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#Fragi
aimaileafy · 1 year
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Cover Artworks for the Aeterniem Chronicles
Somehow very experimental, but I am still fond of these ♥
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joanofarcisdead · 1 year
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long haired bottle blond gerard with their natural dark eyebrows does something to me and i fear it says more about my own human failures and follies than it says anything about gerard
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curejiraiya · 10 months
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Duck-core
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podsting this with no comment
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demobatman · 1 year
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get that DAMN WOLFHARD INTERVIEW OFF MY DASH ‼️‼️‼️
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littleplantfreak · 28 days
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mari!! how abouttt 1 + 24 + 30? I also want to know how your brownies came out :3
what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?
My grandfather! He raised me a lot until I was about 7 or 8ish before he died. I like to think I look more like him than either of my parents esp when I smile.
Books I guess? I’ve read and read some more ever since I learned on the leap pad thing from the leap frog kids toys, poking words and letters with the little pen to hear and learn how things were said and spelt. Books were a big escape for me when I had nothing else
My siblings. I revolve a decent chunk of my life around them even though they’re older now, but I’m starting to feel less mom and more older sister which is great.
24. What’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?
Sticking to my running/jogging since march! I can go for about 6 miles if I really push myself now. My body prefers 5 tho lol or I’ll get a migraine
30. what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?
Traveling! Even to just events, I wanna go everywhere if I can. The goal in 2 years is Italy since I’ve only been out of the country once and my sister wants to go there.
The brownies turned out great btw! light and fluffy and chewy just how i like it!
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hedonicghost · 4 months
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Idk about fragie but on pain of death is definitely lore
Fragie in this scenario is Riker.
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Heirloom (Part 3) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut
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Outline: Weeks after your arranged wedding, you and Ominis have a few things to confess to each other…
Word count: 3’925
Warnings: arranged marriage, panic attack, (unwanted) pregnancy and explicit smut.
(( Part 1 - Bloodline )) - (( Part 2 - Please )) - (( Masterlist ))
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The living room was plunged in darkness, the old clock ticking on top of the chimney, where a slightly outdated portrait of the Gaunts hung, each member coldly keeping an eye on the manor. You walked in, nervously playing with your hands as you approached the green velvet sofa facing the fireplace, finding Ominis lying down on it, his blond hair in a mess gainst his pillow and his tie losened.
You felt bad for waking him at such a late hour of the night but you had spent the past few hours after dining together hoping he would join you in his bedroom but it seemed tonight - like every other night - he had preferred the sofa instead of sharing a bed with you. Of course, you wanted to respect his boundaries and his privacy. You knew that Ominis had married you out of the goodness of his heart, because he was your friend and wanted to save you from a far more tragic fate, not because he felt anything more than friendship towards you and, although you had engaged in marital duties twice since your wedding night, his stubbornness to sleep in the living room made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t planning on it happening again…
“Ominis.” You called, softly, as you gently brushed a strand of pale blond hair away from his forehead.
You didn’t expect him to jump, startled by the intrusion despite your gentleness. He immediately sat up, his pale eyes shooting open in panic.
“It’s me.” You told him, to reassure him and it seemed to worked, his body immediately relaxing as he recognized your voice.
“What’s the matter ? Is everything alright ?” He asked you, suddenly worried.
“Yes… Or maybe not, actually.” You replied, hesitantly. You looked over your shoulder to the portrait of his family, watching you with cold stares and haughty faces. “Can we talk… In private ?”
“Of course.” He nodded, getting up from the couch to follow you out of the living room. You went upstairs, down the dark corridor that led to your bedroom - his bedroom - out of habit, it was the only place in the manor where you truly felt safe, no portraits or house elves to spy on you.
He closed the door after himself and you began to nervously pace around the room, unsure of what to say. You had tried to talk to him all day long with no avail, not that he didn’t listen, you always had his full attention whenever you opened your mouth to speak. It just that you were terrified of his reaction and the effect it might have on your marriage.
“It’s terrible, Ominis.” You warned him, still walking around the room as he stood still by the door, his head following the sound of your footsteps on the creaking floor. “I’m so sorry, you can’t imagine how bad I feel, I never meant for this to happen.”
“Now you’re scaring me, darling.” He said, worry in his tone and etched on his face. “What is going on ?”
“I don’t want to hurt or upset you, I really am so sorry…” you continued, heart racing and chest heaving in panic.
