeared to be several glowing sharks. He followed one as it made its way from one side of the pit to the other, able to sense there was nothing natural in their design. These creatures may have appeared to be alive, but they were all circuits and wires, through and through.

When they reached the platform, Vox showed sense by not going for his chair. He did stop in the center of the circle, a subtle attempt to regain some control of the situation. "Now, your Majesty," he began, just sincere enough it was impossible to tell if it was fake or not. "Please, tell me how I and VoxTek can be of assistance today."

Lucifer watched him. Watched the way his face was turned to Lucifer, but his eyes kept ticking to Alastor. Noted the way his body was tilted ever so slightly in the redhead's direction, as if drawn by a magnet he couldn't resist. Vox may have been putting on a show of talking to Lucifer, but he very much only had eyes for Alastor.

Someone was obsessed.

Someone was obsessed really badly.

Something that felt suspiciously like possessiveness reared its head deep within his chest. Lucifer had no more of a claim on Alastor than Vox did, but Alastor had chosen to live under his roof and was his daughter's hotelier. Finicky to the last, with all the loyalty of a feral, stray cat, Alastor was theirs.

Smile all teeth, eyes gold on red, Lucifer raised his free hand until they were right under where Vox's nose would be if he had one. He snapped his fingers, once, twice, sharply.

Vox nearly went cross-eyed, as he zeroed in on the offending digits, leaning slightly back.

"I know Alastor is very eye catching," Lucifer drawled, voice deepening as he let his displeasure seep in. "But you are talking to me. Do you understand?"

The TV demon had the grace to raise his hands, not necessarily in surrender, but certainly in a pacifying manner. It was easy to see him cycling through possible responses, as he fished for the one that would deescalate the situation the fastest. "I apologize, you Majesty, for any offense," he settled on, tone so polite it reeked of falseness.

Lucifer let him have it because it seemed Vox was finally cottoning on to the fact that there was a larger predator in the room then either of the two sinners. The reluctant king withdrew a step, pleased when Vox's eyes followed him, with not a single glance at Alastor. Now that he had the CEO's full attention, he decided it was time to get this show on the road. "I have a message for everyone in the Pride Ring. I've noticed how many people have a TV or a cellphone. I've also noticed VoxTek's reach." Lucifer said this last part only because it was true. However they had managed it, VoxTek has even managed to make it's way into the other rings.

For the first time since they'd arrived, Vox's smile actually appeared real. It put into stark light how fake the one he had been wearing up until this moment had been. "We would be thrilled to feature you on one of our television shows, your Majesty." He was smart enough not to look at Alastor, although it was obvious the next part was directed towards him. "Our viewership ratings have been going through the roof over the last few years. Statistics show that almost every household in the Pentagram City has a TV these days."

It was a good sales pitch. It might even have been true. The hotel had even had a TV, although Lucifer had explicitly forbidden anyone from bringing one into the palace, the exception being the live-in servants' personal quarters. Regardless, Vox hadn't said that to try and sale anyone on anything, he'd said it to rub it in Alastor's face that Lucifer had chosen to pass his message along over Vox's medium, instead of Alastor's.

Although they hadn't discussed it ahead of time, Lucifer found himself saying, in all the casualness of it having been a given, "If Alastor wishes to broadcast the message simultaneously over radio for our viewers who prefer the medium, he's more than welcome to do so, but we're not here to discuss that." He was fairly certain, even without turning around, that Alastor hadn't given it away that this was news to him.

The idea was reinforced by the way that Vox's eye twitched before he could regain control over it. "Yes, of course we want it to reach all of the intended audiences." Hands coming to rest at the small of his back, the TV demon attempted to steer them back on course. "Now, about the content of the message."

Lucifer tilted his head to the side. "Does it matter what the content is? Unless you prefer I go somewhere else to do this." Something that was also true. Mammon may lack any talent of his own, but he knew a cash grab when he saw one. He jumped onto the bandwagon that was television sets, TV shows, and moving advertisements as soon as the technology had hit Hell. The only reason none of his products where seen in the Pride Ring was because Lucifer limited his exposure to sinners were ever he could. If he gave him the green light, Mammon would topple VoxTek within a matter of months, if not less.

Vox paused, sensing he was in troubled waters, but not quite sure from which direction. "No, no. We here at VoxTek simply prefer to make sure that all the content we put out is content we stand by--"

Lucifer leaned in. If his tail were out, it would have been thrashing. "Are you saying your king could say anything VoxTek wouldn't support?"

Vox's screen left eye widened ever so slightly, the sclera going from a solid red, to more hypnotic red and black. It was there and gone in the blink of his eyes. His voice sounded glitchy as he gritted out a, "No."

"May I suggest something, your Majesty?"

Lucifer broke off what was quickly becoming a staring match with Vox to turn his attention to Alastor. The redheaded sinner had been standing behind him, seemingly content to watch the drama unfold from the side as Lucifer took the lead. Considering their rivalry, Lucifer was a little hesitant to allow Alastor to enter the fray, lest he potentially make things worse. However, he did appreciate the fact that these two knew each other better than he knew either of them.

Giving away the floor, at least for now, Lucifer gave a single short nod, for him to proceed.

Alastor stepped up until they were side by side.

Unable to resist now that the redhead had center stage, Vox immediately shifted to face him, Lucifer all but forgotten. He frowned, almost all pretenses of being a businessman all but thrown out the window. "What are you doing here, Alastor?" He snipped at the redhead. "I know you'll take any opportunity to move up in Hell, but I didn't take you as a kiss ass."

Alastor smiled at him, as if he were a short sighted child. "We hadn't gotten to that part, have we?" He gave his staff a little spin, noting the way Vox's eyes narrowed as he took in it's repaired state. "His Majesty asked me to stand with him as he gave his address."

Vox snorted, doubtful. "You'd never agree to appearing on screen." He actually started to laugh at the idea, until he realized Alastor was completely serious. "Wait, you said yes?" Gaping, he turned on Lucifer, seeming in his shock to forget who he was talking to. "What the hell did you do to get him to agree to show up on TV?" He glared back and forth between then, baring his teeth as he asked, "What, are you two fucking or something?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, lip curling back. In one fell swoop, Vox had just reduced himself to less than scum on the bottom of his boots. The only reason they were continuing this conversation was because he didn't feel like dragging Valentino down to the Greed Ring. "Maybe you just don't know how to speak his language," he snipped back, mouth moving before he could think about what he was saying or how much it gave away.

