#I'm definitely in a bit of a bind here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hummingbird24220 · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request reader making friendship bracelets for the strawhats but the bracelets are attached to their devil fruit power, I'm thinking it's a variation of 'red string of fate' except that when reader froms a strong bond with someone they become tied together allowing them to gain power through these ties (basically the power of friendship lol) the bracelets themselves aren't a part of the devil fruit just a cute thing reader does to help others visualize what they mean to them (as only reader can actually see the strings of fate)

Anyways the plot would be the strawhats reactions to the friendship bracelets (whether or not they know about the significance of them is up to you) this is mostly platonic strawhats but if you wanted to add romance that's cool too!

You don't have to write for all the strawhats if you don't want to but I definitely wanna see Robin's reaction to a friendship bracelet! (I think she'd really enjoy having a physical object to embody friendship)

(Sorry the ask was so long, love your writing! <3)

Glad you love my writing! Lovely to hear <3

I really liked this prompt - i love the string of fate stuff, makes me feel a bit gooey inside hehe

I could have kept going on this forevvverrrrrrrr i love the concept... spin off mini series anyone?!?!

Hope you enjoy reading!

Ties That Bind (Part 1)

One Piece x Fem!Reader

The kitchen was warm with the scent of Sanji’s post-lunch tea blend, a hint of citrus and mint lingering in the air. Everyone had gathered around the table like they usually did after a big meal, laughter still dying down from Luffy’s latest story about nearly punching a sky island seagull by accident.

You sat near the end of the table, a small box of thread, beads, and charm trinkets sitting beside your teacup. Nami had noticed it earlier and complimented the little braided bracelet you wore on your wrist—blue with a tiny compass bead. You smiled and muttered something vague, but now, with everyone calm and relatively in one place, you figured it was time to explain it properly.

You shifted in your seat, fiddling with a half-finished bracelet in your hands.

"Hey... can I tell you guys something?" you asked, your voice a little hesitant but clear.

Zoro tilted his head lazily, arms crossed. "If it's a confession about secretly being a government spy, say it now."

"I knew something was weird!" Usopp pointed dramatically.

"Shut up, Usopp," said Nami, elbowing him gently. "Go on, [Y/N]."

Luffy leaned forward like a kid about to hear a ghost story, chin propped up on his hands. "Yeah, yeah! Is it about your powers?"

You blinked, surprised. "...You knew?"

"Of course!" he beamed. "You smell like magic. Or maybe cinnamon. I dunno."

You laughed nervously but nodded. "Okay, yeah. So, my Devil Fruit is called the Saiken saiken no Mi—it means something like the Bond-Bond Fruit. It's… hard to explain, but basically, when I form a strong bond with someone, I can see it. Like... a thread tying us together."

Robin perked up with interest, lacing her fingers together. "A thread of fate, perhaps?"

You nodded. "Exactly. Only I can see them. Some are faint, some are bright, but the stronger the connection, the more... real they feel. And through them, I get stronger. I borrow strength from the people I'm tied to."

"So like the power of friendship?" Franky grinned. "That's super classic."

"Basically, yeah." You smiled sheepishly. "But I didn't want to freak anyone out by suddenly saying I see invisible strings attached to you all, so I started making these—" you held up the bracelet in your hand, bright orange with a tiny seashell charm, “—to kinda... represent the bonds I feel. For me, and maybe for you too. Something physical. Something nice."

Chopper gasped, eyes sparkling. "That's so cool! Wait—do I have one?"

You reached into the box and pulled out a little bracelet with white and pink beads, shaped like sakura petals. "Here."

Chopper practically exploded into a blushing mess as he took it, clutching it like it was the most sacred treasure in the Grand Line.

"You've been tying us together this whole time..." Brook said wistfully, his empty eye sockets looking soft. "Even without us knowing."

"You don’t have to wear them," you quickly added. "I just… wanted you all to know what you mean to me."

Nami’s bracelet was gold and teal with a tiny bell. Sanji’s was red and black, with a flame-shaped charm. Usopp’s had earthy tones and a little slingshot bead. Robin’s was elegant, deep violet and lace-like. Franky's had tiny gear charms. Brook’s was ivory and had musical notes.

You hesitated before pulling out the one meant for Zoro—green with a single white bead shaped like a sword—and Luffy’s: red, simple, but with a tiny anchor charm that seemed to glow with joy.

Zoro took his with a grunt of approval and a quiet, "Thanks." You swore his ears turned pink.

Sanji nearly cried over his. "You handmade this for me? Angel."

Robin turned the bracelet in her fingers thoughtfully. "You truly see something special in everyone, don’t you?"

You just smiled. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

"Wait, wait!" Luffy waved his hands. "So if you get stronger from bonds, what happens if you get, like, super close with someone?"

You blinked, surprised by the question—and the slight glimmer of teasing in his grin.

"Well," you said, "the bond gets stronger, and so does the power. I guess, in theory… the closest bond of all would make me unstoppable."

"Like a best friend?" Usopp grinned.

"...Sure," you said, smiling softly.

The mood on the Sunny shifted, but in the best way. A kind of quiet awe had settled over the table as each member of the crew examined their bracelet like it was a rare treasure.

Robin wore hers immediately, slipping it onto her wrist with a graceful flick. “It’s strange,” she murmured. “I’ve spent a long time surrounded by people who only wanted to use me. And now, someone wants to... tie themselves to me.” She looked up and smiled warmly. “It’s rather beautiful.”

Brook held his up to the sunlight. “Yohohoho! If only I had skin to feel this against. Still, I will treasure it forever, just as I treasure our friendship. Though if you ever want to make me a matching anklet—”

“No,” Zoro muttered flatly.

Nami had looped hers around her wrist, then her ankle, then back to her wrist. “It’s fashionable. Very versatile. And handmade, which gives it value.” She glanced at you with an amused smirk. “Also, you’re incredibly sentimental, aren’t you?”

Sanji sighed like he’d just been proposed to. “You tied a thread to my heart, mon ange…”

Usopp had immediately put his on and now kept glancing down at it like it was going to disappear. “So wait, if I make my bond with you stronger, do you get stronger, or do I get stronger too? ‘Cause I’m just saying, team synergy is really underrated in combat situations—”

“HEY!” Luffy suddenly slammed his hands on the table, bracelet proudly on display. “If getting strong means making super strong bonds, then we gotta do that right now. Everyone! Bonding time!”

Chopper gasped. “Really?!”

Franky slammed his drink down. “Super bonding?! Count me in!”

You blinked. “Wait, what—”

“We should do a group activity,” Luffy declared with the confidence of a king. “Something that makes [Y/N] feel extra connected to us. Like… a trust fall. Or a big team nap.”

“That’s not how it works,” you laughed. “You can’t force connection, it just happens over time.”

“Time? We don’t have time! What if we fight someone really strong next week? You gotta be ready!”

Zoro leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You’re gonna give her emotional whiplash.”

But Luffy was already on his feet. “Let’s all tell [Y/N] a secret! That’ll make us close, right?”

“Captain,” Robin said lightly, “you’re rather enthusiastic about this.”

He beamed at you. “You’re part of my crew now. That means we’re all family. And if your powers run on family juice, then we need to juice it up!”

“…I’m gonna pretend that made sense,” you muttered, but your heart felt like it might burst.

Chopper jumped onto the table. “Okay, okay! I’ll go first! I pretend to be tough sometimes, but sometimes I cry when people call me a monster. But you never did, [Y/N]. That’s why I love you.”

Your eyes welled up immediately. “Chopper…”

“MY TURN,” Sanji shouted. “Sometimes I make extra portions ‘by accident’ just to see if you’ll pick mine over the others.”

“Obviously she does,” Zoro muttered. “Your curry’s hotter than a volcano’s butt.”

“I ENJOY COMPLIMENTS.”

Nami tapped her bracelet thoughtfully. “I hoard money because I’m still afraid. I trust you, though. You never once looked at me like I was a thief. Just… a navigator.”

Usopp cleared his throat. “I, uh… I used to make up stories about people like you. People who cared without needing a reason. Now one of them’s real.”

Your hand trembled as you clutched the box of threads to your chest. “You guys…”

Robin gave you a serene look. “You’re weaving more than bracelets, [Y/N]. You’re weaving a place for yourself. And we’re honored to be caught in your thread.”

Then all heads turned to Luffy.

He was sitting quietly now, looking down at his bracelet. And for once, his usual grin was softer. Quieter.

“My secret is…” he looked up, “...I already feel strongest when I know you guys are with me. That’s why I don’t need a power like yours. I already believe in it.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until Chopper started panicking and tossing tissues at your face.

Luffy stood up, walked over, and plopped his hat on your head.

“So, bonding time worked?” he asked, eyes hopeful.

You sniffled, clutching the rim of his hat. “Yeah. Yeah, it really worked.”

The sky had begun to blush with streaks of orange and lavender, soft waves lapping gently at the Sunny's hull. The energy from Luffy’s “crew bonding time” had finally died down, with Franky tinkering below deck, Sanji prepping dinner, and Zoro pretending not to nap on the lawn. A peaceful calm had settled over the ship.

You sat on a lounge chair on the deck, a warm cup of tea cradled in your hands. Steam curled upward, swirling through the threads—those glowing, invisible strings that stretched between you and every corner of the Sunny.

Some shimmered like fresh starlight, others pulsed like gentle heartbeats. Each one was different—some chaotic, some serene—but they all led back to you. A net of connection. Of love, loyalty, and laughter. And though no one else could see them, they were as real to you as the sea itself.

You smiled softly.

“May I join you?” came a gentle voice.

You looked up to find Robin approaching, a book tucked under one arm, her bracelet glinting softly in the fading light. Deep violet thread, tiny rose-gold accents, and a small book charm nestled at its center.

“Of course,” you said, shifting to make room.

She sat beside you, graceful as ever, folding one leg over the other and setting her book in her lap. For a moment, she said nothing—just sipped her own tea, gazing out at the horizon.

Then her voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful. “I’ve received many gifts in my life. Few as... sincere as this.”

You glanced at her wrist, where the bracelet sat snugly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I don’t just like it,” she said. “I feel it. It’s strange. Even without seeing the threads, it feels like something is tied between us. Like it’s always been there, waiting.”

You stared into your cup for a long second, then spoke. “Sometimes… I wonder if people will misunderstand. That they’ll think I’m only getting close to others because it makes me stronger. That I’m just… using them.”

Robin turned toward you, eyes calm but sharp.

“That kind of power can’t be forced. And it certainly can’t be faked.”

You looked up.

“Your ability,” she said gently, “only works because you truly care. That’s what makes it powerful. And dangerous. Because if someone hurt one of us…” Her expression darkened for the briefest second. “I imagine you’d become unstoppable.”

You laughed softly, the sound half-embarrassed, half-relieved. “I guess I’d better stay on your good side.”

Robin smiled, but her gaze lingered on her bracelet. She ran her fingers over the little book charm, and for a brief moment, her lips trembled.

“I’ve spent most of my life being hunted,” she said. “Wanted. Feared. I never imagined someone would look at me and think, She matters enough to tie a thread to. But you did. And it means more than I know how to say.”

You nudged her shoulder gently, trying to keep things light. “Aw, Robin, don’t get all weepy on me now. You’re gonna make me cry, and then Chopper’s gonna panic again.”

She chuckled, brushing beneath one eye. “Too late.”

The sun dipped lower, gold spilling over the deck like spilled treasure. The threads shimmered in your mind’s eye—especially hers, now glowing warmer than ever.

“Thanks for sitting with me,” you murmured.

“Any time,” she said. “After all… we’re tied together now.”

Time aboard the Sunny had passed quick, and with each moment, your bonds grew stronger. You grew stronger.

Smoke curled through the dense trees of the island, the once-quiet jungle now a torn battlefield. Explosions echoed through the valley, and the Straw Hats were spread out, locked in skirmishes with a group of mercenaries hired to capture Devil Fruit users.

You stood at the center of it all—heart pounding, blood buzzing, a quiet hum in your ears like a rising crescendo.

This fight was different.

Not just because it was brutal—but because something inside you had clicked.

You could see the threads now. Not just shimmering faintly, but glowing. Pulsing. They surrounded you like a constellation, each one tied to someone you loved—and every single one sang with emotion.

Fear. Loyalty. Determination. Trust. Power.

A whip lashed toward you, charged with Haki. You dodged on instinct—not your own, but one you'd learned from watching Sanji every time he danced through the air.

You spun and dropped into a low sweep-kick, following through with an upward strike so fast your knuckles cracked the air—Luffy’s wild, rubbery rhythm channeled through your limbs, even without the stretch.

Your opponent staggered.

Then another merc came at you from behind, swinging a jagged blade—and you turned, blade in hand. Not your usual style. But the grip? The stance?

Zoro.

You moved with clean precision, a flash of green and steel in your mind, parrying the attack with force that sent vibrations up your arm. You didn’t hesitate—you let the bonds guide you.

Zoro’s quiet grit. Sanji’s graceful fire. Luffy’s reckless, joyful strength.

You weren’t mimicking them—you were fighting like someone who knew them inside and out. Someone shaped by them.

Across the battlefield, the others started to notice.

“Whoa—IS THAT [Y/N]?!” Usopp shouted from behind a crumbling stone wall.

“No way…” Chopper gasped, peeking over a boulder. “That move looked just like Sanji’s!”

Sanji froze mid-spin-kick, locking eyes with you across the field. “What the hell—did you just copy my move, sweetheart?!”

You grinned, lips bloody but eyes blazing. “Call it inspiration!”

“Oi!” Zoro barked, slicing through a trio of enemies. “I taught you that stance in a spar ONCE. ONCE!”

You shrugged, twirling the enemy’s weapon and chucking it back at another target with expert aim. “Guess it stuck.”

Robin, from above on a summoned flower-wing platform, watched with quiet awe. “She’s drawing strength from us… not like a parasite, but like a mirror.”

“She’s shining,” Nami whispered.

Luffy was the last to notice, mid-fight and laughing as he socked someone square in the jaw. Then his eyes landed on you—your form alive with golden threads dancing at your back like celestial ribbons.

His grin stretched wide.

“[Y/N]!!!” he called, ducking a punch and flinging an arm toward you. “YOU LOOK SO COOL RIGHT NOW!!!”

You burst out laughing, mid-spin, driving your heel into the ground and launching a mercenary several feet through the air.

One by one, the mercenaries began to retreat. You stood there panting, the threads still glowing—stronger than ever. And through them, you could feel it:

The bond. The trust. The undeniable connection.

Not just power borrowed—but power forged. Through shared meals. Inside jokes. Long nights and sea storms.

This strength wasn’t just yours. It was theirs, too.

As the battlefield quieted and the others regrouped, Luffy jogged up to you, hands on his hips.

“That was awesome,” he said, breathless with excitement. “You fought like all of us at once!”

You wiped blood from your lip and smiled. “Guess you guys are rubbing off on me.”

“Or maybe,” Robin said as she landed beside you, her bracelet faintly glowing, “you’ve finally started to see just how deeply we’re all tied together.”

You looked around at your crew—your family. The threads between you pulsed in soft, steady rhythm.

Yeah. You saw it. And now, they could, too.

The stars were beginning to peek through the darkened sky, the moon a silver coin casting gentle light across the deck. The crew was scattered around the Sunny in various states of exhaustion and satisfaction—wounds bandaged, bellies full, spirits high.

You sat at the bow, legs swinging over the edge, a mug of something warm cradled in your hands. The threads in your mind’s eye were quiet now, humming softly. Still glowing. Still strong.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about the battle—how instinctively the power had come, how natural it had felt to move with pieces of your friends inside you. It hadn’t been overwhelming. It had been comforting. Empowering.

You smiled faintly.

“Hey.”

You turned. Luffy stood behind you, hands in his pockets, his bracelet catching the moonlight. There was something different about his expression—still playful, still curious, but... softer. Quieter.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Sure.”

He stepped closer, then sat beside you, stretching his legs out. “Can I… see them?”

You blinked. “See what?”

He turned to you, eyes wide with that impossible brightness. “The threads. The ones that tie us all together.”

Your heart stilled.

