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So flattered by this lovely art to my fanfiction 🥰
The illustration for NikaZabini's "Single Fathers".
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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 4!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!
Content warning: more blood! *Niffty’s manic laugh* i guess maybe some comfort this time (not from Lucifer lol) also more angst but a smidge bits of it, also LONGESTT CHAPTER YET and small implications of Season 1: Ep. 2 of Hazbin Hotel. (not proofread)
Synopsis: after waking up in hell, you try and find help of any kind.
Further note: I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER SMM U HAVE NO IDEA (sorry it took a while) ENJOY READING MORE THAN I ENJOYED WRITING I!!/! - ✨Lolo💫
Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 (you are here) ���<•)b ✧ Chapter 5
this chapters song is:
(optional but recommended to improve reading experience!!:!)
。・:*:・゚Lululuna・゚:。*:・。
“Lucifer, do you want to play with the stars with me?” You ask him, him turning to you and taking your hands into his, him looking at you with loving and caring eyes, you looking deeply into his as well, “I’d love to!” He says, dragging you to the oak tree you had agreed upon to be your hangout spot from now on.
You both rolled into the grass together, told stories at night and used magic to display your dreams of creations, everything was perfect, he was perfect, everything felt perfect.
“I never want to see you again,” He snapped, “And I fucking mean it.” He says as he looked at you with pure hatred in his eyes, oh those eyes, once full of love now full of hatred. Your heart began to beat harder as it ached, ‘this whole mess was your fault wasn’t it?’ you thought as your breath hitched, staring at those eyes he gave you, oh how you never wanted to see them again but here you were. You tried to breathe again but you just couldn’t, those eyes were staring deeply into your soul, you just couldn’t find a way to breathe as you began to hyperventilate, your body felt frozen in terror as you stared back into those careless, dull, hatred fueled eyes, breathe, breathe, breathe!
You sit up quickly, coughing out golden blood before gasping for air desperately, coughing out again before regaining your composure, groaning from the metallic taste in your mouth, you looked down at your hand to see the lavender blue star Emily gave you, seeing that was your only comfort now, it was stained in gold blood as well as you winced in sharp pain behind your back, you look at your back to see a lot of damage was done to your wings, golden blood covered all your feathers as you can see the clear cut Sera did, she attacked your two middle wings as they now seemed split, it made your skin crawl from how horrible they looked, you then looked up to the sky, your stars were barely raining anymore stardust, trying to heal your injured state, they began to fade, if it weren’t for the sentient stars you made during the extermination, you don’t think you would have survived the fall.
You looked at your stars with a tired and weak smile before they could crumble away into dust, thankful that your creations saved your life, you then looked at your surroundings, seeing cities in the distance, followed with screams and cars crashing, you sat for a moment trying to endure the pain that was coursing through your body, you held a wing to ease the pain but all you felt was a wet liquid that now covered your hands, more blood. You needed to find help or something but who in Hell would want to help? Maybe you could try and find a place to stay or hide so you could focus on healing yourself, you didn’t have any attributes to regeneration, so you needed to try and find someone or something to stop the bleedings.
You recovered a bit of mana from resting but it wasn’t enough for you to completely focus on healing since you weren’t very good at it, you decided to try and finally get up but your body was so sore you stumbled a few times before you could manage to even stand, you slouched to your side, limping as you tried to walk out of wherever you even were.
You decided to try and seek help in the city, hoping there might be a blessed heart willing to assist you but just a precaution, you made a little bit of stardust and with Emily’s star she had given you, you made it sentient with the little bit of mana you had left, thankful for her gift and her warm comforting smiles.
The little star chimed to life, floating around you, it was your only sort of defense it wasn’t much but it can for sure pack a punch you wanted it to, you hugged yourself as you limped toward the city, a trail of golden blood dripping behind you as your wings dragged behind you. The lavender blue star floating next to you calmly.
Upon entering the city, you expected monsters and sinners to be in chaos but… no one was here. “Hello?” You called softly, walking into the city, the emptiness making you feel uneasy, the star chimed next to you for comfort, floating around you as it kept watch of your surroundings, “Is anyone here?” You called out again more loudly, “please, can anyone help me?” you begged, not receiving a single answer in the abandoned city.
You held yourself more tightly as you walked, leaving a trail of gold as you looked around, high and low, left and right, you’d hear a sudden noise but it the source or cause would be long gone before you could turn around, I guess it only makes sense seeing as you were an angel and it was extermination day to them, the lonely and uncomfortable silence made you feel like an outcast, something you were used to in a way but it still hurt nonetheless, tears formed from your eyes but you tried to not let them escape from how lonely you felt in your situation and once again, you feel completely helpless as you walked down the empty streets, the silence was completely loud.
You wiped your tears as you passed by stores, broken glass and blood, it really showed a difference between Heaven and Hell, it made you wish you were back in your bed for all eternity, it was better than the pain your were enduring currently. You passed by a store full of televisions, you looked at it- it being the only thing that was making noise in the silent city, you watched the screens as it showed a thin waisted lady in red, her voice loud and clear, “Greetings, my name is Katy Killjoy, here to discuss to you about last weeks extermination, after deep analysis and investigating, we can officially confirm it was canceled thanks to an none other than an Angel itself!” She says before it showed a video of you making it rain stardust in stars in Hell’s skies, dragging every exterminator back into Heaven, your eyes widened as you didn’t expect to be shown to all of Hell.
“And thanks to that, we now have more information about how our deadline is cut in half, down to six months! do you know what that means Tom?” She says as she turned to face him, giving him the chance to finally speak, “yes it-“ “it means we are completely fucked!” she shouts through the screen, your mouth agape from shock, Adam and Sera- despite trying to stop them, they decided to continue this meaningless chaos? the thought of Sera ignoring your words, your voice, it made your blood boil unexplainably, especially on how she tried to kill you behind Heavens back.
You were so frustrated and in so much pain because of her, it made you want to cry and lash out at her angrily but trying to kill her back, the thought of killing her made a smile crawl to your face but you shook that thought out immediately, it was not the answer. If you tried to use violence like she did, you were no different than her and that’s worse than the thought of her death. You snapped out of thought to look at the television again, it was another video of you, of how you fell from the sky, you stared in shock again, they really have their eyes on the skies don’t they? It was you falling practically to your death! but that made you realize, oh- they evacuated the city because you arrived.
That alone, made you realize how lonely you are now, no one was going to help you, familiar feeling eh? history just doesn’t seem to stop repeating itself with you. Your head began to ache as your stomach grumbled, all that stamina you had used was getting to you for sure now but there was nothing you could do, you didn’t have food, shelter or any help, there was nothing here in this place of damnation for you. You were pathetically helpless, at rockbottom, completely.
You wiped the tears that escaped, your lavender blue star pressing against your cheek for comfort, it chimed to you, trying to tell you something, you gave it it’s attention, floating toward the window full of televisions, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where all sinners are welcomed and redeemed, if you want to escape the extermination and get up into Heaven, please head to the building on the top of the hill in the pride ring.” A White haired woman spoke, with other figures who stood there and a glitched out man who was facing away from the screen which was quite concerning- but that wasn’t important, what was important was that they were willing to help and once again, that small sliver of hope reignited in you as you smiled to yourself weakly, you just had to go find that hotel, if they didn’t accept you then… maybe you could just live in a box? that thought made you shudder, not the box but the fact you would be out of luck.
You tried to find the hotel, quickly limping down the streets as you tried to find that said hotel, “Can you help me find it?” You ask your star as it chimed, swiftly floating up in the air, looking around, it wasn’t long before it went back down to you and started guiding you as followed, gold blood still following behind you, you tried your best to keep it together, try to make it to the hotel, it wasn’t much long as you panted heavily up the hill, once upon making it, you collapsed in exhaustion and pain, you sat at the door for a moment to recollect yourself.
It took awhile but the sentient star waited with you patiently and that was enough for you to get back up on your feet, you took a deep breath before knocking, stepping back from the door, hugging yourself in anticipation, shaking a little from exhaustion.
The door opened and you saw a tall blonde female, she looked down and gasped in surprise, “Welcome!- oh- oh my gosh, are you alright?” she says quickly, cutting her introduction off after seeing your terrible state, “Is… this the Hazbin hotel?” you ask politely and kinda desperately, “Yes, yes this is! do you need uh, do you need to come in for a moment? theres a trail of blood coming from you.” She pointed out with concern, “please.” You say weakly and nervously to the stranger in front of you, feeling completely light headed from the blood loss, you felt like you were going to faint any second.
“Oh goodness, just sit here for me okay? I’ll go get something real quick-“ she stammers before running back inside after making you sit and lean on to the door, you waited as you heard the same voice shout “Vaggie!” and “Emergency!” You rested your eyes as you leaned your head against the door, you began to hear static, and it got only louder the longer you had your eyes shut but as soon you opened your eyes the static disappeared, ‘that was weird’ you thought as the tall lady came back and immediately tended to your wounds with another person behind her, you backed away when the blonde tried to touch you, “Oh don’t worry, i’m just trying to help.” She says as she waited for your permission this time to tend to you, her smile was oddly calming and it let you give in as you slowly turned your back, allowing her to touch your wings, the purple female also assisting her, you winced in pain after some places they touched, a “sorry” escaping one of their mouths as they kept going, you all were silent the whole time before the blonde moved to sit in front of you, leaving the other lady to focus on your wings.
“My name is Charlie.” She smiled at you, reaching her hand out for you to shake, you looked up to her, her red eyes staring back at you, “Y/n.” You say as you took her hand to shake, “Nice to meet you, Y/n! Now if I may ask, why were you so injured?” She asked, you looking away, “Oh uhhh, I fell..?” You say not tell her the full truth, she tilted her head confused, “fell? fell from where?” she said confused, “Uhhmm, fromm.. Heaven?” You laughed coyly, as she gasped, “You’re fallen?” She says quietly, “I guess,” pausing now acknowledging that you were actually fallen now, “yeah, I guess so.” you finished, feeling a little ashamed.
“Vaggie, are you almost done?” Charlie asks as she looks over your side to see that she wrapped your last wing up, a tug was felt and you winced a bit, “Yup, finished.” She says after she tied the last knot, Charlie bend down to help Vaggie up before they both helped you up, “Thank you.. for helping me.” You say with a tired smile, your star bouncing on your head, “Oh who’s this little guy?” Charlie says pointing to the star that chimed, “Oh this one of my creations or like a child of mine, same thing.” You say as you put the star in your hand, “I could only make this one sentient because im so tired.” You say, your eyes obviously showed that to them, black circles and all, “Well we can give you a place to stay in the Hotel!” Charlie smiles as she walks in the building, you following after Vaggie but as soon as you stepped into the building, your exhaustion you endured collapsed all at once, making your face plant into the ground with a ‘plomp’
The stared at you in surprise, “Oh, she was that tired.” Charlie responds, walking up to you, “are you alright?” she asks as you just muffled a reply, “foof.” “Uh, what was that?” Charlie asks, turning you to the side, “food.” you say, falling back into place, “Oh, okay just one sec.” She says before getting up to running off, leaving Vaggie to watch over you, she crossed her arms as she stared at you, “So uhh, who’s dis?” A new voice spoke, “Fallen angel, probably same one from the extermination on the news.” Vaggie replied as someone spat out their drink of something, you didn’t bother to get up to look up who was talking, too tired to care, “the hell you mean the angel from da news?” the voice shouted as you heard something rapidly approaching your body but your tiny star pushed them back, launching whatever was going after you, “That thing just launched Niff across the parlor! why are you allowing angels into this place?” The voice shouts again, “Angel, look at her, she’s defenseless, well, except that thing.” she pointed to your star.
Your star stuck to your back, trying to move you but it ended up just dragging you across the floor as everyone silently stared, “Okay i’m back!” Charlie says with a plate of food, walking to you and giving it to you after your star dropped you to the floor again.
You raised your head, resting your arms as you ate on the floor, not caring who’s watching, she also gave you water and that made you feel all the more better, with something finally in your system you managed to sit up, looking up at your surroundings, seeing everyone stare at you in silence, “uhh, hi.” you say awkwardly, with a small wave, as one of then waved back at you.
“Are you feeling alright now?” Charlie asked as you nodded, “Yeah, I just really need to rest, if you would let me please?” You ask as she gave you a hand to help you up, you thanked her as you tried to pat down your tattered dress, it was completely stained with blood from sinners during the extermination and your own as well, “Maybe let’s get you cleaned up?” Charlie asks as she took your hand to help you up the stairs, Vaggie following, “We can introduce you to everyone else once you’ve recovered.” She offers as she guides you down a hall, taking you to a room that was themed with red and black, “you can rest here,” she says as she walks into the room, you following suit along with your star.
You sat on the bed before falling back into it, your sore body finally feeling that euphoric comfort of a bed for who knows how long, your small lavender blue star rested on your head as you stretched a little, feeling your muscles ache, it hurt so bad it felt so good, “Do you need spare clothing or anything?” Charlie asks, Vaggie standing at the front of the door to the room, “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” You say shyly, sitting up again, you weren’t used to such hospitality, “thank you.” You say genuinely, extremely grateful that you found this place in this upside down world, “It’s no problem, you just get some rest alright? Vaggie can you go get something from my dresser?” She says, Vaggie nodding and leaving the room.
“So, can you tell me what happened? about why you’re here perhaps?” She questions, trying to start a conversation in the meantime, waiting for Vaggie to return, “Oh.. that..” you say looking down, away from her gaze, “oh! you don’t have to tell me anything if you want to,” she says, seeing how your expression has changed, “no, its just- it’s kind of a lot? I’ll just cut it short.” You smile at her, waving off her sudden intrusion of a question, “long story short, I asked for for a job and my, err, ‘manager’ gave me one,” you say scratching your cheek, the thought of Sera made you itch, “it was the extermination and I was so shocked on how Heaven was allowing the people to slaughter, so I used up so much of my power to drag every exorcist back to Heaven, leaving a bit of healing, hoping some sinners would recover,” You say as you as you rub your shoulder, still feeling guilty about the lives you witnessed being lost from the angels attack, “I’m really sorry about that by the way,” you apologized on behalf of the angels, “I tried to talk to my leader and it just got.. messy.” you sigh, Vaggie walking back to the room with clothes in hand, Charlie held your hand into her own, making you look up her, her comforting and sympathetic smile made you feel at ease from your riled up stress and tension, “hey, its alright,” she says, trying to soothe your nerves, “i’m just surprised an angel actually went out of their way to stop the extermination, it’s a complete first for anyone in hell to witness,” She smiles again, “i’m really glad you did, it shows that maybe not all angels are as bad as they seem.” she finishes, Vaggie walking up to you both giving, putting the clothes next to you, on the bed.
Charlie stood up, taking Vaggie’s hand into hers, “We’ll leave you alone for now, feel free to join us when you’re ready.” she waves as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
You got up from the bed after she left the room, changing out of your tattered dress and robes, the clothes they gave you were kind of big on you, the shirt was maybe too big, it was like a short night gown on you but you weren’t complaining since it was comfortable, the pants didn’t even fit so you tossed them to the side along with your tattered dress, wanting to deal with it later, you jumped into the bed, sighing in relief again, you laid on your stomach as you hugged the the fluffy pillow, the coolness of the sheets making you feel relaxed, best feeling ever.
Your star chimed as it floated off your head again, it was telling you it was going to keep watch as you slept, that was enough for you as you quickly drifted off to sleep, hugging the pillow as comfort.
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
“look at that one, it looks like a duck!” Lucifer says under the oak tree, pointing to the clouds that drifted by, “Yeah, it does!” You say in awe, “that’s cause I made it be.” he giggles, showing you his pure golden light in his hands, you admired it as you giggled as well.
He laid in the grass as he continued to stare at the sky, his smile was so pure and full of life, “I’m so glad you came into my life, Luna.” He says before looking at you with adoration in his eyes, you stared back at him with a sparkle in your eyes, sitting up next to him, “everyone in my life thinks i’m a problem and avoids me cause of that,” he vents, looking back up at the blue sky, “and ever since you came along, everything just feels so… right.” he smiles, as you continued to stare at him with doe eyes, “I don’t think I could ask for anyone better, you are the first person to believe in me and my dreams for so long and I don’t think I want to lose you,” he says, sitting up and looking back at you, taking your hands into his own, “ever.”
You smiled at him comfortingly, “I don’t want to lose you either, Lulu.” you say as you look back into his eyes, you both stared into each other’s eyes, the silence between you was calm and comforting, “hey I know!” he says, brightening more from an idea, “lets make a promise,” he says, leaning closer to your face, “let’s promise each other that no matter what happens, we will stay together, we will help each other out in the time of need.” he says, pulling out hand in front of you, his pinky finger out, waiting for you to intertwine your finger with his.
You look down at his hand, back to him, you smiled more, “okay, I pinky promise.” you say as you brought your pinky out to hold into his, you both stared at each other with admiration for one another before he quickly pecked your forehead, leaving a warm kiss, your eyes widening in surprise at the sudden gesture, “I love you, my Luna.” he says, you felt your face heat up as he gave you a closed eyed smile, it became silent for a moment again before you spoke, “what’s a love?” you ask, breaking the silence as he looked at you bewildered, going back to smiling at you gently, “maybe one day, you’ll understand.”
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
Your eyes fluttered open, as you groaned from a nights rest, you laid there for a moment before sitting up, groaning from the soreness in your body, you rubbed your eyes as you looked around, beginning to remember where you were. Upon waking up, your lavender blue star chimed as you awoke, happy to see you awake, you put your hands together for your star to rest in your hands, “oh, hey there,” you smiled tiredly, as it floated down into your hand, your used a bit of your mana to make cosmic dust, feeding the little star as it began to glow brightly again, after feeding it, it went to rest on your hair, seeing as your aren’t completely defenseless anymore.
You say in the bed looking around again before turning to your dress, it wasn’t filthy or dirty anymore, it looked clean and new, curious, you shifted out of the bed and went to collect it, they must have cleaned this for you while you were resting, you smiled, thankful for that, seeing as walking around in a shirt and undergarments in public was rather… explicit and embarrassing.
You turned around in the, realizing there was another door in your room, you went to open it curiously, behind the door was a sink and a tub, a personal bathroom, you smiled about that, you can take a bath without any worries now. You went into the bathroom, locking the door, deciding to take the chance to clean the blood and grime that stained your body. You sat on the hem of the tub, your clothes and bandages discarded, you were now scrubbing yourself clean, trying to avoid your wings soaking into the water, after cleaning your body, you focused on your wings, trying your best to not make them sting in pain as much as they already did in the contact with water, you washed them carefully and delicately.
After your relaxing bath, you changed your set of clothes, careful to not hurt your wings that looked like an absolute mess, the feathers were everywhere but you didn’t really bother with them, you’d groom your wings when they were healed up enough, with that thought out of the way, you went to leave the room, walking past a dresser with a mirror, you halted for a moment, stepping back and looking at the glass, your reflection showing, your hair was absolutely frizzled, your eyes were covered with black circles, like you just put black eyeliner around your eyes, you looked like an absolute mess and thing is, you were, emotionally and physically.
You saw a brush on the dresser, you decided to try and brush your hair, trying to look a little more presentable, a small chair sat underneath the dresser, pulling it put to sit down, focusing on your tangles.
You sat the brush down, looking at your now somewhat more clean state, there was nothing to do about the bags under your eyes, so you would just have to let that go, you got up from the chair, pushing it back under the dresser and walking to the door, exiting the room.
You explored the vast empty halls, taking in the details the hotel had, heading down the hall to the lobby, recalling that Charlie said you could join them anytime when you were ready, when you turned the corner, you saw some of the demons gathered in the corner of the lobby, you stood there quietly observing the people who were doing their own things, after scanning around the room, you saw Charlie talking to Vaggie in the parlor, on a sofa, it wasn’t long before Charlie spotted you as well and waved, “Over here, Y/n!” she calls to you, getting up to walk toward you to the stairs, you smiled nervously as everyone’s attention turned to you as you walked down the said stairs.
“How are you feeling?” she asks after you took your last step down, “I’m feeling much better, thank you,” You replied with sincerity, “and thank you for your hospitality.” You say as you bowed a little in respect, “just to make sure,” a male voice spoke as you turned away from Charlie’s to follow the voice, “you ain’t here to kill us right?” a tall feminine male asks, approaching you. You were taken back by his question but it made sense for them to worry, seeing as angels were sent to slaughter the poor souls, “what? no, i’d never-“ you tried to explain, being cut off quickly, “seeing on the news, she was the one who stopped the extermination, I don’t think those are her ideals, Angel.” Vaggie deadpanned to him, defending you.
Charlie laughed awkwardly, “Before we go into details any questions or details, how about a few introductions?” She asks, seeing how the atmosphere quickly turned, she guided you to the parlor, calling everyone to gather around, “Okay, so we have a new uhh,” she pauses trying to think, “guest at the hotel,” She says pointing her hand toward you, you waving shyly, “This is y/n, she arrived here yesterday as we all know and saw but welcome her nonetheless.” she smiles, only you getting stares and glances, “And these are our staff and residents,” she says, showing you the other three that were there, “this is Husk! our bartender,” she pointed to a cat with wings, who only stared at the distance, unfazed, “this is Angel, who is our single resident aside from you,” she says, pointing to the tall male who only scrolled through his phone before smiling and waving at you, “this is Niffty.” she says, pointing to a short woman with one eye who was staring into your soul, she ran up to you quickly, “are you an actual angel? why do you have so many wings? do you casually just wear eyeliner like that?” she says, pointing out your darkened eye bags, intruding your space, you only smiled nervously at her, she was asking to many questions before you could answer them, “and lastly, this is Alastor,” she says as you look at a man covered in red she pointed at, you were surprised about the male since you hadn’t seen him at all until now, he looked at you with an intimidating and intense gaze, smiling at you, making you feel uncomfortable, “he is our facility host.” She says, clasping her hands together with a smile.
Alastor walked up to you with a cane and his hands behind his back before bending down slightly to greet you properly, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear.” He says, stretching his hand out for you to shake, his hands had red sharp like claws making you hesitatingly take it with a nervous smile, “pleasure..” you say, shaking his hand lightly, you got more nervous than before when you began to hear radio static coming from him, the same static you heard when you first arrived here.
“With that out of the way, I was wondering- since you’re an angel and all- what do you think about sinners and redemption?” Charlie asked as Alastor backed away, trailing off to do his own thing as Charlie began to speak to you again, “what do you mean?” you asked curiously, requesting she’d go into more detail, “Well as you see, I began this project a few days ago,” she says, sitting next to you, summoning a pile of paper before taking one in her hand to show you hand-made drawings.