Before Vox could think too deeply on it, the redhead cleared his throat. For all that he preferred to be an unseen voice on the radio, Alastor did how to play his audience in person. "Let me sweeten the deal," he said, his hand running down the pole of his staff, eyeing the TV demon as he did so. "If you agree to broadcast our King's message, I'll do that one little thing you wanted me to do when you asked me to join you." He pointed the microphone end at Vox, the tip perilously close to his screen. "From when you agree to the end of the broadcast."

Vox stared at the microphone. Slowly, he raised his eyes until he met Alastor's. Something that looked suspiciously like sadness peaked through his anger, although Lucifer was certain they weren't supposed to see it. "You'd really do that. For him?"

Alastor withdrew his staff, tucking it under his arm. With his free hand, he reached out until a single claw rested under Lucifer's chin. Encouraging him to look up at him, Lucifer let Alastor tilt his head up and around to meet that fond expression on the redhead's face. "As his Majesty said, he knows how to speak my language."

Vox's eyes widened, a dawning expression coming over him. Real horror followed shortly behind it. "Holy shit," he whispered, staggering back. Lucifer tore his gaze away from Alastor's just in time to see him drop into his chair as if his strings had been cut. Dragging a hand down his face, Vox said with absolute certainty, "You actually made a Faustian Bargain."

He said it like this was his worst nightmare came to life.

Beside him, Alastor practically radiated smug triumph. It was all the affirmation he needed to give.

All of the fight hadn't been been cut from Vox just yet. Unhappy as he was with this set back, Vox was already trying to figure out how spin this in his favor. An elbow resting on each arm of his chair, the knuckles of his joined hands pressed to his lips, he countered, "Alright, Alastor does his thing and I'll broadcast whatever you want." His grin took up most of his screen, all pretenses of friendliness dropped. "Give me an hour to prepare the studio for you."

Before Vox could run off, Lucifer placed one last little condition on him. "Vox. Make sure the other Vees are in attendance." At the TV demon's questioning tilt of his head, the blonde merely said, "I wouldn't want anyone to miss my message."

Whatever Vox thought of this was hidden behind his joined hands. Instead of bothering with any of the usual ways out of the room, Vox transformed into a bolt of electricity, disappearing into one of the monitors.

Silence descended over the room. Then, "You two have history."

Alastor snorted. "You know how to use your eyes, your Majesty. I'm impressed."

Lucifer ignored the sarcasm and the insult in favor of observing his companion. The redhead's brows were furrowed with concentration, eyes closed and the very air around him warped to a noticeable degree. To Lucifer, a creature who had existed before physical matter, picking up on the way Alastor was enhancing certain electromagnetic waves around him was child's play. Hoping to kill two birds with one stone - learning more about their shared history while figuring out what the sinner was doing - the little king gave into his curiosity and asked, "What did Vox want you to do?"

Alastor didn't answer for a moment, whatever he was doing taking quite a bit of his concentration. Lucifer patiently waited him out. Several minutes ticked by with nothing by the hum of the monitors and the swimming of the sharks to keep him occupied. Cracking open a single eye a slit, Alastor reached a point in whatever he was doing where he could split his attention. Lucifer noted the pupil of the visible eye was a dial.

"Do you know how the technology in that silly little device in your pocket works?" Alastor asked by way of response.

The only things Lucifer tended to carry on his person were his cane, which was in his hand, and his cellphone, in case Charlie tried to call him (rare that it was). His cellphone, which was indeed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he eyed it. He knew it worked. He knew how to work it. Did he really need to know more? Besides, it wasn't one of VoxTek's cellphones, which made him less wary of it. Confused as to where this was going, he said, "It works, isn't that all that matters?"

"Such a pedestrian response." Alastor hummed, his microphone coming over to point at the little device. "You device works because it's able to transmit data via radio waves." He used his staff to gesture to the room around them, his eye falling shut now that he no longer needed to see to engage in the conversation. "Vox's specialty is electricity. He can interact with anything that uses it."

Lucifer remembered the way the TV demon had disappeared into his monitor, a chill running down his spine as he imagined what all else he could likely interact with.

"Radio waves, on the other hand, are my specialty," Alastor continued. This fit with what Lucifer had observed both in the current moment and back at the radio tower. "Usually I simply use them to connect myself to any radio in Pentagram City, but I can also enhance them." His edges of his smile tightened. There was no strain in his posture, but Lucifer was suspicious they might see hints of it if this carried on too long. "When Vox wanted to introduce wireless technology to Hell, he suggested that we team up. He would create the technology and the demand, and I would enhance his reach." His expression sharpened into a sneer. "I had no interest in being a mere tool in elevating him to the top."

Judging from the short interaction he'd observed, Lucifer was suspicious Vox had wanted much more than just to use Alastor as a tool. Vox had done little to hide the depth of his anger and hatred, and no one reached that level of emotion without having swung in the opposite direction first. Lucifer wondered if Alastor had really turned Vox down because of his own lust for power or if Alastor had seen the way Vox had looked at him and hadn't been interested.

Since that question was more likely to shut down the conversation then receive an answer, resigned himself to never knowing. Either way, he supposed he should be happy that Alastor had turned Vox down. Lucifer didn't want to think about what they could have accomplished if they had somehow found a way to work together.

Instead, he went with, "So, you can interact with anything that receives radio waves, then. Not just radios?"

In response, his cell phone dinged. The screen lit up to the lock screen, showing he had a new text message. Though it should be improbable, there was nothing in the place of a sender's name. Lucifer silently frowned at it, suspicious of who was the sender, but unwilling to open anything he didn't know who it came from.

As if sensing his distrust, Alastor crooned, "Go on. I promise it's not spam."

Lucifer was still wary, but he unlocked his phone. If this was malicious ware, Alastor was getting him a new phone.

The text message was indeed not spam. When he opened it up, there were simply two words:

You suck!

Lucifer glared at the message. "So, what? How would this help Vox?"

Alastor wagged a finger at him. "I'm currently high jacking every TV and cellphone with it's WIFI turned on. 666 News has never been more popular than it is right now." He paused, as if searching for something. "I excluded most of the phones in the hotel, but I do have Angel's."

Lucifer whistled, giving credit where it was due. That was honestly incredible. Terrifying in it's reach, holy shit, but incredible. A thought crossed his mind, an unholy grin slowly spreading across his face as he wondered, "Wait, if I reply to this, will the message go straight to you?"

"Ha!" Alastor shook his head, using his microphone to bop the top of Lucifer's hat. An impressive feat, considering his eyes were still closed. "Sorry, but I'm merely a transmitter and an amplifier. My abilities don't work that way."

Lucifer straightened his hat, half tempted to try anyway, just to see if it were true. Perhaps he would another time.