No one had ever asked before. Not seriously. Not like this. You’d always assumed it was just your burden—your gift. Your curse. A secret window only you could peer through.

You stared down at your hand, at the glowing lines stretching outward like an unseen web. “I… I don’t know if I can make them visible to others.”

Luffy didn’t push. He just tilted his head. “Wanna try?”

You looked at him for a moment.

Then nodded.

You set your mug down, sat up straight, and closed your eyes.

It started as a pull in your chest—like tugging thread through a needle. Carefully, slowly, you began to unravel that perception, pushing it outward. Extending it beyond yourself. You reached into the core of your fruit’s power, channeling not just energy, but emotion. Every laugh, every fight, every quiet cup of tea and silly card game and comforting shoulder.

You felt your fingers tremble.

Then—

“…Whoa,” Luffy whispered.

You opened your eyes.

The deck glowed.

Not brightly, not like fire or lightning—but soft, gentle light. Golden threads stretched between you and every single one of your crewmates, weaving through the ship like constellations. Some threads pulsed bright and strong—like the one leading from you to Luffy, or to Chopper, or to Robin. Others had more subtle glows, warm and steady.

Each thread was unique—colors, textures, patterns. You could feel their personalities through them.

Zoro’s thread was taut and grounded, like woven steel. Sanji’s danced with warmth, flickering like firelight. Nami’s sparkled with bursts of gold, laced with stormy energy. Robin’s was velvet-smooth, deep violet with intricate knots. Luffy’s—brightest of all—was wild and fluid, chaotic and beautiful. A living firework.

The crew slowly gathered, one by one, drawn by the shift in the air.

“What is this…” Nami whispered, stepping closer to one of the floating threads.

“Are these… ours?” Chopper asked, reaching out with trembling hooves.

“They’re real,” Zoro muttered, watching one pulse with his breath.

You were sweating now, concentrating hard. It took everything to maintain this projection—but you wanted them to see it. You wanted them to know.

“This is what I see,” you said quietly. “Every day. Every bond. Every thread that ties me to you.”

Robin stood beside you, eyes shimmering. “It’s beautiful.”

Usopp sniffled. “Why does mine look like it’s got beads on it?”

“Because I know how much you love flair,” you teased, voice trembling.

Luffy’s eyes hadn’t left the threads. His face was a mix of awe and joy, the kind of pure reaction only he could pull off.

“They’re alive,” he said. “These bonds… they’re really alive.”

You nodded. “They are. You make them real. You all do.”

And then—Luffy grinned.

He stood, arms stretched out wide as if trying to catch the sky.

“I LOVE IT!!!”

The others laughed, their voices light with wonder. Even Zoro cracked a smirk. Sanji tried to light a cigarette with shaking hands and gave up entirely, just staring at the glowing thread between you.

You held the image a few seconds longer—long enough to burn it into their memories—before gently letting it fade, like smoke in the wind.

The deck returned to normal.

But something lingered.

A feeling. A warmth. A knowing.

You leaned back with a breathless smile.

Luffy looked down at you, still grinning. “You’re awesome.”

You met his eyes, soft and shining. “So are you.”

The morning sun spilled golden light across the deck, warming the wood and shimmering off the sea. The crew gathered around the table for breakfast—freshly made by Sanji, as always—still glowing in the afterglow of yesterday’s battle and the reveal.

The memory of golden threads dancing in the air hadn’t left them.

Neither had the awe.

“So,” Sanji said casually, setting down a plate of sunny-side-up eggs in front of you with a flourish, “I believe it’s only right to point out that [Y/N] used my fighting style in that battle.”

“Light on your feet. Beautiful form. Graceful kicks that could kill a sea king.” He spun with a wink. “Clearly, the power of our bond is unmatched.”

Zoro made a sound. A sound. Low, dismissive, impatient.

“Your fancy footwork was one thing,” he said through a mouthful of rice. “But the real strength came when she ended that merc with a full-on counterstrike. That was my technique.”

You raised a brow at your plate. Here we go.

Sanji bristled. “Counterstrike? She deflected a two-ton punch with a spinning heel kick. That’s my move.”

“Please,” Zoro scoffed. “She stood her ground and overpowered him. No spinning. Just raw strength. That was me.”

“She even moved like me,” Sanji snapped. “You couldn’t twirl to save your life.”

“Because I don’t need to twirl to win, curly-brow.”

“Want me to twirl you overboard—?!”

Nami sighed. “It’s too early for testosterone.”

Usopp munched toast, watching them with wide eyes. “This is weirdly flattering. They’re fighting over who has a better connection with [Y/N].”

“They’re fighting over whose bond is stronger,” Robin said lightly, sipping tea. “It’s oddly romantic.”

You sat back, sipping your own tea, amused beyond words.

But Sanji wasn’t done.

He turned from Zoro mid-argue, marched over to you, and—

Knelt. On one knee. Took your hand.

You blinked.

You flushed.

Your brain, traitorous and immediate: MARRIAGE?!

“[Y/N],” Sanji said with utmost sincerity, gazing up at you like you’d hung the stars yourself. “Out of all the bonds you hold… which one is the most powerful?”

The entire table went silent.

Zoro choked on his rice.

You stared, your face slowly going crimson. “I—um. That’s… I mean…”

He lifted your hand to his lips.

Your heart actually stopped.

You gave a slow, thoughtful hum, eyes narrowing mischievously. “Hmm… Sanji, Zoro… it’s honestly so close.”

Sanji’s smile widened like he was about to win.

But then—

You grinned.

Eyes gleaming.

You gripped his hand tighter, leaned in just slightly, and said with a soft, velvety voice:

“Of course… I could always strengthen the bond in… other ways.”

Sanji made a sound like someone had just pulled the pin on a very flustered grenade.

Then—

He died.

He dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut, flat on the deck with swirly eyes and a blissed-out smile.

Usopp dropped his toast. Chopper shrieked. Robin covered her mouth, amused. Luffy burst out laughing so hard he fell backward off the bench.

You threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest. “Oh my god, I didn’t think he’d actually pass out—”

Zoro rolled his eyes but was smirking. “Serves him right.”

As Sanji twitched on the floor, hearts floating from his head like steam, you picked up your tea again and sipped calmly.

“Guess that answers his question.”

The waves rocked the Sunny gently, a lullaby of the sea, as the last rays of the sun kissed the horizon in shades of peach and gold. Most of the crew had turned in early, worn out from the chaos of the past few days.

But you stayed on deck, sitting near the figurehead with your knees tucked up to your chest and a blanket around your shoulders. The breeze was cool, but the warmth in your chest kept you from feeling it.

You could see them again—the threads.

Still glowing.

Still alive.

They shimmered faintly in the dusk light, stretched like constellations across the deck and walls and sails. So many beautiful bonds. So many pieces of yourself that had once been broken, now tied to others.

You felt whole.

But one thread… One thread blazed like sunlight.

It wasn’t just bright. It wasn’t just strong. It radiated.

Wild and untamed. Joyful and fierce. The thread tied to Luffy.

You didn’t even have to look to feel him behind you.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You turned. He was barefoot, messy-haired as always, arms behind his head like he had all the time in the world. He plopped down beside you, crisscross applesauce, and stared out at the sea with a relaxed smile.

“I knew you’d be up here,” he added, glancing at you. “You always look at the sky when you’re thinking.”

You smiled back. “I could say the same to you.”

He grinned wider, and for a long moment, you both just sat in comfortable silence.

The wind tugged at your hair. The sea whispered. And the thread between you glowed like firelight in your chest.

“Hey, Luffy,” you said finally. “Do you… remember when you first found me?”

He blinked, then nodded once, slow. “Yeah. You were in that weird old port town. Working for that rich jerk.”

You nodded, eyes distant. “More like owned. I didn’t even realize I was fading until you walked in, like a storm. You didn’t even hesitate. Just looked at me and said, ‘Wanna come with us?’”

Luffy’s smile softened. “Well, yeah. You looked like someone who needed the sky.”

Your throat tightened.

“You saved me, you know,” you whispered. “Not just from that place, but from… me. I used to think my powers only worked if I earned people’s love. Like I had to be useful. Like I had to deserve it.”

Luffy was quiet, watching your face.

“But you…” Your voice wavered. “You just… took me. Like I was already something precious. Like I didn’t have to earn anything.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Then he reached out—softly, gently—and tugged the edge of your blanket until you scooted closer. Your shoulder touched his.

“You are something precious,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s why you shine so much.”

You felt your chest tighten in the best way. That thread between you burned golden. Stronger than any other. Stronger than steel, stronger than fate.

“I used to think I needed someone to be my light,” you murmured. “But I think… maybe I just needed someone to let me shine.”

You looked at him.

And smiled.

“You’re the sun, Luffy. You just don’t know it.”

He laughed, a little awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah. You’re the one glowing all the time.”

You reached over and took his hand—warm and calloused and steady. The thread between you flared in your mind like a second heartbeat.

“Yeah,” you said. “But only because I’m standing in your light.”

For once, Luffy didn’t answer with words. He just grinned—really grinned—and leaned his forehead against yours, laughing under his breath like you’d told him a secret that made him happy.

And you laughed too. Because you’d never felt more seen. Or more safe.

Wrapped in his sunlight. Tied to something bigger than fate.

#x reader #one piece #luffy #reader insert #sanji #nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper #usopp

213 notes · View notes

reasonsforhope · 2 months ago

Text

"Every year, venomous snake bites kill tens of thousands of people globally, and they permanently disable several-hundred thousands more. Now a team says it has developed an antivenom cocktail that works against a diverse collection of venomous snakes using a process that it hopes could lead to a universal antivenom. Here's NPR's Ari Daniel.

ARI DANIEL, BYLINE: Most people try to avoid venomous snakes. Not Tim Friede.

TIM FRIEDE: My claim to fame is getting bit by snakes.

DANIEL: Friede used to hunt garter snakes growing up in Wisconsin. As an adult, his obsession turned to venomous snakes and the harm they cause people globally. He felt the most dramatic way to raise awareness of the issue was to allow himself to be bitten. Right out of the gate, though...

FRIEDE: I was put in ICU after two cobra bites, and I dropped in a coma for four days.

DANIEL: He recovered and got more careful. Friede estimates he's now been bitten some 200 times. His motivation evolved - to see if he could develop immunity to this swirl of toxins so that his body might provide a road map to making a broader kind of antivenom.

For decades, antivenoms have come from the antibodies generated by animals like horses injected with venoms. But Jacob Glanville, the CEO of the biotech company Centivax, he wanted to find a shared molecular site across multiple venom toxins from different snake species that he could target. And rather than using a horse, Glanville figured that a person who'd been repeatedly exposed to lots of different venoms might have antibodies directed against such a site.

JACOB GLANVILLE: I was calling vivariums hoping for a clumsy snake researcher.

DANIEL: And then he found Tim Friede.

FRIEDE: We need your blood. We need your antibodies.

GLANVILLE: If anybody has broken through the problem of getting the immune system to focus, it's this guy, by this repeated stimulation with all these snakes.

FRIEDE: I'm like, wow. Cool.

DANIEL: So Glanville scanned Friede's blood, poring over the troves of antibodies to find those that bound the neurotoxins of multiple snakes.

GLANVILLE: And we found the ultrabroad antibody that had this very remarkable ability to go bind right on the conserved site that the neurotoxin uses to cause paralysis.

DANIEL: In mice, the antibody worked fully against five snakes - the black mamba and a mix of cobras. Next, Glanville and his colleagues added a small molecule that had already been shown to work against some venoms, and they went back to Friede's blood and found a second broad-acting antibody.

GLANVILLE: And that's when we suddenly saw this coherent protection that was happening across this large panel.

DANIEL: This cocktail of three components offered mice complete protection against 13 species and partial protection against six more, representing venomous snakes from Asia, Africa, Australia, North America and more. There are other antivenoms that can neutralize a diverse set of snakes, but this is the first to do so using synthetic antibodies. The results are published in the journal Cell. David Williams is a scientist who evaluates antivenoms for the World Health Organization who wasn't involved in the research.

DAVID WILLIAMS: It's definitely a step in the right direction because it's answering some of the questions we have about how to properly design universal antibodies.

DANIEL: Williams cautions that further developing this cocktail into a truly universal antivenom will inevitably have its challenges, including doing human trials and expanding its coverage to vipers, which make up about half of venomous snakes. Meanwhile, when Tim Friede heard that his antibodies had helped create this new antivenom cocktail, he says he was happy.

FRIEDE: When I do it, I know I'm doing something for humanity and giving back to science.

DANIEL: Friede is now director of herpetology at Centivax, where the team is planning to test their new cocktail in dogs that have been bit by venomous snakes in Australia."

-via NPR, May 4, 2025

Note: This is an even bigger deal than the article makes it out to be. For the most part, each species of snake needs a different antivenom.

But acquiring and storing antivenoms for every species of snake in an area is logistically difficult - and expensive. This means that hospitals - especially in developing countries - often don't have many of the antivenoms for snakes in the region on hand, meaning that people often die even if they do make it to medical facilities. A broad-spectrum snakebite antidote would save so many lives.

#snake #snakes #tw snakes #venomous snakes #herpetology #biology #medical news #good news #hope

240 notes · View notes

aeternallis · 1 year ago

Text

Colin's "entrapment" line was hard to listen to, but it was most definitely a sign of how unhinged he really is for Penelope.

Ok but for reals, I'm not sure how everyone else reacted when Colin said his now infamous "entrapment" line, but I just love how if one looks at this line a little more closely, it was definitely some semblance of an underhanded (and also a bit silly, lol) attempt to actually keep Penelope entrapped. Haha, the irony of it all. Idk, at least that was my read on it!

Like, it was definitely said in anger as well; he's hurting, and he’s hurting badly, so of course he wants to hit back in some way, however he can. Luke Newton absolutely meant it when he said that Colin reacts to the reveal in the worst way possible, alas.

My very first reaction to that scene: //pauses the screen to yell at Colin at 4am in the morning, “Entrapment????! If you feel trapped, then why the hell are you still going along with it, ya dumb ass!!!

Because really, think about it: Colin was definitely within his rights to call off the wedding, especially when he'd mentioned that Violet had noticed that he and Penelope had not seen each other for some time. It would have been the perfect time to reveal Penelope's secret to his mother, if indeed he felt entrapped by the LW of it all. Violet is family; if he wanted to still protect Penelope but no longer wanted to marry her, he would have been able to count on Violet's discretion. I'm sure she and Lady Danbury would have come up with some sort of plan to deal with the aftermath regarding the Bridgertons’ reputation, as we'd seen with Anthony and Edwina's botched wedding.

Furthermore, it would have probably been the better option to reveal it to her, since the existence of LW does put his family in danger; Penelope herself knows this. Every decision she makes post-LW reveal to Colin is due to the Bridgertons being in danger. Lady Danbury makes a point of this when she said in the last episode, “There is only one other person who loves the Bridgertons more than I.”

Eloise was able to keep the secret with no real consequences because although Penelope was her ex-bff, El still loves her, and besides that, nothing legal binds them as Colin's marriage to Penelope would.

Even when he was getting ready to talk to Benedict about getting funds to fulfill Cressida’s demands, he insisted on making up a lie to shield Penelope’s identity as LW. He knows more than anything that fulfilling a demand like this, all for the sake of his wife and at the cost of using a substantial amount of Bridgertons’ financial assets, may not put his marriage in the best light within his family. He doesn’t want to be forced to have to choose between his wife and his family, so he’s keen on keeping the lie going.

So for all intents and purposes, he doesn't tell his mother, or any of his other siblings (besides Eloise, who already knew); this in and of itself is hella fucking risky. The fact that Colin is willing to take this risk of withholding Penelope's secret identity from his family, the fact that he doesn't think to jeopardize this potentially risky betrothal—already goes to show the measure in regards to how much he wants Pen for his wife. We the audience know this because he waits until the very last minute to tell Violet, and even then, it's not Colin who chose to reveal it to her, but Penelope herself.

Another point: arguably, we can also say that Colin has a lot more wiggle room with his engagement to Penelope to call off the wedding, much more than he ever did with his engagement to Marina.