“I could never be mad at you.” He stated, as if the very idea of it didn’t make any sense to him. “Whatever it is, you can trust me, I can hear it…”
“Oh no, Ominis, you’re going to be mad. Furious even. And you’ll hate me.” You assured him, as tears began rolling down your cheeks. You gasped as you felt his hand on your wrist, gripping you tightly to stop your frenetic pacing of the room. He pulled you closer, forcing you to look at him, which made it even worse. How were you supposed to tell him such a tragic news when you were certain to see the disappointment and anger on his face in reaction ? Your best friend had been nothing but kind to you and you had betrayed him, how could he forgive you ? And with such a wound in your still fragile marriage, how could he ever love you afterwards ?
Because that was the worse of it all, the idea that he’d never love you as much as you loved him. He was a loyal friend who had sacrificed his future for your sake, agreed to be married to you for the rest of his life so that you wouldn’t have to be with his brother and you had had the audacity to believe that, with time, his feelings for you might evolve into something more than friendship, especially when he had agreed to be intimate with you, not once but twice… But the doubt always subsided; did he do this only because he was a good friend who couldn’t refuse you anything you demanded ?
That question had been haunting you for days, keeping you awake on most nights as you tortured yourself with the guilt you felt for forcing him in an arranged marriage and for wanting him to love you back so desperately.
But it didn’t matter anymore, anyway. Not with the unforgivable betrayal you were about to confess to him.
“I can assure you, darling, there’s nothing you could do that could make me hate you… So please, tell me what it is all about.”
You looked at his handsome face, his angel-like features and the worry he felt, so visible in his absent stare. You knew that you were going to ruin everything between the two of you and it broke your heart. The pain you felt in your chest felt like the stabbing of a burning knife, keeping you from breathing properly. You gasped for air but the bedroom suddenly seemed devoid of any, the sobs stuck in your throat making it even harder to fill your lungs. You started panting desperately, your body trembling. You were going to die, you were sure of that.
Ominis reached out to hold your other hand in his and guided you to his bed, making you sit down on the satin sheet as he took place next to you, his grip tightening on your hand. You felt his fingers gently brushing off some of the tears streaming down your face but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. You held his hand and gripped his arm with the other, digging your nails into his skin as you suffocated in panic. You felt lightheaded, as if you were about to faint and at this point, it almost felt like a welcomed reprieve…
Suddenly, you felt your new husband’s lips press on yours, interrupting the flow of your desperate gasps for air. It was a gentle kiss that only lasted a few seconds and, as soon as he moved away, you took a deep inhale, your lungs finally filling up with the air they so miserably craved.
“My apologies, I didn’t know what else to do to help.” Ominis said, as he wiped some tears away from your cheeks once more, before brushing your hair out of your face. You couldn’t deny that it had worked wonders, your breathing slowing down and your heart beating more steadily. “Now please, tell me what happened.”
“I have reasons to believe that…” you started, taking a break to inhale once more, nervously staring back at his pale eyes. “I might be pregnant.”
“Ah.” was all that he said. You searched his face for a reaction, some kind of emotion but he stayed impassive, blankly looking in your direction.
More tears escaped your eyes. It was the end of your friendship. The end of your marriage. The end of everything.
“I’m so sorry, Ominis. I really didn’t mean for it to happen, I know you wanted your bloodline to end with you.” You told him, your words interrupted by sobs. “I never meant to betray your trust like this…”
The sound of your cries seemed to knock him out of his shock, both of his hands reaching out to cup your face.
“Please, calm down. I cannot bear to hear you cry.” He said, his voice soft and warm despite the terrible news you had just shared with him. His touch was impossibly gentle as he placed another soft kiss on your lips, probably just to ensure you wouldn’t suffocate in panic once again. “It’s not your fault, I’m the one who’s been imprudent, I should have been more careful, it’s just that you are so… Perfect. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Then don’t hate me, please.”
“Never.” He stated, without hesitation. He silenced one of your sobs with another kiss, pulling you into a hug. You closed your eyes in his embrace, feeling relived that you had told him the secret you had been keeping for days, although you still couldn’t imagine him being anything other than angry because of it. Yet, he showed no sign of being upset - or feeling anything, really - focused on kissing you each time a cry got stuck in your throat.
As time went by, you ended up lying down on the bed, your head resting on the soft pillow and your body relaxing into the mattress, an exhaustion you had never felt before taking over you. Ominis stayed close, lying next to you with his arm resting over your body, some sloppy kisses shared as his hand slowly started wandering under your nightgown.
You weren’t sure how it had came to this, how could he still want to touch you knowing that you may be growing his heir in your belly ? How could he be so calm about it all when he had made it clear that it was the one thing he didn’t want to happen ? However, one thing you knew was that you had no intention of stopping him. Especially if the bold way his fingers were exploring your body was meant as a last moment of weakness before never speaking to you again.