He was interrupted from any further questions by one of the monitors coming to life over Vox's chair. A moment later, the sinner himself reentered the same way he had left. Vox settled back in his chair, legs crossed and significantly more calm than when he left. "The studio will be ready for you in half an hour." He glanced once at Alastor, who had opened his eyes upon the TV demon's return, before returning back to Lucifer. "Let's relocate there now, shall we?"

Lucifer nodded. Instead of leading them towards the elevator they'd come down in, Vox merely joined them in the center of the platform. It became apparent why when the very middle suddenly began to rise, revealing there was yet more ways in and out of the surveillance room. Once they were back in the lobby, he led them over to elevator on the left, only sticking with them long enough to press the button of the floor with the studio, before pulling back out of it. "I'll meet you up there."

The door closed, once again leaving just the two of them and that horrible elevator music.

Lucifer glanced at Alastor. He still looked fine, but he was definitely putting out a lot of power. Feeling concerned (Alastor had agreed to do this for him) and wary of insulting him, he asked, checking in, "You doing okay, still?"

Alastor's ear twitched, the widening of smile showing he wasn't insulted, but rather amused. "Oh, don't worry your little head, I'll be just fine, your Majesty." Eyes aglow with more than just the power it took to carry out his promise, he added, "But I expect a reward when we return to the Hotel."

Lucifer felt a jolt run up his spine. The chain around his neck didn't manifest, but he could feel it tightening ever so. Alastor was invoking their deal, officially giving him his 12 hour notice. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, as Alastor had yet to actually invoke the deal since making it with him. Tilting his head so his hat hid his expression from both Alastor and the camera's gaze, Lucifer grumbled, "Should have known you'd do nothing for free."

The doors to the elevator opened, illuminating the redhead's sinister grin. A few sinners had paused to catch a glimpse of them as the doors opened, only to pale at the expression on Alastor's face. They quickly scurried off to carry out their tasks. Lucifer stepped through the doors, taking in the chaos in front of him. Numerous demons were running around, similar to the frantic energy he'd seen in the lobby, everyone getting the studio ready. A stack of papers and angry shouting from a blonde woman in a red dress (what was her name? It started with a K) suggested that something else had been planned for this hour, but had been cancelled due to Lucifer's abrupt interruption.

Lucifer might have felt bad, if it weren't for the fact that he knew without a shadow of a doubt this particular reporter was likely going to find some way to verbally eviscerate him later. He may not have remembered her name, but he did remember her particular brand of cutthroat journalism and the outright nasty things she had said about his daughter in the past. And her casual abuse of her co-reporter.

As if sensing she was being watched, the reporter turned her head a full 180 degrees, her smile down right unhinged and full of promises.

Not for the first time since landing in Hell, Lucifer almost wished he was still capable of creating Holy Water. There were some situations one just needed a spray bottle full of the hard core stuff for.

"Your Majesty," Vox pipped up, appearing from seemingly nowhere. The only reason Lucifer didn't jump was because he was still caught in a glaring match with a literal reporter from Hell. "This way, please."

Lucifer carried on glaring at her, right up until he physically couldn't. "I don't care who you've got sitting with me, I don't want her anywhere near me."

Vox followed his gaze, snorting when he saw who he'd been making a stink eye at. "Oh, no worries." He turned his own glare on Alastor. "I'll be copiloting right along with you."

Lucifer took in the two chairs. If he was sitting in one and Vox in the other, Alastor was going to be left standing. Judging from the gleam in the TV demon's eye, this was on purpose. Vox pulled out the seat on the right, the malicious reporter's coworker's usual seat, a smile so fake one would have to be blind to think it sincere spread across his screen. "Just a few more finishing touches, and then we'll be ready to begin." He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the bowels of the studio.

Lucifer blinked down at the seat. He could already feel the sheer number of eyes from the people in the studio, watching and waiting to see what he was going to do next. This was the first time almost every single one of them had ever seen him in person. He already hated everything about this. It was more than enough to make him want to retreat back to his room at the hotel and not come out for the rest of the month.

A gentle brush, an almost tickle, against the back of his neck, the feeling almost shockingly intimate, startled him. He inhaled sharply, not having noticed that he had stopped breathing. Instinctively, he turned his back on the growing crowd, his hand coming up to half way, before he aborted the motion. Turning to face him, Lucifer noted that Alastor appeared to have not done anything, standing in that default pose he favored. The only reason Lucifer could tell it had been him that touched him was from the way the redhead was watching him.

"Smile, your Majesty," Alastor murmured, voice pitched low and soothing. "The hardest part is almost over. I'll be with you the whole time."

How out of sorts had he been that even the Radio Demon was taking pity on him? That the reassurance was a comfort?

Lucifer breathed in slowly through his nose, breathing out even slower through his mouth. His racing heart began to calm, as he reminded himself that he had taken on far more terrifying beings than a room full of nosey sinners. This was all for Charlie and the safety of her dream, and for that, he could handle anything.

He dropped into the offered chair, the anticipation of a battle falling over his shoulders like a weathered cape.

A door opened off to the side, one that he hadn't seen anyone coming and going through. Stepping through were none other than Valentino and Velvette themselves. Velvette was typing away on her phone, muttering about an interruption to her photo shoot.

Valentino paused as he caught sight of Lucifer and Alastor. "Oh! If it isn't papito, himself!" The grin spreading across his face and choice of wording caused the blonde's skin to crawl. Sauntering over, Valentino nearly draped himself over desk, bringing his and Lucifer's faces far too close together. "You wouldn't want to hang around after this little show for some one on one time, now would you, mi pequeño rey?"

Lucifer had barely managed to do more than lean back in his chair, trying to escape the heavy stench of smoke and hard drugs that hung around the Overlord like a second skin, when a weigh settled heavily on his shoulder. He glanced up, finding that Alastor had stepped up beside him, hand placed in such a way that it wrapped possessively around shoulder and was beginning to snake around the back of his neck.

"Valentino." Alastor's filter was grating, a warning despite his pleasant smile.

Valentino lazily blew out a thin pink, heart shaped mouth of smoke. It hit Alastor in the face. His smile was filthy as he gave the deer demon a once over. "Don't be jealous, venado, my offer is still open to you, too."

The static glitch of a record screeching. It wasn't hard to pick out Alastor's distaste with everything from the offer to the Overlord himself. "Pass," he quipped back, shotting down the offer with extreme prejudice.

The pimp shrugged, viewing it as his loss. He turned his attention back to his original target. "What do you say, papito? We could--."

"Val." Vox's voice was barely recognizable through whatever filter he was using, the noise causing Lucifer to flinch as it grated at his ears.