“What I want is to save my people and I thought maybe if they were given a second chance they could be redeemed and go to Heaven,” she says as she points to the drawing but your mind trailed off as soon as she said, ‘my people’ “wait- wait-“ you tried to cut her off, “your people?” you asked, “uhh, yeah?” she answered, confused about your reaction, you then stared at her, noticing her facial features, red cheeks, white skin and blonde hair… Your heart began to twinge a little from the thoughts that began to bubble your mind, “What’s your name..?” You ask, hesitatingly, afraid to find your suspicions might be correct. “Charlie… Morningstar.” she answers, putting down the drawing to respond, your eyes widened as you leaned back from her for a moment before leaning toward her, “You’re Lucifer’s daughter?!” you shouted completely shocked and somewhat… hurt? You felt a pain that couldn’t be explained in your stomach.
“Yeah, my parents are Lilith and Lucifer Morningstar,” she states, answering the truth you tried to avoid for so long, you were just lost in thought as she began to ramble about then both, “and that is why they call me the princess of hell- oh, are you alright?” Charlie asks genuinely, seeing the hurt expression on your face, you snapped out of your thoughts as you shook your head, putting up a facade, “huh? yeah- yeah, I was just surprised, sorry.” you tried to exclaim, “I was just not told about any of this is all, y’know? since being in Heaven and all?” you tried to excuse, not really convincing yourself, Alastor gave a side eye to you, interested on how you were baffled from the mention of Charlie and her parents, “Where are,” you trailed off, hesitating to finish your next question, “your parents?” you asked, nervously.
Charlie looked away from you, thinking momentarily before speaking, “My mother has been gone for quite a while,” she says as she looks back at you with a tinge of sadness in her eyes, “she’s only been gone for like.. seven years now? but i believe she’s off on some sort of business trip,” She says as she tried to smile and wave it off like it wasn’t a big deal, “and my father… we don’t talk much.” she says as she hugs her arm, rubbing it slightly and awkwardly at the topic of her parents but to you, knowing that they don’t have much contact, it all just put your nerves at ease, you don’t think you could handle randomly seeing either of those two… ever.
You sighed, regaining composure, “sorry if I intruded on your personal life,” you apologize, looking at Charlie, “I uhm,” you paused, thinking if you should tell her anything about you, “you see, I used to be best friends with Lucifer,” you smiled, “and I am just happy to know that he’s alright.” You say with a half lie, you weren’t happy about him and Lilith, you never were and you never wanted to let him go like you did, like you had to.
Charlie smiled from surprise, “wait, are you Luna?” she asks, the name being said in so long, you felt rather uncomfortable with it, “I don’t really go by that name anymore but yes, I used to be..” You admit, trying to avoid saying the name yourself as it became more of a haunting of the past. She jumped in her seat on the sofa with a radiated smile, “my father told me so many stories about you when I was younger!” she says as she began to shake in happiness, “it’s so nice to meet you! I didn’t even know it was you!” she continues as she shook your hand suddenly, surprising you with her sudden enthusiasm, “he told me how you’re the daughter of the universe, the way you make stars and constellations align,” she began to ramble, “he even told me about the stars you make are always and are more beautiful than any other angel would ever create.” She smiles as she leaned in toward you with admiration.
You sat there with mixed feelings again, Lucifer said all this about you? the compliments she stated out made your heart flutter and you didn’t know why, surely he’d hate you by now after everything you did? the thoughts began to stress your mind and you just didn’t want to deal with them, you look down at the desk and remembered Charlies hotel project, so you decided it was best to change the subject, “I’m glad he seems to see me that way,” you smiled, “but how about you tell me about your project? I think we trailed off.” You stated, pointing to her drawings, she gasped as she picked up her paper drawing again, “that’s right! as I was saying before, I was thinking of maybe we could try and redeem sinners and try to bring them to Heaven! that way we can stop overpopulation in Hell,” she continued as you listened, taking a liking to her idea, “and if we find a solution to the overpopulation,” she says, bringing up another paper for you to see, “we can end all these exterminations and everyone will be smiling and happy!” she finishes as you smiled to her ideals, “So what do you think?” she asks as she puts down the drawing and looked at you eagerly awaiting your answer, “I actually think this is a great idea!” you say as you sit up in your seat eagerly, loving the idea of second chances, Charlie smiled more at your response as she squeed in excitement, having an angel finally agree on her passion project, “I’m so happy you believe in my cause!” she shouted in happiness, Vaggie smiling that someone else agreed who was the same as her.
“I was so upset when I found out extermination was allowed, it’s completely terrible as a whole.” you say as you leaned back into the sofa in distaste for the thought of ‘divine judgment’ amongst Charlie’s people, “So do I! None of them deserved what was given to them.” she says as she frowns, “I agree,” You say empathetically, “If you would let me, I’d like to stay and help with your cause.” You offered, Charlie smiling once again, “Really?” She asked with pure joy, “Yeah! I believe this could work!” You say with full confidence.
This made Alastor raise a brow at you and Charlie as he subtly listened in your whole conversation, he turned away with a ‘hmm’ as he thought to himself, he then shadowed up behind the sofa you and Charlie sat, nudging Vaggie away a little, “So we have a new staff member now?” Alastor smiled, Vaggie rolling her eyes at Alastor and walking around the sofa to sit next to Charlie, you blinked at him in surprised from his sudden join in on the conversation, “Yes we do!” Charlie says as she sat up, to gain everyone’s attention to announce you were now part of the crew, “everyone, everyone, I’d like to announce that we have a new staff member on our team!” She says as she points to you, they weren’t very enthusiastic as you had expected but not really expected them to but it really didn’t bother you since you preferred to avoid attention. Not to mention that Alastor had left the lobby before Charlie even began.
“We can discuss what you can do later,” Charlie says to you, before heading toward the middle of the lobby to pace around, “right now, what we need to do is discuss how we can try and bring sinners in,“ she began as Husk walked off to the green creepy area at the back of the lobby, drinking whatever green glass he held, “extermination is coming in six months instead of a year, it’s no big deal, just a little set back,” she says as a cat appears and follows her before jumping over to the sofa to sit next to you, you stared at it in surprise as it tilted it’s head at you, blinking its one eye and all you could process in your mind is- oh my stars its so cute.
You stared at the cat as it walked further to you, you didn’t want to move to touch it, afraid it might run off, she sat right next to you, you hesitated to pet it but it leaned into your touch and you never felt so much serotonin fill your body all at once, you pet her head gently as the kitty purred and you were squealing on the inside as you continued to pet her. You picked up the black cat, carrying her in your arms as you walked toward Charlie and Vaggie, “don’t you think if the next extermination deadline is sooner than expected, wouldn’t sinners be desperate?” you asked, while petting the cat in your arms, “yeah,” Vaggie thought, “maybe desperate enough to try and do anything to escape the extermination.” Vaggie spoke with a smile appearing on her face making Charlie gasp, getting the idea she was leading on, “this is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!” she shouted, raising her arms in the air, you smiling as you thought the same as well, only to frown when the kitty jumped out your arms, feeling the world shatter again inside your soul.
“Cute idea and all,” Angel says, tapping through his phone, “but you really going to go out in all of this?” He asks, showing a video of demons screaming through the city with fire everywhere, “well, it’s not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep-“ she says before being cut off from a loud explosion, making you jolt in surprise, hiding behind Charlie and Vaggie.
Everyone ran outside to see what the ruckus was about, you following last, you weren’t sure what to expect being new in Hell and all but when you saw outside was a massive war machine and Alastor at the top of one of the hotels balcony, talking with the attacker who damaged one of the hotels walls.
Well, needless to say, your ‘first day’ in Hell was going to be quite the ride to your new step in your new fallen life but you couldn’t complain, it was much more freeing than it ever was in Heaven.
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
TAGGLISSSTT YIPEEE:
@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1 @darling-may-i @pink-apples001 @sparkleyfishies @mollzaj @glowymxxn @hyperkaiperrose
thank you for reading!!:!/!
AMERICA YA :D
#lululuna#Spotify#lucifer morningstar#character x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#character x oc#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#character x y/n#character x you#lucifer x reader angst#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader slow burn#slow burn#SO SLOW THAT IT BURNS
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i literally loved the tattoo artist!sirius fic you wrote it was literally pure gold!!
if you take requests could i request a James Potter x reader where reader works at the record store and he is a regular— some romance after a while of the two exchanging small talk :3 thought that would be cute!
ill just put 🐙anon whenever i make a request
i. flirt
james potter/gn!reader
thank you so much for your request! and i’m glad you enjoyed my sirius fic. i might write a second part if it is asked for ♥️ (1.3k)
caution. flirty (cringy) james, reader is nervously whipped(?), bastard cat, uncreative title, so many music references, i’ve never written for james before as he is to me the most challenging marauder to write for, i hope that i haven’t butchered his character.
i’m new to the marauders fandom and have limited knowledge, sorry for any character inaccuracies.
THREE hours and twenty-five minutes have passed since you first clocked in.
For roughly two of the three hours, you spent stacking shelves with cassette tapes and lining racks with ageing vinyls. It wasn’t a challenging job; you’d prefer it to anything else, but that doesn’t make the work any less tedious.
You’re more than grateful that the manager of Blackbird Records is not a cruel one. He allows any type of music to your liking, and fortunately he hasn’t insisted on a Christmas carol mandate until late November.
Glenn Frey’s smooth croon of lyric sounds out in the store, and you hum along to the words. It’s mostly empty inside; a handful of customers are dotted around, shuffling through the record bins. A young girl with messy copper-coloured pigtails lurks near one of the clearance bins at the end of an aisle; you pretend to not notice as she pockets a lone cassette tape with a sly grin—she has good taste after all.
Angus, the fat ginger cat of the store, sits to your left. He is a favourite among customers, and his picture even rests beneath the “Employee of the Month” plaque. He is lazy, though; he doesn’t even give you a piece of his mind when you attempt to push his sleepy form off the till during busy hours. He likes lying in the sun, so you are kind enough not to bother him right now.
The entrance doorbell chimes, and somehow, without even looking up, you know who just walked through.
James, though he insists you call him Jamie, has been a regular at Blackbird for quite some time now. And for the last few months, he has been trying to convince you to at least go on one date with him.
He’s nice about it, which you’re grateful for; he isn’t pushy or demanding; it’s really just casual flirting. Every time he comes up to the register to purchase his chosen items, he manages to throw in a cheesy pick-up line. On each occasion he does so, you either grimace in embarrassment or your face happens to heat up.
Sometimes he comes into the store with his mates; they laugh at him when the amorous quips clearly don’t woo you.
James clicks his finger in your direction and winks as he struts past you. He looks nice today, in dark denim jeans and a red polo jersey, much too big for his frame.
With a subtle glance, you watch as he flicks through the LPs that sit inside a storage bin. His supple fingers are adorned with silver and gold rings; you can’t help but admire the flex of the veins in his hands as he skims over the albums.
You retreat your gaze quickly as he turns his head in your direction, how humiliating it would be if he had caught you essentially checking him out. From what you knew about him, which was a limited amount of knowledge, as the only time you see him is during your midday shifts, James was a playful type.
Once you had thought that you’d recognised one of his friends sitting at the same table as you during your psychology class, but he wasn’t exactly discernible. He was quiet and kept his head down for most of the class, but that tweed grey and navy sweater he had on (something you think your grandfather would wear) was too familiar.
James moves on to the listening station now, where the staff picks are located. He turns one of the record player dials and shifts a pair of battered headphones atop his mess of curls. You busy yourself with caressing Angus’ patchy fur as James nods his head along to the running track.
The one-eyed cat observes you with an astute gaze, like he knows exactly what you are thinking. You stare back at him, matching his gaze with equal telling—furrowing your brows to intimidate him. Obviously that does not work, and the beast just looks at you as if you were a fool (he’s right).
The sound of someone clearing their throat breaks you out of the staring contest shared with the cat, and you plaster on your customer service facade with grace.
James stands in front of you now, bronze skin gleaming in the sunlight. God, there was truly no reason to disagree with the fact that he was a cut above the rest. His eyes, chestnut in theory but hazel in the sun, eyed you with a playful look.
You stutter out a quick “Hello” and ask, “Did you find everything alright today?” As he places an album onto the counter. The Clash’s Sandinista!—your staff pick. He had listened to your pick of the week and is purchasing it.
He laughs with a small nod and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, eyes not leaving yours as he does so. You smile politely in return and move to scan his item; your hands are shaking.
Under his gaze, you can’t help but grow self-conscious. He has pretty eyes; there's no denying that, but they are especially heavy on your form today, and you don’t know why. Was the Beatles shirt a no-go for today? You work at a record store; musician-based articles of clothing are practically compulsory.
Despite that, you choose to ignore any building thoughts in your mind and read him the price owed. He complies with a more-than-friendly smile and hands you the exact number of bills. In an amicable—or rather teasing—manner, you bid him farewell.
For a brief moment you think he looks almost dejected, that once again you have rejected his kind-hearted attitude. That idea is quickly erased as James puffs out his chest and clears his throat once more.
“Hey—Do you live on Abbey Road? Because you got me crossing the street just to be near you!”
Oh god.
You see James again on one of your closing shifts. He saddles himself up beside the wall as you finish stacking a shelf with CD albums. His arm rests right in front of your face, and you try not to urge forwards.
“Can I help you?”
“Sure can. You, me, local pub. My mates are in a band and are performing there on Friday, think you’ll like them.” He states, voice like honey. It’s true, you probably would enjoy watching a local band perform, but you doubt you’d even be able to be calm in such a situation. Hours, if anything, spent in an enclosed, stuffy area with James? Your heart would burst right out of your chest.
As he awaits your answer, James grabs onto each CD you place down and flips it around on the shelf. You say nothing as you repeat the action; neither does he. You doubt you’ve ever met someone so annoying, yet beautiful at the same time.
“Come on—I’m dying over here.” He gasps dramatically, dragging his fist across his chest as he jokingly heaves out a final breath before sliding down to the floor. You can’t help but laugh as he does so, removing yourself from the task at hand to peer at him with a small smile. You can already feel the judgmental gaze of Angus before you even speak.
“Fine, fine! I finish at half five on Friday; now will you get up off the floor? It’s grimy.” He quickly does so at that declaration and looks with hopeful eyes. James places his hands on your shoulders and grips them lightly; it leaves you breathless. “Seriously? You’re being honest this time?”.
With a laugh, you grab a hold of his hands from where they rest on your shoulders. “Yes, will you pick me up?”
“Obviously, here, half five.” He lilted before turning away and skipping over to the front door, “You won’t regret this, I promise!”
You hope that you won’t.
authors note. my first request, thank you again and i hope it was to your liking 🫶🏻 please feel free to request anything else! this is my fandom/character list and I’ll practically write anything so long as it inspires me to do so.
#mine#🐙 anon#requested#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfic#marauders fanfiction#marauders x reader#the marauders x reader#marauders oneshot#marauders fic#marauders imagine#the marauders#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter universe#marauders era
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Consolidated HL Character Profile #1:
— Ominis Gaunt —
Note: The following information on this post are a combination of my personal headcanons and canon-compliant resources. I have done research on this but, of course, these are pure speculation since we do not have actual canon information about this character. I hope you all enjoy this! 💕
Tags and shout-outs are at the end of this post!
This is a very, very long post! Take your time.
—---—---—---—---—
I. Possible Birth Place
The last of the Gaunts, as we know it, have lived in poverty. The members of this once noble house trickled down to Marvolo Gaunt and his two children — Merope and Morfin.
According to the book, (Half-Blood Prince; Chapter 10, "The House of Gaunt") the family was living in a rundown shack that Harry Potter wondered whether it was inhabited, or not.
"... its walls were mossy and so many tiles had fallen off the roof that the rafters were visible in places. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows, which were tiny and thick with grime."
The description of the Gaunts' living conditions were shown during Bob Ogden's visit in Little Hangleton around the early 1920's. As the wiki suggests, Ominis should already be in his late 40's (and close to his supposed death). It was also said that due to their vein of instability, arrogance, and pride, the family gold has been squandered well before the last generations were born.
Now, based on the canon timeline, there is a high chance that Ominis and Marvolo were siblings — something this fandom seems to agree on.
"Chronologically, Marvolo Gaunt could be one of the elder siblings who tortured Ominis with the Cruciatus Curse."
However, I personally find it hard to picture him having been born and raised in that same shack in Little Hangleton. While it's very possible to have a family living together in a small, decrepit house, it seems like there are more than four members of the second-to-the-last generation of Gaunts.
Ominis had both parents present, his Aunt Noctua, and older siblings (one of which could be Marvolo himself). That would be at least five family members living under one roof. I just find it a little difficult to believe that someone who is as kempt and posh-looking as Ominis would be living in a shack.
Also, he seems to be the least-favorite child based on how his parents and siblings have treated him. So, why would he have neat school robes if they couldn't really afford it, right? And why give the good clothes to the blind, black-sheep of the family?
This led me to think that maybe, they did have some money to spare during those times. Another accepted headcanon of the fandom is that the Gaunts needed to keep up with the façade that they are still rich and prominent by dressing up aristocratically and by speaking in a posh accent (which is called Received Pronunciation, also called the Queen's Accent).
Furthermore, we literally almost got the Gaunt Manor questline, with a courtyard, in the game but the developers cancelled it. This could be the proof that they have also thought of the fact that Ominis did not grow up, nor was he born, in a dilapidated shack.
—
But wait!
How and where did I start pinpointing the Gaunts' possible ancestral origins? Well, I found a theorized Timeline of Salazar Slytherin's Descendants compiled and analyzed by Obversa (whom I am a long-time fan of, and usual source of information). Please take a moment to check this part out:
[This is the Reddit link to the whole post!]
—
So... where do we start with Ominis' theoretical birth place? I have attached a map that is highlighted in different colors to make it easier to understand.
1. Derbyshire or Nottinghamshire (Highlighted in blue)
Situated at the center of the English map, one of the possible birthplaces of Ominis Gaunt is either Derbyshire or Nottinghamshire.
We know that the Gaunts were descendants of Cadmus Peverell, the original owner of the Resurrection Stone (a.k.a. The Heirloom Gaunt Ring). So, I got to trace back the origins of the last name Peverell, where they're from and which period they came to be.
According to House of Names, the Peverell line is one of the thousand new names that the Norman Conquest brought to England in the year 1066 CE.
William Peverell, the "natural son of William the Conqueror," received his share of 162 manors; many of which were in these two counties.
As stated from the pictured timeline above, Cadmus Peverell had been born at around the year 1214 CE.
A hundred and sixty-two manors under the Peverell family name alone seem like it's a possibility that the three Peverell brothers (Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus) inherited at least one of these manors as part of familial land distribution.
And once again, citing the timeline above, the Peverell line (at least in Cadmus' side) possibly ended with a female; who married a male Gaunt. It's likely that they moved to one of these manors as a start of the foundation of the House of Gaunt.
— An example in Derbyshire:
— An example in Nottinghamshire:
These two examples look like Gaunt Manor style, in my opinion. So far, I'm highly convinced that it's either Derbyshire or Nottinghamshire due to the manors being quite sequestered from city propers and large, populated towns.
2. Yorkshire (Encircled in red on the map)
This one is actually the suggestion of the lovely @diligentcranberry (Thank you for entertaining my unhinged obsession about the Gaunts origins).
It is said that Little Hangleton is approximately 200 miles north of Privet Drive. Now, Privet Drive is in Surrey. When I checked on the maps, York is directly north of Surrey; at around 203 miles, if you travel by foot.
There is also the possibility that perhaps the Gaunts simply moved towns instead of counties and cities. Maybe there is a magically hidden part of Yorkshire that is isolated enough to be far away from the muggles (or muggleborns) and nosy neighbors for them to conduct their wicked and inhumane past time activities: torturing muggles for sport.
Not only would this place be an ideal location for illicit activities, the density of trees around this area sounded like something the Gaunt family would like to have so that they are not easily accessible to anyone, including Ministry officials.
—
Runner-up Place: Godric's Hollow (Lined in pink on the map; the whole West Countryside)
There has been speculation that the Gaunts once resided in Godric's Hollow (as did other Wizarding families). Most people would also think that the Gaunts have ties to this place since one Peverell was buried here.
"Every now and then, he [Harry] recognized a surname that, like Abbott, he had met at Hogwarts. Sometimes, there were several generations of the same Wizarding family represented in the graveyard: Harry could tell from the dates that it had either died out, or the current members had moved away from Godric's Hollow."
The wiki even suggested that Godric's Hollow is Cadmus Peverell's final resting place. However, there is no canonical reference to this speculation. According to the book (The Deathly Hallows; Chapter 16, "Godric's Hollow"), Hermione only confirmed seeing Ignotus' tombstone. And while it was the norm to bury family members together in the same graveyard, we have no evidence that Cadmus was, in fact, buried alongside his brothers.
Lastly, official information from Wizarding World states that it was only Ignotus that had been found buried there, but no evidence pointed to where the others may be.
Runner-up Place: Leicestershire (Highlight in orange on the map)
This is actually the last place I researched because I remember that there was a man named John of Gaunt (1340-1399). He was the father of King Henry IV, and used to be one of the richest men of this century. I didn't find anything about him at first... until I saw who his wife was.
John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, had been married thrice in his lifetime. But it was his second wife, Constance of Castile (1354-1394) that piqued my interest.
Now, this sounds like a long-shot. But the theorized Timeline above proposed that Salazar Slytherin could be from Burgos, Castile, Spain. It wouldn't be totally impossible that Slytherin himself had children back in Spain; or that some of the children he sired during his stay in Scotland possibly moved back to Spain.
At least in my mind, there is a chance that Constance of Castile might be one of the descendants of Salazar Slytherin who ended up marrying a Gaunt.
Then again, Constance and John only had a surviving daughter, and the canonical information about the Peverell line was completely thrown out of the window with this theory. So, it's highly unlikely that this place was the ancestral origins of the future Gaunts. Still, this was fun to include!
—
End Results:
There is strong evidence that Ominis Gaunt may have been born in either Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire, or Yorkshire. I know there's so much information to consider regarding this, so it's your decision which county you would use that fits your headcanons.
As for my personal headcanon, I'd say he's born in an ancestral manor that once belonged to the Peverells, which was located in Derbyshire.
But as the family fortune started to dwindle due to poor management, it ultimately fell unto Marvolo to sell the property and find another place to move to. And since Marvolo doesn't seem to be the type to find employment, the money he had gotten from the sold property almost immediately got used up. In the end, he and his remaining family had to move to that dilapidated shack in Little Hangleton, Yorkshire.
—---—---—---—---—
II. Possible Date of Birth
Note: If you're not interested in astrology, you can just skip this one, and go to Part 3, 4, and 5!