"A man of honor"? Exactly what "honor" are we talking about here? Colin claimed that he would have married Marina had she just told him the truth, yet when push came to shove and the truth of her pregnancy was revealed for all the world to know, he still chose to take the out Penelope gave him through LW. It’s easier to make a declaration like that when it’s all said and done. Lol Sure, he regretted it and apologized for his behavior later on, but he had made his choice regardless. Y’all can just feel Marina and Lady Danbury judging this dumb ass (affectionate) for dwelling in the past. Silly young man! XD What's stopping him this time around?

"We had been...intimate." Are you talking about the mirror scene, sir? Because let me assure you, you and Penelope have long been "intimate" way before you decided to buy a love nest and take her V-card the very next day you proposed to her. In fact, this is where the significance of their first kiss in 3.02 rings so, SO importantly and WHY it was vital that it was Penelope who asked and said that it would not have to mean anything. Colin knows Penelope would never use their first time together and/or the heated moment in the carriage as a way to entrap him. That first kiss alone should have already warranted that they get married, but Penelope makes it clear that it’s simply a favor, nothing more.

Oddly enough, I’m surprised Colin doesn’t bring up the idea of a long engagement (yknow, as he initially wanted with Marina, but who’s keeping track at this point), considering that would have potentially benefitted their situation. 🤔 His dumb ass (affectionate) was more than willing to stick to the wedding schedule…huh.

Besides all that, I don’t think it’s the showrunners’ intent to “taint” those special moments between them by changing the context through Colin’s (very biased) POV; to believe that to be the case would be, imo, just a bad faith argument. The genre is romance, y’all; these intimacy scenes are on an entirely different pedestal.

Because remember, that “entrapment” line of Colin’s only came about due to Penelope starting the conversation with, “Are you going to call off the wedding?”

Didn’t it almost seem like an afterthought, that he just came up with it on the spot? Hahaha.

I can bet y’all Cressida’s fake ass €20,000 blackmail money that before they’d met up to discuss wedding breakfast plans with their mamas, it had probably never even occurred to Colin to cancel their wedding. Angry and furious as he was, it was never a question of whether or not he still wanted Penelope for a wife.

The fact that it’s Penelope who begins that conversation and opens that Pandora’s box possibility is so, so damn important. Because not only does it show how much Penelope truly loves him in that she would never trap him, it also shows her maturity, in that she’s willing to face the consequences of her actions. She’s willing to give Colin the choice to back out, heartbreaking as it would be to face it, even if she herself would not be the one to pursue that choice.

She gives him the choice a good number of times: the wedding breakfast plan scene, the wedding day itself when she hesitates on the aisle, and the annulment offer after the butterfly scene.

Penelope defends herself softly, but truthfully: she never meant to entrap him, because she really didn’t. And Colin knows this; he would not still love her and want her if he honestly believed she wanted to entrap him. Hell, even if she did, the audience knows it’s a desire that comes from a good place: she loves him, so of course she doesn’t want to lose him. She wants to marry him, because she loves him. That’s all there is to it.

But despite knowing this (imo, anyway), we can also say that this conversation may have contributed to Colin’s downward spiral during the majority of episode 7 and 8, and why he becomes hella fucking desperate to be “useful” to her.

Because unlike himself, Penelope has now begun to entertain the idea of living a life that doesn’t include him—at least, not as her husband. Penelope is brave and strong enough to let him go due to the pain she caused him for her lies and her actions as LW, and as for Colin��well…

(I love it, it’s the same conundrum that Anthony faced in S2: Kate is strong enough to leave him behind and return to India, but Anthony…well…)

TL;DR, Colin’s entrapment line was literally an excuse he gave himself to keep his betrothal to Penelope intact. It’s a line that works in two ways simultaneously: it’s a painful, childish, underhanded thing to say in order to hurt Penelope’s feelings, to get back at her for the anguish he’s suffered. Yet at the same time, it’s also another excuse he gives himself in order to push through with the marriage, to tie Penelope to himself forever.

Because unlike Penelope, the very idea of living without her as his wife, of not having her in his life, is and always will be an impossible notion for Colin to ever entertain.

#polin #bridgerton #meta post #meta #I love these two a lot

514 notes · View notes

chubsonthemoon · 3 months ago

Text

HELLO JAYVIK (fanbinding) NATION. I had four binderary projects planned this year. I finished one of them. This is not one of them. WHAT HAPPENED WAS I had binderary plans and then I watched the bear trap of a show that is Arcane. What happened was I tripped and fell straight into jayvik hell. Here I am now, a month later. Anyway!

This is the fantastic Talis, V. Talis, J. "Social Behaviors of Lokfar Peninsula’s Wild Mammals (Specifically Those of my Co-Author)" by @zillac! I had SO much fun reading and binding this--zillac's writing is some of my favorite ever, that perfect mix of hilarious and heartfelt, with spot-on voicing for everyone. This is a Tarzan AU and SUCH a delight--Jayce never gets rescued as a kid and instead gets raised by wolves (SEXY WOLFMAN JAYCE YEEHAW), and Viktor meets him years later on a research trip. The title is a fun spin on an academic paper, so in keeping with that theme, I went for a more simple/classical design and a stiffened board binding construction, which was new to me and SO much fun. I will definitely be using this construction again!

Some design fun facts! Blue and silver details are to match the icy climate of Lokfar (there's a line where Viktor is like "why are your [very strong, distracting, huge] arms bare when it's fucking freezing out?" and Jayce is like "Hm? Oh it's summer," which, CHILLS, no pun intended). Cover papers were hand-marbled by me at Renegade Retreat 2023 (I'm so happy I found the perfect fic to use them!). The endpapers are a bit translucent, which reminded me so much of the frozen glacier in the fic I just had to use them:

I also went for a different font for the interior--I've been using Garamond basically ever since I started fanbinding (which AH, it's my five-year anniversary this year! I should write a roundup post...), but I decided to try Alegreya this time around, and I really love how it changes the feel of the typeset.

Bonus ASMR flip-through! (I bought a ring light/phone camera stand, so now I can use both hands in my book photos lolol)

And that's all for today!! Thanks so much for sharing your work, Zil!! <333

#arcane #jayvik #jayce talis #viktor arcane #Talis #V. Talis #Social Behaviors of Lokfar Peninsula’s Wild Mammals (Specifically Those of my Co-Author)#zillac #fanbinding

164 notes · View notes

pseudowho · 2 years ago

Text

Stealing Nanami Kento's Shirts...

...one too many times.

18+, don't pretend you're here for anything else.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Coming home after a bad day, and he is not in the mood to do laundry, but thankfully he has one shirt left in the wardrobe before work tomorrow. You're on the sofa in his shirt and precious little else, and Nanami feels a ping of irritation blossom alongside his arousal.

"Did you get that shirt from the laundry basket?"

"No, it was hung up. Is that okay?"

Nanami's jaw clenches, irritated. Heavy footsteps approach you, and you look up at him, eyes tracing the outline of his hardening cock in his suit, before reaching his face. You bite your lip as he glowers down at you.

"Up."

You are nothing if not dutiful, and you stand in front of him, legs clamped together to ease the growing throbbing between them. Nanami pinches the ends of the shirtsleeves over your hands, pulling gently, and your arms slip inside the body of the shirt; you give him a questioning look as he lowers the neckline to your breasts, hardened nipples peeking out of the top as Nanami's mouth waters at the sight of you.

"This was my last shirt. I have work tomorrow."

"Oh no, I'm sorry! I didn't rea--"

"So let's see if we can get some use out of it, shall we?"

Nanami raises your forearms to your chest, breasts squeezed enticingly between them, before using the loose shirtsleeves to bind your arms tightly in place, crossed over your chest and knotted so snugly behind your back that you feel breathless.

"Ken--!" You are cut off as Nanami presses his rolled up tie into your mouth, silencing you, before bodily flinging you over the table, arse up and wiggling as he presses you down by the knot between your shoulder blades. You squeak as you hear the clink of his belt undoing, wetness starting to seep between your thighs.

"I'm sorry I stole your last shirt, Kento," he hums, pitch slightly raised, and you feel yourself blush at his brisk sarcasm, mewling now as he roughly thrusts two fingers into your pussy, sighing as he feels it clench around them, "Is that what you were going to say?"

You're wordless, panting around his tie, bound by his shirtsleeves, and trying to press your pussy back into his hand, as he continues to thrust his fingers into you, nudging your cervix with each penetration. Removing his fingers, and gently shushing your whimpers, he wipes them on the back of the shirt.

"So wet," he gasps, pretending to be appalled, "but why are you enjoying this so much when it's supposed to be a punishment, darling?"

Pussy feeling cold and empty, only momentarily, you feel him sink his cock deeply into you in one swift movement, crying out around his tie as he groans, cracking his neck sideways a few times, to keep himself from cumming immediately as he feels your plush walls flutter around him. He squeezes the base of his cock, controlling himself with a low moan.

"No? Then let's get it nice and messy, my love, so you can wear it all over again tomorrow."

As he begins to rut into you at a relentless pace, leaving you reeling and helpless against the table, Kento braces himself over you, caging you in with thick arms as he dabs the sweat from his forehead off on the back of the shirt. He intones into your ear, low and sultry;

"I wonder if these sleeves could tie you to the bedframe, too?"

When Nanami goes to work the next day, he's had to go in a shirt fished back out of the laundry basket.

On the bright side, as he adjusts his watch, he smirks to think of you at home, still wearing his other shirt, with crumpled sleeves and at least three loads of his dried cum on it.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Definitely not me brain rotting about being tied up in Kento's shirtsleeves, nope, not one bit.

1K notes · View notes

panharmonium · 3 months ago

Text

Bookbinding: The New Deal by Closer

Moar bookbinding! This one is a Suits fanfic that I bound for @brambleberrycottage's birthday (pictures shared with the author's permission).

[Same disclaimer as always applies: I do this for fun; no money has been made from this project!]

Notes on the binding: This was my third leather book, but my first time sewing on cords (my previous leather books were both split boards). The actual sewing process was definitely...something. Sewing is usually my favorite step of a bind, but not this time. (Possibly because I was sitting on the floor at the base of the stairs sewing the book on a shelf under my desk, as that was the easiest sewing frame hack I could come up with - once I rig something that will allow me to sit up like a human being and not be scrunched up like a hermit crab, I am sure I will enjoy the process more.)

So the sewing itself was a bit painful, but I did really love how the board attachment played out in the end, with the cords laced into the boards. It is SO satisfying not to be doing case bindings anymore! It's the same feeling of relief I had when I first learned how to do split board bindings - you have so much more control over the placement of the cover boards, so much less opportunity for skew, so much more stability. No more casing-in anxiety necessary. (You do acquire all-new steps to be anxious about, but for me, it's worth it).

Notes on the design: I've never actually watched Suits, but the fic itself takes place in and around Harvard Law, so I used that as my inspiration for the book's design. The book is covered in crimson leather from Siegel. Endbands are handsewn with metallic red and gold threads. The blind tooling on the cover is a street map of Cambridge, MA, which I drew onto tracing film and then tooled through the film onto the leather. (So far I've only used a foil quill heat pen to do this, because brass tools are expensive. I'm taking a class on traditional tooling soon and I'm VERY excited for it, but for now, this is what I have access to.)

The gold outlines in the design highlight the buildings of Harvard Law. (These lines are also not actual gold tooling - paint pen for now.)

^ early design work, featuring unsightly eraser smudges.

I followed a similar theme/color scheme for the interior. For the endpapers, I used acrylic paints and a dry sponge to make a crimson and gold pattern:

For the title page, I modified an image of Harvard's Veritas shield to display the fic's title and author.

The chapter headers may not immediately ping an association for anyone who doesn't live here/spend a lot of time on the T, but they were the first thing I came up with - they're designed to look like the signage for the Red Line, which is the subway route that serves Harvard Square.

Notes for future me: The one thing that went "wrong" with this bind was that the endpapers ended up being short at the foreedge. I knew this was going to happen before I pasted them down, but I had to make a choice between two undesirable results - the boards were already VERY slightly curved inwards after doing the fill-in, and if I used paste on the endpapers (so they would stretch), I was worried it would pull too hard as it dried and make the boards curve too much. But if I used PVA, the endpapers wouldn't stretch enough and would end up being short. I decided I would rather have short endpapers than warped boards, so that's what I went with, but next time I might try doing one less lining inside the boards and hope that the pastedown will handle more of the counterpull.

Despite little things like that, I had a great time with this! Every time I make something I learn new things, and every time something goes "wrong" it's good to look back and be like "ten years ago I was duct taping the spines of loose pages that I covered in cardstock! i'm doing fine, actually." Lots of progress has happened and lots of fun has been had, which is ultimately the point.

Big thank yous are owed to @brambleberrycottage for letting me send her all my bookbinding experiments, and also to Closer for a) writing this fic in the first place and b) okay'ing the sharing of photos! Much appreciation goes out to both of you :)

#i love how much i've been able to learn with the resources that are out there now #it has helped me so much!#wild to look back and remember that these things did not exist when i started doing this #there was no discord #there was no das (imagine...what a world)#every time i look at my older stuff and want to be like 'this looks it was made by a toddler' i have to check myself like #'ok but back then there was no incredibly endearing australian guy making in-depth tutorials for free' XD #bookbinding

99 notes · View notes

kolutshanpress · 2 months ago

Text

as per a request in my local renegade server: here is my process (such as it is) for the stenciled covers i've done for my binds. obviously, huge thanks to everyone in the renegade discord for teaching me most of what i know about bookbinding. this tutorial only exists thanks to the resources they've made available and the conversations i've had there.

material list

vinyl cutter (i have a silhouette portrait 3) + mat + blade

stencil vinyl (i have this one, but have had some adherence troubles with it. unclear whether this is just The Nature Of Stencil Vinyl or whether there's a better brand out there. adhesive vinyl can also be a viable option, although i haven't personally experimented with it yet.)

transfer tape (i have this stuff. it's fine.)

weeding tools (i have this hook and a very fine tip pair of tweezers. i highly recommend getting a hook, especially if you—like me—are haunted by the specter of carpal tunnel. get an off-brand one or get one on sale, though. i only have the silhouette brand one because it was on clearance.)

acrylic medium (i have this one because it was on sale at the time i was buying acrylic medium. when i replace it, i will be replacing it with a matte one. the gloss definitely has a noticeable sheen that i don't love.)

acrylic paint (literally any paint will do. i've been mostly using the decoart extreme sheen because it's $4 at michaels. you may be noticing a theme here.)

stiff stenciling brushes (the ones i have are similar to these but cost even less. again, there's a theme here.)

an iron and some parchment paper (jury is still out on whether using heat to "set" the pattern is necessary, but i do feel like it melts the paint a bit into the bookcloth and lessens the extent to which the pattern sits above the bookcloth.)

your trusty bone folder

instructions and a truly hideous number of words under the cut.

step 0.5: discern what will make a good stencil and what will make you hate yourself, your life, and the art of bookbinding

there are a LOT of different ways to put titling on a book. you could do a paper cover with a printed design or paste paper labels onto bookcloth or foil your title onto your cover with heat activated foil. the best method depends on what kind of design you have in mind, what tools you have available to you, and what materials you're working with (for example, i've had very bad luck getting acrylic paint to adhere to Allure bookcloth, but Allure does foil like a dream).

as far as stencils are concerned, you can kind of sort cover designs into three categories:

BEST for stencils: big, bold shapes on larger format books (think letter folio or letter/legal quarto)

OKAY for stencils, but you might hate yourself: intricate detail at a large enough form factor for it to be cut well by your vinyl cutter

BAD for stencils, you will die and it will hurt the entire time you are dying: lots of intricate detail and lots of fine lines

below are examples of category 1, 2, and 3 (all designed for letter folio). to be clear, category 3 can technically be possible, depending on the design. but only undertake it with the awareness that you will die, and it will hurt the entire time you are dying.

step 1: design a thing to put on your cover

i'm not going to go too in depth on this because cover design is a HUGE can of worms. a few pointers, though:

i never start designing my cover until my text block is done. this allows me to design my cover at "full size" based on the measured size of my text block and cover boards.

i fully lay out my cover in a separate program before exporting a transparent PNG to silhouette studio (or whichever proprietary software you have to use to communicate with your particular vinyl cutter). i use affinity designer. some free options would be inkscape (if you want to work with vectors) or gimp.

i design my cover on a document with dimensions of (HEIGHT of boards + 20 mm) x (WIDTH of boards or spine + 20 mm) and 10 mm margins. the area within the margins represents the actual dimensions of the thing i'm designing, while the area outside of the margins creates a mask that prevents me from getting paint on things i don't want paint on (like the covers, if i'm creating a spine stencil).

i always outline my document with a 3 or 4pt black line. this creates the outer edge of my stencil and provides my vinyl cutter with a cut line. if you're working with a smaller vinyl cutter (like the cricut joy) there are ways to jigsaw designs together from smaller pieces of vinyl, but i'm not the person to ask about that. i specifically bought a portrait so that i didn't have to worry about that.

here's an example of one of my affinity files from a recent cover. i've exaggerated my outline to make it clearer. you can also see that i use affinity to experiment with color combinations. before i export, i turn all my elements black and make any backgrounds transparent, meaning that the PNG i import into silhouette studio looks like the one on the right.

step 2: cut and weed your stencil

again, not going to go terribly in depth here. there is a veritable army of youtubers out there with tutorials about how to use [insert propriety vinyl cutter software here]. but, again, a few pointers:

with my particular vinyl cutter and stencil vinyl, i usually cut my stencils with the material set to "washi," depth at 1, force at 13, and speed at 4. google, experiment, see what works. also, you want to put your stencil vinyl on the mat with the blue vinyl facing UP, and you don't want to mirror your design. with stencils, what you see is what you get.

i cut my vinyl a bit bigger than necessary because i'd rather waste a bit of vinyl than have to worry about a stencil falling off the edge of my vinyl because i misaligned it on the mat.

unlike HTV, you will be weeding out all the black parts of your original image. be prepared to hate the letters "e" and "a" forever, because you will have to somehow keep the little eye of them in place while you pry out the rest of it.

step 3: apply your stencil to your case

alright, now let's get into the meat of it. i always stencil after my case is finished but before i case in my book. this means that if i totally fuck it up, i can trash the case instead of the entire book.

additionally, i completely stencil my spine first (as in lay down stencil, paint, remove stencil) and then stencil my covers. i've found that it's easier when you don't have stencils overlapping and sticking to each other.