Valentino pouted, somehow making it look aggressive. "Vox, querido, what have I said about using that tone with me?" He twisted around in a way that accented his figure. "Don't be upset because the Radio Demon's already turned you down."

"The show is about to start, Val," Vox pointed out evenly and sternly, despite the dig. Lucifer was beginning to pick up that when it was anyone other than Alastor, the TV demon might actually be able to keep a cool head. "How do you think it will look if we don't start on time?"

Valentino's pout to edge in the direction of a normal pout. "Spoil sport." He leaned back until he was facing Lucifer. He reached out, running a single finger along the underside of the blonde's chin. "Call me if you change your mind." Offer made, he thankfully, finally got off the desk and made his way back over to Velvette.

Lucifer was going to take a long, hot shower when he got back to the hotel. With acid. Regrow some nice, new skin that Valentino had never touched.

Alastor pulled him from his thoughts, giving the back of his neck a squeeze. Lucifer was almost sad for the loss of contact when he pulled his hand away so he could resume his prior position.

From where he stood, Vox watched the two of them, his expression unreadable. Several minutely later, the blue and black themed sinner dropped into his own seat, calling out to the cameraman as he did so. "How's the camera holding up?"

The cameraman peaked at Alastor, indicating this question was because of the redhead's tendency to take out anything with a camera around him. The sinner studied his monitor and then gave a thumbs up.

Vox clicked his tongue. "So," he gripped, irritation heavy in his voice. "You can be recorded without destroying my electronics."

Lucifer couldn't see Alastor from where he was standing almost directly behind him, could only hear the tapping on his fingers on his microphone. His taunt was malicious as he came back with, "We both know I can be photographed ...when I want to be."

The TV demon grimaced, the hit landing where it obviously hurt. He had little time to recover, as the cameraman began his countdown. As he hit zero, Vox's smile was back in place, just a lot less real.

"Top of the hour, folks!" Vox's voice was loud and boisterous, the rhythm and pace almost break neck. "Breaking news: in a rare interview, we're joined by none other than the King of Hell and the Devil himself, Lucifer Morningstar!" Vox leaned over, holding a hand out to indicate the fallen angel sitting beside him. "Please, give your people a little wave, your Majesty."

Lucifer resisted the urge to flip him off. Gave the camera a little wave with little enthusiasm.

Vox carried on, unphased, "Equally rare and unlikely to never happen again, fellow sinners, we also have radio talk show host, the Radio Demon himself, Alastor!"

Alastor didn't wave. He grinned straight into the camera, as if staring into the very souls of the views, eyes and teeth alight as reality itself threatened to warp around him.

The camera gave an alarming whine. The cameraman gave an alarmed cry as it threatened to give out.

Point made, Alastor seemed to remember he was supposed to be behaving. The camera stopped whining as reality returned to normal.

Vox's eye twitched. Smile strained along with his chipper tone, he said, "Your Majesty, I assume your being here is because of the attacks on the hotel your daughter is running?"

Lucifer gave him his own chipper smile. "You mean the attacks you only know about because of your voyeuristic habits?"

Vox laughed, a touch nervously. "You've clearly never dealt with the paparazzi, sire. One has to cross a few boundaries if they want to get the exclusive first."

Was that what he was going with?

Either blind to it or ignoring it, Vox glossed over Lucifer's offense, moving on to, "Please, tell us, do you have any idea who's behind the attacks? We're dying to know."

Lucifer highly doubted that. Or at least, doubted Vox cared. It was more likely he wanted the hotel to fail or get taken out, judging from his poorly concealed eagerness. He leaned his elbow onto the table, chin resting on his palm. "I'm not here to waste my time nor the listeners' with an interview." He took delight in watching Vox falter for the first time since the interrogation began. Over his shoulder, he called sweetly, "Alastor?"

Alastor's voice was just sweet and still more bloodthirsty. "Yes, sire?"

It was a show of how in tune Vox was with Alastor's moods that the TV demon was already beginning to sweat. He was doing a good job of hiding it, Lucifer would give him that. It was a pity he was sitting beside someone who could see right through him, when he chose to make the effort. Lucifer rose from his chair, the blue and black sinner nearly taking a screen full of wings as they manifested. "Be a doll and make certain Vox doesn't get any ideas. Like interfering."

"With pleasure." Alastor's words were nearly lost to his filter. The air around them crackled, the shadows in the corners of the room growing unnaturally dark. Vox dropped all pretenses of pretending he wasn't unnerved, leaning back as much to avoid the wings as to distance himself from the redheaded sinner.

Red and white wings fluttered, giving Lucifer the lift to make stepping up onto the desk look effortless. Papers flew everywhere and a few people made startled noises as they were hit with a few errant pages. His wings fanned out, allowing him to gracefully fall into a seated potion on the other side of the desk. He leaned to the side, placing his weight on the hand braced on the desk, head rolling until he was facing the other two Vees. "Velvette, if you value your life just sit there and look pretty for a bit."

Velvette narrowed her eyes to slits at him. "What the hell?"

Valentino waited to see what advice he had for him. When he received none, the pimp blew out a lung full of pink smoke. His expression turned sultry. "Nothing for me, pequeño rey?"

Lucifer didn't respond, not wanting to give the game away too soon. Relaxing his control over his form, he allowed the full extent of his corrupted, angelic form to appear on full display for all of the viewers to see. Far too many eyes focused in on not just the camera, but the cameraman and the sinners directly around him. Each of them instinctively shied away, hindbrains warning them they were out in the open and too exposed. Vox attempted to push his chair back, the area around the desk suddenly a little too hot, only to be stopped by the end of Alastor's strategically placed staff locking the chair in place.

Lucifer rolled his head back around, until he could easily stare into the camera. "Now, to clear up a few things: I could care less about sinner politics." He grinned in that way he knew looked off, even for a creature of Hell, leaning into the fact that he wasn't human and had never been human. "How you decide to throw away the one good thing you stupid, stupid little humans have going for you is up to you." His pupils were lost in a red glow as his temper spiked, the flame of hellfire blazing between his horns. " What I do take issue with is someone sending hitman to threaten my daughter over something as silly as potential lost contracts."

He slid off the desk, the sinners in front of him all collectively taking a step back. Only the cameraman stayed in place, too frozen to move. "Perhaps it's my fault, I've been away a while." He held out a hand, fingers searching until he found the particular contract he was looking for. "Perhaps it's yours for never reading the fine print." His hand closed around his desired target, a chain made of pink, translucent smoke, deceptively fragile, coming into being. One end led out the doors. The other end led off to the side, leading over to a certain Overlord.

Valentino's and Angel's contract.

The pimp held up his wrist, confusion evident on his face. "The fuck?"