This section of the post is pure speculation, and no solid proof at all. But we do know that Ominis should be born between September 1, 1874 and August 31, 1875 if he was to be eleven years-old during the start of his first year at Hogwarts. Therefore, all of the following information is gathered by astrological observations of his character.
(I have a personal tarot and astrology account, @tarotwitchy, if you guys are interested in knowing more about this type of content).
Based on character analysis, I believe that Ominis is a Capricorn Sun, Pisces Moon, and Scorpio Rising.
Now, what does that mean?
Let's break down his character one astrological placement at a time.
1. Capricorn Sun
— a person with their Sun in Capricorn is someone who is determined to make the most out of their life. Hard working, perseverant, and resilient, they don't allow themselves to succumb in to their losses and admit defeat.
— Ominis surely displayed these characteristics throughout the game. He doesn't let his disability stop him from accomplishing the things he set his mind to. He doesn't want his traumatic beginnings to inhibit his potentiality for success and happiness outside of his family's customs. When he sets his mind on something, he sees through it (no pun intended).
— Also, he is loyal to the good cause. He knows what's right and what's wrong. He isn't afraid of calling out anyone for their wrongdoings, nor does he back off from confrontation. This behavior of his was very apparent when he secretly followed the new fifth-year and Sebastian to the catacombs.
— There's also a bit of a savior-complex in him; wherein he feels he could set someone straight, tell them what to do or what not to do, can have a demanding demeanor at times, and could perhaps want to control his environment to make it easier for him to navigate. (So, yes. All of those Dominis stories can actually be a canonical behavior of his).
2. Pisces Moon
— With all that was said about his Sun Sign, his Pisces Moon is the reason we get a softer, gentler version of his Capricorn. People with Pisces Moons are known to be emotionally wise beyond their years. Their ability to empathize people's experiences are astounding, and their compassion is matched only by their fellow water signs.
— This admirable kindness that Ominis possesses is what we eventually understand and come to associate with him. When faced with the opportunity to torture muggles like his family does, his first instinct is to refuse. In spite of his blindness, he doesn't need sight to see how all of that was very immoral and apathetic. And even as he was forced to cast the Cruciatus Curse, he still laments and regrets that event up to the present time.
— One more thing to note is that Ominis could have simply reported Sebastian as soon as the latter displayed interest in the Dark Arts. But he didn't because of three reasons: He didn't want to lose his best friend, he still believed in Sebastian's chance to redeem and pull himself out of the darkness, and he empathized with Sebastian's desperation to find a cure for Anne. This altruistic attitude is what's best about him.
— It also affirms my previous headcanon about Ominis' sleeping habits, as Pisces rules over the realms of sleep.
3. Capricorn Mercury
— It's very obvious that Ominis is quite mature for his age. The way he talks, thinks, and carries himself is trademark Capricorn Mercury. He is also straightforward and he plans ahead not just for himself but for others. At the end of the game, he literally said, "whatever lies ahead, we must face it together."
— Mercury is the planet of communication, intellect, memory, and learning. Ominis' style of communication is quite formal and authoritative in nature, and he keeps it that way. He is able to express himself in a put-together manner that conveys his thoughts crystal-clear. He doesn't speak in riddles (👀) and he wants to be understood the first time around.
4. Sagittarius Venus
— Alright, this one is a surprising placement for Ominis. But after a while, I found this to be quite fitting for him! While he is someone who we consider as "docile" or "serene" on most days, having his Venus in Sagittarius gives him a streak of curiosity and a yearning for exploration; as Sagittarius is the sign of higher learning and traveling.
— The first time we see him (if you're a Slytherin) is in the common room being cheeky about the first-years who are trying to spot mermaids through the windows. He has a playful side to him that balances out majority of his more serious and somber placements. The fact that he is closest to Sebastian (who is really fiery and passionate) is proof that Ominis can hold his own when it comes to his best friend's fervent personality.
— Of course, Venus is the planet of love and romance. Majority of the stories I've read, Ominis is the kind of man who will study his partner's personality, routine, habits, quirks, likes and dislikes, special interests, and goals and dreams. This is the behavior of a well-developed Sagittarius Venus. They will absolutely love to get to know their partner's personhood beyond the superficial. They will also keep their partnership alive by sharing life experiences together and encouraging their partner to explore more novel and romantic moments with them.
5. Scorpio Mars
— Where to begin with this placement? It's quite hard to believe, at first, that Ominis would have his Mars in Scorpio. That would entail someone who is traditionally brusque, aggressive, and would embody the combination of Martian-Plutonian qualities.
— But in his case, there is a reason why people are compelled to write, draw, and express him as Dominis. It's because even if he haven't actually seen him being a dominant man, we instinctively know that he is capable of it. That's the effect of Scorpio Mars. The evidence of this placement is not always "in your face." It can be subtle, it can be a secret. His dominance and assertiveness is just dancing along the edge of his skin.
— But one of the most important things to remember about them is that once a Scorpio Mars has had enough, they snap. And they will always get the last word after they have put people in their place, snapped some bones, and razed the earth. And this is something Ominis is very much capable of doing. But his self-control is immaculate.
6. Scorpio Rising
— Again, this seems very unlikely at first glance. But upon further observation, Ominis is the type of guy you don't really know much about unless he purposefully let you in on his private circle, explicitly says something about himself. He also has strong eyes that pierce through others in spite of his blindness. His striking face and cheekbones are unforgettable, and he doesn't look like anyone else. Others also can't help but feel compelled to want to know more about him, as his enigmatic aura inevitably pulls them in (whether he likes it, or not. That's why most Scorpio Risings have trouble with unsolicited attention).
— To drive this point further, if you check out this video of other NPC's talking about him, they all seem to come to a polarized conclusion, with the common thread of 'Ominis is hiding something.' Granted that the name Gaunt, in and of itself, strikes fear and wary in people's hearts, others have really strong opinions about him without even getting to know him personally. That, too, is something most Scorpio Risings struggle with.
—
End Results:
Ominis Gaunt was born on January 11, 1875 at around 03:00AM, during the winter season.
Of course, this is only my personal headcanon, and based on my astrological research and experience. The runner-up dates I had in mind would make him fall in the Sun Sign of Pisces, Cancer, Aquarius, and even Scorpio! But the rest of the chart doesn't really align with the rest of his personality. Ultimately, January 11th is the final date I believe suits him most.
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III. Psychometric Analysis
Note: I will be linking the sites for these tests should you want to take them yourself! 😊 Have fun!
1. MBTI
— ISTJ (Introvert, Sensing, Thinking, Judging)
"They rely on their past experience to guide them, and are most comfortable in familiar surroundings. On personality trait measures, they score as Calm, Stable, Steady, Cautious, and Conventional. The ISTJ’s main and most admirable strength is perseverance; people of this type simply do not give up. They also have a natural instinct to protect and defend, as they are loyal, reliable and committed."
These descriptions speak for themselves when it comes to knowing Ominis' personality type. People who have a lack of sight (or those who are legally blind) rely on fixed structures and routines to help ease their everyday needs. While it is possible for them to be spontaneous, they still have to have familiarity and past experience in the spontaneity they'll participate in.
He is very loyal, to a fault sometimes. He's committed in making sure that his beloved friends are not dallying in things they shouldn't be. He knows the difference between right and wrong, and trusts his life experiences to guide him to proper decisions.
2. Enneagram
— Type 6 with wing 5; SP/SX (The Defender)
"The committed, security-oriented type, sixes are reliable, hard-working, responsible, and trustworthy. Excellent "troubleshooters," they foresee problems and foster cooperation, but can also become defensive, evasive, and anxious—running on stress while complaining about it. They can be cautious and indecisive, but also reactive, defiant and rebellious."
"Their basic fear is being without support and guidance, having nowhere or no one to hold onto. This is why their basic desire is to have security and support from their chosen people."
This one is very obvious. It's quite apparent that he is the type of person who can be anxious if things and people aren't where he wanted them to be. While he yearns for cooperation due to his need for security, other people who aren't used to this kind of behavior will find him controlling; and perhaps, even smothering.
Nevertheless, Ominis' intentions come from a good place. He doesn't want his people to be hurt or harmed. He also has an impeccable intuition to predict outcomes of certain situations, which makes him look paranoid. But his assumptions, more often than not, are proven to be correct!
3. Four Temperaments
— Melancholic–Phlegmatic (The Analyst)
"The Melancholy-Phlegmatic is a pleasant and accommodating person who tends to seek a structured environment requiring attention to detail. They have a self-sacrificing, self-critical nature, and struggle with guilt feelings about things that are not often their fault. The Melancholy-Phlegmatic is more conscientious and private than the other Melancholy blends."
This is quite self-explanatory. Ominis has two distinct behavior: the calm and peaceful, and the anxious and prickly. When things are going the way it's supposed to be (in his definition), he would be placated and docile. We see him as approachable and a little more open. But when things aren't going according to plan, or when things suddenly happen unexpectedly, he's like a rolling wheel going in different directions trying to extinguish the uncontrollable fires of disaster.
He's the first to respond by going to Headmaster Black to fabricate a story to hide what really happened between the Sallows, and make it look like a family argument instead. He's the one to alert MC that Anne went to get Solomon, and that we should do something about it immediately. He is the safety net of all these people in his life.
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IV. Corporeal Patronus
I want to give a shout out to @ponfarrdraws for discussing this with me!
We were wondering what Ominis' corporeal Patronus would be, should he be able to cast one. I've had a lot of speculation, going through one animal at a time. But ultimately settled with a Mongoose. This animal is not on the official list of Patronuses but it still has a lot of weight and meaning.
This article states that mongooses are a symbol of protection and are considered to be wards against evil. To quote:
"As a totem, the mongoose has the magical attributes of defense, protection, and destroying evil. The mongoose symbolizes action, adventure, boldness, fearlessness, impulsiveness, independence, optimism, rebellion, resistance, resourcefulness, speed, and adaptation. As a spirit animal, it encourages us to confront our enemies because we can overcome much stronger rivals than ourselves."
If Ominis were to find himself facing a dementor, he would probably be the first to sense its presence, and probably the most affected. Even though he wouldn't be able to see the frightening features of a dementor, he would be feeling the immediate change in his senses — his environment growing cold, no sounds of animals around, and the overall sensation of hopelessness and misery. He would be completely thrown off by the sudden change in his surroundings; something that would send him into a state of panic.
But with this Patronus, it represents his determination to stand firm in the face of adversity, to not give in easily without putting up a fight, and to prove that he is as deadly as any dementor that would stand in his way.
I personally headcanon this animal for obvious reasons. He truly is a fighter in a den of snakes. No matter how many times his family strikes against him, he just takes his time to recover and stand back up again. He is clearly outnumbered by his family members. No one else can support him in his opposition ever since his Aunt Noctua passed away. Regardless, he doesn't seem the kind to bow his head in defeat just to save his skin. He fights back until he can't anymore; something the mongoose is well-known for.
And let's just say that Ominis did die at 50-years of age. He still got the last laugh out of them all since he got to pass away on his own terms, away from the very people he loathed since childhood. That's still a victory in his book, and that's what this patronus represents.
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V. Wand Information
1. Wand Wood
Based on the physical characteristics of this wand and the meaning of the wood, it's highly possible that Ominis' wand is made from Ebony Wood.
According to the wand wood information:
"This jet-black wand wood has an impressive appearance and reputation, being highly suited to all manner of combative magic, and to Transfiguration. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and among the Death Eaters. [...] the ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose."
This type of wand wood, in my opinion, is a reflection of Ominis' conviction in his views. I find it fascinating and admirable that even in the face of losing his friendship with Sebastian, he didn't bow down and agree with Sebastian's methods. Sure, he gets convinced by the MC to let them deal with it. But at the end of the day, Ominis is strictly against the use of the Dark Arts. Furthermore, he does everything to maintain his moral compass despite being surrounded by people (friends and family) who practice and preach about the unforgivable curses.
Also! I'd like to add the conversation I had with @tennoujinerin about Ominis' godly self-restraint. We believe that while most of us admire Ominis for his kindness, temperance, compassion, and commitment to the good cause, he is someone who can easily turn it all around. He is born in a family of pureblood supremacists who have no qualms in utilizing the Dark Arts like it's a daily chore. He most definitely is very, very familiar with Dark Spells that maybe even Sebastian isn't aware of. If pushed to the brink of survival, there's a possibility that Ominis could reconsider his relationship with the Dark Arts. And this wand wood is perfect for that kind of change of heart.
2. Wand Core
For this part, I admit I was stumped for a while. I believe all the three cores that Ollivanders usually has could be a good fit for Ominis for a plethora of different reasons. But it still feels... lacking. Like, something was missing for this special wand to work.
That's why in the end, I think Ominis has two wand cores that were needed to suit his special needs. He needs a core that reflects his personality and another to aid him with his magical abilities. And for that, the cores of his wand are a combination of Unicorn Hair and Horned Serpent Horn.
"Unicorn Hair generally produces the most consistent magic. These wands are the hardest to turn to the Dark Arts. The most faithful wands have unicorn hair, making them bond strongly with their owner. They are prone to melancholy if seriously mishandled, meaning that the hair may ‘die’ and need replacing."
While this core could technically be enough, it just doesn't feel customized enough. We know that his wand emits a red pulse at the tip to help him navigate his surroundings. Therefore, this wand needs another core to bolster its utility.
"Wands made with Horned Serpent Horn are exceptionally power, creating massive spell effects regards of the user's skill. Sensitive to Parseltongue and would vibrate when Parseltounge is being spoken near it, and can warn their owners of danger by emitting a low musical tone. These wands were said to only bond with one user through it's lifetime, but this is only a rumor for now."
These two cores encased in ebony wood make for such a personalized wand. The fact that Horned Serpent Horn core warns its owner about incoming danger is an important factor for Ominis' safety and security. He needs to be alerted for when hexes and spells are being blasted in his way. And as for all serpentine cores, it's also sensitive to Parseltongue.
(Maybe it's just me but I believe that Horned Serpents are the antithesis of Basilisks. Having this creature's horn as Ominis' wand core would be the ultimate and tangible symbol of his rebellion against Salazar Slytherin's secret weapon, that lies in the Chamber of Secrets, and everything his family taught him to uphold).
3. Wand Flexibility and Length
According to the official source:
"Wand flexibility or rigidity denotes the degree of adaptability and willingness to change possessed by the wand-and-owner pair."
Because of that, his wand is most likely Rigid. This source had explained it perfectly:
"A wand of this flexibility will only give its complete loyalty to an owner who has faced great personal tragedy. It is particularly good for practical magic use, and thus usually doesn't perform well for magic that is frivolous or silly. Rigid wand owners are cautious and have difficulty trusting others, but they are not usually unkind people. Generally, they prefer to be left alone so that they can do what they want to do, regardless of what anyone else says."
(If you're not a Slytherin in the game, your first interaction with Ominis is surely abrasive and tense. And that's because he truly is cautious, and wants his private spaces to be left alone).
Lastly, this wand is on the longer side, measuring at around 14 inches. He needs a wand that can act like an extension of himself; just like blind muggles need a mobility cane.
TL;DR:
Ebony with Unicorn Hair and Horned Serpent Horn Core, Rigid and 14 inches.
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Phew! 😮💨 This post took a very, very long time to make. But I am extremely glad for the assistance, conversations, and opinions of other wonderful people here on Tumblr and Discord! I swear, I love you all.
I want to give love and credit to the following:
@damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog (You're the one who really inspired me to finally get my mind together and put my brain cells to use. I admire your creativity towards your headcanons so much, and I want to share this with you!) 🫡
@tennoujinerin (Our conversations are the highlight of my obsession in this fandom. I love our collaborative thoughts, and I hope you enjoyed this one. See you in the basement! 😈)
@ponfarrdraws (I think my delusions have reached its peak with this long-ass post. But I just have to let out my aggressive emotions about Ominis! I know you get it, and I'm glad I got to know you).
@diligentcranberry (Thank you once again for entertaining my craziness. My OCD is now satiated with these information out in the open. I originally didn't want to post anything about this until you talked to me about the locations. So, thank you!)
Update (October 29, 2024): I recently finished Sebastian's version of this post, as a companion post for this one.
#yes I know I am crazy#and no I can't do anything about it at the moment#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fandom#hogwarts legacy imagine#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt fluff#ominis gaunt fanfic#ominis gaunt imagine#ominis gaunt headcanon#hogwarts legacy astrology
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His Princess
(gif credits to its creator)
Fandom: Vikings
Genre: AU, Smut, Dark-ish
Pairing: Soft dark! Ivar x Innocent ! Reader
Words: 1809 (still don't know how to write a drabble)
Warnings: smut, dubious consent, somnophilia, light gaslighting. These warnings are to be taken seriously. Read at your own risk.
Summary: Ivar decides that he is tired of waiting to get what he wants.
A/N : This was written for my 500 followers celebration and I'm like two years late. I know I'm awful. The requested prompts are in bold.
Ivar watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully. You were magnificent, laying under the sheets, pure and innocent, like a prey ready to be devoured by a hungry beast. Hungry like he was since he had set his eyes on you and tonight, he was more than ready to devour you.
Cautiously, he sat on your bed, put his crutch against the wall and undid his braces. He took off his shirt, unlaced his breeches and stepped out of them with a wince. This Saxon humid weather was hard on his legs and he could not wait for spring. He slowly lay down next to you and looked at your angelic face. Tentatively, he stroked your cheek and let his hand slide down your neck and lower, until it reached your cleavage. Then, his hand sneaked under your night gown to massage your breasts. Ivar shivered at the contact of your skin.
It was the first time he could feel you without any barrier and it was exhilarating. It seemed to be the same for you because your nipples hardened under his ministrations and you let out the softest moan that went straight to Ivar’s shaft which started to rise and bob against the fabric of your sheets.
Since you were still fast asleep, he took his time to worship your whole body, your skin feeling like silk under his rough fingers. His hands ran down your upper body, exploring your stomach, your navel, your waist until he felt the need to go further. He retracted his fingers and pulled your night gown up. The sight of your pure and untouched body mesmerized him and he gave himself a few minutes to explore it with his eyes this time. When he set his eyes on the junction between your thighs and saw the thatch of trimmed hair protecting your mound, he swallowed with difficulty and licked his lips.
Almost panting, he let his fingers tickle the hair before adventuring himself deeper. He groaned when one of his knuckles touched your wet center. The exploration of your body seemed to have its effect on you as well.
You began to stir this time and he felt your body stiffen under this forbidden touch.
“King Ivar…” Your murmured groggily. “What…” You tensed when you realized what he was doing and tried to scuttle away from him. “No…not here.”
“Yes, here.” Ivar replied softly but firmly, gripping your hips so you wouldn’t budge.
“Anybody could barge in.” You said, panicked.
“Nobody will barge in.” Ivar had made sure of it. The guards were too willing to get some gold in exchange for their silence. Their distaste of this treacherous king who had sold them to the heathens and the fear that this boneless King induced weighed more in the balance than the idea of protecting their sweet and innocent princess.
“We can’t, it’s not proper…”
Ivar cut off any of your protests with a kiss on your lips. “Didn’t you like the kisses and touches we shared before?”
“Yes, but…”
“Don’t worry, Princess.” He cooed and his fingers started to play with your folds to distract you. “I’m going take care of you.”
His thumb rolled on your clit and he felt all of your defenses fall. Your hand gripped the bulging biceps of his other arm and you whined through your gritted teeth.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Princess. Let it all out.” He delved two fingers in your heat while his thumb kept playing with your small nub. He growled at the tightness he found and began slow back and forth motions before leaning over your chest to take a nipple between his lips and suck it wildly. You gasped but put your hand on the back of his hand to encourage him to go on. The Viking smiled against your chest and happily complied, only stopping to give his twin the same treatment. He slid a third finger in your cunt and sped up his movements. Small pants left your mouth and you gripped his biceps harder. His thumb pushed a little bit harder on your clit and you spasmed, letting your body orgasm for the first time.
Ivar chuckled. “You liked that?”
Still too lost in your own pleasure, you simply nodded and smiled. Ivar smiled back at you and retrieved his fingers with a squelch that made you blush. He watched his fingers and licked them greedily, happy to revel in your taste. “Delicious”.
He winked at you then spread your legs wider. He pulled himself up before slithering between them. He pumped his already leaking sex a couple of times and pushed his tip inside. You tried to evade his touch, panicked again but Ivar gripped your hips. “Where are you going? I’m not done with you, yet.”
“But, but...Ivar, King Ivar, this is…”
“Shhh…Princess, look at me.” He ordered you in a soft voice and you did. The unshed tears in your eyes made him feel bad but he knew he couldn’t back down now – and he definitely did not want to. “You liked what I did before, right?”
You slowly nodded. “And you trust me?” You nodded again. “Then it’s alright Princess, I’ll take good care of you.”
He saw the last gleam of hesitation leave your eyes and he smiled to comfort you.
Slowly, he bent your legs and guided them against his side of his hips. He guided his tip closer and lubricated himself with the slick that had gathered between your legs.
“You are ready for me, Princess”. He groaned. “I swear by the Gods you will love it.”
He entered you in one swift motion. You tensed and winced when he went past your resistance. Your hands instinctively pushed against his chest.
“It’s alright, Princess.” He whispered in a soothing voice. “You’re going to feel good in a moment.”
He stilled himself to let you adjust to his size. When he finally felt the tension slowly leaving your body, he began to move. He groaned one more time and refrained himself from going faster. Your walls were squeezing him in the most delicious way. It was different than with Katya and the women he had enjoyed after her.
Hvitserk was right, virgins could be slightly awkward but they were special. Then, he shook his head to chase every thought about his brother away and focused on you and your reactions. Your face was starting to show signs of pleasure, your hands were now sensually stroking his torso and taking the time to explore his upper body. They slowly travelled up his shoulders and went down his back to end up just above the curve of his ass.
Ivar took that as signs of comfort and he thrusted more forcefully in your sweet velvety walls. His eyes almost rolled on the back of his head each time into your welcoming heat. He grunted and fastened his pace, pounding into you. He knew he should be gentler since it was your first time but he could not help it. Your nails sank into his lower back and your hips tilted up to meet his pelvic thrusts.
“Feeling good, Princess?” Ivar asked in a husky voice.
“Hmmm hmmm, yes….”
He looked at your face contorted in pleasure, your rosy cheeks and your parted lips from which escaped the sweetest sounds. He felt himself harden even more and his motions became frantic. He was rutting into you by now, spurred on by your moans and the way your arms ran up his back and pulled his chest against yours.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, that he peppered with kisses. The hold of your legs on his hips tightened and Ivar sensed you were close. Good, because he was too. He sneaked a hand between your sweaty bodies to play with your clit. Your legs shook against his skin and you came, biting his shoulder.