He squeezed your breast between his fingers, probably noticing as well as you did how much more tender your flesh was compared to usual. You gasped as he pinched your unusually sensitive nipple, which had turned a few shades darker in the last few days. He apologized for his roughness by placing a wet kiss on your lips, before moving his mouth to the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with burning kisses.
You closed your arms around his shoulders, holding him close for a moment before moving to switch positions, straddling his legs as his head fell back on the pillow. His chest was heaving rapidly when you popped the buttons of his shirt open one by one, revealing the pale skin of his chest. You gently caressed your way down to his trousers, working on the buttons down there while his hands slowly caressed their way up your legs and thighs.
Once you were able to free his erection out of his pants, it stood gloriously straight up and hard in front of you, the soft pink tip glistening with his arousal. You gave it a few stroke with your hand, watching as he closed his eyes and opened his mouth in reaction, breathing heavily. You couldn’t think of anything more gratifying than seeing him like this, enjoying himself, because of you.
You tugged your nightgown up as you moved and gently lowered yourself on him, feeling his erection easily sliding inside you, stretching out your entrance and pushing past your walls until you could be fully seated on top of him.
“We shouldn’t.” Ominis breathed, his face clearly saying the opposite.
“I’m not sure it matters anymore.” You replied, instinctively placing a hand on your stomach. He groaned as his tip hit the deepest part of you and you left out a quiet whimper, loving how he filled you up so perfectly.
His hands flew to your hips, his fingers digging in your flesh as he guided you off him in an upwards motion. You believed he wanted you to get off of him for a moment, until he pulled you back down onto him with strength, causing his cock to slam inside you.
You pushed on your knees to repeat the same motion over and over again, following the pace he set, feeling an intense pleasure already building inside you.
“Goodness, I love you.” He breathed, eyes shut, head in a daze.
“What ?” You stopped yourself, sitting down on him, wanting to make sure you had heard him correctly before allowing your heart to burst with joy.
His eyes shot open, his expression mortified. You stared at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, and you could almost see the gears in his mind turning trying to come up with a proper explanation.
“I guess there’s no point keeping it a secret, we’re supposed to spend a lifetime together after all.” He admitted, carefully chosing his words as his cheeks turned pink. “So you might as well know that I love you. I’ve been intrigued by you from the moment we met, I’m not sure when my feelings turned into… something more, but I do know that my love for you is unconditional and irrevocable.”
It was your turn to be frozen in a shocked daze after hearing his confession, unsure of what to say or how to react. Earlier, you were convinced that he was going to detest you for the rest of your lives so such a turn in the situation was confusing and unexpected to say the least.
“Of course I do not expect anything from you, I’ve always known my feelings were unrequited and it is fine by me if it remains that way, I just thought that you ought to know…”
“Unrequited ?” You repeated, astonished. “Ominis, I’ve had feelings for you for years !”
“You… Really ?”
“Absolutely ! But you’ve always been so cold and distant even as a friend, I certainly didn’t think you felt anything for me.”
“Well, it seems we’ve been quite foolish to not talk about this sooner then.” He stated, still so serious while you left out a happy giggle. You leaned forward to kiss him, feeling his arms coming around you to hold you close.
You slowly started moving again, foreheads pressed against each other, his warm breath caressing your face with each of the low grunts of pleasure that came out of his mouth in reaction to the way you were swaying your hips on top of him. It felt even better this way, the short circular movements allowing you to feel his entire length and full girth inside you, exquisitely moving back and forth.
You weren’t that far from climaxing when he thrusted his hips upwards under you, adding more pressure to your tantalizing moves, making you cry out as the bubble of pleasure at your core imploded and your whole body was submerged with bliss. You heard him groan as he came too, fully releasing himself inside you as the consequences no longer mattered, his fingers still digging into your hips so strongly that it almost felt painful.
You collapsed on top of him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he attempted to recover from the intensity of his pleasure. You were already partly asleep in his arms, feeling blissfully safe and comfortable, when he turned over to get his satisfied cock out of you, before pulling the covers over your body and planting a final soft kiss on your lips.
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You woke up as the morning rays of sunshine illuminated the bedroom, your head still swimming in bliss despite the soreness of your body. You turned to your side, to avoid facing the bright sunlight and to snuggle up against Ominis but, as you outstretched your hand to the other side of the bed, you didn’t find anyone else between the sheets.
A noise almost startled you, forcing your eyes open. You rubbed them a few times, struggling to sit up on the mattress as you found a shirtless Ominis, filling a heavy looking suitcase with various items from his bedroom. It took you a moment to realize what he was up to, but when you did, your heart sank in your chest.