OPTIONAL STEP: mark guides onto your cover to help you position your stencil. whether or not i do this step depends on the design. a lot of the time, i just eyeball it. but for some designs, precision is key. for those projects, i use my ruler to mark out guides in white chalk for where i need certain elements of the stencil to fall. (i used guide marks for the "penguin clothbound" copies of the The Weight Collected that i've been using as an example in this post—the black rectangular boarder would've made uneven placement REALLY obvious.)

use transfer tape to remove your vinyl from its slick backing. what i've found is that you really, really don't want your transfer tape to be too sticky. you want it just barely sticky enough to pick up the stencil if you rub it down with a bone folder or your fingernail. i have a piece of transfer tape that i stuck to my jeans a bunch of times and then proceeded to use for 8 books in a row. it is, frankly, still a little bit too sticky. i have rolled it up so that i can use it for the next 8 books, at which point it will presumably be the right level of stickiness.

position your stencil. when you're happy with it, rub it firmly down with your bone folder. then do it again. then use your fingernail to score down over the titling text. then pray. in my experience, stencils prefer to stick to transfer tape rather than bookcloth. ymmv.

start at one corner of your stencil. carefully begin peeling back the transfer tape. i've found that essentially folding back the transfer tape (like, the corner that's been freed from the stencil being folded back away from the stencil) helps the tape to release. go slowly, rubbing down with the bone fold as necessary.

after you've finally manage to pry the tape off, go back and smooth down the stencil and firmly rub it down to get it to adhere to the bookcloth as thoroughly as possible with as few ripples or air bubbles as possible.

step 4: paint time!

here is a secret that the renegade discord taught me that i am now passing on to all of you: before you put any paint on your stencil, put down a layer of clear acrylic medium. the medium will finish the job of pasting down the stencil to your cover, and any leaks that happen in the process will be clear medium instead of colored paint (and will therefore be basically unnoticeable). ergo:

stipple a thin coat of acrylic medium over your stencil. you want to use an up-and-down daubing motion, not a brushing motion. brushing will get paint under your stencil. let dry.

after your medium is dry, stipple a few thin coats of your colored acrylic paint onto your stencil. let dry between coats. (i usually find that two coats is enough.) again, try to keep your coats thin. you don't want a thick layer of paint because that will create a raised surface above your bookcloth.

let your paint fully dry. i usually leave it overnight, but if i'm feeling especially impatient, i still make sure to at least give it a good three or four hours.

peel up your stencil. your weeding tools will once again come into play here to pry up little bits and pieces of stencil (like the stupid eyes of the "a"s and "e"s that were so annoying during the initial weeding stage).

step 5: optional setting stage

again, jury is still out on whether or not this is necessary, and the effects are pretty subtle. but i do it every time anyway. some tips:

use an iron on very low heat (i keep mine at the low end of the synthetic setting) and with steam turned OFF

keep a piece of parchment paper (NOT waxed paper. you want the slick paper that you put under cookies to keep them from sticking to the pan.) between the iron and your cover.

press the iron down, don't rub it like you're ironing a shirt. it's possible to smear your paint doing that (ask me how i know).

i usually lay the iron down on a section for 10-15 seconds at a time, then lift it and move it to another section.

start with less of everything (less heat, less time) and build up. always better to be conservative with this.

i usually continue until the paint is warm to the touch, then move onto another section. after it's cooled, i evaluate if i feel like it's melted into the cloth enough. if not, i repeat the process.

step 6: BOOK

congrats, you have put a design on a book cover. the world is your oyster. go forth and make books. become ungovernable.

#tutorials #bookbinding #fanbinding

114 notes · View notes

bbina · 1 month ago

Text

you let out a big sigh of relief after grabbing the remaining printed reports off the printer. you take a good look at it before binding it all together with the rest of the report to complete today's task

"finally" you mumbled to yourself, placing the final report on top of the stack beside you, ready to be sent to chenle's office since he was probably at home already while you were stuck here during after work hours again working on extra things he had asked you to do after the pitch deck from earlier

with a huff, you make your way towards chenle's office. just one last hurdle before you can go home after a long day per usual

. . . ᝰ.ᐟ

with your free hand, you knock twice against his door before opening it, not really expecting him to be there

but to your surprise, chenle is still in fact at his office

"oh sorry sir. i didn't know you were still here" you apologize, closing the door with your foot

chenle watches you as you place the stack of papers you had diligently printed onto his desk with a loud thud. you slam your hand against the top pile, heaving a tired but contented sigh

"did everything you asked that was all due today. i'll be formally clocking out now" you breathe out, rolling your shoulders

chenle simply nods and grabs some reports, skimming through them. he hums as he reads through some important parts that he won't really read into much but the fact that you still did all of it despite it not being in your work of scope is still impressive as much as he hates to admit

seeing that he was satisfied with your work, you take it as a sign to leave. you were about to head out of his office til he speaks up, causing you to stop in your tracks

"did you eat yet?" he asks

you turn your head back to raise an eyebrow at him. you check your wrist watch to see that the clock was at 7pm

"what do you think? i was busy doing everything in this company all at once" you answer sarcastically and as if on cue, your stomach grumbles

chenle lets out a breathy chuckle that sounded more like a scoff if you were being honest but you didn't really care anymore. the longer you've been his assistant, you realized that he didn't really mind you talking back at him

"hmm. lucky for you i haven't eaten either"

you stare at him, waiting for the next bit or where he was taking this

"... okay?"

"let's go. i'm starving" chenle stands up from his desk and grabs his car keys, jingling it in front of you

"what do you mean "let's go" like we?" you clarify, totally not getting whiplash at the sudden invitation to eat out

chenle rolls his eyes as he walks past you, "who else?"

you make a face as you trudge behind him. not really understanding what was going on. your boss— chenle is inviting you to have dinner with him?

"you're clearly hungry and i'm hungry too and the fact you just made an entire report about competitors which by the way isn't in your scope but yet you did it anyway so" he shrugs

you blink. clearly caught off guard

"... is this your way of thanking me for my hard work?"

"absolutely not" chenle says flatly, pressing the elevator button. "this is just me making sure you don't die during company time" he checks his watch, taking note of your overtime silently "well, it's clearly past company time but you get the gist"

too tired to argue much further, you just accept your fate. walking a bit faster when the elevators ding and chenle was already inside, waiting for you

"fine boss" you mutter, hopping in the elevator with him, "let me just grab my bag" you murmur, clicking on your floor to which chenle simply nods

BUSINESS PROPOSAL ᝰ.ᐟ . . . OVERCOMPENSATING

✎ . . . things aren't going as planned the way you thought it was going to be. especially the part where you find yourself falling in love with your own boss– which was definitely not part of the agreed proposal.

[ PREV / NEXT ]

✎ AUTHORS NOTE . . . the return of the king (bbina the writer) i missed this omg

✎ TAGLIST . . . @mrkleelvr @jenodigital @https-dandelion @rik0shii @spacejip @yyangj3lly @multifandomania @taroddori @222brainrot @amouriu @defzcl @va1entinaa @carelessshootanonymous @onlywonb @flaminghotyourmom @do-you-remember-summer-127 @grimlinshere @yayayaiheardyouthefirsttime @hoeingthefuckup @meltinghershey @alwayswook @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @dudekiss3r @sibwol @planetmarlowe @doraemiz @morklee02 @httpsxnox @firydst @yuyita-rosier @ayukas @cottonjaems @monomya @neocults26 @greenyweirdo

91 notes · View notes

samantha-and-nellie · 17 days ago

Text

it's real! it's here!!!

you can check out the pdf via this link. a massive, massive thanks to @raspberryspacecloud for letting me know that this booklet seemed to have been sold at one point with the samantha mini doll, and for pointing me towards a listing where i could purchase it! it was absolutely one of the coolest tumblr experiences i've had to make a post about wanting this book and having someone help me find it:)

in case you missed it, i've also scanned kit's version; the post about that is here. felicity's seems to be on internet archive, which means that lights! camera! molly! is the only one that is not available online afaik.

some other thoughts about this book below the cut!

as you can see, this book was definitely made with idea of it being sold with the mini doll--it fits perfectly on the back of the box. i also saved the stickers from the box and put them on the copyright page, so peep those in the pdf!

its production is also quite a bit cheaper than kit's (and it was made well before her's, so that makes sense). as seen in the above pictures, it is literally held together with a staple, which is honestly quite funny to me (although just getting the book flat to scan meant that the pages are now, unfortunately, a little loose). i'm definitely a bit confused still about its product history since, as is visible in the picture on the right, the booklet itself does have its own price, which makes me think you could somehow buy separately from the mini doll... which then makes the the choice for binding it with just a staple even more baffling??? truly no idea what ag was up to here.

#samantha parkington #american girl #ag #agblr #american girl doll #from my slate #nellie o'malley #books #samantha: an american girl holiday #grandmary #bridget o'malley #kit kittredge #felicity merriman #molly mcintire #molly: an american girl on the home front #felicity: an american girl adventure #kit kittredge: an american girl

56 notes · View notes

simphornies · 1 year ago

Note

Can I please request Vox x Female Angel Reader (PS: Vox doesn't know what was happening to him ever since he met Reader just like in quote he ask himself "Why is my heart racing whenever I'm with her? Why am I short circuiting? And etc)

A/N: Wondrous idea! This one's been brewing for a bit though it is shorter than my other ones. There are two requests for this so for the other person that requested it, worry not! It is on the way!

Word count: 2k (2,041)

Fallen for you [Vox x Angel!F!Reader]

You made the choice to sneak into hell during the extermination. Amongst the chaos you carefully ran around rubble to rubble. Your angelic powers allowed you to heal angels, mortals and sinners alike to which you used to salvage those who could be salvaged.

You kept yourself hidden from the exorcists so they could't drag you back up to heaven on their way back from the massacre. But you didn't could't keep yourself hidden from the VoxTek cameras that roamed and covered the area.

You ran into the nearest building that had three V's plastered on the top, making sure your wings were tucked away. You look around, everyone in the building seemed to be in a trance, their eyes filled with spirals. It creeped you out a bit. You kept your head down as you roamed.

"Well, who do we have here?" A voice came from behind you, the suddenness causing you to jump. You freeze in your tracks, it certainly wasn't an exorcist's voice so you slowly turn around. Your head stayed lowered, "Pardon the intrusion, I'll leave now." You respond.

You tried to walk around the tall figure in front of you but he quickly blocked your way, neon blue shoes stepping closer. You look up slowly, a little scared. You were met with a grinning demon, with a television for a head? You couldn't help but cock your head in confusion.

He chuckles in response, "You must be new here." His hand reached out to you, you shook it, "Vox! Nice to meet you, stranger. And who might you be?"

"It's Y/N." You awkwardly, and nervously, smile at him, "It's a pleasure to meet you but I'll be taking my leave now! Hah..." You pull your hand away but he grabs it back, not allowing you to take a step.

"You're definitely not from around here, sweets." His eye spirals at you. You feel yourself fall into a bit of a trance, "Let's continue our conversation in my office." You weren't able to stop him from dragging you to his office.

When you came to, you found yourself sat on a chair. In front of you is Vox, watching you intently. "I haven't caused anything out of the ordinary. I'd hate to waste your time, this is not necessary-" You try to explain.

A screen comes down next to him before he speaks. "You're not from here." He speaks in a low, distorted voice. The screen shows clips of you flying down amongst the exorcists, wings in plain view, followed by you sneaking around. "You're an angel and you're in my building." His voice sounded threatening. "What business do you have here and why are you helping hell."

"I..." You sigh, "Look. I snuck out of heaven. I don't want to be there anymore and with the exorcists leaving, they most likely have noticed I left for hell. I'm bound to be a fallen any day now and I honestly could care any less. Look, I'll...I'll work for you!" You pleaded, "Please just don't let anybody else know."

It's been a while since you struck a non-binding deal with Vox. You two got close after a couple months of him being on guard around you. Well, he's still on guard around you no matter how much you've tried to get his walls down. He kept his end of the stick, reasons unknown to you and told nobody about your secret. You chose to share it with the other Vees though and they were more than glad to have such power on their side.

Vox watched as you conversed with the two, his mind racing as quick as his heart. He didn't understand why in the fuck, his words, he couldn't compose himself properly around you. Your smile alone could make hims heart pound out of his chest. For a while he was convinced it was some angelic power but it was quickly debunked by you. You always smiled and your smile warmed his cold heart, constantly making him short circuit.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize you were in front of him, repeating his name over and over. He genuinely thought it was all in his head since his mind was constantly filled with the thought of you. You repeated his name over and over until he snapped out of it.

"Vox? Vooooox?" You repeated until he finally set his gaze on you, "Vox, are you okay? What's going on? You were kinda wonky there for a second. There's sparks coming out of you."

"Y/N! I'm fine. Appreciate the concern," He lied, "I'm just...thinking." He turned away from you so you couldn't see his screen glitching. He pretended like he was just looking out the window.

"Anyways," You looked out the window, admiring whatever he's looking at, the sharks you assume. "Vel and Val said we're going out tonight. And they told me to tell you to dress up, or something."

"Thank you. I'll get ready soon."

"Hey." You place a hand on his shoulder. He finally looks at you, staring into your eyes that hypnotized him better than he could hypnotize anybody. "If you need anything, I'll help you. You know that, right?" Your words received a small smile from him.

"Thank you, angel." Angel became a nickname of sorts from him to you. You smile sweetly at him and head out to get ready.

Vox was an absolute mess. He was the last to get ready for once and not Valentino. He wanted to look his best and though this usually wasn't a problem for him, it was now. For some reason he couldn't understand he needed to look his best around you.

Velvette bursts into his room while he's frantically trying to pick a bowtie. "What the fuck is taking so long with you? I expect this shit from Valentino but not from you."

He groans, "I can't pick a damn outfit!" He glitched.

"Why in the dead fuck do you care?" She scoffed, putting his outfit together for him with a swipe of her hand.