Lucifer's grin was all teeth. He wrapped his hand around and around the chain until he had a nice, solid grip on it. Without warning, he viciously yanked on the chain.

Valentino was pulled so hard, his shoulder nearly popped out of its socket. The pimp yowled like a cat dropped into pool as he was sent crashing to the floor. Lucifer didn't give him the chance to recover, reeling him in like a particularly resistant fish, the Overlord shouting and cursing as he was dragged across the floor. The Devil gave no quarter, even when he had him where he wanted him, pressing his heel into Valentino's back and twisting moth's arm until it was just short breaking.

"You see," Lucifer carried on, tone bored and voice raised over the slew of insults being thrown his way, "There's this little clause in your contracts that say I have the final say in every single one of them."

"You little shit!" Valentino hissed, twisting in a way that should be impossible for someone who purportedly had a spine. "We had nothing to do with the attacks on that shithole your hija is running."

Lucifer pulled on the chain until he could hear the shoulder pop. The sinner's claws dug into the ground beneath him, glare baleful. "Maybe," Lucifer said, almost nonchalant. "But you're the lowest kind of sinner: the kind that profits on selling human flesh and locks people into contracts so they can never escape."

The moth demon snarled, composure gone. "Every one of those whores came to me willingly. I made them stars. They would be nothing without me."

The Devil peered down at him, unmerciful. All of Valentino's sins where on display for him to see and judge and he found him wanting. "Nothing gives you the right to abuse another human being."

Lucifer returned his attention to the camera. He wrapped his free hand around another section of the chain, pulling the links tight between his two fists. "Let everyone remember that your little deals mean nothing if I say so."

Without further ado, he pulled almost effortlessly on the chain, Valentino's strength that of a kittens next to his. A link, just off center, gave, pulling apart until it shattered. Each one of the links similarly followed suit, falling from his hand like crystalline shards. They vanished like the smoke they had originally appeared as before they could hit the ground.

Valentino's arm, free of the chain, fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Lucifer stepped off his back, releasing him. Stepping around the desk this time, he held his hand out to Alastor. The Radio Demon blinked back at him, something delighted behind his gaze.

It looked a little like victory.

He took Lucifer's hand.

"The Hazbin Hotel and every one of its residents are under my protection," Lucifer declared into the stunned silence, voice projected loud and unearthly, raising the hair on ever sinner's head, save the one in front of him. He looked upon each of the sinners in the room, gaze coming to rest on the camera lens. "I will not have mercy upon anyone looking to cause my daughter anymore trouble."

To his right, a portal appeared. Without another word, he stepped through it, pulling Alastor along with him.

As everyone continued to stare, the portal vanished and they were gone.

tbc

Translations:

-Papito: Little daddy

-Mi pequeño rey: My little king

-Venado: Deer or venison. I chose this word as a way for Valentino to make a dig at the fact that Alastor's demon form is a type of food source.

-Querido: Darling, used if you love or like someone. Chosen as a shoutout to the affair they're clearly having.

#radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #deer lucifer fic #someone on twitter pointed out how wifi works #and then i looked into how cellphones and wifi works #and couldn't resist playing around with it #why stop at playing with lucy's powers #when i can play with everyones?#ps i only took a semester of spanish #so sorry if i botched anything #i did double check everything #so here's hoping its all fine #i'm going to have to add so many new tags to ao3 when i post this chapter #lmao

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fluxweeed · 9 months ago

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Hii, I just discovered your fics and am reading my way through them. Love, love, love the ones I’ve read so far.😊 I was just wondering what your favourite Draco is you’ve written, and what your fave Draco is in fics written by others? ☺️

ACK thank you!! what a question!! i've considered this v carefully and it turns out i have………a lot of thoughts. i will keep them under a cut so nobody is accosted with a full 700 words of my Draco Opinions 😂 so my quick answer is:

my fave draco i've written: the taste of țuică my fave draco ever: rookie moves by peu_a_peu

draco is an interesting one for me bc i don't really LIKE him? but i have sooo many feelings about him. really not sure i could summon the same fervour for harry, for example, who is my number one boy forever and always.

(i saw a thing once that said a pairing becomes ur otp when u relate to one of the characters and want to fuck the other one, and 🙈 i mean, i think you're supposed to relate to the gryffindor, aren't you. whoops.)

OKAY SO HERE'S THE UNHINGED DRACO MALFOY ESSAY BY FLUX W. EED.

listen. i love and respect people who are Refined Draco enjoyers. connoisseurs of redemption arcs. appreciators of majestic malfoy bone structure and ethereal grey eyes and soft windswept hair. fans of dracos who insult harry (with hidden affection) and who are a bit snobbish (in a rich, sexy way) but ultimately have realised the error of their teenage years and have become a better person. perhaps this draco has built a potions business and helps the aurors. perhaps he IS an auror. either way, he has a biting sense of humour, maybe, but he's a good guy.

unfortunately, the draco of my heart is a horrid mean little rat man.

i've never actually managed to write him the way i love him. i tried to aim for immoral bastardy in what's mine is yours but i got so caught up in trying to nail the feelsforbreakfast-style humour in the narrative that i ended up focusing much more on that and much less on writing genuine bastardhood.

i've written him as reserved and clever (in the four doors – this draco was written entirely for @jovialobservationanchor, who had a weak spot for closed-off academics with soft centres) and as a traumatised self-loathing mess (in two to lie and to some extent for lack of wanting and say no to this) and hopelessly sexually/emotionally horny for one harry james potter (in, um, most things) but i've never managed to capture the genuine cruel streak and flawed personality that is sooo so important to me.

WHICH IS WHY i picked țuică!draco for my favourite of the ones i've written. he's still a bit too emotionally intelligent to be Just Right, imo, but i think he's maybe the closest? he's unrepentantly rude to people. he's not attractive. and he has a streak of self-destructive fucked-upedness that is some form of wartime guilt, but certainly not a pretty one.

HOWEVER. rookie moves?? NAILED it. i adooored how genuinely fuckin MEAN he is, even tho he's an auror. i love love LOVED that he's kind of bad at his job in a way that's in complete opposition to how drarry!draco is often written these days:

The look on Malfoy’s face was not only troubling, Harry realized, but familiar. At once activated and dead behind the eyes, like an invasive species in an ecosystem that could not check it. It was the look of the meanest fucking teenager Harry had ever known, giving in to his urge to bully.