“Are you leaving ?” You asked him, your voice breaking the silence of the bedroom, making him freeze in place. He threw a few more books inside the trunk before turning around to face in your direction.
“We are leaving.” He replied, approaching the bed.
A wave of relief hit you, happy that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you. A man who didn’t want to have kids would have fled during the night without looking back but Ominis was a gentleman, and he wasn’t just any man, he was your husband.
“And where are we going ?” You asked, as he sat down on the bed and you leaned to kiss his cheek, making him smile.
“Wherever you want to go, darling, as long as it is somewhere our families won’t find us.”
“So you’re planning on running away ?” You knew he had thought about it many times before, leaving without looking back so that he could be free from his family and no longer carry the burden of being a Gaunt. You often felt guilty about it, imagining that he would have done it after graduation if it weren’t for you and your arranged marriage to a Gaunt, leaving him no choice but to stay to make sure you wouldn’t be a victim of his family’s famous cruelty…
“It’s about time I do.” He stated, holding your hand tightly in his. “With all my savings and the few precious items I own, we should be able to live comfortably, far away from here.”
“And what about… The baby ?” You inquired, almost in a whisper. You hadn’t talked about it since you had dropped the news and you felt somewhat worried of his reaction if you reminded him about it…
“The baby won’t lack anything, neither will you. We’ll settle down somewhere comfortable and my family will never know of his existence. Our children will be safe.”
Your heart warmed at his words, joy bursting out of you in a stream of happy tears. The plan was perfect, there was nothing you wanted more than to disappear from society, be free from your families’ expectations and live a simple life, with the man you loved… And the babies you may be blessed with.
“I packed what I thought useful but I’ll leave it to your care to chose the outfits you’d like to take along.” He explained, standing up from the bed to get back to his task because he knew he was so easily distracted whenever he started touching and kissing you. “I have a few items to fetch from my father’s office. Then, we can leave whenever you are ready.”
You agreed and he placed a tender kiss on your forehead before leaving the bedroom. You stretched and got up, freshening up and getting dressed before opening the wardrobe’s doors wide and surveying each of your pieces of clothing one by one.
Once you were done choosing the most practical and appropriate outfits you owned, you giddily left the bedroom to go downstairs where you believed Ominis would be waiting for you. But instead of finding him excitedly waiting for you in the hallway, with all your and his belongings packed up, the first silhouette you saw wasn’t his and your heart jumped. You hurried downstairs to stand by Ominis’ side, straightening up although Marvolo’s cold and twisted gaze always made you feel in danger.
“I see you and your wife are about to leave on a little vacation, a honeymoon perhaps ?” The oldest Gaunt stated, his eyes on the luggage waiting by the door. “I’m sure mother and father would love to know where you are going.”
“Don’t worry about it, they know.” Ominis lied, his tone cold, as his arm protectively came around your waist, pulling you against his body.
“Do they ? Mother seemed pretty determined to keep you both locked up in here until your wife produced an heir… Unless ?” His deranged eyes dropped to your belly which you couldn’t help but cover with your hand in reaction, as if you could protect your unborn child from his abominable uncle that way.
“This family won’t get an heir from me. Not now and not ever.” Your husband declared, but you clearly noticed he wasn’t as determined as he used to be about it.
“It’s fine by me.” Marvolo shrugged, his gaze still on you but clearly focused on something else now. “All that matters to me is that you give me back what belongs to me.”
“Such as ?”
“Such as the precious ring on your wife’s finger.”
“Father gave me this heirloom as a present for the wedding and I gave it to her.”
“It should have been mine, I’m the eldest son.”
“Father knew that you wouldn’t take care of it properly, that’s why he gave it to me. What do you want that ring for, anyway ? Pay up a gambling debt ?”
You noticed how tensed Ominis’ body was against you, his hand ready to grab his wand to defend himself against his brother. You saw a sadistic smile appear on Marvolo’s lips and sure enough, he pointed his wand at both of you, Ominis pulling his out as soon as he heard the familiar noise.
“I won’t let you steal it from my wife.” Ominis said, determined.
“And I won’t let you leave with it so it seems there might be an issue here.” Marvolo retorted.
“It’s alright, you can have it !” You interrupted , pulling the ring off. “But you have to let us go and not tell your parents about it.”
Marvolo seemed amused by your request, maybe because you had gave in more easily than he had expected but you didn’t want to see them duel each other over a ring, as pretty and special as it looked.
“Deal.”