"I..." He took a deep breath, "I don't know. I feel like Y/N has some weird angelic power on me. I just can't stop thinking about her ever since I met her. She always short-circuits me, making my fans go on overdrive and-"

"Woah woah woah. Slow the fuck down." Velvette laughed, "You are such a fucking dumbass! You're so stupid." She was now on the floor, cackling at him.

"What?!"

"You like her. You're so dense. Oh my fuck." She gets up, wiping tears off her eyes, "I'm so gonna tell her."

"NO." He yelled, voice distorted and eye spiraling. "I'll do it. Later."

"Bet you won't, pussy."

You arrived a little bit after the Vees. You had something, or rather someone, to take care of. Ever since you were officially fallen from heaven, you've gotten quite accustomed to death and the whole "fighting for your life" thing.

Vox was impatiently awaiting your arrival, constantly fidgeting in his seat which earned him a kick or two from both Valentino and Velvette. Velvette caught Valentino up on Vox's situation and he wasn't hearing the end of it for the whole car ride.

He heard heels clicking and he turned a bit too quickly at your arrival. "Y/N! You've fi-finally arrived!" He glitched a bit again at the sight of you. He was never a fan of angels and frankly never understood the whole rave about their beauty but the moment he saw you his mind changed completely.

There you stood in front of him in a blouse and a skirt that hugged your curves right. Eyes were a staple detail in all of your outfits and it showed. You had rings on, few of which had red eyes. Your necklace, a gift from Vox, was his signature spiral eye. It doubled as an alarm for you in case you were in danger, not like you needed it considering you still had angelic powers, much stronger than any overlord but less than Lucifer and his daughter.

He had his arms out for a hug for you, a rare gesture from him. You gave him a tight hug and you swear you felt his circuits warm up again. He was smiling brightly at you, honored to have you in his presence and his life.

"Sorry. Had to deal with a couple sinners. You know someone tried fucking one of Val's employees on the street? For free?" Val almost flipped the table, "It's okay! It's okay. He's locked up in your room."

Val chuckles evilly, "Thank you."

Vox pulls your chair out for you before sitting himself down. The four of you talk business and you took notice of how much Vox kept staring at you. You got a little flustered, constantly fiddling with your hair.

You and Vox kept notice of each other but both of you remained unaware of the looks you received from Valentino and Velvette. They just needed some popcorn and they'd be set. Velvette made up an excuse to walk out to give you both space, dragging Valentino behind her. She placed a hand on Vox's shoulder and whispered, "$500 if you don't do this shit, tonight." She plastered a smile before leaving, "Kisses, darlings! So sorry we couldn't stay."

It was now just the two of you. Vox's heart was pounding loudly and his face was slowly getting brighter. You were pitching him an idea for the next release in VoxTek but you stopped when you saw his screen quite literally not there anymore.

"Vox? You've been glitching a lot lately and I'm getting worried..." You scoot your chair closer to him, "Do you need any parts? I can put them in for you or reboot your system." You put you hand on the side of his screen which jolted him back.

"No! I'm fine. I just," He clears his throat, still glitching out with sparks flying everywhere. "I have a lot on my mind."

"You can talk to me, I'm here to listen." You hold his hand for comfort but this just further heated him up. You feel him clutch your hands for once.

He takes a deep breath in before looking at you, "I have a confession to make. To you." You looked at him worried that he's having business problems, or something. "I like you." Vox felt like a weight has been lifted off of him but now he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear that you'd reject him.

"Oh, Vox..." You spoke softly, holding his hand closer to you, "I like you too. Is that why you've been glitching lately?" You had an empathetic look on your face.

"You do?" He was in shock. His demeanor was new to you, he was vulnerable.

"Vox. You took me in and kept my secret with basically nothing in return and I am eternally grateful." You smile sweetly at him, "Vox. You didn't need to keep such a thing from me for so long to the point where you glitch and short-circuit. I was so worried."

He let out a sigh of relief, "Oh thank fuck." He felt as if he hadn't been breathing this whole time. He gave you a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will give you everything you ever ask for. I will protect you no matter what. You're such a...a breath of fresh air. I thought you had some angelic power hold on me."

You laugh at his statement, "Angelic power hold, Vox? Really?" You were giggling uncontrollably at this point.

"Shut up!" He said in embarrassment, "Anyways! Y/N, will you be with me for the rest of eternity?"

You gave him a kiss on his screen, "Gladly, Vox."

While you two were cuddling it up in the restaurant while talking about business endeavors, Vox got a text on his phone from Velvette. She had sent him $500 with a text saying 'Treat her right or I'm putting her in my show.' after it.

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

390 notes · View notes

howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year ago

Note

Hi there, I absolutely adore you and love your writing and I'm excited that you're writing for jace now.

If it's okay, could I please request the prompts sleepy - number 44.

Have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening 💖💖

hi there! thank you so much, you have no idea how sweet you are for sending such a polite ask, and for your prompt “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” by thelonelyempath!

i definitely put you up high on my priority list for being so kind lol your message made my day

i also just really enjoyed writing this, it got me back into my groove.

have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening yourself and here you go, please let me know if you enjoy it! <3

No Rest For The Dragons

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x reader Setting: During The Dance of The Dragons Summary: All is quiet but no sense of peace can be caught between your fingertips, not even at night and so it is difficult to find sleep. Not until you win the war and crown your prince victorious...Your betrothed, Jacaerys, seems to have other priorities. Warnings: Brief talk of war dividers by: saradika wordcount: 1,412

A yawn tumbled past your lips with ease and a quiet whine quickly followed. Jacaerys Velaryon had never found anything more sweet in his entire existence but he wouldn’t tell you that…not yet at least. His eyes flickered over your sleepy face, the squished cheeks and rumbled hair. It made his heart throb, a desperation took hold to tighten his chest and squeeze. Slowly, he tucked his lower lip between his teeth and bit down. He could barely contain himself from cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss to those lips. His sleeping beauty…his beautiful briar…he would need to bring you a rose soon just for the sake of it because he never did think there was a world in which you were not his Aurora. Some universe in which he didn’t long for you. The backs of his fingers carefully caressed your face. The skin was so soft–practically begging for him to lay upon his gentle pecks of devotion–and yet he restrained himself. You may be his betrothed but you are not yet his wife. He must recall that, if he is to keep your honour…A grunt peeked through his teeth at the thought. The thought that anybody could see you as anything less than a guide of honour and duty as you fought at his side, on his very dragon with a bow and arrow within your hands. A quiver danced along the prince’s bones. He may think you to be beautiful in any state but he would gladly gift upon you anything you so much as dreamed or desired if you were to allow that to be his final sight. His last. The sight of you upon Vermax and casting down the enemy.

A smile flittered his lips as you stirred and stretched in his lap. “No, no go back to sleep.” He cooed, brushing back your hair and placing a wet flannel at your forehead. You were in your gentlest state this eve. You fended off his hand like a weak squirrel to reluctant avail. “Rest my love. You must rest.” The whine escapes the seam of your mouth before you can escape it. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” You practically taunt with your eyelids finally parting to peer up at him. As much as he wants to scoff and argue, he cannot help but smile down at the soft albeit exhausted face. Amusement laces his face but he lets his brow pinch. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to allow that.” You send a pointed look his way. “You would deny your wife?” “You would deny your prince?” He counters with playfulness and yet something excites him about the way ‘wife’ leaves your lips. How smoothly it goes…It only reminds him of how long he has deprived himself of kissing them. Of feeling the sweet flutter of lightning that would passes over your skin. His hand would dance throughout your hair, he was sure of it, sure that one the day of your wedding, he would summon all the strength he had been willing himself to retain and finally let go. He would deny himself for centuries if it meant you would let him bind himself to you for eternity–if you would let him vow until his throat dried up. If they were not to be his final words, he would repeat them until they were destined. He would be yours, he was sure of it. He does not say this of course as you sigh with a pointed stare.

It was the determination in your gaze that he adored above all. That very crinkle in your brow that arose whenever anybody were to question you. His throat bobs as he recalls how his hand would slide along to the small of your back–support from the true prince and heir of the iron throne–delighting as you took the lead. Happy to await your debates cease as you charged your mouth at any who claimed your position unfit. None of these men knew the battlefield as you did. None of these men had studied the art so intensively for this very moment. None of these men would protect him like you did, he was sure of it. And certainly none of them had helped teach him the ways of battle so that he could protect his own hide should something go askew. Now as he watches you, he lets his eyes wander along the small scars upon both your hands at such teachings. Your childhood together had been an entertaining ordeal; scars of book pages, scars of dragon mishaps, scars of blades…He wouldn’t trade those tiny indents for the world. He would not even trade for the oncoming victory of his mother’s crown. He would not.

Instead, Jacaerys’ breath hitches but he does not complain at your defiance. He welcomes it. “My darling, you must rest if you are so determined to fight beside me.” His words are teasing but the plummet of hardness cannot be unheard. He had always been serious. “I cannot allow myself the sight of injury should you–” His throat bobs but you hardly change your mind. “It could cause injury to you should I not properly plan our route.” The retort jumps from your tongue and he can tell this has been boiling for some time now, that the bubbles were ever-present. You’ve been locking this inside your mind for too long now. Far too long. His curled fingers glide down your cheek before stopping at your chin. He lifts it as delicately as he would a broken leaf and gazes sweetly into your eyes. “You can do this well rested. We have time.” “But what if–” “We have time.” He reassures you with the confidence of his ancestor, King Jaehaerys The Wise. Your shoulders slump reluctantly. You should trust him, you know you should–you are so very tired but the night is still relatively young and the troupes must still be waiting outside for you. Jace catches as your eyes track the opening of the tent and he is quick to soften you. “I told them we would resume our meetings tomorrow. You will not miss a thing, my sweet. I swear it to you.” His gentle kiss presses to your temple–one of the few acceptable places he can express such affections. When he pulls himself back, he lingers. Tentative, he waits. His eyes flicker to yours with unabashed uncertainty. “But first you must swear to me that you will rest.” Heat floods your cheeks but you have never shied away from eye contact before and you refuse to do it now. His eyes close and his breath fans over your lips. “Swear it to me.” He repeats through the air of a whisper. “I swear it.” You utter just as quietly, curling your palm around his hand and pressing a long, warm kiss to the knuckles. Jacaerys would be lying if he said that it was not a relief. He could not remember the last night you slept in where you did not awaken suddenly and draft a new strategy. That you did not recall a new route. One that needed your immediate and unrestrained attention.

And so as the night calls out for you, your soon-husband’s arms slip around you and one loops beneath your legs until he can haul you against him. His breath stutters as he inhales the scent of your hair. His lashes flutter against one another and he takes a few steady steps through the tent. Loving each other had taken its time. It had taken screaming arguments, jealousy, rekindling…but it had also taken laughter and warmth and kindness. Kindness that neither of you thought to be deserved. It had taken the darkest eves and the most golden mornings. He settles you on the plush mattress this night, and brushes back the uncomfortable strands of hair that cling to your skin. Your neck, your face, even the petals of your lips. He cannot blame them for craving your closeness. He hesitates as you close your eyes and your back squirms into place. For only one moment more, he lets himself take in a portrait of your rest. Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, Son of Rhaenyra and future King of the Seven Kingdoms accepts that he craves for nothing but your warmth. He intends to keep you as safe as this every eve, every nightfall.

One sleepless night after the next, he shall be your rest.

489 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, happy new year! Love your Elijah fics. Maybe you could do one where he turns off his humanity and the reader gets him to turn it back on again. :)

Cold Truth

{Masterlist}

You and Klaus are on a mission to turn Elijah's humanity switch back on. The only problem is that you are the reason he turned it off in the first place.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23 - this one hurt! ♡♡~

4.3k words - Warnings: no smut, but so much angst, dramatic as fuck, violence, kidnapping, Klaus being Klaus, slightly spicy right at the end.

The air was thick with tension as you struggled in your restraints, glancing at Klaus as he drove down an empty street. He was humming to himself, looking very relaxed despite the fact that he was holding you hostage.

"I still don't understand what this has to do with me," you muttered, tugging on the cuffs that were binding your hands together. "We broke up, it's not a big deal," you added.

"Well, it seems to be a big deal to him," Klaus said, shooting you a knowing smirk. "And it's been affecting my life, so now it's a big deal to me."

You sighed and stared out the window, watching the scenery blur as you moved through the town. You didn't want to tell Klaus the details of your break up with Elijah, it was all too painful. But here you were, getting kidnapped by him, on your way to see Elijah, probably about to get murdered by the man you still loved. Great.

"It won't work you know," you said, staring blankly out the windshield, feeling that little bit of hope in your chest die out.

"I get that he doesn't have emotions anymore," you continued, "so he definitely doesn't care about you. Whatever little plan you have going, won't work." You sounded desperate to even your own ears, and you hated it, but at least Elijah's lack of feelings gave you an excuse not to be a complete mess when you were in his presence again. He wouldn't care, he was devoid of compassion and guilt. The thought filled your heart with an emptiness that spread to the rest of your body. You let the feeling encompass you, numbing yourself against the pain, because once this ordeal was over, you would be forced to finally accept that Elijah was really, truly, lost forever.

Klaus laughed and turned, shooting you a smirk. "I've done my fair share of terrible things," he began.

"But," he sighed and stopped laughing, "even I can see what a complete shit show this is. You broke up with him a week ago, and he flipped the switch immediately. This whole thing has been dramatic, even for my tastes."

"Oh please," you sneered, turning to glare at him. "You live for drama," you said, rolling your eyes.

Klaus snickered, shaking his head as if it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Yes, well, as fun as this has been, there's only so much of it I can take."

You huffed and sighed, slumping in your seat as the light turned green. You turned away from him and tried not to let your anxiety show.

"Look," Klaus began, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "I'm going to be straight with you, love. Your break up with Elijah has been, inconvenient, to put it simply. He no longer cares about my well-being or the things I do. All he wants to do is feed, kill, drink and maim. I thought I would enjoy this side of him, but it turns out, the guy's a bloody asshole. And since you might have the ability to bring him out of this mess, it's in my best interest to try and help you."

You turned your head slowly, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. "You sure do have a way of showing it. Kidnapping is pretty terrible Klaus. Do you have any idea how scared I am right now? Not only have you kidnapped me, you are forcing me to confront my ex-boyfriend after I dumped him."

"I've done plenty to upset Elijah, but he's never flipped the switch over it. What exactly did you do to him?" Klaus demanded. He leaned closer to you, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he parked the car. "I'd suggest you start talking, sweetheart," he drawled, giving you a pointed look.

You bit your lip nervously, breaking under his intense gaze. Your shoulders dropped in defeat and you looked at your lap, chewing the inside of your cheek. You told him the truth, finally letting someone in on the secret you had kept from everyone.

"I told him that I didn't love him anymore, okay? I don't know," you trailed off, tears threatening to escape your eyes. "Look, I just, I needed to tell him something and that seemed easier than telling him the truth."

"So what's the truth?" Klaus asked gently. You couldn't bear to look him in the eye, so you stayed still and stayed quiet, trying to ignore the sound of blood rushing in your ears as you fought the urge to cry. After a few seconds, Klaus said your name softly, and when you looked up at him, there was genuine sympathy in his eyes.

You swallowed, trying to get ahold of yourself before you fell apart completely. "I want children, Klaus," you admitted. "And he can't give them to me. But it's okay, we broke up, and I'm fine." You were most definitely not fine, but that was beside the point. You finally confessed the truth, and felt a small bit of relief.

"Oh," he said. "Do you not want to adopt? Wouldn't surrogacy be an option? I can make a phone call and have a baby delivered to your door by tomorrow," he offered. You laughed, appreciating his attempts to make you feel better.

"No, Klaus. I'm sorry. I appreciate you trying, really I do," you said, giving him a sincere smile. "I want to have his child, and that is... well... impossible," you sighed.

There was a moment of silence, and you wondered what he was thinking. Klaus could be a lot of things, but you could tell he truly loved his siblings, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. His devotion was almost as intense as Elijah's and fear bubbled up in your stomach, knowing you were now in the crossfire of his affections for his older brother.

"You aren't still in love with him, are you?" Klaus asked. You felt your insides tremble at the mere mention of Elijah, but it wasn't enough to make your heart skip a beat or your head swirl. All you could feel was sorrow, because you knew how painful it would be to see him again. To be near him, but unable to touch him.