What Malfoy wasn’t good with was people. Despite his repeated insistences that his upbringing had equipped him with impeccable manners and a facility with society intrigue, the truth was that he rubbed almost everyone the wrong way. He was, undeniably, annoying. Witnesses were put off by his snide, dismissive tone, and he didn’t know how to coax out information with curiosity, warmth, or strategic silence.

that's not to say unrepentant cunt draco is the only one for me!! i DO enjoy the classic redeemed drarry draco!! i love a quirky draco, à la wwpwcs or maya's drop dead gorgeous. gallaplacidia's draco is sooo painful for me to read (complimentary) that even though i adore her fics, i still haven't read them all bc i have to space them out, for my health. and i'm sure there are dozens more dracos that i'm forgetting how much i like – basically, as long as he isn't super suave, absolutely gorgeous and/or obviously tom felton, i'm on board.

#also ohsodraco i'm lowkey starstruck that ur in my inbox + ao3 comments #i've been following u from my main acc for approx a thousand years #i'm all aflutter #also speaking of being starstruck #v glad that peu doesn't seem to have tumblr so she might not see me being weird about her fic AGAIN #nobody send this to her god #i've embarrassed myself enough as it is #ALSO. i have a poll saved in my tumblr drafts abt that 'otp = want to fuck/relate to' theory but i am too scared to post it #bc i'd be so embarrassed if it got like 2 votes lmao #someone with a Following pls promise to reblog it so i can gather data bc i'm sooo interested to know whether it's true

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erens-heart · 2 years ago

Text

FIREPLACES | HJP / YOU

you start to think your friend harry potter is quite attractive.

a/n • idk what the fuck this is! my first time writing in about 5 years and i’ve also never written for hp characters despite loving harry from the age of 5.

theme • angsty and fluffy, i don’t write smut (for now!!!)

warnings • mentions of death, grieving harry, violence

word count is 4.1k, i wrote this in one sitting.

you weren’t exactly irrelevant, your name was at least recognised, however you were also perfectly and plainly ordinary. you didn’t have a huge number of friends at hogwarts, however you were lucky to be well acquainted with harry potter. you weren’t close enough with him to spill your deepest and innermost thoughts, but you enjoyed laughing with him on the way to dinner most evenings; you greeted each other warmly whenever you passed him in the corridor and even offered to help him with his homework on the odd occasion. it was a simple friendship - nice. your conversations never got much deeper than, “hello”, “how are you?”, “have you handed your essay on werewolves in yet?”, but they were pleasant nevertheless. the most you knew about him was that he had triumphed against voldemort (but who didn’t) and lived in an awfully dull neighbourhood called little whinging, but he never went into any detail about his encounters, you assumed that he saved those stories for his best friends ron and hermione. in fact, the more you considered it, you realised that harry was actually a very private, quiet boy, who said as little as he could get away with. sometimes when you said “hello” you felt as though you’d bothered him, he always seemed to have a sad look in his eyes, even when he was laughing his hardest.

you never really took much time to consider finding harry attractive, until you overheard two gryffindor girls oggling over his photo in the daily prophet on the way to your lesson one morning. you revised the idea in your head, and admittedly agreed that his eyes were really gorgeous, and recalled the times you’d caught his cold eyes in class. most of the time it was because he was deep in thought, staring at the wall past you and you happened to be looking in his direction.

professor slughorn was in the middle of teaching potions. you weren’t completely invested in the lesson because you couldn’t concentrate. your mind kept distractingly returning to the idea that harry’s eyes were infact really pretty. you turned discreetly to your right and saw him sat there. to your startled dismay his blue eyes were staring right at you. you weren’t good at things like this and sat there stiffening, knuckles turning white as you gripped the edges of your desk at your attempt to hide the fact that you’d been oggling at him like all of the other girls in your year.

when the lesson had come to an end, you heard harry’s soft voice call after you, because you’d been trying to hurry out amongst the rest of the bustling students to escape the embarrassment of the escapade at the beginning of the hour. as much as you’d wanted to, you couldn’t ignore him, you were supposed to be good friends, so you paused whilst teetering out of the arched doorway and turned on heel.

“hey harry.”

he seemed even more troubled than usual, and you immediately felt your stomach lurch. “slughorn’s loving you these days, isn’t he?” you continued whilst the conversation remained in the archway of the classroom even as the other students dispersed back to their common rooms.

harry nodded before slowly presenting you with his potions book. you were confused until he opened it to the blank page prefacing the table of contents.

this book is property of the half-blood prince.

“i’m not quite sure what this means.” you followed dryly, screwing your eyebrows together at the peculiar text, it seemed to have been inked in by a student.

harry hadn’t talked much yet aside from calling your name. his thin lips pressed into a frown and he shook his head too, “me neither. this book is the reason i’ve been coming out on top of the class”, your eyes found his whilst he spoke, “hermione would tell me to hand it over to slughorn, and ron might get jealous, so i thought i would show you. you’re easy-going.” your lips curled up at the compliment he had just paid you. for the first time, he’d confided in you before either of his best friends, and it gave you butterflies for some reason.

—

ever since your conversation with harry after potions, you two had been meeting regularly in the library. you had asked harry if you could copy the notes from the strange book into your own for academic purposes, and unbeknownst to you harry had agreed because he found your company oddly comforting.

this particular evening was unlike any other until harry broke the silence in a way that was strikingly unfamiliar to you. he started venting.

“being the chosen one isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” he sighed with comedic, adolescent frustration and pressed his cheek against a stack of books on the desk. he was watching your quill scribble away and fought back the urge to yawn. he was grumpy a lot of the time, he’d become a very temperamental boy in the recent stages of his teen-hood - it made you giggle. you put your quill down, and entertained his complaint by asking him “why?”.

he rolled his eyes and pointed at two fourth year girls sat in the corner of the library, “i haven’t gone a day this year without some girl coming up to flirt with me,” he consciously tugged the hood of his jumper closer around his neck, ”i think i preferred it when everybody hated me last year, to be honest.” you managed a laugh and put your hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

“i can picture your frustration. i don’t blame them though.” you immediately bit your tongue, you hadn’t meant to insinuate anything, but luckily harry thought nothing of what you’d said and shrugged, still visibly annoyed. it was also uncommon for you and harry to engage in any skinship whatsoever and, realising this, you quickly withdrew your hand from his shoulder, pretending to tuck a tuft of hair back behind your ear.

by the time you and harry were ready to leave for bed that night, you’d long been finished taking notes, but you enjoyed small talk with harry beside the candlelight, and he enjoyed it too. by habit of his escapist nature, he’d been enjoying your company more than anyone else’s for the past two or three weeks because there was nothing complicated to your friendship, and he never gave you any indication of struggling so you never asked. harry liked that. he had a feeling that you probably knew he had his personal impediments being “the chosen one”, but you accepted them blindly with a kind smile, and treated him indifferently. it was all very convenient and comfortable. he was also starting to consider the idea that you had very nice eyes too.