Ominis sighed as you took a few prudent steps towards his brother, placing the golden ring and its black gem in the palm of his hand. He didn’t thank you but smiled at you in a way that caused a cold shiver to run down your spine. He slowly closed his fingers over the ring and walked away, the tension still subsiding in the atmosphere.
“Let’s hurry up.” Ominis finally said, grabbing the suitcases and your hand and guiding you out of the imposing Gaunt Manor. He looked worried, your escape suddenly more rushed than planned.
“Do you not trust Marvolo to keep his word ?” You asked him, trying to follow his large footsteps in direction of the iron gates of the propriety.
“I don’t trust Marvolo for anything.”
The morning was cold and quiet as you followed your husband into the unknown, hopeful to make it far away from his family and yours before anyone was alerted of your unexpected travel plans. You felt nervous about it, but at least there was one thing you knew for sure; as long as you were with him, then you had everything you could possibly need.
“Ominis ?” You called, softly, making his head turn in your direction to show that you had his full attention. “I love you.”
A smile illuminated his face despite his apparent apprehension and his zeal to get as far away from his family’s manor as possible, his face momentarily softened as he squeezed your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the mark that his heirloom had left on your finger.
“And I love you more.”
(( Masterlist ))
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Previously in the series;
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lunentity · 5 months
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𓉸♰ doll / puppet names & pronouns ₊ ˚ ⊹ 🎭
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꒰ names ﹕ mariolle. dollian. figurina. celaine. dorothea. annequin. myme. puppette.
꒰ pronouns ﹕ doll / dolls. toy / toys. frai / frail. lace / laces. plu / plush. che / cherish . bow / bows. fri / frill. char / charm. fragi / fragile. cu / cute.
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✧﹒ notes ⊰ bolded names are names i use as well.
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marigold-hills · 3 months
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june 29: blooming and June 30: camper | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 1009
PREVIOUS PART • FIRST PART
June, some years later.
There are lines in the stones like fingerprints, swirling into a pattern too ancient to be understood. Something carved into it, unique to it and yet connecting it with countless others just like it.
You are you, but you are of us.
Remus is cataloguing the lines, tracing them onto parchment. He stands in a bloom of flowers, careful around the blossoms not to trample them but helpless to do just that, the stone unreachable on any beaten track.
It’s the third day of their, Remus and Sirius’, stay in Brú na Bóinne. The land cradled into the arm of the river had welcomed them with unusual heat, cessation of the hostile rain which has been battering it for the previous month, and an explosion of greenery. As if the land knew: a man comes and he is a part of us, and here to study us. Show him the best parts.
Sirius can understand. He’s no stranger to making himself pretty to get his Moony’s approval.
It’s been long in the making, this trip of theirs. Endless research proposals and grant applications that Remus had to submit, then even more scrutiny on account of his status. Then, oxymoronically, a back and forth on Sirius’ involvement: a highly trained curse breaker to oversee “the werewolf professor” was welcome, but another pair of hands and eyes and feet at the sacred prehistoric site was most definitely not.
Still, somehow, it worked. They had jumped in their camper van and set out for Ireland.
“Time for lunch, Moons!” Sirius calls from under the canopy they’ve set up next to the van.
Remus, loose sleeves of a linen shirt folded to show his arms, leather suspenders holding up his trousers, looks like an academic wet dream. His hair has grown out a bit recently and now the curls fall softly over his forehead.
“You’ve forgotten your hat again,” Sirius admonishes when he gets under the canopy they set up by the van, two chairs and a small table set up with bread and cheeses. “It’s too hot for you to go around without cover.”
“Stop fussing,” Remus bats his hand away, “I’m fine.”
“My one purpose here is to take care of you. I have paperwork to show for it. Want to see? No? So let me do my job,” Sirius grins as they sit to eat.
“You’re enjoying this way too much, love. And don’t pretend like you need paperwork to be a fusspot. Never stopped you before.”
“Got me there.”
Sirius pulls a bottle of white wine from the enchanted cooler by his feet, summons two glasses.
“Drinking on the job?” Remus raises an eyebrow in mock outrage, “how scandalous.”
“You know me, always ready to bend the rules.”
Remus hummus happily and plucks away at the assortment of cheeses. The wine is crisp, faintly tasting of apricot. The grass around them is blooming daisies, the scent fresh. Sirius puts his hair up with his wand.
“I’ll never forget that you came here with me,” Remus says with a far away vice. “I’m so thankful to have you by my side. This… you know how much of a dream this has been.”
“Hold onto that thought, darling, please,” Sirius says, standing up. He was worried how to steer the conversation and here is his Moony, providing the perfect segue.