Klaus tilted his head, waiting for your answer. When he didn't get one, he asked again. "Answer the question, love," he said.

"Of course I still love him," you mumbled. "How could I not? I will always love him." You chuckled sadly, shaking your head and shrugging.

"Good, that will make this easier," Klaus said cheerfully, not sure how to react as he began fiddling with the radio station.

"He's going to kill me Klaus," you said, your voice flat and emotionless. "You're dragging me to him, and he's going to torture me or compel me into doing something bad and then when he's finished, he's going to kill me."

"Yes, possibly," Klaus agreed. "However, you could also bring him back and thus make my life a bit easier."

"We can only hope," you sighed. Klaus started driving towards the docks and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to control the terror building within you.

"Klaus, where are we going?" you asked warily, looking around.

"Well, my dear brother isn't answering his phone, so I'm tracking it instead," he said, gritting his teeth as he continued driving.

"Can we please just leave him alone?" you begged, but he didn't seem to hear you.

"Please," you added. "I'm begging you, Klaus. Don't torture me like this, I'm not strong enough to lose him twice."

"I really don't care how you feel about this, darling," he said, reaching a hand up and patting your head, before returning it to the steering wheel. "But don't worry, I promise I won't let him kill you."

You would have responded, but Klaus took the last turn and parked in front of one of the ships on the docks. He removed the handcuffs, his eyes darting about your surroundings in paranoia as he grabbed your wrists and dragged you out of the car. You didn't put up a fight and let him pull you along, too frightened and confused to even think about struggling. This wasn't what you had been expecting when Klaus took you, and now you didn't know what to say, so you remained silent and obedient. Klaus released his grip and took a step back, heading up the ramp to the ship.

You took a shaky breath and followed him, shivering a bit as you stepped on board. There was music playing, and while the exterior of the boat looked fairly plain, the inside was quite posh and immaculately decorated. You hesitated, glancing at Klaus, but he nodded his head and you followed him into a room. You could sense that Elijah was close. You slowly breathed in and your nose twitched when you caught the strong scent of bourbon.

"I see you have already begun celebrating, brother," Klaus drawled, glancing around the room.

"That depends on how you define celebration," came a quiet response, and you shuddered at the sound of his voice. It was Elijah, your Elijah, his words ringing with a lack of inflection that wasn't entirely evident in his tone. It had a falsely polite, and strangely charming touch, like the cold indifference and arrogance that comes from experiencing and achieving total freedom.

You watched as he poured himself another glass, sitting back in a chair. He stared straight ahead, not meeting your eyes as he lifted the glass to his lips, swirling the alcohol, tipping it slightly, and watching it roll around, before putting it down again, not even having taken a sip. You sniffed, doing your best to control your emotions and expression as you watched him, but your mask was slipping, and you couldn't hide the raw pain in your voice when you spoke.

"Are you okay?" you asked, sounding raspy and hoarse, even to your own ears. Normally, it would have made him feel guilty to hear you like this. Maybe he would have replied in his usual soft, intimate tone, grabbing your chin and kissing your lips gently, holding you close. But your Elijah was dead, and there was nothing left but the monster the switch had transformed him into. You glanced at his face and looked away immediately, the coldness in his dark eyes sinking into your soul. They were beautiful, and deadly, gazing at you in cold assessment, and his expression did not change as he gave you a humorless smile.

"I have never been better," he replied, not moving from his relaxed position on the chair, though you noticed a slight tightening in his jaw when you opened your mouth to speak again. You quickly snapped it shut and watched as he tapped the glass with his finger, gazing around the room and sighing. You didn't know if his admission was a good or a bad thing, but the way he carried himself, all arrogant grace and calculated casualness, had alarm bells ringing in your head, telling you that you were in great danger.

It was worse than you had expected. The man you loved, the one who had treated you with such gentleness and tenderness, the man whose heart was filled with love, loyalty and affection for you, was not present at all.

"We shouldn't have come here," you blurted out, your throat constricting at the sudden fear gripping you. His eyes flicked up to look at you, his brow furrowed as he stared. You cleared your throat, casting a worried glance at Klaus, who was standing by the bar, sipping his own drink and watching the whole scene play out.

"Why? What is the problem?" Elijah asked, and you couldn't tell if he was acting cavalier or genuinely didn't care. "You said you wanted to break up, and I obliged you. So tell me," he said, his dark eyes meeting yours, "why are you here?"

"Because," you began, but quickly lost your train of thought, shaking your head and trying to shake the overwhelming urge to cry. You sucked in a deep breath, tilting your chin up as you spoke. "Because we still have stuff we need to talk about, and we can't when you are like this."

"Like what?" he asked, sounding bored. Your jaw clenched as he casually poured himself more alcohol, draining the contents of his glass quickly and sighing.

"Well," Klaus interrupted, walking over and leaning forward on his knees, "You could start by being a tad less cocky, and try actually listening."

Elijah smirked at him, arching an eyebrow. "Niklaus, I suggest you shut your mouth before I rip your tongue out."

"That would be amusing," Klaus shot back, rolling his eyes. "I'd like to see you try, or have you forgotten I am stronger than you? You can't hurt me."

"Hmm," Elijah hummed thoughtfully, staring intently at his younger brother. "Let's test that."

Before either of you could react, Elijah reached out and grabbed the back of Klaus' head, yanking him forward and bringing his face inches from his own. He glared at him, snarling as Klaus groaned in pain.

"Don't be ridiculous," Klaus growled, his fingers flexing. Klaus easily pried his hands off of him and forced him to release him. He shoved Elijah back into the chair, a vicious smirk on his face as he crossed his arms.

"Eli," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. You moved to touch his arm, but he snatched it out of your reach and pushed it back, baring his fangs at you, his eyes completely black.

"Do not call me that," he responded coldly, shaking his head.

"You shouldn't have brought her," Elijah said to his brother, and you felt the sadness you had been suppressing all day come rushing back full force. You would not be strong enough to get through this.

"Oh don't blame me, dear brother," Klaus retorted, clasping his hands together and glaring at him in frustration. "It's very much her fault that you turned your humanity off, so I brought her here to fix her mistake."

"A mistake I care not to rectify," Elijah said, lifting his chin up haughtily.

"Oh," Klaus scoffed, fixing him with a nasty glare, "I bet you don't."

"Shut up," you mumbled, blinking furiously. Your legs were shaking, your knees about to give out as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Klaus stepped closer to you and you leaned against him, trembling, clinging to his shirt.

"Get a grip," Klaus hissed, glaring down at you in annoyance. He wrapped a hand around your throat and turned you around to face Elijah. His grip tightened, and you gasped in surprise and pain, your eyes wide as they met Elijah's intense gaze. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, something within him stirred at the sight of your fear, but it was buried beneath the ice of his indifference. Elijah narrowed his eyes as he stood up, smoothing down his tie as he approached.

"Niklaus, you are so painfully transparent," he began, an edge of amusement coloring his tone, "I do not care if you hurt her," he added, and his words cut deeper than any physical blow could.

"Eli," you pleaded, a soft whisper of pure agony coming from your lips, "How could you possibly say that? You swore you would always take care of me, protect me." He lowered his eyes, studying your features carefully. He looked down at you, stroking his chin.

"Hmm, you know, now that you say that, I'm feeling a little thirsty," he said, chuckling and stepping closer.

You shut your eyes, stifling a sob and trying to hide the fact that his words had broken your heart, shattering it into pieces. You couldn't bear his mockery, it was almost worse than not having him at all. It made the excruciating pain much more unbearable. Elijah stared at you, leaning closer and brushing a stray hair off of your cheek.

His lips hovered over yours for a split second, causing your lips to part in surprise and confusion, wanting his mouth to capture yours, knowing that the press of his lips was something you would always miss. Even when he was a monster, you felt yourself reacting to him instinctively, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But the kiss did not come, and he pulled away before you could rise to meet him.

"Do you think she knows how many ways she can die?" Elijah asked his brother, and Klaus sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I mean, with enough patience and creativity, even the simplest forms of death, can be quite extraordinary," he drawled.

Klaus pulled you back from Elijah, his grip on you tightening, you weren't sure who you feared more in that moment. "Elijah, I made a promise that I would not let you kill her," Klaus said, and Elijah rolled his eyes, his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing.

"That promise can easily be broken," he said, as if talking about the weather.

"Actually, I thought I would take a page out of your book, find a loophole in the promise I made," Klaus said, his voice taunting as he smiled cruelly. You stopped breathing at his words, your body going rigid, Klaus was going to kill you.

"Elijah?" you whispered desperately, praying that he would protect you from Klaus. You were so cold, and you couldn't move, rooted in place with fear. He turned around abruptly, shrugging his shoulders as he walked across the room to make a new drink.

"You can go ahead and drain her if you so wish. It makes no difference to me," he said.

"Sorry love, I have to call his bluff," Klaus said, patting your head and then running a hand through your hair as his fangs grazed your neck. His voice was dark and malicious. "Say your goodbyes," he smirked.

"Klaus, please," you cried, panic coursing through you, but before he could do anything more, Elijah lunged at him, tearing him away from you. Your back hit the floor hard, your head snapping against the wood, causing you to see stars. You cradled your head, tasting blood in your mouth as you rolled on the floor. Elijah tackled Klaus, growling and snarling viciously, his fingers clenched around his brother's neck as he pinned him to the ground.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on her," Elijah warned, but Klaus only smirked, using all his strength to shove Elijah off of him. Elijah's back connected with a pillar, falling to the floor as he clutched his head. He just sat there, head in his hands, his shoulders slumped, taking quick, shuddering breaths, attempting to regain some sort of composure. You crawled your way over to him, too dazed to stand up.

"Eli," you gasped, lifting his face up and forcing him to look at you. He didn't try to pull away, letting you caress his jaw. You slowly stroked his hair, shushing him gently as your fingers trailed over his cheekbones.

"Get away from me," he groaned, grabbing your wrist to keep you from touching him. His mind was reeling from the violent overload of emotions coursing through him. Having you here, so close to him, wanting him, loving him, it overwhelmed him, bringing back every single moment he had spent with you, every beautiful, painful, joyous moment of his entire existence.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you sobbed, reaching out to touch him. He wasn't pushing you away, he was just sitting there, hunched over, breathing heavily. Your mind was too foggy to think about the consequences of your actions. There was an excruciating ache in your chest, and you needed Elijah to hold you.

You threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your lips to the back of his neck, nuzzling him and letting tears stream down your face. He stilled, not fighting you, but not holding you.

"I lied to you Elijah, I'm sorry," you whispered, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as you hugged him tighter. "I love you, I never stopped. I'm sorry, please forgive me."

He didn't move, keeping his expression guarded as he put an arm around you, turning his body slightly to pull you in closer. He tilted his chin down and pressed his lips to the side of your head in a gentle kiss. His eyes were closed, your scent invading his nose, your hair tickling his neck. He sighed, your words, your presence, it was like a spark lighting up a flame of emotions in his chest as the switch in his head turned back on.

"I could never stop loving you," he murmured, opening his eyes and sitting up a bit, keeping you close to him.

"Well, looks like my work is done. Do give her a ride home when you are done, Elijah," Klaus drawled, smirking in triumph as he stood watching you, before swiftly making his way out of the room.

Elijah gripped your chin gently and forced you to turn to face him. You were horrified by the sadness in his dark eyes, but the relief you felt at seeing the love there tore you apart, and you burst into tears, gripping his face and pulling him towards you, kissing his lips, his jaw, his forehead, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

"Darling," he sighed, looking down at your tear stained face. He gently ran his thumb over your cheekbone, bringing your forehead to his as he just held you.

"Forgive me, I-I-was so scared," you managed to get out, but he hushed you, your breathing synchronizing as he hugged you tightly, running a hand through your hair.

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked, pulling away and stroking your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath his touch.

"I was afraid," you replied, sniffing and wiping your tears. "I didn't want to hurt you, I thought it would be easier to let you go if I pushed you away instead."

"What were you afraid of?" he questioned, guiding your face up, needing to see your beautiful, tear filled eyes.

"I was terrified at the prospect of getting old, growing old, and putting you through that. You'd have to watch as you lived a lifetime with me, and eventually I would be gone and you would be left alone," you gasped out, the words flowing out unbidden, unable to control yourself now that the gates had been opened. "and.. I want children of my own, and a family, I can't have all of that with you. This past week I've been so torn, I thought leaving you was the best thing to do, because I knew my choice would hurt you, and you didn't deserve that, and I didn't know how else to do this."

Elijah smiled sadly, shaking his head and cupping your cheeks. "None of that matters, my darling, and it never will. Don't you understand that? You are worth the heartache, the pain, the loss. You are worth being human for."

He kissed you gently, brushing your hair out of your face, causing more tears to slip down your cheeks as you fisted your hands in his shirt, allowing him to pour all of his love and heartache into the kiss. You were left breathless, staring into his eyes, seeing the sadness there that matched yours.

"As for children, I know a few witches that could help us solve that issue," he said. You blinked rapidly, stunned that his answer was so easy, simple. The corners of his lips quirked up, and you felt your heart thundering in your chest, desperate to have him, keep him forever.

"Do you want that? To have children with me?" you asked, your hands in his, hoping, praying, that he truly understood what he was getting himself into.

"With you, yes, anything you wish for, I will give you," he replied, resting his head on your shoulder, and nuzzling your neck. You drew in a deep breath, so relieved and overcome with a surge of emotions that you grabbed his head and planted another firm, passionate kiss on his lips.

He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that had you smiling despite all the tears you were shedding. Your fingers were clutching at his shirt, dragging him closer to you as you continued to kiss him, memorizing everything, his taste, the curves of his lips, the way his tongue felt against yours. He put his arm around your waist, and shifted, scooping you up into his lap, and into his arms.

"When was the last time we made love?" he whispered against your lips, pulling away and looking into your eyes, his gaze caressing your features softly.

"Three months," you whispered, stroking his stubbled jaw, running your fingers over his lips, marveling at the feel of his warm, soft skin, thinking that you almost never had the chance to be with him again.

"That's much too long," he murmured, sliding his hands up your thighs and grinning seductively. You chuckled, feeling a heated blush creep up your neck and spread across your cheeks. His fingers traced the edge of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"I love you, Elijah Mikaelson," you said, grinning broadly as your fingers threaded through his hair, savoring the feel of it. He just sat, staring at you with warmth and adoration, unspoken love shining in his deep brown eyes.

"For eternity, I will love you, my y/n," he whispered, pressing his lips gently against yours, and you melted into him, gripping the back of his neck as you felt a piece of your soul slide back into place, wrapped tightly around his heart.

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #klelijah

833 notes · View notes

emilykaldwen · 10 months ago

Text

FFWAD 24 - Sins of the Father by @selfproclaimedunicorn

For my first foray into this yearly celebration with @renegadeguild, I picked the brilliant and fantastic story, Sins of the Father by @selfproclaimedunicorn. Misa has taken the fantastic AU premise 'What if Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce had kids?' and has run with it in the most delicious and satisfying way. The story isn't complete, but the first 'arc' has a good stopping point at a whopping 160k words, which made for the chonkiest book you could imagine.

This was the twelth book I've bound (both fic and rebinds of old favorites) and I tried several new techniques for it including rounding and backing the spine. I also stretched my legs in the formatting department and went all in with the interior. That meant ordering some special springhill paper to do these fantastic maps for the endpages. Full details behind the cut!

Typesetting: Normally I've kept my settings pretty minimal as I got used to the ins and outs of InDesign (during this, I did purchase Affinity Publisher and might end up moving to that, but I'm finally getting the hang of ID and you can pry it from my cold hands). I really wanted to mimic some of the interior of Fire & Blood for this, so I hunted down the fonts used and took an image of the decorative banner you see on the sides to use for the chapter openers. I also wanted to include timelines and family trees in true historically inspired fantasy tradition.

The family tree was created based off of the author's spreadsheet in Google Drawing, which I found to be the easiest thing to use when it comes to creating chaotic family trees like this (In the past I'd used lucid chart for a printable version, but google worked better here).

the timeline is honestly my favorite thing and I learned how to use tables in ID for the first time. I'm incredibly pleased with it. The formatting is based upon the line of kings in the source. The timeline covers the events of the first arc as printed in this particular story.