The light pain fueled his pleasure and he let go with a roar, spilling himself inside of you.
“What a wild little thing you are, Princess.” Ivar murmured against your neck and kissed it once he had caught his breath. Yet, he frowned when he heard you sniffle. He raised his head and when he saw your eyes brimming with tears, he felt a tiny pang of guilt tugging at his heart.
“What’s wrong, Princess? Did I hurt you?”
You turned your eyes away from him before answering. “I am ruined”. You sniffled again. “Nobody will marry me. You will go back to your lands and my father will send me to a convent.”
Tears rolled down your cheeks. Ivar cupped your chin and softly turned your head so that you would look at him. “You are not ruined my princess and I will marry you. Don’t you get it?” He added as he could sense you were doubting his words. “I’m nothing without you. You are my heart, body and soul. I will certainly not let anyone keeping us apart.”
“You want to marry me?” You asked in a tiny voice. A few tears were still rolling down your cheeks but the ghost of smile appeared on your lips.
“Of course.” Ivar replied and kissed your mouth tenderly.
He would lie if he pretended he had not thought about ruining you just for the sake of it. He had found you attractive the moment he set eyes on you and taking your virginity would be a way to defy your father. Nonetheless, he had changed his mind when he realized the looks you were giving him were not out of fear and disgust but rather curiosity. From then on, he did his best to spend some time with you discreetly and as he got to know you, he grew fond of your personality and charming ways. You would make the perfect queen.
“But…what about Father?” You wondered, still unsure. “What if he refuses your proposal?”
“Don’t worry about your father, Princess”. He assured with a comforting smile. “I will talk to him. I am certain he will listen.”
Ivar had planned everything so that he would since he had refused to do it before. Tomorrow morning, your lady-in-waiting would discreetly rush to her King to tell him how she saw the princess entangled in bed with the boneless and wicked Viking. Hearing that, the King would make sure to summon him and order the Viking to explain himself. Ivar would gladly comply to his demand and he would not forget to remind the King that his precious and innocent daughter was probably already carrying his heir in her womb. Maybe this time, the Saxon King would understand that nobody in their right mind would refuse to get King Ivar the Boneless what he wanted and what he wanted was you.
Tagging (feel free to ask to be added or removed): @naaladareia @flowers-in-your-hayr @elenarogersbarnes13 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @gearhead66 @therealcalicali @peaceisadirtyword @captstefanbrandt @ivarswickedqueen
#vikings#fanfic#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#500 followers celebration#@alicedopeys 500 followers
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Wild Strawberries
Moodboard by @linasofia 😍
Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Thorin x f!OC Warnings: smut, pure smut, so help me Mahal Rating: E (18+)
Summary: Several years after Erebor is reclaimed, Thorin decides to celebrate his beloved wife's birthday... and is very enthusiastic about it. A/N: This story is a birthday gift for @legolasbadass from Linasofia and yours truly. Once again HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LB! 🎉🎁🎈
You can find this fic on AO3.
Khuzdul: Bunnelê - my treasure of treasures
Leaving the northmost spur of the Lonely Mountain behind him, Thorin entered the forest at its foot. The lush, dark emerald sea of pine trees surrounded him; each of them at least as tall as two grown Men—their rapid growth being the result of the magic the elves of the Woodland Realm bestowed upon this land in exchange for goods only Erebor could provide them with. It was a bright summer day and the sun speckled the undergrowth of the forest with gold, as if someone scattered countless coins across it. A small smile curved up Thorin’s lips at the recollection of that very profitable agreement with the Elves and the role his clever wife played in hammering it out a couple of years ago. Anila… Ah, his sweet Anila and her talent of finding useful information in ancient tomes and musty treaties. Then, her cunning negotiation tactics side-blinded the Sylvan negotiator, driving every single clause home. The precedent she found—dating five hundred years ago—was instrumental in cornering the Elves and making them agree to their conditions. There was nothing better than the taste of flawless victory… especially if followed by a private but intense celebration that took place in his marital bed.
Taking in a deep breath, Thorin allowed himself to close his eyes and feel the tension leave his body. Being the king of a prosperous Dwarvish kingdom was a great privilege, but also a sizable burden; one that could have felt almost unbearable at times—if not for the assistance of his royal consort. Thank Mahal for the ancient tradition that required the king to take a wife. At first, this was to be an arranged marriage but one day spent in Anila’s company when they met for the first time, a year after Erebor was reclaimed, was enough for Thorin to know this would be an union of both hearts and minds.
Today was a special day: his wife’s birthday. Thorin’s most trusted companions and aides were working deep in the mountain, at the shore of the underground lake, preparing the celebrations for the evening: there were hundreds of candles to be lit and put onto minuscule boats that would float on the lake; countless flowers to decorate the caverns; dozens of dishes to be served, music and dances to be planned, and many other surprise attractions to be planned. Thorin’s task was to divert Anila’s attention until it was time for the celebrations—and diverting his lovely wife’s attention happened to be one of his favourite pastimes.
And so he found himself on the forest path, with a full picnic basket in his hand, on his way to Anila’s favourite hideout. From time to time, she would disappear with a thick roll of parchments and a quill and then return hours later with a mysterious smile on her face and ink-stained fingers. Thorin would take her hand into his, place an ardent kiss over her knuckles and ask what she had been up to. The smile on her delicious lips would widen, she would hide that roll of parchments behind her back, rise up on her tiptoes, peck his cheek, and murmur into his ear, “It is a secret of the state, my king.” The sultry tones in her voice would make his blood sing in his veins—that was a clear invitation to flirt, and with Anila, that game two of them played often ended with their clothes scattered all around, and them panting, their bodies entangled, in the most unusual places of the Mountain.
That was his Anila, an incandescent mix of fire and tenderness.
Today, she mysteriously disappeared before he woke, and now he was finally on her trail. He took a few more steps ahead among the brambles, careful not to make any noise, when he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on a blanket. It was Anila; her back was turned towards him, but he would recognize the dress she wore, one of her favourites, and the silky waves of her beautiful hair everywhere, dark as smoky quartz, the braids that adorned it, and the marriage beads with the sigil of his house he offered her over the marriage anvil on the day of their wedding. Her hair was side-swept to the right, uncovering the column of her neck, and Thorin licked his lips at the sight, wanting to press them against that smooth skin and taste it.
Later, he scolded himself. He was on a mission, after all.
After slowly placing the basket on the ground, he soundlessly kneeled inches behind her. Whatever Anila was doing, she was clearly focused, so much so that she did not notice his approach. Only when his hands covered her eyes from behind, she squeaked in surprise.
“Guess who…” Thorin murmured straight into her ear, his voice low and sensual. He was very much aware of the effect his voice had on her and he was determined to make a good use of it today.
“Thorin…! You scared me!” she chuckled, looking anything but frightened. Anila turned her face back towards him, taking his hands into hers and lowering them onto her lap. He still held her in an embrace and did not plan to let her go.
“Have I?” He lifted his eyebrow in amusement, moving his lips closer to hers. “May I remedy it somehow?”
Anila blinked, her eyes glittering with mirth.
“That would depend on the remedy, my king,” she offered.
He brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against hers. They were as soft as he remembered, and she smelled like those blue flowers he never remembered the name of, so sweet and innocent, like the break of a new day. When she held her breath as their lips joined for a few heartbeats, a sign that he had her full attention, Thorin deepened the kiss with as much tenderness as he could muster, his hand delving into her cascading hair, until he felt her body pressing against him in anticipation for more. A large part of him wanted to continue, coaxed by her dizzying closeness and that little sigh she gave, but he needed to follow his plan. It was his wife’s birthday and this day needed to be perfect—just like her.
He moved back slightly, giving her cheek a slight caress with his fingertips and trying to ignore the wave of arousal he felt looking at her slightly swollen lips, like fresh raspberries, her shining eyes, and her heaving bosom. She wore a green dress, one of her favourites, that happened to be one of his favourite garments of hers as well due to a generously revealing neckline. Mahal, this plan of his was more difficult to carry out than he thought. He was supposed to be the one offering distraction, not the other way around.
“I brought the remedy with me, my queen,” he hummed, placing the heavy basket between them and sitting down beside it. It contained the best delicacies the royal kitchens had to offer.
“A lunch?” she peeked under the colourfully embroidered piece of cloth that covered the basket. “It smells lovely.”
“I cannot allow my wife to starve, can I?” Thorin replied, taking in the way she looked at that moment—with a playful smile and golden specks of sun kissing her face, one of them dancing at the tip of her nose. He wondered whether his plan of having a romantic midday meal with his wife would be ruined if he was to kiss that very spot now.
“You are a very attentive husband. Let us eat, then!” Anila decided, putting away a stack of parchments from her lap to the side. Her fingers were stained with ink.
“May I ask what you were working on?” Thorin said, taking out all kinds of food from the basket. Freshly baked bread, three kinds of cheese straight from Dale, white radishes, a jar of honey, hazelnuts and a bottle of good wine from his private cellar.
“You may,” Anila reached for the bread. “But I will not tell you. Not yet, at least. It is not yet finished.”
“So it is as I feared. You are writing a memoir of our scandalous marriage,” Thorin crunched on a radish with gusto.
He adored making her laugh and the way her laughter found its way to her eyes.
“I doubt Erebor is ready for such a read,” she uttered between giggles. “Besides, technically speaking, the events pertaining to our marriage are a state secret and therefore cannot be made public.”
“Perhaps it is for the best. I do not think I would be happy if our whole kingdom would know of my wife’s talents,” he cast her a meaningful glance. “I would rather keep to myself the things you can do with your… ouch!”
A piece of bread hit him right in the middle of his chest as Anila cleared her throat loudly.
“... brilliant mind. I meant your brilliant mind!” Thorin explained, trying to make his words sound as sincere as he could.
“Truly? Is that what you are thinking about at this very moment?” she teased.
“What else? I am still in awe about the way you handled those envoys from Minas Tirith,” Thorin hoped he looked like an embodiment of innocence at the moment.
“Oh? Remind me?” Anila tilted her head and gracefully licked her honey-covered fingers. It made Thorin swallow hard. That vixen. She knew very well what she was doing to him, but he was going to be strong and so he continued this charade.
“That expression of shock on their faces when they understood they would be discussing matters of state with a woman! And the realisation that you completely outwitted them!” Thorin could not help himself but chuckle at the memory.
“Ah yes, I seem to remember something along these lines,” she admitted, lazily taking another bite of bread and looking into his eyes. A drop of honey landed on her shapely bosom, making Thorin lick his lips as it glistened in the sun.
“And so you should, bunnelê. You used their greatest weakness against them marvellously. I will never understand why the People of Men underestimate their women so,” he reached out to take her hand and placed a kiss on it. Not over the knuckles, oh no, his lips found the centre of her palm and pressed against her skin. She smelled like flowers in bloom and tasted like honey. Despite the food they ate, his hunger was far from satiated.
“Cultural differences, my love,” Anila replied, cupping his bearded jaw before freeing her hand from his. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her fingers brushing against his beard. “One of our greatest assets when dealing with Men.”
“Exactly as I said, brilliant mind,” he gave her a playful smirk that coaxed a silvery burst of laughter from Anila.
This atmosphere—and their mutual teasing—reigned throughout the whole meal, accompanied by the twittering of the forest birds and gentle rustling of trees. You are a lucky Dwarf, thought Thorin, enjoying the feeling of content, laying on his side, his body weight resting on his elbow as he admired the sight in front of him. A beautiful day spent with a companion who is not only beautiful but also smart… to the point of putting your willpower to a test with her merciless teasing. And she happens to be your wife. Just look at her, the way the summer breeze plays with her hair, the way she takes a sip of wine, her sensual lips wrapping over the edge of her cup, or the way her fingers seem to dance in the air as she explains something about that newest decree on mining safety. And the way she speaks your name, with so much feeling and softness in her eyes. Is she not perfect? The true queen of your heart?
Thorin would never put these thoughts into words, of course. His wife would surely think him ridiculously mawkish and overly sentimental. The king of the Khazad of the Lonely Mountain should be anything but ridiculous. The best course of action was to keep such maudlin thoughts to himself.
“I think a dessert is in order,” he decided after a few more moments of his reverie.
“A dessert? I feel so full, I do not think I can eat even a bit more,” Anila sighed.
Thorin simply said, “Wild strawberries.”
“What?” she gasped.
He placed a small woven basket in front of her, its contents covered with peppermint leaves.
“How…? This forest is too young for wild strawberries…” she whispered to herself, removing the leaves and seeing small, oblong ruby-red shapes laid out in layers. “They smell delicious. It has to be magic!”
“Try one and see for yourself,” Thorin gave her a triumphant smile. Surprising his wife was something he never had enough of. Perhaps it was also partially because of the enthusiastic way she showed their gratitude, but even a king could be self-indulgent from time to time, he decided.
“A rider from the Woodland Realm brought them at the break of dawn,” he divulged his secret, admiring the way his wife put one of the berries into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed approvingly.
“You asked King Thranduil for a handful of the first wild strawberries of the season?” she then asked.
“Aye.”
“And he agreed?”
“Aye.”
“And sent a messenger to you in the middle of the night?”
“As you can see,” he pointed at the berries in front of them.
“Are you truly telling me you had a peaceful conversation with Thranduil during which you agreed on something? Without shouting and cursing each other’s ancestors five generations back? I think I will go with the ‘magic’ explanation,” Anila shook her head, but Thorin noticed the sparks of laughter in her eyes.
“I did not say there was no shouting involved,” he humoured her.
“If you say so,” she chuckled and took another berry. “Mmmm… They are very sweet. Have you tasted them yet?”
Thorin shook his head.
Without a word, she put the berry into his mouth and let him close his lips over her lingering fingers a moment before she retreated them.
“Very sweet indeed,” he admitted, still feeling her caress against his skin. “Just like you.”
Now it was his turn to take a berry and offer it to Anila. Her lips opened a bit and she gently took it between her lips, the tip of her tongue brushing against his fingertips. A wave of heat passed through him, a multitude of thoughts flooded his mind, but not a single one of them was mawkish.
Before he had a chance to react, she put another berry into his mouth and sealed it with hers. A low purr escaped him when their lips met, her kiss even sweeter than the fruit, and he tasted her to his heart’s content. There was tenderness and gentleness in that kiss, but the song of her supple lips dancing against his spoke of fire kindling inside her—and in his mind, Thorin agreed that it was time for another kind of distraction. He covered her cheeks with a myriad of feather-light kisses, whispering words of adoration into her ear as her fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp, eliciting a groan of pleasure out of him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, revelling in the way she responded to him, their bodies pressed against each other, their lips on fire. Then his lips traced a smooth trail along the line of her jaw, and found the way to her neck. Each of his kisses aimed at claiming her skin, every single inch of it. She tilted her head back invitingly and he continued his explorations, his lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear, and then adorning that place at the juncture of her neck and shoulder with kisses, precisely the way she liked it. When she rewarded him with a moan, he felt her body tremble in anticipation. Thorin was still hungry, hungry for her, even hungrier than before, and he refused to restrict himself any longer. Not on a day like this.
He lay her on the blanket, her eyes shining, her cheeks slightly flushed, the round peaks of her breasts rising and falling, her hair scattered around her head, glowing in the sun like a halo or richly veined marble, and he found himself in need of stealing yet another kiss.
“Anila,” he murmured, “you are breathtaking.”
She did not reply—busy with stealing a kiss from him this time and wrapping her arms around his neck—while his hand travelled down until he felt that round, supple softness under his palm and the warmth that seeped through the thin fabric of her gown. He played with the idea of simply ripping her bodice—her whole gown—apart and feasting on her naked body until dusk and beyond… and then wrapping her in his cloak and smuggling her back into the mountain for a long and eventful bath, the birthday celebrations be damned, but this tempting plan had to wait. Instead, he gave her breast a gentle squeeze and proceeded to undo the front of her bodice while his lips slipped down her neck and found the sweet spot on her left breast that tasted like honey.
“The High Council…” Anila gasped as his tongue swirled over her skin and then his lips closed over the spot again. “That meeting tomorrow… They will be scandalized when they see that hickey, my love…”
“We both know they will not say a word about it,” he chuckled. “Just as it happened last month, remember?”
“I forget what a clever strategist you are. Yes, I remember, Master Finulv was speechless, Balin pretended not to notice anything, and you could barely keep awake during that council meeting. That high collar doublet suited you very well, by the way,” she admitted, helping herself to the buttons of his tunic.
“It was my attempt at covering the proof of my wife’s fiery temperament,” he smirked, observing Anila’s nimble fingers at work. “I do not think I was successful. Master Bragi did not dare to lift his gaze from his notes even once.”
His wife’s only response was a chuckle just before she covered his lips with hers.
Among the kisses and caresses generously bestowed upon each other, among their whispers and sighs, they eagerly shed most of their clothes. Thorin gave out a satisfied hum, admiring Anila’s sun-speckled skin, the alluring curves of her body glowing as if imbued with the light of thousands of Ereborean diamonds. He was certain there were words that could describe this vision of ethereal beauty before him, but he could not find any.
“My king seems to be lost in thoughts,” he heard her say playfully. “Allow me to help you.”
Anila lowered herself in front of him and her hands started roaming his body, releasing him from his trousers. Her kisses burning a bold path on his lower abdomen, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her; of her nimble fingers wrapping around his already hardened manhood; of her hair like silk between his fingers, of her lovely lips that closed over his tip, of her sultry gaze, of the soft heat he was delving into, of her palm that…
“Anila… Mahal…” His wife knew him so well and she knew exactly what would please him, but today was not about him. “Allow me to take care of you first.”
“I was under the impression that you were in the mood for dessert,” she looked up at him innocently, licking her lips. Vixen. Merciless vixen. And he wanted more of her.
“Oh yes, I do,” he smiled, moving towards her.
“A dessert…” she gave out a chuckle when his lips greedily closed over her nipple, lavishing it with attention. Between the gentle nibbles and soft kisses scattered over her rosy peaks, among her sighs and his praising murmurs, his hands painted devout patterns along her body, in an act of physical worship. Thorin did not wish to stop; he craved to cover all off her body with his kisses, to bedeck it with his caresses, to offer his queen endless ecstasy. He wanted to offer her as much pleasure as he could and revel in her rapture. Soon she was stretched beneath him, pleading for more, her fingers entangled with his hair as his tongue drew spirals around her navel, his lips covered the softness of her lower belly, his hands caressed the roundness of her hips.
When his kisses finally moved to her thighs, and his hot breath skimmed the mound between them, Anila whispered, “Have mercy...”
“What do you wish for, my queen?” He lifted his gaze to her face, her eyes hooded with pleasure, her lips slightly parted, her breathing fast, her fingers playing with her nipple. What a beguiling view it was.
“I want you to please me, Thorin,” she whispered, parting her legs slightly. This was the only invitation he needed.
“Your word is my command,” he replied. Settling himself between her legs, he cupped her bottom, enjoying its round firmness. It fit perfectly in his large hands and he lifted her slightly. Anila moaned in delight when he eagerly buried his mouth between her thighs, his beard brushing against them. She writhed beneath him as he showered her most intimate places with kisses and caresses that brought her the most pleasure. His tongue explored the folds of her womanhood. The taste of her arousal made him even harder than before, made him dizzy with desire for her, but that had to wait. Now he was intent on pleasing her this way and so his lips found the most sensitive point on her body, tenderly tugging on the silky bud, and then started sucking on it. He heard her whimpers, her incoherent mewling spurring him on, and he continued his ministrations, pleasing his queen.
He gripped her thighs firmly when his tongue sank rhythmically into her, evoking waves of elation, one after another, each of them stronger than the previous one. Thorin recognized the signs all too well, and he drove her further and further, among the heights of pleasure, bringing her closer towards the very peak of ecstasy with every caress. Purring into her flesh, he caressed her swollen nub with his thumb, feeling how she arched against him as waves of pleasure sent tremors of ecstasy through her body, and he relentlessly kept on taking her even higher until her blissful moans and praises echoed through the forest. He stopped only after Anila went completely limp beneath him, one of her hands letting go of the fistful of the blanket.
Thorin moved up towards her, pressing his lips to her shoulder, and then brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed, her long eyelashes casting small shadows on her cheeks, beads of sweat covering her forehead. His caress caused a small smile to bloom on her lips, but her eyelids remained closed.
“Is my queen pleased?”
“A little bit…” she muttered, smiling still. “But I wouldn’t mind a second… no, that would be a third course.”
“Insatiable woman,” he whispered teasingly, kissing her collarbone. His fingers busied themselves in lining out the shapes of her breasts and unhurriedly following the curves of her ribs. Then his tongue joined in, exploring new, exciting paths on her body, each of them punctuated by her moan. Mahal was a great architect indeed, creating such wonders as this woman beside him. Compared with the elegant lines of her body, he felt like a block of unhewn stone; and yet when she lay so close against him, it felt as if they were made from the same piece of rock. Perhaps the Creator put all of his energy into making Thorin’s life companion perfect and decided it was enough. In fact, she was more than he could ever hope for. Absent-mindedly, he took Anila’s hand into his and placed a tender kiss onto her wrist.
Anila gave out a content sigh and opened her eyes, oblivious to his thoughts.
“Insatiable? It is because you have spoiled me rotten,” she stated. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, coaxing him closer to her, and when she closed the distance between their lips, he hummed approvingly. A new fire woke in her and there was hunger in her kiss, the same hunger that had been wreaking havoc through his body since the moment he saw her alone in this place. Her hip brushed against his erect member and he let out a low growl-like moan. Patience was not one of his virtues.
Anila found his hand and placed it over her breasts.
“Make love to me, Thorin,” the words were simple, but the timbre of her voice brought a much deeper meaning with them. And the desire in her eyes met with tenderness in her gaze.
“My queen,” he murmured, offering her an affectionate kiss, the softness of her lips giving him a promise he was eager to see fulfilled.
His kisses were careful, measured, and yet thorough, each of them aiming at telling her things he was unable to say with words. One of his hands caressed her body, eliciting sweet little sighs from her, until it found the secret trail that led his fingers to the treasure she hid between her legs. The moans that filled his ears in response to his feather-light caresses sounded like music.
“Is this to your liking, my queen?” he asked while his fingers explored her boldly, dancing in circles around all her sensitive spots and enticing even more moans from her. This, combined with feeling how aroused she still was, caused his manhood to throb even more in anticipation. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself.
“You know it is very much to my liking,” she admitted, bestowing a smile upon him. “But I need more.”