The cord is in a neat little package in his pocket, so he pulls it out and sets in front of Remus, by the plate of cheese and the bowl of olives.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Remus does. It takes a moment, Sirius can see, for it to register, then he touches the cord with reverent, shaky fingers. “Really?” He asks, like it’s a surprise, like he doesn’t know the extent of Sirius’ devotion to him, to them.
“You don’t have to say yes straight away. It’s the anniversary today, of when you waited for me, and I will wait for you as long as it takes. But I’m ready. So if you’ll have me…”
“My love. My star,” Remus stands up, holding onto the cord so tightly his knuckles turn white. “Yes. Yes now and yes forever.”
And Sirius was pretty sure, but still… hearing the response breaks something fragile inside of him right open. “Really?”
“Of course. Always. Mo réalta,” Remus holds his face between shaky hands, cord still in between fingers, “you are the most important part of my life.”
***
They have the ceremony the same evening, just the two of them. Barefoot, standing ankle-deep in the waters of the Bóinne. It’s cool, calm. Laps at their skin like an embrace or like a welcoming.
The sun has set. The crickets are singing. Sirius had enchanted lanterns to float around them, and disillusioned the area against wandering muggles.
Their left hands are clasped, fingers intertwined.
There are tears in Remus’ eyes as he speaks. His accent more pronounced with the emotion.
“Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done.”
He wraps his end of the cord around their joint hands. Sirius can feel the bond blossoming, blooming through him like molten honey. He responds.
“You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone.” The incantation sounds different in his southern english voice, but he can feel it working nonetheless, a link between himself and Remus, between the both of them and the Irish soil. “I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, till our life shall be done.”
The cord glows a soft gold when Sirius finishes wrapping up his end. They reach their right hands across, over the joining, and the cord tightens and dissolves. Sirius can feel it just the same, over his hand and over his heart.
“Mine, now,” his Moony says, closing the distance between them.
“Always.”
He kisses him under the waxing moon.
NOTES
I cried
decided to put the last two into one epilogue because breaking them up just didn’t seem right
thank you SO MUCH to everyone that followed, and especially: @hoje--aqui @moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash and @sweetstarryskies you guys are the absolute best and properly fuelled the writing for this one with all the lovely comments. I honestly did not expect such a lovely response when I decided to start this project so it was just heart warming :):) thank you
as it turns out I’ve been doing tagging wrong (showing my age here) so if anyone has asked to be tagged and wasn’t I’m very sorry
Read on AO3 here
for the last time:
@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll
@hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi @gipitothefrog
@shamelesswolfstarshipper @a-pine-cone @cosmicweeds @cocoabutterandbooks
@bloodoffire @residentdisaster @shamelesswolfstarshipper @ravenwordss
@prancingpony42 @themoonlovesthestars @starving-marauder-lover @weirdtinkerbellversion
@deadcupcakehere @theprettieststarfr @dumbass-gryffindor1960
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666writingcafe · 5 months
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Level Two
Dedicated to @ehejhrhrhrht-blog
Content Warning/Summary: MC literally gets thrown, Beel acts like a predator, biting
Your next session is in the twins' room. Prepare for a crash landing.
If I was a rational human being, I would have stopped the test after passing the first stage. The fact that I managed to resist one of the oldest demons in existence should be more than enough for me to get rewarded the star of chastity. I could have put this whole thing behind me and relaxed the rest of the evening.
But I tend to get tunnel vision when it comes to completing tasks. Even if I get incredibly frustrated, I hate stopping before I'm finished with something. I want to see it through to the end. It helps boost my confidence.
And so this silly little lamb walks up the stairs and stops in front of the door leading to the twins' bedroom.
Out of mere habit, I knock on the door. There have been too many incidents of me stumbling into something that I wasn't meant to see for me not to. Usually, there's some sort of response. Either "come in" or "Give me a minute" or even "I'm busy".
Not this time. Instead, I get radio silence.
Is it too late to back out? Surely, they'd understand me getting cold feet, right?
Don't be a coward. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?
Despite knowing that hardly anything good comes out of that question, I find myself opening the bedroom door. The next few seconds go by in a blur as I'm yanked up off the ground and sent flying across the room. As soon as my back hits the headboard of the the bed, I'm caged in by a body towering over me.
"I could eat you right now." Judging by the ravenous look in Beel's eyes, I think he means that literally. And not in a sexy way, either.
"Please don't." I feel stupid saying that, but it slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Beel chuckles, sounding harsher than usual.
"Well, of course not, MC. That would ruin half the fun." He forcibly tilts my head and licks down the side of my neck before biting down on it. Hard. I cry out in pain, but he ignores me as he begins sucking.