—

and the school year continued just like that. you and harry grew closer than ever; you revelled in eachother’s company; you spent your evenings together in the library; you spent your mornings together in the great hall revising. most crucially, you were best friends denying the presence of anything more because you were both too shy. harry also didn’t want to risk overcomplicating one of the few relationships in his life that took his mind off voldemort.

in his time away from you throughout the year, he continued to carry out dumbledore’s endeavours and courted slughorn into revealing his vices. in the month leading up to this, harry had been distancing himself from you. although he thought it better to keep you at arm’s length from his business with dumbledore, he hadn’t been intentionally trying to avoid you, he was just so very busy. he felt guilty nonetheless.

you took harry’s absence on the chin, you knew he dealt with a lot of things, things he didn’t disclose in casual conversations with you because that would spoil the light-heartedness of the time you spent together. you took it as an opportunity to resume the studies you’d fallen behind on, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit… lonely. you hadn’t been on your own like this since harry had called for you after that one potions lesson.

reminiscently, you opened your potions book on the notes you had taken when you were with harry, and smiled fondly. but then your heart sank. it wasn’t abnormal to miss your friends, but what you felt was beyond yearning, you just kept it hidden from harry and the other students, not that harry had the time to notice these days. at most, he managed a quick “hello” as he passed in and out of the common room, until one morning he had disappeared altogether.

you attended breakfast alone. you attended your first class of the day alone. you felt so miffed that you decided not to attend your defence against the dark art’s class, in fact you were truant for the rest of the school day. the fact that you hadn’t seen harry at all today worried you immensely, even when he was busy he was always loitering somewhere about the grounds. yesterday he’d returned from hagrid’s fairly late, you guessed that maybe he was tired and sleeping it off, but a dark hunch that you had implied otherwise.

that night, your intuition summoned you to the astronomy tower, one of few places you visited for undisrupted pondering. your chest felt clogged with an indescribable feeling, it felt almost like a sixth sense, or something similar to unease. the sky foreshadowed a storm, you felt it in the humid air too. usually you would feel lost without harry, but for some reason the fear inspired an unusual confidence in you, and you balled your hands into two determined fists as you stared out over the grounds. it all felt nostalgic, the sweep of grey trees in the distance reminded you of the life that had inhabited the school when you were a little girl. you couldn’t decide why you were crying exactly. maybe you missed harry. maybe you just hated being alone. you soaked it up with the sleeve of your school jumper and turned to leave, and you would have done if not for the indistinct sound of footsteps.

you took off down the stairs and uttered a soft “lumos” to your wand, illuminating a pair of blue eyes, but they weren’t harry’s. your eyes winced at the mop of silver-blonde hair infront of you. the male you recognised easily as malfoy pinned you suddenly to the wall with his forearm and despite looking fairly scrawny, his forearm was bigger than you anticipated - you couldn’t move.

“what are you doing up here”, he asked bluntly, yet whispered at the same time. malfoy’s clothes carried a smell that you likened to an old cupboard, or dusty furniture. he was someone that you knew to be unpleasant, due to harry’s recollection of their quarrellings, but you had exchanged few words with him during your time at school. you weren’t aware of harry’s extra-curricular activities, and even less aware of harry’s speculations about malfoy. your expressionless face mocked draco’s attempt to scare you, you raised a cocky eyebrow and retorted, repeating the same question he had asked you.

“it’s none of your business.” his voice quivered briefly, you recognised this as fear, but ignored it when you heard the sound of someone apparating into the castle, soon followed by the sound of harry’s voice. draco’s head turned almost as quickly as yours. his plans had not accommodated harry. it was hard to say who was more staggered by this. the inches between you and draco were quickly severed when the blonde boy pulled out his wand and took up the stairs. you immediately thought it best to stay hidden beneath the floorboards, you didn’t think harry would take kindly to finding out that you were there, even though it was highly unintentional, he liked to keep you separate from his dealings. plus, it was late. malfoy was joined by a few unrecognisable characters dressed anonymously in black, and snape. breath hitched, you crouched behind one of the pillars and eavesdropped on the conversation happening above you, and it didn’t take you long to understand that it wasn’t going to be a friendly encounter, however it sounded unlike any of the altercations harry had previously described to you. you knew malfoy to be a snobby, sneering sod, but you hadn’t thought of him as an accomplice until you heard snape strain “avada kedavra” discernibly above the conflict.

you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a staggered, gagging cry. you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. you supposed this is what grief felt like, but it had all happened so quickly, you’d hardly processed the events you’d just heard before you felt it curdle with rage in your gut. harry was long gone, judging by his outburst you assumed he was chasing after snape. before he fled after the teacher, harry’s tone had become unrecognisably cruel, a tone that had never occurred to you in all the years you’d known the bright boy. it made you shiver.

you could still hear malfoy’s discordant sobs on top of the tower, so you confronted him quickly, casting bereaved spells at him with your wand. if harry knew you were involving yourself…

it didn’t matter.

“STUPEFY!”

he looked reluctant to engage in this duel with you, but that didn’t stop him from disarming you. your wand flew from your hand and you inelegantly dived after it. malfoy dived after your wand, simultaneously, and as you both landed on the floor with a thud, you raised your palm to his pale cheek and slapped him. it was so harsh that you felt your palm stinging too, but the pain didn’t phase you as you wrestled your wand from the slytherin boy’s puny hand. flecks of spit from draco’s mouth landed on your face because he was gritting his teeth so angrily, he portrayed a level of fury you thought was impossible for a 16 year old boy to feel. he stopped resisting you, there was something heartbreakingly defeated about the cowardly slytherin. you led slumped against a pillar opposite him, panting in a deathly silence.

—

harry couldn’t hear anything, besides the sound of blood gushing in his ears and a slight pulse. he recalled how snape’s cloak had coiled back and swept over harry’s exhausted body before the gaunt-looking man accompanied a cloaked woman into the dark forest.

coward.

he knelt honourably beside dumbledore’s lifeless body, caressing the man’s silver beard with his fingertips. it was inconsolable, his pain. harry only knew loss. everybody that he held close seemed to die and slowly the amount of people that he could trust seemed to be growing smaller, and smaller. with every loss, he felt a small part of the excited 11 year old boy he once was die too. he was too young to feel this way, it was excruciating, but even though he felt this way, he remained nonchalant and concealed what few tears fell down his cheeks.

you stood with the rest of the grieving students, but you felt scared stepping forward to comfort harry, it had been a good few weeks since you had felt close to the boy. he had his back to the crowd, it confirmed the trauma you had only guessed at for years every time you looked into his shy, blue eyes across the classroom. your heart ached.

you waded quietly past the others students as they held their illuminated wands to the sky above and lowered to your knees beside harry, his eyes didn’t meet yours. all magic aside, your held your friends’ hand with a human understanding of his agony and set your wand aside, squeezing his hand weakly with what strength you had left. he was never very open about his trauma, but he didn’t need to be at that moment, you collected his soft, soft sobs in your shoulder as you pulled him in against your chest and held him. you could feel how badly he was hurting. you wished you could take it all away.

and you stayed there holding him late into the night, long after the other students had cleared and returned to their dormitories. professor mcgonagall stayed with dumbledore too.