Thorin could not stop himself any longer. Taking his manhood in his hand, he growled with arousal, feeling her wetness against him. Anila tilted her hips, offering herself to him and he cast her a satisfied look, devouring her with his gaze. It was not long before he pressed his tip to the heat of her core. An unhurried thrust of his hips brought him home, his torments rewarded at last. He lowered himself over her and repeated the movement, studying her face as she bit her teeth into her lower lip.
“Yes, Thorin, more,” she whispered, taking deep breaths.
As he covered her body with his, Anila seemed so small under him, almost fragile, and yet she was perfect. He knew he needed to be gentle with her at first, and he did that gladly, anticipating the bliss that awaited them both. He could feel how snug she was around him, how an occasional tremble of pleasure came from deep within her as he carefully moved another inch forward.
As her body accommodated to his hardness, he gave another slow thrust, filling her completely. Her breath hitched and she welcomed him with a small cry of pleasure.
“My lovely, lovely Anila,” Thorin whispered, unmoving, his lips brushing against her forehead, his thumb running across her cheek. He knew his size was a challenge for her, but every single time she took him in with passionate eagerness that multiplied his arousal. “We fit so well together, do we not?”
“We do,” her melodic, dreamy voice reached him, her breath wafting against his sensitive earlobe. “I don’t think I will be able to let you go.”
With these teasing words, she wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips slightly. That made him burrow himself even deeper into the dewy paradise of her womanhood.
“Then don’t,” he rasped out. “We can stay like this for as long as you like. Only say a word, my queen.”
“Then take all the time in the world with me,” she decided.
And so he did. With his movements slow and measured, his eyes remained on her face, revelling in the growing signs of ecstasy he noticed. Anila, his wife, his queen, deserved all he could give her—and more. Her first (or rather third) peak of ecstasy came soon, just after he changed the pace, murmuring seductive promises into her ear. Her lengthy moan rang out in the air as her body trembled with ecstasy. It took all of his resolve not to follow her over the edge at that very moment, but Thorin denied himself that pleasure. He was not finished with her, there was more he wanted to give. He paused, cradling her face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on her burning hot lips, waiting for her to recover, but Anila’s affectionate gaze once again rested on him as she asked for more.
Soon he found himself finding the perfect rhythm, sinking inside her for what seemed forever. As he drowned in Anila’s eyes, their moans intertwined, celebrating the union of their bodies. They were drifting away together on the sea of their shared passion. Every thrust was a promise of endless joy Thorin would offer her, every caress was imbued with his adoration, echoed by his whispers until they came together as one. She clung to him, responding to his every move, her nails sinking in his back, driving him forward, demanding more, and he gave it to her in a series of rapid thrusts, the waves of their bliss growing higher to finally wash over them in pure rapture.
***
“Happy birthday, sweet Anila,” he murmured as he rolled on his back, his arm wrapped around her, but she only hummed something incoherent in response and cuddled up closer to him under the clear blue sky above.
They remained in a sweet, languid embrace for an eternity—or perhaps minutes—Anila’s head resting on Thorin’s chest, her arm limp across his stomach, her hair scattered across his body, his nose full of her flowery scent. Their breaths evened out and the only sounds around them came from the birds in the trees and he found himself drifting off to sleep.
“Thorin…” Anila breathed into his skin after a longer while.
“Hmmm?” He opened one eye reluctantly.
“You are as wild as these berries,” she pointed towards the forgotten fruits, now scattered among the grass.
“Am I?” He hummed into her hair.
“I think I will have to personally thank King Thranduil for your fervour,” she replied with a smirk.
“Don’t you dare, wife… unless you’d like to be spanked,” Thorin protested.
She chuckled and he felt her hand travelling down his abdomen, “Is that a promise, my king?”
“Insatiable woman,” he managed to say before her lips stopped him from talking for a very long time. For perhaps all the time in the world.
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Victor as The Machine Herald has changed in meaning significantly thanks to Arcane season 2 episode 2. He has gone from a character of desperation, anger, a want to get rid of all things human, to a savior, a liberator, and a healer. An almost messiah like figure.
This post will contain spoilers for Arcane you have been warned. I go in-depth about victors character below the cut <3
Since arcane season one I have wondered how we were going to go from this version of Viktor, an innocent inventor trying to do the best for humanity, best friends(👀) with Jayce, only wanting to improve and save lives. To The Machine Herald we know in LOL. Now it is clear they are truly recreating his character entirely. Evolving him some could say.
Viktor in game is a character who wants to bring in the evolution of machines and technology in the human race by force. He is unlikeable and brilliant. He gets along with almost no one and has gotten rid of his own emotions by operating on himself. I am very much paraphrasing all of this so forgive me if I miss some things.
"To solve this, he operated on himself to remove those parts of his flesh and psyche that relied upon or were inhibited by emotion."- LOL fandom wiki
"Currently, he is still dedicatedly working on bringing the Glorious Evolution to the people, and saving them from themselves." - LOL fandom wiki
“Viktor has shown little regard for free will and autonomy when dealing in matters of life and death.” -LOL fandom Wiki
In the game he augments himself purely with machines, technology, and his own wit. No arcane, no magic, no help from Jayce (to a degree he spurs on some of the change). But in the show oh in the show, he connects directly to the arcane!
Throughout season one we see Viktor struggling with his disability and chronic illness, his smallness and lack of, I don’t want say respect, maybe acknowledgement, compare to Jayce. He progressively gets sicker and sicker as time goes on causing him to look more and more into the hex core. Exploring its possibilities, pushing its limits, experimenting on himself. A trait they have kept the same between the version of the characters. Until it kills someone he cares about and he forbids himself from continuing his research, despite his declining health, and despite his very clear connecting to the hex core and by extension the arcane.
Going into season two it shows us who survives and who doesn’t. Viktor was not going to survive, but our boy Jayce, always a fire under him with no flame retardants, takes Viktor straight to the hex core. Jayce fuses Viktor and the hex core, irreversibly changing him forever. Viktor sits in this pool of wild runes(this is all information only with act one of arcane s2). Changing his body and healing and improving him. When he awakens he is different, disconnected, the air around him is different, a visible haze there, he has become one with the arcane. Jayce does not realize this, all he sees is his friend, who he would do anything for, alive, changed but alive and he just leaves him.
GIF credit to @ludinusdaleth
Viktor goes to the undercity in a very Jesus fashion, drawn by a pull and the voice of Sky, to the shimmer slums. He feels a purpose here. In the game lore he retreats after his credit for making Blitzcrank is stolen and he has been looked at with prejudice from those in piltover for his rather unethical ideas.
"Viktor devised a helmet that would allow an operator on the surface to bypass the wearer's fear-response and effectively control the diver... Jayce later reported the incident to the college masters, who then expelled Viktor for work that violated basic human dignity- work that, in Viktor's eyes, would have saved lives." -LOL Fandom Wiki
As the shimmer slum residents circle around him with intent to attack him and take his cane (now more of a staff) for its gold hardware to sell for my shimmer Viktor sees something, senses something. He doesn’t look at them with indignation or disgust, he looks at them with understanding, he sees their pain and their suffering and he walks close to the man who is holding a knife at him with no fear.
You can actually see him start to affect the man, in his eyes they change color from pale yellow to more blue, into dropping the knife. Only then when the knife is dropped does he take the final steps closure to him and heals him from the mutations of shimmer.
He has finally become what he set out to be in LOL. He is saving people, he is helping and healing humanity. Just now not through unethical(we will see how this part plays out) and more mechanical means, instead through the arcane and the abilities it has given him. Which I find very interesting seeing Viktor wield the arcane is something Jayce has always wanted and what began their friendship.
I am genuinely so excited to see where Arcane s2 takes his character. I can see why he wasn’t in any promotional material at all now, it would have given too much away. There is a scene in the trailer towards the end though that actually shows the people of the shimmer slums healed and floating when the trailer says "The Arcane is waking up" which i find super cool.
ngl does look a little questionable but I'm here for it.
I do want to say that I do not believe he is being “controlled” or “possessed” by the hex core. He was fused with and became one with the arcane and hex core. Throughout episode two/three we see parallels with the wild runes and magics to Viktor that Jayce Echo and Heimendinger discover in the hex cage(?).
I will not be surprised if this becomes very outdated by the end of season two but they are my current feelings/observations immediately after my watch of act one.
#rambles#speaks says things#speaks posts#arcane#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane season 2#viktor arcane#viktor league of legends#viktor lol#viktor the machine herald#the machine herald#arcane jayce#jayce league of legends#honestly Jayce is also insufferable in game too#character wise#I started writing this as soon as I finished the first act#I will not be surprised if this becomes very outdated#i am not completely happy with this and will definitely revisit it later but i want to get it out there.#i also think the biblical parallels are so interesting
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Does anyone else hate the "dating (male character) imagines: he leaves for you a man" meme with a passion??? Like "minorities are allowed to hate their oppressors" yadda yadda I just hate the "ew icky hets" bit sm. It's so immature. "Ewww my preshus gay baby boy would NEVER date an ICKY WOMAN!!!" I know it doesn't actually "harm" women who like said male characters to see that but my friend who selfships with a male character confirmed to be queer (the writers have different ideas about his sexuality, it's "officially" open to interpretation, but because one writer has said he's gay 99% of the fandom insists he's gay) was bullied, harassed, and suicide baited off of social media and now only interacts with a very small circle of people she trusts so like. "He is a pure gold star gay man who would never ever ever like vagina" is not always harmless. Sure minorities are "allowed" to hate their oppressors but being an ass just makes you an ass.
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November Prompt 29: Fairytale
Words: 605 | Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader
In this very moment, everything has become one gigantic blur. It’s as if you’re standing on the outside looking in, watching a soft filtered version of the life you’d always dreamt of. Draco seems more boyish in a way, though you two are just at the peak of everything. Draco swirling you around the ball felt otherworldly, then running through the corridors with him after breaking free from your groups of friends felt like that scene you watch in fairytales. The part where the princess runs off with her prince, hair blowing and dress flowing a trail behind the two. That’s what it feels like now, like freedom, like a fairytale.
Giggling under the floorboard of the Astronomy Tower, your warm hands caress both sides of Draco’s face. Whatever he’d been saying up to this point comes to a halt when your eyes finally meet in the starlit space.
Soft words, “kiss me,” spill into the space between you two before your mouths collide. His hands slip into your hair, massaging through the curls that fall from your hair pins before caressing your jawline.
The space is filled with old furniture, dusty dust covers cling to their silhouettes with twisted gold ribbons to keep them in place. Everything here seems to have been abandoned, but it couldn’t be cozier than the openness just several feet above.
Draco’s lips press into your collarbone, squeezing a soft giggle from your lips. He didn’t do this often, the privacy of your robes usually made it difficult, so you allow yourself to drift into the pleasure. His platinum locks are pillowy against your palms and your eyes roll back as the kiss travels towards your neck and jawline.
“You’re beautiful, so beautiful,” he groans against you before falling from your grasp completely.
Your eyes flutter open, readjusting to the faintly moonlit undercover. When you look for him, you find him still in front of you, eyes on you as always, but butterflies swirl in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him on one knee, still looking as boyish and young as ever.
“I think I’ve known since I first laid eyes upon you, but it’s become more evident in all the nights we’ve spent here together that I want to be with no one other than you, Y/n. Before I never seen myself anywhere, but I’ve never been happier, genuinely happier than I am when I have you near or when you’re in my arms… and I just love you so much,” he half laughs, half scoffing at his own dramatics. “I just… I know we haven’t even graduated yet, you haven’t even seen the world, but will you marry me?”
Draco pulls a small emerald box from a hole in the floorboard and you wonder how long it’s been there. All these nights you’ve shared above on the deck, watching the stars and just giggling together and enjoying each other’s presence had led to this. And even if you’d traveled the world a million times and were twenty years older, you can’t imagine finding someone that means as much as Draco does to you. So, head over heels in love, you plop down on your knees in your silky white dress and nod as hot tears stream down your cheeks.
“Of course,” you laugh through burning tears and rush your arms around him, never wanting to let him go.
And when you finally let him breathe, he slips the gold banded diamond and emerald ring onto your finger and everything feels perfect and magical, just like it does when the princess finds her prince in the fairytales.
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Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 4.8K~ Summary: A young human-Gem hybrid- a soul yet unknown to the rest of the Crystal Gems- takes their first brave steps towards greeting their heritage firsthand.
Chapter 3 of 4! This time, my OC goes on a tour of Little Homeschool with Bismuth, and gleans a far clearer picture of the most pertinent events of recent Gem history.
Enjoy! <3
__
Same as the car ride into town, the warp stream sees fit to aggravate their motion sickness.
Jean doubles over with hands on wobbly, wobbly knees when they finally reach their destination, relishing in the familiar comfort of feet planted upon solid ground once more. (Because good grief, they were whirling about like a damn tumbleweed in there. Balancing themself all perfectly poised and upright like the Gems felt near impossible.)
“Hey, you good?” the purple one— Amethyst, they remind themself— says, reaching a solitary hand out as if to catch them should they stumble.
“Y-yeah,” they stutter, still breathing heavy. “Yeah… sorry, it’s just— hoo boy, that was a lot.”
“Steven took a while to get used to the warp streams as well,” Garnet comments, issuing a formal, solitary nod. “It’s only expected that an organic being would struggle to acclimate to a zero-G environment like that. You’ll learn to manage it. In time.”
Jean swallows hard, willing that awful nausea at the base of their esophagus to recede. With any luck she’s right. It’d be such an embarrassing shame if they couldn’t physically handle such a basic form of Gem transportation. They always knew the theory for how the warp pads worked— the inter-linked system of crystalline terminals providing near-instantaneous travel between distant locations— but it’s another thing entirely to actually experience it. The whole journey from the beach house to this other settlement took, what? Maybe five or so seconds? Goodness, such a swift means of transportation could entirely revolutionize life on Earth as humanity knows it. It really is too bad these warp pads only activate for Gems.
(And that… well… they disorient every last balance-keeping anatomical feature of the inner ear. They’re thankful for Garnet’s encouragement, they are— but as of this precise moment they can’t imagine how such a trip could get any better, motion sensitivity in mind.)
Then, fingertips tapping delicately against the crystal inlaid at their chest in pure subconscious habit as the post-warp jitters fade away, they cast their gaze upwards and out. Shift their posture upright once more. This place…
“I— I’m actually here,” they mutter to themself, drinking in the glorious sight of all the colorful architecture and the bounty of Gem students milling around the busy central square.
Little Homeworld, in the flesh.
They step off the warp pad and— eyes widened with childlike wonder— begin to map out the area in their head. Clustered beyond the gold-rimmed concrete platform wrapping around the warp are a number of small buildings, each one featuring a completely different architectural style. Some are cozy A-frames, some are suspended on stilts… some are fashioned from wood and stone, others from brick… there’s square windows, circular windows, half-moon windows, no windows—! One story, two story, many, many stories… name any exotic building feature, and this place probably has it represented somewhere. And it’s a very colorful town, too— Jean has never seen a neighborhood painted in such vivid, welcoming pastel shades.
They’re still drinking in the sheer exhilarating splendor of their new surroundings when a broad figure they don’t recognize rushes across the square towards their current group, the very image of a Gem on a mission.
She’s clad in overalls that look much like their own, sporting a friendly face and— most unusually, compared to the Gems they’ve seen so far— an inverted gemstone at her chest, one that spirals inwards towards her core instead of sticking out.
“Oh, thank goodness you lot are back!” she says, nudging one of her rainbow locs back behind her shoulder as she plants herself square in front of their three hosts. “I was beginning to wonder if I needed to start the seminar on your behalf.”
Pearl’s glance flits their way for the briefest of seconds, their fingertips threading together. “Apologies, we got a little caught up in… something important, shall we say.”
“Bismuth, this is Jean,” Garnet says, gesturing towards them. “They’re a prospective student and need a full tour of our campus and dormitory. Do you or Peridot have time to show them around?”
Her mouth screws up as she considers. “Well… pretty sure Peri’s busy with her horticulture class, so I guess I can do it. It sure beats all the busy work I had going on this morning. But wait, wait—” she interrupts her own train of thought then, her attention snapping right back to the other Gem— “hold up. You said prospective student? You mean this isn’t just a tour for the short-term exchange program?”
“Jean’s half-Gem,” Amethyst blurts out with clear excitement painting her tone. “Like Steven.”
Bismuth’s expression snaps from minor confusion to spellbound amazement almost faster than Jean is capable of processing. Her glance flits down, briefly hovering on the pale lavender-blue gemstone resting atop their sternum.
“Huh,” she muses out loud, balling her hand at her chin. “Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t know that was possible.” Then, her focus pulling back up to meet their eyes: “But hey, we’ve plenty of time to talk shop about that later, right? It’s nice to meet you, Jean! We can begin that tour right now, if you’re ready. The rest of you guys, go on ahead. I’ll take it from here.”
“Sounds good,” they nod, tangling their own hands within the wide expanse of their pockets as they rock back and forth on their heels. “I, erm—” they wave an anticlimactic goodbye to the other Gems, who seem to be in a huge hurry to meet their previous engagement… golly, all of this is happening so fast— “can I just do one thing before we start, though?”
Bismuth hums an affirmative. “Whatever you need. We got all the time in the world.”
Inhaling deep through the slimmest slit of their lips, they pull their phone out of their pocket and sling a quick text to Dad, updating him on where they’re at. After all, warping straight to Little Homeworld itself was not in their plan for today… but oh, well. Life is full of surprises sometimes.
(A fact of existence that’s both a blessing and a curse.)
But with that little task out of the way, Jean follows their guide down the wide central path connecting to the main square, eagerly soaking up whatever knowledge she can spare. Bismuth, as it turns out, is the Gem who designed this whole campus. Thus for all the questions they might have, she’s got a pretty solid answer for most. Or so she claims.
From what they’ve seen of her so far, they’re apt to believe this, though.
“So… Little Homeworld,” they begin with a fair measure of timidity, skipping a little to catch up with this Gem’s large and energetic stride. “This place was only built in the last few years, yeah?”
She grins. “Yep! We broke ground in mid 2015, shortly after the start of Era 3.”
Their brow creases. “Era 3…?”
“Gem society’s current era,” she says in explanation, “which began when the Crystal Gems finally made peace with big Homeworld. You’ve… heard of Homeworld, right?”
“I mean… I always figured there was one, but that’s kinda it. I—” they trail off for a moment, their chest deflating under the humiliating weight of everything they’re unaware of. “To be completely honest, I’ve never even met any Gems until today. So there’s gonna be a lot I don’t know. Sorry…”
Bismuth merely waves their apology off. “Psssh, don’t worry about it. I can explain some of the basics to you after the tour. Plus, if you’re looking to enroll, you’ve plenty of time to learn all this stuff anyways. Now follow me, our first stop is just over here…”
The first stop she speaks of is the campus gymnasium. Jean’s interest is immediately piqued as they notice a few Gems sword fighting in one of the gym’s many courts. Bismuth— ever the keen eye— gives a fond laugh at their sharp swerve of interest, and dives straight into the meat of her tour spiel, beginning with…
Campus tour factoid number one: not only is this space utilized for structured classes (mostly swordplay and wrestling, which the quartzes are huge fans of), but students can even reserve courts for individual use. It’s not a super large gymnasium, but there’s plenty of space for sports outside, too. Apparently baseball (of all things) is a favorite pastime amongst Little Homeschool students.
Campus tour factoid number two: right next door to the gymnasium there’s a building with a bright, airy common area. Here, there’s tons of tables and chairs set up for students to play games and connect, a communal kitchen (mostly for the benefit of their human visitors, but also for Gems who wish to experiment with eating), and a mini library of human entertainment.
Campus tour factoid number three: when weather is permitting many instructors like hosting their classes outside, but they have plenty of physical classroom space too, over in the cluster of buildings nestled under the trees right across the main path. Some of the other amenities Little Homeschool boasts are a full art studio, an all-seasons greenhouse kitted out with the latest and greatest in hydroponics technology, and a records room with access ports to a whole wealth of Homeworld data banks for research and learning purposes.
The final stop on Bismuth’s tour is the dormitory, which is housed within the central tower.
“Now, many of the Gems who attend our school are at a delicate transitory stage in their lives,” she says, leading Jean through the front entrance of the dorm. “Plenty of them have never been apart from those of their own cut for more than a second, so the concept of ‘personal belongings’ and having a space that’s all their own is… well, for lack of a better term, alien.”
They nod as they follow Bismuth through the building’s lobby, each and every step bringing a new curiosity to gawk in awe at. Damn, this place is insane! The whole core of this tower is open space, with a set of transparent elevator-like pads stationed at the middle to ferry folks up and down from each level. There’s tons of greenery and light brightening up this expanse, and a number of railed walkways arcing across this central atrium from different angles every few floors. These walkways even have flowering vines hanging from the undersides, giving this building a strikingly organic vibe despite its concrete heavy architecture style. It all feels very… oh, what’s the style Dad always said he likes the aesthetic of, again—? Very, uh… very solar punk. Yes, that’s it. A sort of combination of solar punk and neo-futurism, what with all the bold angles and sweeping curves represented here.
A few Gems wave at Bismuth as the two of them pass by. She beckons them along towards the lift system.
“Thus, when building this school,” their tour guide continues, “we settled on dorm style accommodations, hoping that it could provide a nice balance between solo and community living for our students.”
“How many Gems are housed here, out of curiosity?” Jean asks, stepping up on the platform with her.
Bismuth taps her fingers against the diamond shaped screen inlaid in the half-wall that separates the lifts— probably imputing a floor— and the crystalline platform jolts to life. “Currently? About a hundred seventy or so,” she responds, turning back to face them. “And our roster rotates all the time. But the school itself serves plenty more— there’s a lot of Gems who warp in each day for their classes, and others who only choose to attend one or two sessions.”
They hum in acknowledgement, falling quiet to enjoy the smooth ride up to one of the upper levels.
The lift stops at floor seven, where their gracious host leads them towards what she describes as one of the few empty dorm rooms. (Or they think these are supposed to be the dorm rooms? These doorways don’t have any handles to speak of, which is a little confusing.) In any case, Jean’s brow arches in ample curiosity as they watch Bismuth press her palm flush against the adjacent panel much like one would use a hotel keycard. A dull chime rings out, and the entire surface of the door splits in two. They flinch a step backwards, wholly mystified. Wait, what?? But how did— there was no seam before, right? The doorway had no visible seam. They swear to the edge of the Earth it didn’t. So how could it just—?