A warm feeling courses through my body, and it takes a lot of willpower for me to not allow it to control me. I have to look for an opening, and quickly.
Thankfully, one arrives when Beel lets go of me and begins repositioning himself, creating just enough space for me to roll off the bed.
"Playing hard to get, are we?" he asks, smiling menacingly at me. "I've always enjoyed a good hunt."
I nearly leap off to the side as Beel launches himself at me. His disorientation from hitting the wall is brief, but it's enough time for me to run over to Belphie's side of the room.
Something tells me that in order to pass this level, I have to find the note myself. I can't just ask Beel to hand it to me; that'd be too easy. I begin looking through Belphie's things, occasionally pausing to throw things at Beel to slow his progress.
My search turns up nothing. I stop moving momentarily as I think about where else the note might be, and Beel seizes his opportunity. Picking me up, he nearly slams me against the wall, once again pinning me in place with his body.
"Got you," he growls, resuming his attack on my neck. My hands grab wrap around his waist in an attempt to remain upright, and I feel something brush against my side.
Of course. His jacket.
One pocket contains a bunch of hard candy. I have more success with the other. Plucking the note out of it, I let go of him, allowing myself to side down to the floor.
Beel's eyes flicker towards the note I'm holding, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he steps back.
"Thank goodness," he murmurs. "I wasn't sure how much more you'd be able to take." He kneels down in front of me, still keeping his distance. "You had no idea how shocked I was when Asmo told me about this particular daydream of yours. I used to act animalistic in order to scare people, not to attract them." I shrug.
"I think it stems from me wishing that you wouldn't view me as being fragile," I explain. "I know that by being human, that makes me weaker than demons and angels, but that doesn't mean that I don't have any strength. I'm not going to shatter into a million pieces if you want to act more roughly towards me from time to time." He sighs again, sounding more weary this time.
"I know. You're one of the strongest people I know. I just don't want to do anything to permanently hurt you. You mean too much to me for me to do that with a clear conscience." He gets up off the floor and walks over to his bed, opening one of his bedside drawers and pulling out a bag of chips and a bottle of water.
"Here," he states, returning over to me and handing the items over to me before starting to pick up the mess I made on Belphie's side of the room.
"Do you need any help?" I ask.
"I got it, MC. Just focus on recovering."
62 notes · View notes
moonacrefarm · 7 months
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anticipating love
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summary: your parents marriage didn’t survive the test of time and neither did you first love. 
contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n
authors note: so...uh, here it is :D
series masterlist
next part | 02. never hesitating
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01. watching, i keep waiting
It felt like clockwork. An annual phone call from your estranged father, asking for a few life updates before awkwardly ending the call. This time, the silence hung in the air longer than the usual three minutes, a quiet hesitation you stuck around for.
Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was known for being a stickler for the rules; strict and to the point. He wasn't a natural-made family man; your mom accused him of hiding in his work and neglecting his duties as a husband and father. It was the last argument they had before she stuffed you in the backseat of her car.
They hadn't seen each other since.
However, this time, the anxiety could be felt through the phone, "Dad? Is there something else you need?" You inquired.
He sighed, "How… How's your mother?" The edge that settled in his voice finally clicked. He knew. A few deep breaths later and you gathered the strength to speak.
"She's…getting better. The doctor said there's hope." Silence followed again. It felt as if time slowed before he spoke again, “There’s a doctor here in San Diego who can treat her. We never divorced so… if she wants to I can…” He went quiet for a moment. “I know the move would be taxing but you guys would be closer to family and—”
“I'm not sure if she would want that, dad.” You spoke softly, gently cutting him short. “I've tried to convince her to take the recommendation, but…you have to speak to her.” Further silence followed. You could almost hear his heart hammering over the phone.
Your parent's relationship was a mystery to you. They’d never divorced but you were uprooted and planted halfway across the country when they separated. Your father didn’t fight and your mom didn’t have it in her to keep up with him. He’d prioritized his career over his family, and you knew he regretted it following your and your mother's departure.
Sure, you’d seen him sparsely throughout the years, receiving birthday gifts and visiting for holidays, but the damage had been done.
"Alright. You're right. I'll try to talk to her as well." He conceded. You didn't respond, whispering a soft goodbye before pivoting towards the window.
Observing as your mother tended to her garden, humming along with the radio. You had made a home in Virginia, but was it home? Both of your mother’s and father’s families were on the West Coast and the state held bitter memories after a failed engagement.
She'd always been stubborn, and while you weren't your father's advocate, you couldn't lose her. You understood this was her best option, yet she refused to take it.
It felt like days they spent speaking over the phone. Your father fighting tooth and nail to match your mother.