The chapter openers are some of my favorite! As the children are proud to be House Royce, I wanted to reflect that. The runes you see behind the Chapter number and title are the Floki font and name the character whose the POV for each chapter.

Since there's plenty of High Valyrian spoken and the author doesn't include the translations within narrative, it was the perfect moment to set up footnotes. I'll absolutely be doing this for my own story when I bind it!

Rounding and Backing: So this was a total adventure, but I really wanted the old book feel. I made the mistake of pressing the book for too long and lost a lot of the swell in the spine to round but it worked out AND I managed to back it a little bit. Since I wasn't doing cord tapes for the spine (this was a version of the three piece bradel), I had to troubleshoot. I ended up cutting strips of the leather cord I bought from michaels and laminating those pieces together and placing them on the oxford hollow on the spine (given how thick the book is, I wanted to give it as much structural strength as possible). The 'leather' covering you see is actually the craft leather (polyester) from Dollar Tree and it's pretty awesome but definitely has difficulties staying put with glue. I followed the normal procedure and slathered both sides up and used twine to compress the bookcloth along those leather pieces. there's a little gaping in some places which I think would help if I'm able to properly apply backing paper to the polyester.

HTV do's and don'ts: Hi! don't be me and forget to apply your teflon sheets before applying the HTV because then you fuck with the polyester but it's not too bad. The other pro-tip is to gently apply the iron to the cover so it's warm before applying the HTV so it can start to stick. I had to apply the front cover in three pieces and do the title twice. Also, it's really difficult to apply HTV to a rounded spine so I'll have to figure out how to set up the spine and cover before applying (since there's a certain amount of stretching the bookcloth over the spine). The spine might end up having to be regular adhesive vinyl for that. Also, it's stupidly hard to find metallic HTV in bronze.

Front matter and final thoughts: The bronze dragon was a lucky find through an extensive google search, and the runes surrounding it are 'we remember with fire and blood', a combination of House Royce and House Targaryen's words. Seems fitting four Yorick, Ella, and Aemon! The copyright page is mimicked off the source's style, including the AO3 information, the creative commons and fair use information, the guild stamp, a QR code to the AO3 page, and my own press stamp! The summary is pulled from AO3 as well.

All in all, I made this book twice and I loved it and learned so much every time.

I'm so happy with this project and I'm so excited to do the next arc! Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful story, Misa!

#bookbinding #my bookbinding #renegadelovesfic #fanbinding #ffwad #house of the dragon #hotd fic #misa tag

160 notes · View notes

cafechichay · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 2 | Between Mercy & Malice

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Pairing - Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader

Word Count - 6309 words

Content Warning - Alot of aruging (I was in an angsty argumentative mood so I may have gotten carried away), I feel like this is more of a filler to what I have planned. Also this definitely will be more than 4 chapters. I love putting my reader in pain? Sorry guys

A.N. Not really happy with this to be honest, but it is what it is. If it disappears I probably decided to rework it. I actually did a bit of my thesis this time so its like a reward. Please praise me i know this isn't the best, but my English clocks out when I'm at home and I did my thesis so like.

====================================

The Scriptorium breathed. It inhaled with the shifting of shadows and exhaled with the distant creak of bookshelves, the air thick and damp with age. The stone walls were slick in places, the scent of mildew threading through the heavy perfume of melted wax and rotting parchment. The green candlelight barely held back the dark, casting a sickly glow that did little to warm the space. It wasn’t just dim—it was oppressive, the kind of darkness that pressed against the skin, slithered into the lungs, and settled like a weight in the bones.

Sebastian moved through it, restless, pacing, fingers ghosting over cracked book spines. The bookshelves loomed over him, towering far past where the candlelight could reach, their contents shrouded in shadows so deep they almost felt alive. The books themselves were ancient, their bindings peeling, their pages brittle with time. Many bore no titles, just faded etchings or deep gouges like someone had tried to erase them from existence. He pulled them down one by one, flipping feverishly through their pages, his breathing shallow.

Not enough. Not enough.

The words on the parchment blurred as he skimmed them—descriptions of dark spells, forbidden potions, rituals that required things he refused to consider. The magic here was cruel, twisting the body and mind, but none of it was what he needed. None of it was the answer.

You are close.

A voice slithered through the silence, curling around his thoughts like smoke.

Sebastian flinched, his grip tightening on the book in his hands. The voice curled around him like smoke, whispering from the edges of the room, seeping into the space behind his ribs.

Keep looking.

There is more. You know there is more. You just must keep looking.

He stiffened, fingers tightening around the brittle pages of an unnamed tome. The whisper had no clear source, no direction—it simply was, sinking into his mind like spilled ink into water.

He exhaled through his nose, grounding himself. He was imagining things. It was the Scriptorium playing tricks, feeding on the exhaustion that gnawed at him. That was all.

You are close. But you need more.

His hands moved faster now, turning pages in a frenzy, scanning for something—anything— that could help Anne. The flickering light stretched his shadow across the stone floor, distorting its shape, making it seem as if something else lurked just behind him, just out of sight. The sensation crawled up his spine, bhut he ignored it. His heart pounded against his ribs. He knew it wasn’t real. He knew the Scriptorium was a place steeped in dark magic, a place designed to worm into the mind, to tempt, to lure. But knowing did not make it any easier to ignore.

You have no time for doubt, the voice urged, a slow, insidious thing. You have seen what curse magic can do. What if the answer is not in undoing it, but in understanding it?

“I just need to find the right spell,” he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to focus, to ignore the way the air felt thick with something unseen. “Something that can help Anne.”

Sebastian’s fingers hesitated on a page lined with jagged runes, their meaning just out of reach.

Yes, the voice cooed. For Anne. But you know, don’t you? The magic in these pages is not enough. It never is. You must go deeper.

You could wield it. Bend it to your will. Make them pay.

He shut the book with a snap, breath coming quicker now. His hands shook as he grabbed another, flipping through pages lined with cramped, spidery text. More pain curses, rituals demanding blood and bone. Not enough. Not what he needed.

He shook his head. “No. I just—I just need a way to fix her.”

The voice hummed in amusement. You hesitate. Why? If you had the power, you could have saved your already.

And what happens when you cannot? The whisper curled at the edges of his mind, sinking deeper. When the damage is permanent? When there is no cure?

His throat tightened. “This is for Anne,” he said, harsher this time. “I don’t care about anything else.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened. No. There had to be something. He refused to accept anything less.

A pause. Then—No? What about the ones who hurt her? The ones who left her like this?

She deserves justice, Sebastian. You know that. They hurt ger. And they will do it again, and again, and again. They will hurt others. But you can stop them. You can make sure no one else suffers like she did.

Sebastian went still.

If you will not do it, then who will? Solomon? He could not even make it as an accomplished auror. Do you really want to leave your sister’s life in his hands?

“I’m doing something.” He snapped, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

They did this to her. They deserve to suffer for it.

You need more.

A sharp exhale left his lips. His pulse roared in his ears, in time with the flickering candlelight. He had thought it before—they had done this. Anne had been cursed, her life stolen piece by piece, and no one had paid the price for it.

Sebastian’s breath came faster now, his grip white-knuckled on the brittle parchment.

The voice curled around the thought like a serpent tightening its coils. Make them pay. You have the power—you just need more.

And you know where to find it.

His fingers dug into the cover of the book. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “I just need to find the cure,” he whispered, but it didn’t sound as certain as before.

Then—

The Scriptorium breathed. The shadows stretched longer, the darkness thickening. The voice was closer now, just behind his ear.

And if the cure is vengeance? Wouldn’t that be justice? Wouldn’t Anne be safer? It exhaled, a near-tangible warmth against his neck. Wouldn’t you feel better?

A metallic crash shattered the air.

The sound shattered through the thick silence, sharp and jarring. A bronze oil lamp hit the stone floor, rolling on its side before settling. The flame sputtered, flickering wildly, casting frantic shadows against the walls.

Sebastian whirled around, his heart slamming into his ribs. His wand was already in his hand before he realized what had happened.

====================================

You were there, a bronze oil lamp split by your feet, rocking slightly where it had fallen. Just beyond it, you stood frozen, your fingers still half-outstretched like you had tried—and failed—to stop it from toppling over. Ominis was beside you, hovering at your shoulder, his posture stiff with tension.

Slumped slightly against the pulpit, your breath uneven, your hand clutching your shoulder as if to contain something unseen. Ominis hovered at your side, his face pale and drawn, one hand outstretched as if prepared to catch you should you fall. Your lips parted, but no words came out at first. Your gaze flickered to Sebastian, taking him in—his heaving chest, his pale face, the wild look in his eyes.

Sebastian’s pulse roared in his ears, drowning out the remnants of the voice, silencing its whispers in an instant.

“What… what are you doing?”

“What happened?” His voice sounded foreign, hoarse, as if he had forgotten how to use it.

Ominis snaped his head towards him, the movement sharp filled with unrestrained fury tightening his features.

“What do you think happened?”

Sebastian’s mouth opened, but no words came. His gaze flickered back to you, taking in the way you trembled despite your insistence that you were fine, the way you held yourself stiffly, pain leaking through cracks in your façade.

Your voice was quiet, uncertain. "Sebastian? What are you doing?"

The world around you was slow. Too slow. As if time had stretched thin, the air thickened into something treacherous, and every breath lodged itself in your chest before you could fully take it in. The Scriptorium loomed, the weight of its darkness pressing against your skin, the shadows dense and unmoving. The oil lamp rocked where it had fallen, the dying flame sputtering, reflecting weakly in the damp sheen of the stone floor.

You forced yourself to look past it, to take in the bookshelves lining the walls—towering, gnarled things that seemed to shift in the periphery of your vision. The scent of old parchment and melted wax hung heavy, cloying in your throat. Somewhere, the low creak of wood settled into silence, as if even the Scriptorium itself had gone still in anticipation.

Your body ached. It was not the sharp, bright kind of pain that demanded immediate attention, but something insidious—an ache that had settled deep beneath your skin, creeping through your veins like slow-moving poison. Your muscles trembled as you tried to shift your weight, the ghost of the curse still lingering, burrowing into your bones. Every inhale sent dull, throbbing waves through your ribs, your back, your limbs. You clenched your jaw.

Not now. Not in front of them.

You exhaled through your nose, careful, controlled, and lifted your gaze to Sebastian.

He was standing stiffly, his wand still gripped in one hand, knuckles bloodless where his fingers dug into it. His chest rose and fell too fast, his dark eyes blown wide, darting over your like he was searching for something—reassurance. Or confirmation of something worse. His robes were dishevelled, the collar of his shirt undone, his tie slightly askew like he had yanked at it without realizing. The candlelight cast sharp hollows along his face, accentuating the tension in his jaw, the tightness around his mouth. His hair, usually immaculately in place, was a mess—strands sticking up like he had run his hands through it one too many times. He looked wild. Unsettled.

When he spoke, his voice was too tight, too sharp around the edges. "You—you're alright?" The words came out rushed, tangled, as if he hadn’t meant to say them that way. He swallowed, squared his shoulders, and when he spoke again, it was different—measured, lighter. "I mean—of course you are. You're—you know, you."

You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. Your limbs felt weighed down, each movement a test of willpower. Instead, you just watched him, eyes tracing the flicker of uncertainty that flashed across his face before he buried it beneath something else—something steadier, more composed.

A mask. One you weren’t sure was meant for your or for himself.

"Sebastian.” Your voice was softer this time, but no less cautious. “What are you doing?"

He stiffened. His grip on the book tightened, knuckles straining against his skin. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came at first—just a breath, sharp and unsteady, like he was bracing himself.

"I—I was just—" he started, the words faltering, tripping over themselves before he caught them. His gaze flickered away, down to the book clutched in his hands, as if he had to remind himself of it. "I found something. I think. It—it might be—"

A sharp inhale. His fingers curled tighter around the brittle parchment, his voice rushing now, words spilling over one another. "It’s not enough, but it’s close. I just—I need to keep looking. There’s more, I know there’s more, I just have to—"

He stopped abruptly, as if realizing how frenzied he sounded. He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and forced his expression into something more measured. "I mean—everything is mentioning things about curses but— it's like— there has to be the exact one—"

Sebastian’s voice wavered with urgency, each word coming out more frantic than the last, the book in his hands trembling as if it were an anchor keeping him grounded. His dark eyes darted around the room, flicking over you with an intensity that felt more like searching than concern.

“I—” He paused, jaw clenched. “I need to find it, the spell, the one that’ll—”

He stopped again, as if realizing something, or maybe sensing that you were watching him too closely. His gaze flickered down to the book, his fingers twitching as though he was physically trying to keep his thoughts from spilling out all at once.

“Sebastian, you’re shaking,” you said softly, but the words held weight.

He looked up at your then, his breath coming too fast. The wildness in his gaze only sharpened, like a storm too close to contain. He looked as if he were about to say something more, but then he just inhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

“It’s not enough,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “The magic in these books, it’s all twisted, broken. But—there’s more, I know it. I can feel it.”

You took a cautious step closer, every movement a calculated decision. Your body was still burning with the lingering pain, the ache that spread through your like a poison, but you forced it back, pushing the feeling to the back of your mind. You weren’t going to let it show, not now.

“Sebastian, what are you talking about?” Your voice was steady, though a flicker of something sharp ran through the words. You didn’t like the way he was speaking, the desperation edging into his tone, the way the intensity in his eyes seemed to burn through you.

He swallowed hard, fingers clutching the book so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. “Well, it’s—it’s for Anne. You... I can’t fix her. Not the way I thought. But I’ll—I’ll find a way to make it right. There’s always a way.” His voice cracked on the last words, but he quickly recovered, steadying himself before continuing.

You studied him, every movement, every shift in his posture. His face was drawn, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to the sleepless nights, the obsession that had taken over him.

“Sebastian...” you said again, this time with more force, stepping closer. “What exactly are you looking for? What’s in these books? What’s the real plan here?”

For a moment, his eyes locked onto hers, and you could see the flicker of hesitation. It was brief, but it was there. The briefest second of vulnerability before it was buried again, buried beneath layers of frustration and confusion.

“The curse,” he finally said, his voice low, strained. “I can feel it, sense it. There’s something in these rituals, something that can help you. Something that’ll make them all pay for what they did to her.”

Your stomach turned. You couldn’t stop the sick feeling that twisted through you at the mention of vengeance. Justice. He had mentioned that word before, but now it felt wrong. Wrong in a way you couldn’t explain, a way that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

“Sebastian, no,” you said firmly, reaching for his arm, the touch a careful grounding force. Your fingers brushed the fabric of his sleeve, the tension in his muscles tangible beneath the layers. “This isn’t the way. You can’t—this isn’t about revenge.”

He jerked his arm away from your touch, a look of panic flashing across his face, quickly masked by anger. “What do you know? You think I want to—” He stopped, words faltering again, as if he was realizing that he didn’t even believe what he was saying.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he shot back, his voice rising, a touch of bitterness creeping into the edges. “I’m trying to save your, I am.” His eyes softened slightly, the storm clouding his gaze dissipating just enough to show a glimpse of the desperation beneath. “But I can’t let them just get away with it. I won’t sit back while my sister rots away because somebody had the power to do something and chose not to.”

Your chest tightened. You had never seen him like this, this close to breaking, his mind spiralling into a dangerous place.

“But Sebastian,” you said softly, your voice a little more fragile this time, “this magic—what it’s doing to you, to your mind. It’s already changing you. You’re slipping into something darker.”

He flinched, his body stiffening as your words struck a nerve. “I’m not—” he started, but his voice cracked, and for a second, it was like he didn’t know what to say anymore. “I’m doing this for Anne. You’re everything to me.”

“I know,” you whispered, stepping closer. Your hands trembled at your sides, fighting the instinct to reach for him, but you could see him pushing back, not just from your, but from everything that had been weighing on him.

“You’re not alone in this,” you said, your words as steady as you could make them. “But don’t let your pain drive you to this point.”