Bismuth gives a fond chuckle, merely shuffling aside to invite them in to the room. “Trippy, right? This whole building’s a bit of an architectural labyrinth— held together with a whoooole lotta Gem tech, hah! So when you walk through that frame, you’re actually entering into something of a pocket dimension. It’s the only way we could scale up our operations while maintaining a slim footprint. The sunlight’s real, though,” she says, gesturing towards the wide window at the far end of the living unit.
Eager eyed, Jean takes a quick inventory of the space.
The room itself is fairly sparse, a blank canvas to be furnished and decorated however a Gem would prefer. But there’s some shelves built into the right hand wall at the far corner for storage of personal items, and a humble table and chair nestled by the window. Meanwhile, on the left side of the wall there’s a strange little person-sized inlet— a ‘cubby,’ of sorts— with another one of those touch screen panels next to it. They hum with intrigue, striding towards this mysterious furnishing feature.
“What’s this for?” they ask, the panel’s interface bursting to life under even the most feathery brush of their fingertips.
“Oh, that—?” she smiles. “It’s a newer contraption, actually… meant to mimic the unique conditions of any Gem’s exit hole.”
Jean purses their lips, absolutely nothing about the conclusion of that last sentence making sense.
Their what hole?? Oh gosh, it’s gonna take eons to figure out what even half of this stuff means, isn’t it?
Bismuth begins to speak further on the topic, delving into something more nuanced about these so-called ‘exit holes…’ something about rest, something about incubation, a kindergarten or whatever. Ugh. They don’t know. They don’t know. And even more frustratingly, for whatever goddamn reason it suddenly feels impossible to maintain focus on her words at all, their mind instead seeing fit to fixate on the daunting ravine that is their sheer lack of an even baseline understanding of Gem physiology, culture, and history. Here they are, trying to enroll in an all-Gem school, and they barely even comprehend the basic lingo. Oh god, she thinks they’re an idiot, doesn’t she?
They don’t even realize they’re clutching their arms around their midsection in the sheer strife of it all until the sound of their own name cuts through all the murk and mire that’s taken their body hostage.
“Jean… hey, Jean? You doin’ okay, there? D’ya want me to slow down?”
“Yeah, no, I’m fine, I just—”
Whatever lame, emotionally downplaying words they were about to utter die like snuffed cinders upon their tongue as they hazard a sheepish glance at the Gem and note the genuine concern weaving across her features. Jean sighs, dropping their arms.
“I think I need to go outside,” they admit, averting their gaze. “Everything’s just… a little overwhelming right now.”
“Hey, that’s all right,” she says, tone soft with understanding. “The rest of the tour can always wait. In fact… how ‘bout I take you back to my forge, and we can talk shop there, instead? It’s open air, and if you’re not up for talking, I can just show ya’ how I prepare billets for a while. At least until the others come back ‘round. That sound more your speed?”
“Yeah,” they nod, the barest hints of a smile returning to their lips. “Yeah, I think I can handle that.”
~
The walk back to Bismuth’s forge is pretty uneventful. There’s a few Gem students who wave a friendly hello to their guide as she leads them down the path, but beyond that their journey is cast in comfortable silence. And honestly, thank goodness for that. Jean is exceedingly glad to find another soul in this place who understands the importance of like… why a person might desire chatter-less companionship. Sometimes they just flat out don’t feel up to talking, y’hear?
Bismuth only breaks their quietude when the two of them step through the arched entry into her workshop.
“Here, you can sit, if you’d like,” she says, gesturing towards a squat wooden stool nestled at the corner of the space. There’s a table there as well, filled with a number of specialized metallic hand tools Jean can’t even begin to guess the names or uses of. Their Aunt Dee might, though. As a film costumer, metal work seems like something she would’ve at very least dabbled in before.
They nod in gratitude, eagerly situating themself on the offered seat and allowing their muscles to relax. Ahhh… it feels nice to rest after such a long walk.
Their gracious host rounds the room to grab a dense bar of metal from the healthy stash she’s got stacked on the shelves. As she crosses back around, her eyes lock on them immediately. Ever so subtle, her brows lift upon her broad forehead as she regards them once more, signaling her active sympathy.
“You ‘doin any better?”
They nod, small and meek. “Yeah, I think so. Sorry, about— well, sorry.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to be apologetic for, don’t you worry,” she says, laying the metal bar down on the working surface of her anvil. Then, with a faint laugh: “‘Sides, if you think you’re feelin’ out of your element, you should’ve seen my last tour group.”
“What would a Gem have to feel out of place about…?” Jean asks, more of an under-their-breath mutter than anything else.
Of course, Bismuth seems to glean the deeper meaning behind their hazy afterthought of a query anyways. “Oh, you’d be surprised. A lot of our students here have, well… a bit of a complicated past. A large number of them fought in the war for Earth, back when the Gem Homeworld was still trying to colonize it. And a good number of those spent a few thousand years trapped in a state of mental damage we Gems call ‘corruption.’”
Their features crinkle inwards as they ponder these facts. Hmm. ‘Corruption.’ Yet another term they’ve never seen show up in any of their research efforts. It seems the scant amount of information they’ve amassed about Gems up until now really was barely scraping the barrel. Was this their fault? Did they not dig deep enough? Are these pieces of their own history they could’ve learned years ago if only they applied themselves to their search harder? But in a true blessing of a breakthrough for an anxious wreck who’s starting to feel too ashamed to bother anyone with any more of their ignorant questions, their blank, deer-in-the-headlights gaze is obvious enough that their host clues in on the confusion swirling through their mind immediately.
“Ah, hmm. I guess you prolly don’t know what corruption is either, huh?” she muses, pressing a closed fist to the edge of her lips.
Jean flashes an apologetic smile. “‘Fraid not.”
She nods, and temporarily abandons her starting metal to the anvil so she can grab a second stool from the other side of the forge and sit herself down across from them.
“In that case,” she jabs a solitary finger in the air, “lemme just start from the beginning and give you the ol’ Earth rebellion primer…”
So, here’s what they glean from her narrative:
The Gem Homeworld was apparently once ruled by four Diamonds. The youngest of the quartet, Pink, had Earth given to her as her first colony. The colonization efforts went as planned for a good few hundred years… and then, a lone rose quartz and a pearl (the Pearl, the one they met just an hour or so ago, which makes a damn lot of sense from what little they’re aware of her), began seeding whispers of rebellion. It started small… isolated attacks on key settlements and construction sites, strategic disruptions of supply shipments and warp pad installations, that sort of thing. At first, the two of them only ever intended to scare the others off this planet— not wanting its ecosystem to be permanently destroyed via the lethal impacts of Gem production on the Earth’s soil chemistry. But over time, the rebellion blossomed to champion a cause far broader than what was originally intended:
Freedom for all Gems, no matter how disparate to Homeworld’s stringent ideals.
This was when Bismuth joined the fray, and where much of her recounting of this history is based on eye-witness experience.
Jean takes a moment to inquire a bit deeper about the destructive impact of Kindergarting before her story moves on.
“Essentially, Gemkind used to set up camp on a new planet, construct their colony, siphon every last scrap of life out of its crust until they’ve incubated all the Gems they possibly can, and then move right along to the next one,” Bismuth says, shaking her head with a tinge of shame coating her features. “An endless, soulless cycle, with countless dissatisfied Gems trapped at its center. That’s why the mere existence of Rose Quartz was such a shockwave at the time— ‘coz she was a Gem who outright defied her superiors’ demands at every opportunity. Rose, she—” her expression grows somewhat wistful with melancholy remembrance— “she taught me that my unique existence was precious, that I didn’t need to bend to Homeworld’s demands. That I could choose my own path in life. My own friends. My own loves… Stars, Rose Quartz was everything to me back then.”
Jean’s nose crinkles as they ask the obvious next question. “But…?”
Bismuth sighs as she slumps forward on her stool, age-old exhaustion evident within her tone. “But war is complicated. And so are Gems. I made a few choices I now regret, and got bubbled over it. Missed a few thousand years ‘coz of that. And by the time I was let out, the war was long over. The Crystal Gems won, but… only by a technicality.”
“Bubbled?” they inquire, tilting their head.
“Hah,” she laughs, low and half-hearted. “Means my form was dissipated in combat, and my gem was stashed in a bubble. It’s a long story. Don’t really wanna hash through the details of it now, if that’s okay.”
Jean nods, more than emphasizing with that sort of sentiment. There’s tons of awkward stuff in their past they’re not super interested in discussing with others, either. They gesture for her to continue.
Bismuth moves on to explain how— once she was freed from her stasis and allowed to reform— she discovered that all the Gems left behind on this planet were caught in a massive retaliatory attack by the Diamonds.
“They believed Rose Quartz shattered one of their own,” she shrugs. “Pink Diamond— the appointed leader of this colony— was lost during the war. So the three who remained traveled to Earth and tried to wipe every last Gem off its surface… their own soldiers included. They assumed they destroyed all of them.“
“But they were corrupted instead,” Jean completes, remembering that specific word Bismuth had used earlier. “Which means—?”
“—that their minds were thrown into a jumbled, primal state. Unable to retain a humanoid form, or even communicate in words. To use your human lingo, it’s as if the sheer brutality of the Diamonds’ damage reduced them into monsters.”
“Hmm. So how were they healed?”
“Ah, that was all Steven’s doing. I’m assuming you already know about Steven—?”
They nod. “I’ve seen his adverts,” they put it lightly.
That’s— of course— only the tip of the iceberg. They choose not to mention the ridiculous sum of time they’ve spent combing the internet for every last scrap of information they could feasibly grasp on Beach City, Steven, and the other Gems. It’s not clear yet what this particular Gem would think about such an obsessive level of study… whether she’d admire the initiative or resent them for sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.
“Alright. Now, here’s where things get a bit topsy-turvy,” Bismuth says, a bit of a chuckle coloring her tone. “So, Steven’s the half-human son of Rose Quartz, right?”
Yep, that tracks. None of Jean’s sources ever stated this so bluntly, but it meshes with the vague timeline of events they’ve pieced together… what with Rose’s disappearance and Steven’s arrival on the scene years later.
“Well, back when he was a kid, this whole bombshell secret ‘bout his mother comes out. I wasn’t there for the reveal,” she shrugs, gesturing wide with her palms spread open, “and only learned about it secondhand, but— basically, all along, Pink Diamond and Rose Quartz were the same person.”
Their brows scrunch inwards. “Wait, what?”
“Wild, right?” she says with noted amusement. “All those years of chaos and turmoil… when the whole time, Rose was simply waging a false war against herself. I’m sure you’ll learn plenty more about this era of history in time, but the important part is that this makes Steven one of the Diamonds. Which gave him the unique authority to negotiate with them for not only the complete liberation of Earth, but also the healing of all the corrupted Gems. Such a cure took the powers of all four of them to achieve. So, hah—” Bismuth cracks a half-hearted, wistful smile— “as much as it really cut my facets down a size at the time… in the end… making peace with Homeworld was literally the only option.”
Jean continues to muse on the broader implications of all this newly learned history as the Gem moves on to describe how Little Homeworld came to be. (Which— they’re ashamed to admit— they’re only halfway paying attention to.) So, Steven’s like… what… royalty, then? Some sort of Gem prince? It certainly would explain the sheer level of political sway he had in setting up this school, and the almost reverent way people here have spoken of him so far. Still, it’s not what they expected. Online documentation on Gem matters is still very sparse, yes, but nothing they’ve read thus far even remotely mentioned the existence of ‘Diamonds,’ let alone Steven’s innate connection to them. They can’t help but wonder if there’s any specific reason why.
Their thoughts migrating to related horizons, they inquire more about the rest of the Diamonds… are they still in some form of power today, they ask?
Bismuth shakes her head no. “Not entirely. It’s, ah… it’s complicated. We’ve elected leaders to aid in governing each of Homeworld’s planets, but… it’d be foolish to claim that the Diamonds don’t still hold a certain sway over a vast percentage of Gemkind. Our society’s entering a vital transitional state right now, shall we say.”
“Makes sense,” Jean nods.
Especially with how long-lived Gems are, though they elect not to say as much out loud. They have no idea if the topic of age is as sensitive for Gems as it can oft be for humans.
“But despite any lingering influence they may hold, they’re not ‘in charge,’ so to speak,” she continues, throwing up air quotes as emphasis. “Not as they once were. Everything’s different now.” Bismuth shifts back upon her stool as she pauses in her lesson, allowing the rejuvenating relief of those three little words to sink in for the both of them. A serene, content smile rises upon her lips. “After a lifetime of struggle, Gems are finally free to be their own selves in this era. We can finally rest.”
Their host meditates within the cusp of this welcoming truth for a few moments, staring off towards the open air doorway at their right to watch a fair handful of residents pass between activities. She closes her eyes, her features aligning into an almost unparalleled show of utter tranquility. Then, bobbing her head a little as she wrestles through the last few items on her laundry list of mental troubles, she clasps her hands upon her knees and pushes herself wholly upright once more.
“Anyways, that’s probably enough history for today, yeah? Hah, wouldn’t want to spook ya’ away with all the heavy stuff before you’ve even enrolled.”
“No, please, don’t worry ‘bout it,” they say with a slight laugh, shaking their head. “I thought it was pretty interesting, really.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it!” she chimes, pacing back across the forge to her anvil. “We can talk shop in more detail when Pearl’s back, but— should you be interested in becoming a student long-term— my plan is to retrofit one of those dorm rooms you saw with a kitchenette and a bathroom, as well as shuffling around some of the furnishings to make space for a bed. Does that sound suitable for your needs?”
“More than suitable,” Jean chimes, folding their hands in their lap.
“Good, good…”
Bismuth shines her a bright, enthusiastic grin, and picks up that dense hunk of metal she fetched minutes earlier.
“So… with all that said and done—” in a flash of brilliant light, she morphs her hand into a broad mallet— “d’ya think you’re still up for a lil’ demonstration?”
#su#su future#(as in... it's Post that)#bismuth#garnet#amethyst#pearl#jean maverick#ocs#su fanfic#su oc#echoes of chalcedony#my writing stuff
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Partners in Crime till’ the Day we Die #3
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
Chapter three: The Wonders of Horseflesh
fandom : red dead redemption online & 2 pairing : sean macguire x f!reader word count : ~3,500 rating : mature warnings : minor coarse language, brief mentions of murder, opening spoilers for red dead online, gunfight/gun violence summary : meeting up with Clay Davies, he tasks you with stealing back some horseflesh, rewarding you with a little more than money for your help.
a/n : tbh ive been kinda slow with making new chapters, but i finally pushed out another one 💪 more story in this chapter of course, but im actually excited for writing chapter 4 ‼️ after this chapter it’s all juice from here
tag list : @heloixe @m1stea
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
Never in your ‘career’ of sorts have you hunted for treasure. Honestly, it sounded like something straight out of a story book. And when that desperate bandit gave you that treasure map in a hurry, in hopes of making a peace offering for his life, you doubted if it actually exists in the first place. But, did you still go searching for treasure? Yes.
Though the sun was barely peaking through the horizon, you decided to at least check. After a couple minutes of good searching in dark— which wasn’t all that dark since nights in New Austin are fairly bright, you stumbled on an unassuming chest beside a crate and some sacks, which sat behind a large boulder. Opening it, to your surprise, there was quite an expensive load of stuff just sat out in the open desert. You collected a gold wedding ring, a platinum earring— just one, a random necklace holding a pearl, a whole bunch of revolver and repeater cartridges, wad of cash, and finally a shiny gold bar. Your face was absolutely bewildered by the vast amount of pure, well— treasure there was. Speedily looting the valuables and scooping them up in your hands to keep in your satchel for safe keeping’s.
Luck was definitely on your side, thanks to that bandit you decided not to kill yesterday. Nevertheless, you have other things to deal with. The burning heat of Cholla Springs’s late morning was a welcoming one, the soft, dusty breeze weaving through your locks as you gallop, reminding you of your freedom and fond memories of your childhood and time acting as the Scarlet Cavalier— you’re not sure if acting’s the right word, but it wasn’t of great importance right now.
Your bliss and reminiscence was quickly concluded when you’re reminded you’re riding out to your next mission advised by Horley; meeting up with Clay Davies for work. Just amazing. You had a strong disliking to that greasy, horse flesh and animal trader. Moreover, as someone used to riding some of the best horses of the west, the scrawny steed you were given free of charge from Horley wasn’t all that pleasant to be riding. He was slow, pretty malnourished and an old one. You didn’t have any feed for the poor horse, who you found was named ‘Scrawny Nag’— not too far off to what you were calling it this whole time. Perhaps the Scarlet Cavalier of New Austin will be back in business soon enough.
You dismount Scrawny Nag and hitch him at a small beam of the broken down construction of some stone building. Just two, cobble walls still half standing. As you walk around and see the scammer himself. And of course his twin brother, Clive— the mute who if he could speak, would be equally, if not more agitating than his counterpart. Both sat playing a game of cards— which Clay most definitely had an unfair advantage.
Clay lets out a strange noise of victory, “I win again!” He smirks indifferently, gesturing his arms up like he knew he would win either way; letting out a small chuckle and turning to you. “Ah… an old friend. Did Horley send ya’ pop?” He greets with pleasantries, though he already knew you thought he was insufferable. Still putting on that grand act, knowing how much you disliked him. ‘Pop’ this and ‘Pop’ that. It pissed you off to no end.
“Don’t act like me and you are friends.” You glare sharply, your eyes already fed up with his shit. Crossing your arms in front of you and lifting an eyebrow and waiting for him to just explain the mission already.
Clay chuckles, though it was basically a scoff. His dreadful grin, continuing to shine of amusement. “Alright, alright. Listen, I heard you wanted to earn some money.”
“Who doesn’t?” You adjust your stance, tilting your head slightly cocked to the side, awaiting his plan. Your speech carrying the bite you always had when talking to this guy— but also a hint of curiosity laced in.
He breathes softly of amusement, bobbing his head of agreement— even if you two didn’t particularly liked each other, he did agree on that statement. Getting up from his seat atop the wooden table he begins. “So, there’s a gang of ne’er-do-wells. They are a bunch of degenerates, not good people.” He explains, exaggerating ‘not good people’ and waving his hands around as he spoke. You just let out a small exhale out your nose— you could say the same for him. “They’re out at Rathskeller Fork, with a buncha’ horses they stole from me!— Well that’s a lie, but they stole ‘em off the feller I was steal ‘em off of.” Clay admits, voice declining in annoyance to sheepishness.
You just stare at him blankly with your arms still crossed, unamused as you listened to him rant off. Let’s be honest, Clay was probably in the wrong, but all you did was huff. “…And what’d you want me to do ‘bout it?” You answer dryly.
But, you knew what he wanted you to do. Helping Clay Davies was one of the last things you want to do, but you needed money. You weren’t really in the right place to deny jobs just because you dislike the job giver.
“Maybe… you could get ‘em for me? You think you could do that, po—“ He drags out, before walking a few steps closer with a fake tone of anticipation. He knew you couldn’t say no, especially if there’s cold cash involved.
“Don’t you dare say ‘pop’ again.” You snap before the three letter word could utter his lips. Rolling your eyes, letting out a long, deep sigh. Speaking after a pause. “Fine. You better pay up when the jobs done.” You relent sour, feeling a little defeated.
Clay lets out another half scoff, half chuckle as his sly smirk grows at the corners of his mouth at your response. “Well, good.” He hastily continues, quite proud of himself for convincing you to get it done. Like he was gladdened at your break. God, you hated this slimy scammer. “Meet me at the stable at Tumbleweed— once you have the horseflesh, and I’ll pay ya good.” He informed. “Oh— and uh, Horley wanted me to remind you any decent work you can find, take it. But just try to stay out of trouble.”
“Yeah. I’ll try— unlike you.” You reply, as if a razor blade replaced your tongue. An almost unfazed expression played on your features, setting your hands down and onto your hips, quickly glancing around before setting your eyes back on him.
Staying out of trouble was rich, since you weren’t all that good at that in the first place. Considering what placed you here was trouble you didn’t even cause. Just— stumbled upon, you guess. You’ll try, though, no promises. And with taking any good work you find, well, what else were you supposed to do? All though you did want to rest, money and getting back on your feet was all too important. Plus, you were kind of getting used to it. It was exhilarating and the action reminded you why you loved it previously. It as in crime. When opportunities come, you’ll take them. That’s just the girl you are and came to be. Maybe it’s a habit. Maybe it’s just want for money and stability. Maybe it’s adventure. And maybe it’s all of them. You didn’t really know.
Clive just brushes off the bite, huffing to himself. “Oh, and once you get me those horses…” Clay continues, whilst Clive finishes up packing their resting spot into the back of the wagon. “Well after that we’ll talk again.” He ends, helping himself up the seat of the horse wagon and taking the reins in his hands. “Oh, I do so enjoy these conversations!” He belts out so over exaggerated that even a deaf person could tell he was sarcastic. “Let’s go, Clive!” He ushers Clive, quickly handing him the reins. A loud ‘whip’ rang before the horsed wagon rode away.
Stealing horseflesh, huh? Guess the Scarlet Cavalier is really back from retirement after all.
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
You duck your body down whilst galloping away. Bullets just barely grazing as you ride for your life. Feeling your body rapidly fly up and down on the practically untamed horse, shooting aimlessly from your revolver— bullets so clearly missing, but enough to deter more of the angry mob of gang members from catching up and getting a good shot at you.
As you can tell, this job clearly went well. But thinking this would go smoothly after a damn long while of being out of the horseflesh stealing business— it went better than it could’ve went.
The plan— that you made up on the spot when you got there, was to inconspicuously go around the place and climb the stone wall to the horse sheds. Sneaking in and silently kill the guy guarding the place, roping as many horses you could and ride out as quickly as whatever horse you steal’s legs can go out of that place and pray you don’t get shot during the chaos. And you did execute the plan. But, you failed to realise how far they would chase you down the roads of Gaptooth Ridge.
Galloping and spurring the horse beneath you— which you didn’t get a good look at since you were rushing to just get out before you got shot. Your streak of luck apparently was still going, managing to shoot a guy off his horse from all the stray, aimless bullets you shot. More and more of them start getting lost in the chase, horses beginning to give out or just unable to keep up. Whatever breed this horse was you were riding, you knew it was expensive. How easily it could out run those gang members on horseback? You could see why Davies wanted these horses so badly.
Though the chase still wasn’t over. By this point you just focused on the path in front, hunching your shoulders and clutching the reins on this horse for your damn life. Sometimes whipping your head over your shoulders to see how close or how many remained. Spotting the two left, now further and further in the distance, their face contorted and teeth gritted, loosing their trail on you. Spewing muffled curses from the distance you couldn’t care to hear.