—

two weeks had passed since dumbledore’s passing. your friendship with harry wasn’t quite the same. it was common knowledge that you had been there on the astronomy tower, you’d also told him about your brawl with malfoy. you didn’t talk about much else after airing that, harry was reluctant to talk about what had happened, mostly because it was too painful, but also because then he would have no choice but to accept the events as factual. that also meant accepting that hogwarts would never be the same, accepting that everything had irreversibly changed.

conversations were duller than ever. harry had become even more temperamental. you often heard him lashing out late at night, when he was alone in his dormitory, or heard his footsteps on the cold floor in the common room when he went to sit by the fire to relieve himself of a nightmare or a terror. you recognised them as harry’s footsteps because you too stayed awake all night, and noticed that you never heard his footsteps returning to bed, and often found him sat there the next morning staring bitterly into the fire wearing the same damp pyjamas that he had soaked that night.

one memorable night, you were pulled aside before bed by hermione granger. you knew she was one of harry’s best friends, though you’d never spoken to her. you hadn’t anything against her, and you hoped the feeling was mutual, even greater than that you hoped she didn’t sense you as a threat to her long-lasting friendship with him. you weren’t like that.

you pulled your dressing gown robe around your body and tied it at the front as she began to murmur, “i’m sure you know harry’s in an awful way.” you nodded silently. “he’s never been keen on relying on people, you know. the whole time i’ve known him i’ve never seen him ask somebody for help. except maybe dumbledore…” she trailed off cautiously, even she treated dumbledore as a delicate topic of conversation since he had passed away.

she pulled her curls back into a ponytail and frowned. “but i also don’t think he would be so against relying on you.” you couldn’t help but feel as though hermione was suggesting you hadn’t been there for harry as much as you could have been. perhaps you’d neglected him through fear of seeming like you were prying when all he really needed was for you to try and persist. get through to him. you also guessed at the very obvious hint hermione had dropped that sounded as though both you and harry had feelings for the other that were unspoken for. you thanked hermione sincerely, and rushed down to the common room in your nightwear. you didn’t have any socks on, the stone castle floor was freezing.

you knew harry would be down soon, he came and sat by the fire every night without fail. you sat there too, melting into the sofa, hoping it would eat you alive because the anxiety was gnawing away at you. what if harry snapped at you? told you you were being troublesome or bothering him? when you saw his face descend down from the stairs to the boy’s dormitories, you regretted your instinct to come downstairs entirely. harry didn’t look bothered yet though.

he sat beside you quietly and sighed, pulling the collar of his pyjamas shirt away from his neck. it was damp from where he had been sweating already. without much thought, you stopped his trembling hand from tugging at the fabric and held yours clasped over his before opening your mouth, “i’m sorry, harry.”

he didn’t say anything. he looked like someone who’d heard sorry too many times in the past two weeks.

“we used to have fun together…” you started, unsure of where you were actually going with this. “i’m not here to pity you, like most of the others. i do understand, you know. not quite as fully as you, i haven’t been through nearly as much, but when i see you crying, harry, i…”

you brought his hand down from his neck and held it firmly in your lap, “i can’t watch you in pain and-“ you breathed and reticent as you were said very plainly, “i don’t mean that as a friend either, harry.”

you met harry’s blue eyes. they seemed surprised, although you weren’t sure why. he was brilliant, you wish he saw that. not brilliant because he was “the chosen one”, or because he was somewhat of a celebrity, but because of how brave and exceedingly kind he was.

“i don’t understand, y/n.”

“yes, you do.”

harry knew he’d understood you as well. but he hadn’t expected your friendship to take so much of a dark turn so quickly, he wanted to keep you away from that. and he didn’t like you seeing the vulnerable side of him either, despite however pleasantly intimate it was to have you comfort him. maybe this was enough, though. maybe this was close enough.

you were sat inches from eachother on the sofa before the fire. but you were close enough that he could smell your perfume. it made him smile. it wasn’t a big smile at all, unlike the huge grins that practically stretched to his ears when he was a little boy. but it was a smile nevertheless. he also decided against fighting the urge to smile because your determination made you that much prettier.

eyes straying, harry made a confession of his own, “do you know what i could smell when slughorn took the lid off of the amortentia in potions?”

“what?”

“something a bit like honeysuckle”, he paused, smiling into the fire, “i didn’t recognise it until you held me two weeks ago. i’d never gotten close enough to notice that you smell like that.”

your mouth fell open slightly but conscious that you were catching flies, you quickly shut it and smile too. this conversation suddenly felt nice, unlike the tension that had been brewing between you previously. you felt warm again, just like you had done when you shared your evenings together in the library.

“i’ve liked you for a long time, harry, but i didn’t want you to think i was taking advantage of you.”

“why would i think that?” suddenly his bushy, black eyebrows were knotted together above his nose.

“all that talk of you being “the chosen one”, i didn’t want you to think that’s the only reason i took any interest. especially when you despised other girls for that very reason.”

he scoffed, you were right, those girls had been awfully annoying. he turned his head slightly, commanding a shy pink colour to creep into your cheeks. even when you and harry had been at your closest, you became bashful when he held eye contact with you, it felt very intense. without giving any thought to his actions, he cupped your face with one hand and brought you in for a kiss.

it was a very slow kiss, his thin lips slotted in gently against yours. you’d never contemplated what harry was like as a kisser but he exceeded all of the expectations. it was a nice feeling. warm. your pining hands reached for his pyjama shirt and tugged longingly at the fabric, not in a suggestive manner but as a means of saying that you had waited so long to feel harry surrender like this. it didn’t last for very long, he pulled away with a sigh and pressed his forehead to yours, glasses falling further down the slope of his nose. harry felt like a normal teenage boy and for a moment failed to remember that he was really a wizard and his life was really about to change for the worst now that dumbledore was gone and voldemort was back. you were still forehead-to-forehead, breathing florally against his mouth when he realised that soon he would have to confront his new reality.

for now, harry wanted to remain ignorant for a while longer.

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