Sebastian’s eyes closed briefly, his breath hitching. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, turning away from your, facing the books again. The air in the room felt colder, more suffocating as he began speaking to himself, barely noticing the way his voice seemed to spiral into an endless loop.

“I just need more. I just need to find the right one...” he mumbled, as though trying to convince himself of something he couldn’t fully grasp.

You stepped forward and took hold of his wrist, your fingers firm around his skin as you pulled him back to face you. “Sebastian, stop. You need to listen. You’re not hearing me.”

He jerked his arm away from your grip, a flash of frustration crossing his features. His chest heaved with a sharp exhale before he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“And how is it any different?” he shot back, his voice tinged with a bitter edge. “How is it any different from you going after the poachers? Or all those dark wizards you’ve fought? You didn’t hesitate then—so why should I now?”

Your heart skipped at his words. He was right, in a twisted way. You had done things too, things you weren’t proud of. But this? This felt different.

“What do you mean, why should you now?” you spat, finally breaking. Your words came faster, the frustration you had been keeping in seeping through, a storm of emotion breaking loose. “You’re talking about dark magic, Sebastian. You’re talking about destroying yourself for a chance at getting back at someone. At taking revenge. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking just fine,” he snapped, eyes flashing. He took a step forward, bringing them uncomfortably close, his presence overwhelming. “Don’t act like you know what this feels like. You’ve never lost someone you love and been powerless to do anything about it.”

Your breath hitched at his words, but you didn’t back down. “I’ve lost people, too,” you countered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I get it, Sebastian. I understand the rage, the helplessness. But this? This isn’t you. It isn’t who you are.”

He stood silent for a moment, his face softening only slightly before hardening again. “You think I want to lose myself in this?” he asked quietly, though there was a bitter edge to his voice now. “I’m not choosing this. But I have to do whatever it takes.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. Your hands were shaking, your body still aching with the remnants of the curse, but you forced herself to focus. Something was brewing deep in your chest; anxiety or fear you couldn’t decide. You took a deep breath, your voice quieter but firm. “I’m not letting you do this. Not for Anne, not for anyone. This isn’t the way.”

His eyes searched hers, desperate, but there was something unreadable in his gaze, something lost. “And what if it is?” he whispered, his voice almost raw. “What if this is the only way?”

Sebastian’s gaze hardened as he glared back at your, a storm brewing in his eyes. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice thick with bitterness. “You obviously can’t. This isn’t just about revenge. This is about saving you. You think the Ministry can help you? Or my uncle? What about the people at St. Mungo’s? They can’t do anything. They won’t. You’re slipping through our fingers, and I’m the only one who can do something.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first. The anger rose in your chest, settling like a knot in your stomach. You felt your hands tremble, the fury bubbling beneath the surface, but you clenched your fists to control it.

“No one else is going to save her,” Sebastian continued, his voice rising, the desperation cutting through his words. “And no one else is going to make them pay for what they’ve done. I’m the only one who can fix this, and if you can’t see that, then maybe you’re not the person I thought you were.”

The words cut deeper than he intended, but they didn’t break you. Instead, they fuelled the fire in your chest, making your pulse quicken. You stepped forward, ignoring the sharp pang of pain that still crawled through your body. You were done keeping your thoughts in check.

“You think this is about saving Anne?” you snapped, your voice barely controlled, the tension in your chest making it harder to breathe.

Beside your Ominis flinched, his hand twitched toward you, an instinct to offer support—comfort, even—but you quickly pulled away, your breath hitching. Not now, Ominis. You couldn’t deal with his concern, not when everything felt like it was unravelling.

“You’re wrong,” you continued, your gaze sharp, your voice growing colder. “This isn’t about you. It’s about you thinking you can control everything—everyone.”

He froze, the tension in the room thickening around them. Ominis didn’t argue. He wouldn’t. His presence, the faint shift of his weight on the stone floor, was all that marked his silent worry. You knew he understood. But it didn’t matter.

You couldn’t stop yourself now, the words tumbling out faster than you could stop them, your chest tightening with frustration. “I’ve lost so many people, Sebastian. So many. And you know what? I didn’t have the luxury of getting revenge or making everything right again. You want to fix everything? Then start by looking at what’s in front of you, not some damn curse or twisted spell.”

Your voice cracked on the last words, the weight of your unspoken truth pressing down harder than you anticipated. You didn’t want him to know. You couldn’t bear to tell him. But it was there, unspoken, just beneath the surface.

Sebastian took a step back, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before narrowing.

His mouth opened slightly, as if he might deny it—might defend himself—but no words came. For a heartbeat, the mask cracked. A flicker of something else passed through his eyes—guilt? Doubt?

Then it was gone. His jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened, his fury reigniting like a flame starved of air for too long.

The tension in the room was thick, his chest rising and falling with each breath. “I don’t need you to understand,” he said quietly, but the words carried a sharp edge, like they were meant to wound. “I just need you to stay out of the way. I’m doing this, with or without you.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you didn’t want to admit it, but it felt like the final straw. Your patience snapped. “You want to talk about retribution?” you spat, your voice trembling with the force of your anger. “What about yourself, Sebastian? What about what this is doing to you? Because I see it. I see you spiralling, and I’m telling you right now, you’re not going to find redemption in this. You’re not going to find anything but more darkness.”

Sebastian flinched as if the words stung, but then his eyes hardened once again, his anger flaring back. “You think I don’t know that?” he hissed. “I’m not stupid. But I’m doing this for you. You can’t- or won’t understand that, but I don’t need you to.”

Your breath hitched as you clenched your fists, fighting the urge to lash out. You couldn’t—you wouldn’t let him drag you into this madness. “Sebastian, you’re not the only one who’s ever lost someone,” you said through gritted teeth, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “And maybe I can’t fix everything, but I don’t lose myself trying. And I won’t let you.”

He stepped closer, his expression furious, but there was something else behind his eyes, something darker. “Then what do you expect me to do, huh? Let you suffer?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You really think that if I just sit back and let the world spin its way, I’m going to be okay with that? Anne’s dying, and I’m the only one who can save her.”

"Sebastian, you’re not listening!" You were shaking now, frustration mounting with every word he spat in your direction. Your hands curled into fists at your sides, a futile attempt to control the emotions that were spiralling out of control. "This is enough, we’re done here. We’re leaving."

"Leaving?" Sebastian laughed bitterly, stepping closer to you. His eyes burned with an intensity that only made your feel smaller. "You think you're in control of this? You think you get to decide? We’re talking about your—Anne, my sister! Do you have any idea what it’s like to see your sister wasting away, helpless? If you’re not willing to make the hard decisions, fine! Don’t stand in my way. I won’t let you suffer because you think this is some moral high ground!"

"Stop using Anne as an excuse!" You snapped; your voice louder than you intended. The words stung like acid. "You're dragging us all down, Sebastian. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. It seems never have."

Sebastian’s face darkened. "And what the hell do you know about me?" He was close now, close enough that you could feel his breath, hot and desperate. "I didn’t ask for this, for any of it. But now that we have a way, I’m not going to stop—not for you, not for anyone. You can sit there with your moral superiority all you want, but it won’t change the fact that the only way to save Anne is by using this!"

The air around them began to hum, a barely perceptible shift, like static building up before a storm. But neither of them noticed. You were too angry, too hurt by his words, and he was too consumed, too overwhelmed.

A weight pressed against your ribs. The words felt like they were suffocating your, every syllable a slap. The frustration and the hurt came crashing down on your at once, a tidal wave that you couldn’t hold back. Your ancient magic, that faint tinge of blue swirling at your core, surged in response to your outburst. You could feel it.

Feel it creeping up from the depths, like a living thing.

A heavy stillness settled over the chamber, pressing against your ribs like an iron vice. The air felt thick, suffocating, yet you forced herself to keep your breathing steady. One inhale. One exhale. Your hands curled into fists at your sides as you held your ground against Sebastian, his expression flickering between frustration and something darker.

You could feel it worming in, that strange hum beneath your skin. Faint, at first. A whisper at the edges of your awareness. It coiled in your stomach, curling around your ribs, the sensation neither warm nor cold but something in between—like a held breath before a storm. The more Sebastian spoke, the tighter it wound, coiling, twisting, writhing in response to the sharp edge of your anger.

You clenched your jaw. It was fine. You were fine. You just had to hold on a little longer.

But the weight of it only grew. The candlelight flickered, dimming in and out of focus, shadows stretching and contorting at the edges of your vision. You shifted your stance, suddenly unsteady. Something inside your pulsed, an erratic beat hammering against the walls of your ribs. It didn’t hurt—yet—but it was there, pressing, pushing, waiting.

Sebastian took a step closer, his voice cutting through the thick air between them, sharper now, demanding. You flinched. It wasn’t the words themselves that rattled your but the way they struck something deep inside your chest, sending another pulse through your veins.

In an instant, everything shattered.

Books—thousands of them—shot from the shelves, their bindings splintering in mid-air as they were torn from their resting places. The lecterns shook violently, toppling over, their pages flapping like wings in a desperate attempt to escape. Glass shattered with a deafening crack as windows splintered into a thousand jagged shards, cascading down like rain.

The floor beneath your seemed to buckle, the force of the magic warping the very fabric of the room. A crackling energy spiralled upward, wrapping around the balcony, pulling it apart. The once-sturdy wood groaned in protest before giving way, the entire structure collapsing with a violent crash, sending dust and debris into the air, scattering books across the room like confetti.

The ancient magic, untamed and wild, continued to roar around your, thrumming through every inch of the space, as though it had finally been set free.

And then, just as quickly as it came, it snapped back into place, leaving the room in a suffocating silence, the aftermath of destruction hanging in the air.

====================================

The dust in the Scriptorium hung thick in the air as the ceiling groaned, cracking under the strain of the crumbling balcony. You could feel the tremors of the ancient magic coursing through you, a raw power that was not your own, nor fully under your control. The voice inside your head was insistent, relentless, its words like fire burning in your skull.

You can’t control this... You need dark magic to control it. Only then will you be able to harness this power.

Your body trembled violently as the voice echoed louder. The sharp sting of agony from the curse you'd taken earlier was a constant hum beneath everything—an insidious reminder of your helplessness.

“No!” you gasped, your chest heaving. You barely noticed the tears slipping down your cheeks as you fought to keep yourself grounded, but the voice… it was too strong. It had found its way into your mind, tainting your thoughts, pushing you toward something dark.

Your skin burned, as if fire was racing beneath it, crawling under your flesh, making you feel like you were being torn apart from the inside out. Every breath was sharp and ragged, each one laced with a pain that felt like it was suffocating you. You could feel the magic twisting through you, contorting your insides as the power surged, wrapping around your heart, threatening to crush it.

It wasn’t just physical pain—it was a gnawing, relentless pressure, like every part of you was fighting against something far bigger than you could understand. The air around you was suffocating, and the ground seemed to shift beneath you, adding dizziness to the agony already clouding your senses.

You need darkness to tame this. You’re too weak. It will consume you unless you embrace it.

Your hands shot up, desperately trying to pull at your robes, as if you could strip away the foreign presence creeping into your soul. You didn't know if it was the magic or the pain that had you shaking, but you couldn’t stop yourself from clawing at your arms, trying to rip the feeling away.

“Agh!” you cried, your voice strained, but the words weren’t enough to drown out the voice in your mind.

Ominis' hands were at your sides immediately, firm but gentle, trying to steady you. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, the touch warm against the coldness that had overtaken your skin. His face was drawn, strained, his breath quick as he struggled to understand what was happening to you, but his heart was full of nothing but concern.

“I’ve got you,” he urged softly, his voice laced with panic as he tried to keep your hands down, his own trembling. “Just breathe, I’ve got you right here.”

You could feel his presence, so close, but it wasn’t enough. The voice demanded more. You need darkness to control this. You’re nothing without it.

Sebastian stood at a distance, frozen, his gaze locked on the two of you. His eyes were wide, filled with a strange, awe-stricken wonder as he watched your struggle, his lips barely moving as he murmured under his breath.

"Untapped potential..." he muttered, his voice low, a hint of admiration lacing the words. "She has so much more than she knows."

Ominis whipped his head toward Sebastian, his breath ragged as he screamed, “Sebastian! Help me! She’s going to hurt herself—help me hold her down!”

For a moment, Sebastian didn’t respond, his gaze distant, lost in his own thoughts. Then, as if snapping back to reality, his face shifted, a strange light flashing in his eyes. He moved forward, his movements sharp and focused, though there was still an edge of hesitation to his steps.

"Right," he muttered, his voice cool but laced with urgency. "I’ll help. Hold on."

But Ominis didn’t hear Sebastian’s words clearly, not in that moment. His focus was entirely on you, on your frantic movements, on the way you fought against the agony and the power inside of you. He couldn’t let you fall deeper into it.

His grip tightened around your arms as you struggled, and he whispered, “Tell me what I can do, please.”

But the voice inside your head only grew louder, more insistent. It was suffocating, urging you toward darkness, promising control in exchange for everything else. Embrace it. Only then will you be free.

The pain intensified, a twisting, scorching fire that felt like it was ripping through every nerve in your body, making it feel like your skin was crawling off you. Your vision blurred as sweat dripped down your face, the heat unbearable. Your hands jerked again, desperate, and Ominis flinched as your fingers fought against his grip, your eyes wild with panic. "No, I don’t want it!" you cried out again, your voice cracking, the words barely audible through the rasp in your throat.

You could barely focus on the sound of Ominis' voice as he tried to calm you, his hands steadying yours, trying to keep you from tearing at yourself. Every second felt like it stretched into an eternity, the pain only becoming sharper, more intense, until it felt like your very bones were on fire.

Sebastian finally reached you, his movements frantic as he clambered over the rubble, his hands scraping against the broken stone in his haste. His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts, but the murmurs never stopped, a quiet stream of words spilling from his lips. He wasn’t looking at Ominis anymore, his focus entirely on you, as though he could see something no one else could. His hands briefly brushed against Ominis’ in the attempt to hold you down, but he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes gleaming with an almost unsettling fascination as they locked on you.

“She doesn’t know it yet... but she’s destined for so much more,” he whispered, barely audible, his voice low and distant. The words slipped from his mouth like a hidden truth, his admiration evident.

Ominis whipped his head back toward Sebastian, his heart racing as he screamed in desperation, "Sebastian, for Merlin’s sake, help me!" His voice cracked under the strain, but Sebastian didn’t respond immediately. He was still staring at you, lost in his fascination.

The agony that surged through you was relentless, but it wasn’t just the pain. It was the power—the uncontrollable, thrumming force within you—that began to pulse and crackle. With each wave of pain, it grew stronger, more erratic. You could feel it tearing at the very edges of your control, threatening to break free entirely. The walls around you trembled, the ancient stone groaning in protest as the Scriptorium seemed to quake, the ceiling cracking and fragments of stone tumbling down in a cascade of debris.

Ominis’ heart clenched as he felt the vibrations in the air, the magic spiralling dangerously out of control. “Look for the way out!” he barked at Sebastian, his voice strained and urgent. “Now! We don’t have much time!”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he moved with a speed born from desperation, his hands tightening on your arms as he pulled you into his grasp. You were so light in his arms, but the weight of the moment was crushing. Without a second thought, Ominis positioned you on his back, your weakened form slumped against him as he gripped his wand tightly, his only source of light in the chaos.

The Scriptorium was collapsing around them, the ancient wood of the bookshelves groaning and splintering as the power in the air surged higher. But Ominis didn’t hesitate. He focused on getting you out—away from here—and as he moved, the path forward became clearer in his mind, his senses sharp despite the madness surrounding them.

The rumble of the Scriptorium’s destruction echoed in his ears as he forced his body to move, your frail form on his back a reminder of everything he was trying to protect. “Hold on,” he whispered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if you could even hear him. His mind raced, calculating every movement, every step.

But the world around them was a blur—flickering light, debris, crumbling stone—and Ominis couldn’t afford to look back. Not yet.

====================================

Taglist (never done this before oh?):

@preeyas-world

#no beta we die like professor fig #hogwarts legacy #ominis #ominis gaunt #gaunt #sebastian sallow #sallow #sebastian #fanfiction #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts #my beta is chatgpt #slytherin x reader angst #angst #reader insert

54 notes · View notes