It was a damn miracle you weren’t shot during that horse-chase. Hell, you were surprised that you were able to control the horse you were riding PLUS the three lassoed behind you. It was a feat you completed numerous times before; but somehow was ten times more difficult considering your circumstances. Though, you made it. Slowing the horse below you into a softer gallop towards the destination Clay Davies told you to drop them off at; Tumbleweed stable.
You rode past the familiar, tiny town of Tumbleweed, taking a glance at the place for just a second before carrying on past to the stable on the further outskirts of town. Holding up into a canter then a trot, you see the two knobs waiting for you before the muted green stable doors.
“Well, well, well, the Scarlet Cavalier of New Austin never fails.” He drawled with a smug but pleased grin on his face. “Dead right! Ain’t that dandy?” Reminding you that he knew your identity. Which made you despise him more because that meant he had protection— or you guess blackmail, against you. Ever want to rat him out to the law because he pretty much scammed you, so you pretend to be an innocent civilian girl that got scammed? You would both be locked up and hung before you know it. Not worth this ratbag anyway. Guess that’s how he always saved his skin.
You sigh sharply, shifting your gaze around to make sure nobodies there to watch. Lo-and-behold it is just desert. “Just— where do I put them. And where’s my payment.” You ask, less of a question; more of a demand.
“Alright, alright— get that horse hidden away Clive…” He switches his tone completely, glaring at his brother and urging him to get on with it. “And ready to move out as soon as we can.” Clay goes and grabs the large door on the left and Clive hurriedly opens up the right. The stable doors creaking and dragging against the dry dirt below; some of it kicking up as it parts. “Here’s the money you earned.” Clay slaps the wad of cash onto your palm before going on again. “Now listen. Horley came by and gave me a message. He said go see your friend Cripps, up at your camp.” He delivers, reminding you once again. “Now listen to me for a second—“ He gestures his index finger in front your face, which you swat it away and shoot him a glare. He timidly moves his hands away and continues, “Any other decent horses you find, we and the Scarlet Cavalier can be up and running again. Just as soon as we set up, ‘kay?” He nods, starting to shut the stable doors again.
“You know what—“ Clay stops himself, rewinding his movements. “hold on, boy!” He also stops Clive. He adds, “I call him boy because I’m older. 30 minutes—“
“He went black. I know.” You nod your head knowingly, a small huff escaping your lips.
“Ha! This is why… let’s give our friend here back a horse.” He turns his head to Clive then back at you, a proud look on his face for finally doing something good, you assume. “It’s yours! A sign of faith, future and past business! If you wanna buy any extras or sundries for the animal, head inside! They’ve got a lot available.” He excites. It was pleasant, made you rethink if he was actually all that bad. If this cleared up the damages of the money you could’ve had. Maybe, maybe not. But it was nice of the scoundrel to do.
“…Thanks. That’s nice of you.” A faint smile twists at your lips, nodding of appreciation to him as you begin to walk into the dirt and hay filled stable.
“See ya soon.” He goodbyes with a riff, Clive walking up to him with a dumbfounded expression and his hands up in the air saying as if, ‘why the hell did he do that’. “Come on, Clive.” Clay ignores, ushering him with that same warning in his voice. The two walking out and away.
You turn to the four horses that are now lined up in their pens. Taking a closer inspection at the mounts, to your assumption, they were rare and expensive breeds alright. But the one you were originally riding caught your eye. The large, shimmering raven coat and white stamp on its head; that’s a black Turkoman, alright.
The mare neighed and stomped her feet— presumably from how hard you rode during that chase that had happened. You try your best to calm the beauty down, shushing her softly and slowly creeping towards her, crooning pleas for her to settle down. “Shhh… it’s alright girl… just— let me lead you out, okay?” You hush, the agitated mare calming as you take its lead. You always had a way with horses, you guess that’s why it made the job of stealing them so easy.
The horse follows you passively out the pen, as you hitch it to a post and make your way over to the large selection of saddles propped up on the stable’s wall. You didn’t have all that much money, selecting the cheapest black saddle available— so it would at least match the coat of the beautiful creature. Hooking it off the wall with a grunt, and setting it on the horse you still haven’t named yet. Attaching the straps of the saddle of the Turkoman’s abdomen, you hoist yourself up onto its tall stature. Patting her on the base of her neck as you rack your mind for any fitting name for a moment or three.
“Belladonna. That’s what your name will be. Belladonna.” You repeat to yourself, or the horse, you weren’t sure. You chose the name because it was your grandmother’s favourite plant. You weren’t able to see it at all in the great desert. But she would retell how the wondrous plant looked, describing it like a tale. Purple, delicate, bell shaped flowers, accompanied by almost berry like black orbs; which were terribly toxic. It sounded magical when you heard it as a young girl. And this magical plant was a fitting name for her. Belladonna.
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃓 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
Sighing, you dismount Belladonna. Your worn boots tapping the sand-like, arid dirt below towards Cripps. Who sits by a small campfire playing what sounded and looked like to be a jaw harp. He chuckled to himself before removing the small, metal instrument from his mouth and looking up at you. “How’d you get on with Clay Davies?”
“How’d you expect.” You respond with a scoff. You didn’t even want to peep another word about that man anyway, though he did give you a well horse for free. Doesn’t stop him from being agitating though.
He tittered of amusement, pulling himself up from his seat at the fire. “Horrible little wretch in my opinion— and yer’s too apparently. Pop this and pop that.” He stood beside you going off about the ratbag the same you would. “I’d like to pop him, the slime bucket.” He nudged you with a smirk.
“Hah, now that I can agree on.” You laugh, nodding your head of every curse and insult directed to the horse fencer. You two were going to get along alright, just by this interaction.
“Anyway…” Cripps turns to face the rest of the campsite, his hands gesturing around at his work, pleased with himself. “I’ve got everything set up. Well— uh, what we have so far.” You both admire the work, leisurely walking through the camp and inspecting your new home. “I, uh, think I did a good job for you. I’ll earn my keep.” The old man narrates. “When you get too old to fight, what choice have yer got? It’s either work or beg— and I’d rather work.” He added, ranting off, you both trotting on the dirt beneath your feet. “Oh, I saw Horley. He wants you to come down and meet him in Blackwater when you get the chance.” Each time, gesturing his cigarette pack in his hands to every statement.
“I think he might have some work for ya. Oh, and, er, while you’re out on yer travels, you may see some folk with employment opportunities. Good folk, bad folk— looking for a tough guy with a gun to help ‘em. Up to you if ya listen to them, I guess.” Horley briefed.
You never took all that many jobs; though, you would’ve if you had the opportunity to. You really couldn’t though, since before this mess you worked by and for yourself. It was all you knew, and you relied on yourself to get you the money. So, finally receiving consistent work was exciting, and making new connections wasn’t particularly a bad thing either.
“You know, I… I used to like that kind of stuff.” He started, stopping in his tracks and turning to you as he spoke. “One time, I almost helped a clown steal an elephant!” He reminisced with a snicker, “—but that’s a very silly story.” He quieted to himself.
“I bet.” You nod along, though you didn’t really get where he was going with that.
“Uh, welcome home!” He gestured once more to the whole camp with welcoming zeal. “Make yourself at home— it is your home.” He corrected, looking around for himself for another time.
You smile gently before taking another good look at the camp and breathing the air in, that as he said, will be your home. It was small, but it made do for the time being. “Glad to be home, then, Cripps.” Nodding before walking off to poke around camp yourself. Cripps heads and sits back down to his original spot at the fire.
You tread over to a chest on the ground, peering at it before realising it’s a telegram box.
Opening it up, you see various letters and papers that has already come in for you. You’re pretty popular, it looks like. You pull out a letter that catches your eye, a clean, fancily, red stamped letter. Contrast to the rest of plain, fairly dirty letters. You pick the letter into your dark, gloved hands, inspecting it closely before shutting the lid of the chest with your boot; still never diverting your gaze from the paper. Tearing the letter out, you read the simple, but well hand written note.
It is time we talk.
I will see you— and only you— under the pagoda by the Théâtre Râleur, Hestia Street, Saint Denis.
This is an opportunity you will not want to pass.
M.
Is all it wrote. Ominous, but hell, it was intriguing. You fold the note and tuck it in your satchel for another time, once you’re not as busy. Perhaps after meeting Horley in Blackwater, depending how that goes, you guess.
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
thanks for reading again !!! thankful for everyone who actually reads this mess of a story im making 😭 again, sorry for the slower chapter posts, ive been demotivated AS right now, but more will for sure be coming <33
#sean macguire#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption x reader#sean macguire x reader#fanfic#red dead redemption two#rdr2#rdr2 sean#rdr#sean macguire x female reader#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 fanfic#sean macguire fanfic#rdr2 community#rdr2 fandom#rdr online#rdo#online#red dead redemption online#rdr2 online#original story#partners in crime till the day we die#rdonline
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considering is close to halloween now (ok it’s october 1st but lmao) do you have any spooky / halloween related recs? it can be drarry or femslash or wolfstar or whatever. i’ve never read any fic in the hp fandom with halloween in mind before :0
Happy Halloween season! 🎃 Absolutely, I don’t have the stomach for gore but I do love myself some spooky reads. Here are some of my faves - they’re all Drarry but I’d suggest checking the 2022 HP Fear Fest masterlist. Enjoy! 👻
I Demand a Soft Epilogue by @the-starryknight (M, 1k)
James didn't arrive on the Hogwarts Express, and so Harry hasn't slept in a week. Something has brought him back to the stoop outside a building marked "Library" in gold letters. He's going to go inside. Maybe the Librarian can help.
The Heart of the Manor by kedavranox (M, 4k)
In his efforts to remove the taint Voldemort left on the Manor, Draco hires a team of Curse-Breakers. But what will happen when they stumble upon something older and more insidious than simple Dark magic?
The Other Cottage by @corvuscrowned (T, 6.5k)
If Pansy wasn’t shagging Ginny Weasley, Draco would never have been dragged to Luna’s ridiculous Halloween party in the first place - meaning he wouldn't be sitting in the corner of the room with Harry Potter all night. But when a strange comet passes overhead, things start to get even weirder than usual.
Doppelganger by @writcraft (M, 7k)
It was just a silly dare, but one ill-advised trip into the Forbidden Forest changes Harry’s life forever.
Saltwater Stain by @the-starryknight (M, 9k)
Seven days stuck on a boat investigating a rogue ghost wouldn't be so bad if Harry didn't want Draco so much. Draco has his rules and Harry's content to follow them, but the air feels different away from the shore. Is it possible that the sea could offer Harry something impossible on land?
And So Death Took by @icmezzo (E, 25k)
Fairy tales may soothe small children into slumber, but some stories themselves refuse to sleep. The Tale of Three Brothers, retold.
In Our Blood by secretsalex (E, 38k)
Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.
Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k)
After a serious accident in the Forbidden Forest, Draco's personality begins to undergo subtle changes. At first, Harry credits this to a new enthusiasm for life. But as the days pass and Draco's behavior becomes more and more mysterious, Harry begins to suspect that something bigger--and darker--is at work.
Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren (E, 135k)
Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries. And the only person who may know where they are is a mute Draco Malfoy.
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Ben with a single mama(kiddo is 1-2 yrs old). Kiddo is OBSESSED with Ben and follows him like a little ducking. Please and thank you!! He deserves a family! 😭😍
Aww this is absolutely adorable
❝duckling❞
✭ pairing : benjamin x reader
✭ fandom : twilight x reader
✭ summary : benjamin’s mate has a young son who’s absolutely obsessed with him and tends to even follow him around like a small little duckling
✭ authors note : this is pure fluff
✭ twilight masterlist
The lush green forest surrounding the Cullen residence was alive with the soft rustling of leaves, a gentle symphony that played in harmony with the peaceful atmosphere. Benjamin, the quiet and introspective member of the coven, walked gracefully through the trees. His keen senses were attuned to the smallest fluctuations in the environment, a testament to his unique power over the elements.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of gold and orange across the sky, Benjamin found himself drawn to a particular spot. There, nestled within a small clearing, was a scene that both intrigued and warmed his heart. (Y/N), his mate, sat on a blanket spread out on the ground, her laughter mingling with the tinkling sound of her son's delighted giggles.
The little boy, with (h/c) hair that matched his mother's, was the center of (Y/N)'s world. At two years old, he was filled with an innocent curiosity that knew no bounds. And much to Benjamin's amusement, this curiosity was particularly focused on him.
"(Y/N)," Benjamin called softly as he stepped into the clearing, his amber eyes glowing warmly as he took in the heartwarming scene.
"Benjamin," (Y/N) smiled, her eyes lighting up as she looked at her mate. "I'm so glad you're here."
With a graceful movement, Benjamin settled beside her on the blanket. The little boy, (Son's Name), toddled over to him, his big eyes filled with awe and fascination. "(Son's Name)" was the spitting image of his mother, save for the striking resemblance he bore to his father when he used his unique power.
"(Son's Name)," (Y/N) gently chided, her voice tinged with amusement, "You can't keep following Benjamin around like that."
Benjamin couldn't help but chuckle, a soft and melodious sound that seemed to capture the essence of his own peaceful nature. He extended a hand, allowing a playful breeze to dance around his fingers, drawing the child's attention. "(Son's Name)," he said kindly, "Would you like to see something?"
Wide-eyed and filled with anticipation, the little boy nodded vigorously. With a focused glance, Benjamin wove his power through the air, shaping it into intricate patterns that seemed to paint the very wind itself. Leaves lifted from the ground, swirling and twirling in intricate formations, creating an ethereal dance.
"(Son's Name)" clapped his hands with pure delight, his laughter ringing out like music in the clearing. His fascination with Benjamin's elemental manipulation was as endearing as it was heartwarming.
As the evening unfolded, Benjamin found himself captivated not only by his mate's enchanting presence but also by the boundless joy that (Son's Name) brought into their lives. It was a bond that was unbreakable, one that connected them all in ways that transcended their supernatural origins.
And so, under the starlit sky, (Y/N), Benjamin, and (Son's Name) forged a family, a unit bound by love, curiosity, and the magic that danced within the very air around them. Little did they know that their journey was only just beginning, with each passing day promising new discoveries and uncharted adventures.
Weeks turned into months, and the bond between Benjamin, (Y/N), and (Son's Name) grew stronger. The forest clearing became a regular meeting spot, a place where they could share moments of laughter, wonder, and quiet companionship. (Son's Name) had taken to calling Benjamin his "magic friend," a title that filled Benjamin's heart with warmth.
One sunny afternoon, as dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, (Y/N) and Benjamin found themselves engrossed in a conversation. Their topics ranged from the complexities of the supernatural world to the simpler joys of human life. Benjamin's eyes shone with admiration as he listened to (Y/N)'s stories about her experiences as a single mother, her strength and resilience evident in every word.
"(Son's Name) really adores you, you know," (Y/N) said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "He talks about you all the time, like you're some sort of magical hero."
Benjamin chuckled, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the ground. "I'm just someone who can do extraordinary things, (Y/N). To him, it's like watching a living fairy tale."
Their conversation was interrupted by the excited giggles of (Son's Name), who had been playing at the edge of the clearing. In his small hands, he held a cluster of colorful wildflowers that he'd plucked from the meadow.
"Look, Benjamin! I got these for you!" (Son's Name) exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride.
Benjamin accepted the flowers with a grateful smile, the gesture touching his heart more deeply than he could express. He arranged the flowers into a makeshift bouquet, the delicate petals contrasting beautifully against his pale skin. "(Son's Name), these are absolutely lovely. Thank you."
In response, (Son's Name) beamed, his small chest puffing out with pride. Benjamin's appreciation meant the world to him, and his attachment to the vampire with extraordinary powers only seemed to intensify with each passing day.
As the afternoon sun began to dip toward the horizon, (Son's Name) crawled into Benjamin's lap, his head resting against Benjamin's chest. Benjamin's arms encircled the little boy in a gentle embrace, and a sense of contentment settled over them.
"(Son's Name)," Benjamin whispered, his voice a melodic lullaby, "Would you like to see something special before it gets dark?"
(Son's Name)'s eyes widened with anticipation, his curiosity piqued. "Yes, yes, show me!"
With a flicker of his fingers, Benjamin conjured a soft, radiant light that floated above them. It resembled a firefly, its glow soft and enchanting. (Son's Name) watched in awe as the light danced through the air, casting a warm glow on their faces.
"Wow," (Son's Name) breathed, his fingers reaching out to touch the luminous display. "It's like a star!"
As the night sky began to twinkle with stars, (Son's Name) nestled closer to Benjamin, his eyelids growing heavy with sleep. (Y/N) smiled, watching the scene unfold before her. She could sense the deep connection forming between her son and her mate, a bond that transcended words.
With the little boy safely cradled in his arms, Benjamin and (Y/N) exchanged a knowing glance, their hearts filled with a profound sense of gratitude for the family they were creating together. As the night embraced the forest in its tranquil embrace, they knew that their journey was just beginning, with each day promising new magic, love, and the joy of unbreakable bonds.
#x reader#x reader oneshot#x reader one shot#x reader requests#benjamin imagine#benjamin x reader#benjamin x you#twilight benjamin#benjamin imagines#benjamin x y/n#twilight x y/n#twilight x reader#twilight x you#twilight scenario#twilight imagine#twilight#twilight imagines#twilight masterlist
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Snowball Fight on the Hill - Laenor Velaryon x Reader
Summary: Laenor and you end up in a bit of a not so platonic tussle.
Pairing: Modern!Laenor Velaryon x M!Reader
Warnings: profanity, fluff
Word Count: 592 words
A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) though the Laenor simps gang is probably a minority of the fandom, I still wanted to do something special for any male or male identifying readers of the HOTD fanfic reading community for xmas. I hope you enjoy!
lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !
Heavy snowfall was descending all over Driftmark, as you and your best friend, Laenor Velaryon, made your way back to his home, straggling through the snow.
“I don’t understand why your family lives on a fucking hill,” you huffed, pulling your winter parka tighter around you. “Seems excessive. And troublesome.”
“Well, we have a car,” Laenor pointed out, looking less of a drowned rat than you, his posture straight as ever. “It’s too bad my dad doesn’t trust me to drive with snow tires in this weather. Too many chances of black ice, he says.”
You sneezed, rubbing your reddened nose. “I don’t know if I’d rather take black ice over climbing up this fucking hill.”
Laenor brushed some snow out of his dreadlocks, an idea coming to him. “Well, at least the hill is good for one thing,” he said slyly, hoping you wouldn’t notice.
“And what the fuck is that? Catching a cold?” you sneezed again, turning to look at your best friend, only to find him nowhere in sight. “Laenor?”
A hard, small flying projectile hit you on the back of your parka, and you shrieked from the cold. “Snowball fight!” Laenor cackled, standing behind you with his hand loaded with a handful of snow.
“Oh fuck no!” you exclaimed, scooping up your own snowball. “You’re going to regret that, Velaryon!” Laenor continued his maniacal cackling, as the snowball fight soon evolved into more of a snowball tag. You were pelting Laenor relentlessly with snowballs, and he soon regretted making an enemy out of you, as you were faster and much stronger than him.
You were sure that you could win this thing, easily. But then, a huge snowball smacked into your face, making you sputter as some of it went up your nose. Ow. you were pretty sure that it broke your nose from the impact.
Laenor let out a holler of triumph, but it soon turned into one of terror as he saw you brushing off the snow, and charging straight for him like a bull seeing red. Shrieking, Laenor barely had time to defend himself or attack you as he ran for dear life. Unfortunately for him, a well-timed snowball made him slow his pace, and you took the opportunity, tackling him down onto the snowy ground.
“Hey1” Laenor protested and laughed as the both of you began play-fighting on the ground, rolling in the snow as he struggled to regain control of the situation. “That’s what you get for starting a fight with someone, Velaryon,” you teased, soon managing to come out on top, literally and figuratively, as you pinned Laenor to the ground.
“Gotcha,” you smiled, looking very smug. “Begging for mercy isn’t going to get you out of this.” When Laenor remained silent, you took a closer look at his face, blinking the snow from your lashes. He was looking at you with a certain sort of admiration, like you were the sun after a long, arduous trek in the dark up the mountains. Like you were pure gold. Your heart began to thump in your chest, as you reached down, hands shaking, to brush the snow out of Laenor’s face.
“Hey,” Laenor breathed out, staring up at you. “You’re really handsome, you know.” You smirked, trying to hide your blush as you stared down at your not so best friend. “Yeah, you too.”
“Mind going on a Christmas date with me tomorrow? I’ll buy you a gingerbread latte.” Laenor asked coyly, his dark eyes shining mischievously.
“You had me at gingerbread latte.”
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thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘🎄
#aureliawrites#aurelia's imagines#aurelia's one shots#aurelia's christmas series 2023#laenor velaryon#laenor valeryon#laenor x reader#laenor x you#laenor x m!reader#laenor velaryon x reader#laenor velaryon x you#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd fanfic#hotd one shot#hotd fluff#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fic#hotd x y/n#hotd x oc#hotd x reader#hotd x you#gay fanfiction#gay fluff#mlm fluff#mlm fanfic
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apologise ; 18+
requested by ; someone on wattpad (my first ever request for sweet seduction, but rewritten)
word count ; 4051
content ; sexually explicit content, clothed grinding, hand job (male receiving)
fandom ; black butler
pairing ; finnian x cis female reader
read also on ; ao3
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
Though you'd only been employed at the prestigious Phantomhive estate for a short few months, it had been more than enough time to get a grasp on how your colleagues functioned as individuals and as a collective. A well oiled machine manned by the head butler, Mr Sebastian, and under the complete jurisdiction of the young lord — a lad you'd only met once and would much prefer to avoid.
There was just something so... haunting... about him. Something far too old and pained in his eye for someone so young.
So you opted to minimise any direct interaction with your employer, instead focusing your time and attention on the other servants of the manor when possible. Of course this meant spending many a morning conversing with Mr Sebastian, whose company you'd come to appreciate, but it was much more than just professional small talk spoken between daily rounds.
It was quiet mornings spent with Meyrin walking down the labyrinthine hallways of the manor, arms filled with laundry and heads tipped back with lilting laughter as you joked and teased and gossiped your way through your chores. It was busy afternoons spent chasing after Baldroy with a bucket and broom, your faces smeared with gunpowder and your sides aching with bitten back giggles as you try to repair whatever damage his latest cooking scheme had done to the servants' quarter of the estate. It was evenings spent on your knees, feeling blindly under tables and beds and chairs, bare fingertips brushing against soft carpets like clumsy spider's legs as you sought out one of Snake's more rebellious companions — their name on your lips and a dozen voices sprouting from his own.
It was late nights spent awake until your eyelids were too heavy to keep open and your brain too fuzzy to think. Thinking and fantasising until your skin was burning and covered in gooseflesh, until you were clamping your hands over your mouth and giggling like a child. Mind racing as you recalled each and every interaction, minor and major alike, with the estate's gardener; Finnian.
Finny, with eyes so lush and green that Mother Nature herself envies them. Finny, with hair as soft and fluffy as cotton, it's colour spun gold and so pure that the very sun he works under all day admires it. Finny, with a smile so cheery and bright despite all he's gone through, the picture of purity and beauty — an adorable Adonis who stole the breath from your lungs and whose voice struck the match that set your flustered flesh ablaze. Finny, who you adored but could never bring yourself to speak to without making a complete and utter fool of yourself.
That Finny. Oh how much you longed to trade places with the flowerbeds, whose petals he touched with a gentleness unmatched, humming and smiling as he diligently tended to each and every stem and bud. You were sure that they only bloomed so bright because of him — as you felt yourself growing more jovial and alive in his presence so surely they must feel the same way too.
But, still, you could never quite bring yourself to voice such feelings to him. Always falling just shy of confessing as the words died on your tongue like soldiers at war or flowers in a meadow, overrun with the weeds of doubt that stole the confidence from their very roots and left you floundering in awkward silence before you finally — inevitably — gave in and retreated. Another loss for the books.
One of many. You were never really cut out for war, it seemed.
Though today you weren't given the option to flee and hide, because you were the staff's last option and failure on your behalf could disrupt the entire system of the estate. A misspoken word snowballing into raised voices, tools with their mixed metal and wooden parts snapped like toothpicks, tearful glares and a deep canyon of trauma and anger whose broad gap you had to bridge.
Meyrin had been the one to start the whole thing in the first place, a comment about cages and experimentation in a new book she'd been reading having sent Finny into a tearful rage. She didn't want to risk making things worse, having disqualified herself and come to you all for aid.
Bard had tried, but he'd fallen just short of the finish line by making a poorly timed reference to a bird. That had only sent him into another round of hysterics.
Sebastian had tried, but he'd been far too stern and had only agitated Finny further, nearly causing him to lash out and attack. He'd retreated and gone back to his other duties to let him calm down.
Snake and Tanaka were out of the estate, and the young lord was far too ill to get out of bed. So they were out of the running.
That only left you, and you hoped beyond hope that your perpetually tied tongue would loosen itself from the anxious knot it so often found itself in just enough to help your dear friend. To let you find the words you needed rather than leave you spouting pure stammering gibberish as it had so often in the past.
Hoping that that hope was enough.
————
Waiting for Finny to answer you through the greenhouse doors felt like waiting to be hung; stood anxious at the gallows with your eyes trained on your cheap heels and your breath caught in your throat as you counted the seconds. One then two then three and so on, each microsecond spreading onwards for eternity in your own mind, in the silence, until a scratchy, raw voice called out — its tone startlingly, yet not entirely unexpectedly, harsh.
'Who is it?'
You wetted your lips for a moment before responding, calling out your name.
'I told them I wanted to be left alone,' stern and unwavering, so very unlike himself.
'Well, yes, but I — we — just wanted to check that you were okay,' when he didn't respond you continued, speeding up as your words became more disjointed and jumbled, 'Mey said you were really upset and you know she didn't mean to upset you. She just misspoke, you know how often she says silly things. And when you ran off she was terrified and we're all really worried about you and,'
'I said I want to be left alone,'
Cold and harsh and certain and low. Yet his voice still cracked with what were surely tears and you felt your heart break for him.
'Finny, please, let me h-'
An echoing slam, deep as thunder in a raging storm, rang out through the large building, cracking the upper panel of the door beside your hand. Causing you to flinch away and cower in on yourself as a final shout followed.
'Leave me alone!'
And then deathly, painful, infectious silence.
As loud as thunder and as quiet as the grave all at once; heavy with the implications of what remained unsaid whilst you remained frozen in place, staring through the cracked panel at the distorted, quivering silhouette on the other side. You were so close that you could hear the tremble in his voice and his sobs despite his best efforts to hide them — despite him burying his face in his hands and huddling in on himself. He was more scared than angry, so you swallowed down your own anxiety and grounded yourself.
Then, after taking a few deep breaths, you wrapped your hand around the handle and pushed it down. The click echoing off of the tall glass walls as you stepped into the sweltering room and carefully closed the door behind you.
No going back now.
————
You took a tentative step forward. And then another and another; carefully inching your way towards Finny's trembling figure whilst skilfully avoiding the spilled, cracked plant pot shards that now decorated the tiled floor. The soft clicking of your heels and the soft scratch of clay against porcelain filling the otherwise silent room and overpowering the soft sniffles and sobs coming from the man in front of you — until you came to a halt a few inches in front of him and crouched down to his level.
‘Hey…’
‘Go away,’
‘Finny,’ you sighed, placing a hand on his knee and gently squeezing once, then twice, ‘I promise that I don’t mean you any harm. I just want to help you — we all do. So will you please listen to what I have to say? Just a little bit?’
Your prodding earned you a small victory — him shifting around enough to be able to look at you over his knees — but small was still better than nothing so you celebrated whatever progress you could make.
‘Thank you,’ you smiled at him and he looked away, ‘now as I was saying; Mey feels terrible about what happened and wants to make amends with you, if you’ll allow it. She’s the one that came and got us to talk to you — it’s why Bard and Mr Sebastian and I have all stopped by. We — I — care about you and I want to help you out, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me help you,’
You could see more tears start to well up in his eyes and panicked slightly, brain running a mile a minute to try and come up with something — anything — that could help make this situation better only to keep coming back with nothing. Leaving you gaping like a fish out of water, completely at a loss as you sought out any sort of solution.
So completely and utterly caught up in your inner turmoil that you didn’t notice Finny shifting again until he’d already launched himself forwards and tackled you to the ground in a tearful, almost bone-crushing, hug.
————
The moment you hit the floor you froze, unable to even react when the apologies started falling from his lips and the salt of his tears dripped down and gathered in the dips of your collarbone. Mind racing so fast that your body was unable to catch up, just barely processing the sting of your back as it started to fade and registering the weight of his body atop your own as he obliviously settled between your legs — pressing his crotch against your own as he tearily begged for your forgiveness.
But once you finally regained your bearings, you were quick to comfort him — raising yourself up on your elbows and moving to brush some fly-away hairs out of his face. Shushing him and whispering reassurances whilst caressing the sides of his face and brushing away his tears with a feather light touch. A few dozen 'it's okay's and 'I believe you's and 'I've got you's coming from your bitten lips as easily as breath — your tone sweet and genuine but no less firm for it, grounding him bit by bit with your repetitions until he was no longer sobbing and clinging to you like you’d scatter like pollen in the wind once he let go.
But the moment he pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, soft lips quivering and forest green eyes fretful and wet, whatever confidence you’d managed to scrape together was washed away — leaving your mind scattered and lost like a well-worn ship at sea. Grasping for some semblance of coherency as you faltered and floundered and flustered under that wide-eyed, gemstone gaze — stammering and stuttering and tripping over your knotted tongue until you finally managed to blurt out something.
‘You’re beautiful,’
Finny faltered under your unexpected praise, doe eyes widening a fraction as a wave of blushing, startled pink slowly spread up from his collarbone to his cheeks. He swallowed and your eyes flicked down to watch his Adam’s Apple bob up and down — had your throat always been this dry? — before he offered a response that was closer to a squeak than a question.
‘What?’
For a split second you considered backing out and backing down. Contemplated spewing a hundred excuses that felt a thousand times more hollow than the cracked cocoons he’d brought in from the garden earlier that week and that burned the tongue more than the fire that was blazing just beneath the skin of your face and throat. Lying to his face and fleeing, going back to the manor and asking Meyrin to just bite the bullet and apologise…
But you didn’t.
‘I… I said that you’re beautiful, Finny,’ god it felt good to finally say that out loud, relief flooding your veins even as your hands trembled as they touched his burning cheek and as your heart beat so loudly that you could barely hear yourself think.
‘You-You really think that?’
Green eyes — greener than the flourishing plants to which he tended, greener than the perfectly polished gemstones that decorated the themed jewellery worn by the young madam for the summer gala, greener than anything you’d ever seen — glinted with a sort of hope that you couldn’t quite place, clouded with a hesitance you knew all too well and yet still shining brightly through it all.
‘Of course I do!’ You responded firmly, shocked by your own sureness as you coughed into your fist and continued in something just above a whisper, averting your eyes to a suddenly very interesting fraction of plant pot as you spoke. ‘I always have,’
He was silent for a few moments and you felt your heart sink, blood pumping deafeningly in your ears as you started to panic. Thoughts of losing any chance to be with him, of losing your job, of losing your place all buzzing around your mind like a malicious storm — tears welling up in your eyes as it all became too much. Too much. Too much.
But then you felt a work calloused hand on the side of your face — rough thumb wiping away your shed tears with an unmatched gentleness and it all stopped. Silence, once again, until you finally turned your head and received a wordless acceptance of your confession.
A kiss so harsh and passionate that it sent you crashing back down onto the tiled floor — your own hands flying up to bury themselves in his hair as he deepened the kiss. Your lips parted in a startled gasp, which was eagerly swallowed by Finny’s soft lips and before long you found yourself lost in the moment: tilting your head in time with his own, experimentally gliding your tongue along his and delighting in the way you felt him shiver and groan, carding your hands through his messy blond hair and relishing in the way you felt him melt into you even further. Loved and loving and messy and passionate but pure.
Pure until he lent forwards in just the right way and pressed his crotch directly down against your already wet sex — the scratchy material of his uniform catching on the smooth cotton of your drawers to create a sinful combination of sensations that immediately coaxed a moan from your throat. A sound that sent a shockwave of heat straight to his own centre as you felt him starting to harden against your sex.
A sound that he swallowed just as eagerly as before until his mind caught up with his body and he realised just what had happened. Mortified, then, he started to pull away — the motion causing his length to brush against your slit once again and coaxing a fresh moan from you that had him reddening further — apologies already forming on the tip of his tongue and fretful tears brimming in his eyes as he went to speak. Though before he was able to get a word out, he was swiftly interrupted by your breathy plea and your soft hands gently tugging him back down, offering him an opportunity that had him letting out a whimper of his own.
‘Please, Finny, don’t stop,’
And, thankfully, he didn’t.
————
You were clumsy at first — both of you were — jittery with nerves and jerky with inexperience but still somehow able to make it work as you settled into something resembling an actual rhythm. Wrapping your stocking-clad legs around his waist and pulling him down against you whilst he ground his hips against yours — clothed erection hard and throbbing as it rubbed against your needy pussy, creating a delicious sort of friction that had you soaking through your undergarments far quicker than you'd like to admit. So wet that you were sure that you were starting to dampen the outside of his trousers, but if he felt anything he never made a point to mention it.
It was fast and rough and messy, your mutual desperation for release and for each other bleeding into your every action like water trickling from a stream to the sea. Clear as crystal through the way you arched your back up into his chest and one of those wonderfully gentle hands immediately wrapped around and beneath you to pull you closer to him. Apparent in the way neither of you made any effort to break the kiss, only separating by the merest of millimetres every few moments to catch your breath before diving forwards once again; lips and chins and cheeks smeared with saliva as you moaned and groaned and whimpered against each other, utterly oblivious (or, perhaps, apathetic) of the mess you'd made of yourselves. Obvious in the way that you moved against and with each other: circular grinding, bucking in tandem, downwards thrusts and so on — chasing those individual highs together as you held each other tighter and tighter and tighter.
Tighter until you could barely breath and it still wasn't enough. Though, by now, in the state you were in, even becoming one wouldn't be close enough — you just needed him. Needed his hands on your body, his lips on your own and you needed to make him feel good.
To make him moan and whine and gasp and say your name in that light and airy voice of his again and again and again. The need to pleasure him overwhelming what remained of your coherent mind until you were unable to stand it anymore and finally let yourself give in to that impulse.
Ever so slowly you started to inch your hand lower and lower between your bodies, cautiously palming his hard cock through the scratchy fabric of his uniform — coaxing a deep moan from the base of his throat that sent another wave of pleasure straight to your core. Then, after a short while of slow, gentle groping, you finally built up the confidence to reach into his trousers and wrap your soft hand around his throbbing dick — moaning at the feeling of its weight in your palm as you started to clumsily jerk him off.
Slowly — slowly — you traced your loose fist along his length, fisting from twitching base to swollen tip once, then twice, and again and again and again. Settling into a comfortable rhythm that had his hips bucking into your hand and him moaning and groaning against your lips — sounds and actions so erotic that you couldn't help but start to grind up against him in return, seeking stimulation for your throbbing, needy cunt. Aching for his dick, so painfully thick that you could already anticipate the stretch that would happen once he was finally inside of you; the mouthwatering sting that you were already craving through the lustful, heavy fog of your mind.
Though what few coherent thoughts you managed to scrape together soon dissipated once Finny broke the kiss and leaned downwards to press his lips to the underside of your jaw. Stealing your awareness and your breath with every peck of his addictively soft lips against your skin as he trailed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, over your pulse point and down further to your collarbone before making his way back upwards. A rhythm all of his own that had you panting and whimpering and moaning — one hand in his hair and the other still wrapped around his throbbing length.
As moments turned to seconds turned to minutes you lost yourself to the feeling of his lips and hands on your body — all trails of thought leading back to him: his clothed cock grinding against your sodden panties, creating a delicious friction that drove you closer to the edge with every buck and grind; his soft lips, gentle still in spite of everything he was made to be, which he lovingly trailed along the arc of your neck and which curved handsomely upwards when your pulse jumped beneath his feather-light touch; his warm, work-rough hands, which held onto you with a strength and tenderness that had your pussy aching and that nervously massaged your breasts with an uncertainness that you were near-certain was reflected in your own clumsy ministrations.
The humid air of the conservatory mixed with the flustered flame burning beneath your own skin to create a cocktail of sweat and slick and precum that soiled your work clothes and cling to your skin in a way that you'd have hated had you been in the mind to recognise it. Though both of you were too far gone to even acknowledge the world beyond yourselves — beyond the hot skin, the soft mouths, the grinding of sex on sex only kept modest by the thinnest layers of cloth, the moans and groans and whimpers and sighs — everything else having faded away the moment that his clothed cock brushed against your needy, covered cunt all those minutes ago.
Then all at once something snaps. Finny's pace stutters and jerks as he lets out a sound somewhere between a sob and a whimper against the crook of your neck — hot, throbbing dick spurting his release in waves that cover your hand and soak into his trousers. Whining and sobbing as he presses his shaking hips harshly downwards, button catching against your neglected clit in a single, rough brushing of drenched cotton against plaid that had you falling over the edge of climax mere moments later.
It was all you wanted it to be and so much more: your vision was invaded with flashing blurs of white, stark as fireworks on a clear and moonless night as they clung stubbornly to the insides of your eyelids; your thighs and pussy and underwear were soaked through with your slick, wetness gushing out unbidden until you were coated so thoroughly that you couldn’t even move without noticing it’s cool and lewd presence on your gooseflesh-ridden skin; your heart was pounding madly, so loud and quick that your hearing was overwhelmed with the sound of the blood rushing in your ears that you could barely even hear yourself moaning and whining and groaning and panting; your limbs were trembling so badly that if it weren’t for Finny’s unrelenting grip that you were sure you’d have collapsed into a pleasure-ridden mass of writhing limbs.
Grounded only by the feeling of his lips on your skin as you both came down from your highs — by the way his messy hair felt beneath your fingertips as you soothed and massages his scalp. Sated by his warm weight on your body as he finally collapsed on top of you, wrapping you up in a loose hug as he just panted and gasped and regained his composure — all the while burying his reddened face in your chest. Kept sane by the feeling of the cold tile beneath your head as you finally gave in and laid back down on the floor, the pleasant chill helping you find your peace as you let yourself relax and catch your breath properly.
You could have stayed there forever if given the chance, laying in his arms saturated with a pleasure unlike any you’d experienced before, and gladly would have had it not been for a less than ideal interruption. The sort that had both of you rushing to readjust your uniforms and hide the evidence of what had taken place as best you could — all burning cheeks and terrified looks and shaking hands — not wanting to be seen in such a delicate state.
The clicking of heels. The humming of a lilting feminine voice. The silhouette of a telltale maid’s dress dancing across the front of the greenhouse.
Oh dear.
#sleepingdeath#female reader#minors dni#minors dont touch#minors fuck off#smut#smut fic#black butler smut#black butler finny smut#kuroshitsuji smut#kuroshitsuji finny smut#black butler finny x reader#kuroshitsuji finny x reader#black butler x reader#kuroshitsuji x reader#female reader smut
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My thoughts on Spy x Family Chapter 79
So, as I've been more active on the SXF fandom and specially here on Tumblr, I thought I could make a short (spoiler: it was everything but short) post of every new chapter coming out. It's not really an in depth analysis, rather a personal view on the chapter as someone who is amazed by this manga and everything related to it, so let's go.
Quick disclaimer, before we start. I'm doing this in English, as I believe it's easier to reach out to others (rather than in Portuguese, my mother language), so, if you encounter some grammar or spelling mistakes, it's probably due to me being a bilingual mess, sorry about that.
I absolutely loved the fact that it was Sharon who noticed about Yor being more communicative with them (and it was her the one doing a lot of other things I will be mentioning here later) which really surprised me. It's really fun to see how the relationship of Yor and her colleagues are improving (and considering chapter 1 and 2, that was a hell of an improvement, specially Camilla).
Okay, I relate to Yor a lot. Mainly because I recognize someone with low self-esteem when I see it. And the fact that she believes it's a bother to be more communicative with others and apologized has got me, but I'm glad Sharon said what I was thinking (girl, you are a precious baby, why a bother?). It's also nice to see Sharon worrying about Anya.
This part is absolutely awesome. Sharon asking if Yor was coming with them, leaving Millie and Camilla surprised. It was definitely a first, as Millie said, so it got me even sadder when I realized that Yor was not at all expected to be invited, which makes me believe it's something that has happened before. And it happened a lot, her being left out by her colleagues. Totally breaks my heart (cause I believe Yor is a peanut and deserve to be protected, if you haven't noticed it yet), so I'm really glad to see some improvement.
I love the fact that she worries about calling Loid. Specially because she doesn't need to pretend for him, okay, sure, she wants to appear normal, to not be seen as an assassin, but with Loid her guard is getting down and down, which is very good (ship wise). I truly believe that her calling him wasn't for the looks, but due to her actually worrying about him or Anya waiting for her to have dinner. It's really cute.
She is so adorable, what the actual heck? Okay, moving on.
Someone pointed this out (I don't know who, I'm really sorry) about their drink glasses. While Yor has a quite small cocktail-ish glass, Millie, Sharon, and Camilla have big beer cups, which, again, is a detail. However, I absolutely love Endo's sense of detailing on this manga, to show Yor's weak for booze in subtle ways.
Yor immediately blushing after Camilla simply asks if her and Loid are getting along is pure gold. I truly believe it is not solely her drunk blushing (since it goes all over her face and chest sometimes, while on this she is blushing only on her cheeks). Then, Millie realizing it, puts more fire on it (poor Yor, yet go Millie, at least this time).
And Yor coming up with something that I value her for thinking about, which is a child perception of intimacy in her home, is awesome.
It's cute how she thinks that about Loid, it's actually quite cute. Something NOT CUTE is Camilla and Millie still thinking crap about Yor's marriage. Specifically Millie, she wants to tell Yor to dump her hubby, why tho? Is everyone in freaking Berlint wanting Loid? (can I judge them? Yes! But also no!). Girly Yor, I'm ready to be jealous and defensive for you.
Yes, Yor, he is absolutely perfect, he does everything. Can we, please, talk about the "why don't you take a hot bath?" part? No? Overreacting much? Okay.
Please, Yor, no one believes you hate everything about Roid. Opsie, Loid. It's pretty much the opposite, actually. Who are you trying to fool, girl?
I believe this bit is self-explanatory. I laughed so much my tummy hurt. No much else to say here. The incoherency of Yor's drunk mind had me rolling.
LOOK. AT. THAT. MAN! Woof. Is this how Loid is 24/7 on Yor's head? Cause, girl, I'm worried about you. Truly. Other than that, can we please talk about how comic is her with that knife? How non-threatening it looks? (I mean, kinda, look at those eyes).
No comment, they are being so nice here. I'm surprised by Millie, mostly. They can be good friends, it just takes a while and more intimacy to be built around them, I believe, hope I'm not wrong.
Poor Yor, not even a welcome home kiss? That's a valid statement, Sharon. You rock! Sharon is the number 1 twiyor fan and nothing can change my mind about it.
Her mind is so fried. Again, poor Yor!
Too many things happening here! First, Yor's colleagues recognizing she is actually fun to be around and probably Sharon suggesting that they should invite her out again some time. I'm truly happy about the end of this chapter, her co-workers wise, because It's such a big improvement. Yor would not communicate with them, and they would be so bitter with her (specially Millie and Camilla). Look how far we've got! That's some major improvement and I'm proud.
Now, to the most important thing ever of this chapter, the kiss attempt! Okay, a little before that, when Loid asked if she had a good time. Am I overreacting to the bare minimum, or there is something else about him? He is so adorable and such a great husband (for the mission). Look at that confused little face.
I bet all the 25 cents I have that Endo was cracking up drawing this face. I laughed way more than I should, oh, poor Yor
It's been 79 chapters, my folks, and we got a tiny bit of happiness. They are so adorable! Look at them? Kiss NOW. One thing I noticed is how big Loid is compared to Yor, look at his body, at that hand size difference. That's… Quite nice, it's all I'm going to say about it. (Is it hot in here? No? Okay).
The second bar is up and rising!
Even though Yor has a tremendous high tolerance to pain, I would not be surprised If she woke up to a big bulge in her head in the morning. And worse, probably she won't even remember a thing, which takes us to the scale zero again. Damn it, it's hard to see these two idiots realizing they are so in love for each other. However, this chapter was all my heart needed. We begged for twiyor, Endo laughed at us and prolonged our suffering. I want more of that, sir, if you don't mind.
My hope is Anya bringing up this on the breakfast morning. That would be quite interesting.
That's all, folks. It ain't much, but it's honest work. This turned out to be way longer than I expected, but also incredibly fun! Hope you guys had fun reading as well.
#Spy x Family#Yor#Twilight#Loid#Anya#Yor Forger#Bond Forger#Loid Forger#Anya Forger#LoidYor#TwiYor#Chapter79#SxF#Tatsuya Endo#Manga#Chapter Analysis#Loid and Yor#Loid x Yor#SxF Yor#SxF Twilight#SxF Millie#SxF Camilla#SxF Sharonn#Millie#Camilla#Sharon
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