“You can’t honestly expect me to move halfway across the country for a maybe.” She spat. You couldn’t hear your father’s response but whatever he said softened her, wilting as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at you. “Fine. We’ll see you then.” Her shoulders slumped as she made her way towards you, plopping on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder.
“Pack your swimsuit. We’re going home.”
Phone calls had been made, flights booked, boxes shipped and suddenly you were standing in your childhood room. Not much had changed, except for the piled-up boxes that had been pushed into the corner. Memories hung around like outdated decor, a bitter taste filling your mouth.
A light knock jerked you out of your stupor.
“I didn’t know what to do…so I left it as it was.”Your father stood at the door. His frame taking up most of the space.
You inhaled a shaky breath, “Do you think it will work?” The fragility in your voice was noticeable as he inspected your face with a crease in his brows, lips pursed. “I hope so.”
Not much else was said as you continued to unpack. Mentally running through your to-do list for the next month and a half. Your mom had a doctor's appointment set for next week, and all you could hope for was promising news in the meantime.
Your mother's illness put a hiatus on your life. Her diagnosis turned your axis on its head; stability gone in a wink. Now you were unsure. Unsure of your future, of time, of her future. You decided to take time off of work and dip into your savings, this move wouldn’t strain you. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find a job near base, hopefully in some clinic. You couldn’t focus on patients when you’d see your mother in everyone. Time lost in your career wouldn’t compare to the time you valued with your mother.
While strolling through the house, you noticed your old family photos hadn’t been moved. Not a speck of dust to be seen in the home as you glanced at your parents in the living room. The tension was easy to notice. It permeated the air and left a heavy feeling in your lungs.
Words were waiting to be said you didn't want to be around for the aftermath. Not only to spare yourself from the debris of their approaching fight but also to give yourself the freedom to reset. Your emotional turmoil was eating you alive you needed some time to breathe.
“I’m gonna go visit Penny, she said to head down the bar once we were settled.” A swift kiss on your mother's cheek while she murmured, “Send her my regards.”
San Diego was a time capsule, the neighborhoods aging while the city was ever-changing. Familiar streets diverging off to ones you didn’t recognize. It’d only been a few years since you’d last come down and somehow that was enough time to reinvent the city.
Hard Deck itself had seemed the same, the amiable environment and ocean breeze skimming your cheeks. You’d arrived before the pub opened, approaching with excitement and allowing the bell to signal your arrival.
“Here I thought you were gonna stand me up?” Penny glanced over you with shining eyes, “Looks like at least oneSimpson can keep a promise.” A grin filled her face as she embraced you, her hug providing the warmth and consolation you needed after a massive move. “Where’s your mother?”
“Having it out with my dad” She winced.
“No wonder you got here before the bar opened.” You two shared a knowing look. You knew Penny had questions. Your mother was private about her sickness and never disclosed details. She even attempted to keep things from you. “Mom is down to see a doctor who might be able to help. I don’t know how the hell dad convinced us to share a roof but here we are.” You shrugged, wrapping behind the bar for a waist-apron.
Penny understood, bouncing her head as she gave you a gentle smile, “She's a determined woman. I believe she'll beat its ass before it even thinks twice about getting her.”
A faint huff came out of your mouth, “You know, you’re not wrong…” Before you could continue, Penny chimed in.
“There's a reason they referred to her as Hurricane, not only to piss off your dad but being an admirals daughter made her tough. Hell, your grandfather could barely keep her in check. He said he could control your mother or do his job.”
Laughter filled the bar, resounding through the empty building. The two of you calmed down, and you nodded your head in mortification, arranging some of the spirits as she continued.
“Hey, there's a reason we call you a little spitfire. Your dad and your mom? Of course, they'd create a vixen.”
A delicate smile graced your face, "I missed you, Penny." You admitted, "And I you. It’s not every day I get to see my favorite niece.” She tapped your nose as she turned to clean the bar top.
“Penny, I’m your only niece.”
“Details, details..” She hitched a tub of glass cups on her hips, waving you off, “If you aren’t gonna get to work, I’m gonna have to throw you overboard. We got a boat docked today.” You giggled at your aunt’s antics, appreciating her ability to keep the conversation light.
Penny glimpsed at you curiously, “Have you talked to….anyone else since you got back?” You understood what she asking without having her clarify. “Just some family members.” She gave you the eye, “But no. Haven’t spoken to Bradley in eight years and counting.”
“I thought you guys reconciled after you both graduated?”
“Not really. We talked sure, but we hadn’t spoken between then and when we finally did, things went to shit.”
Penny bobbed her head in understanding. "Stick jockeys… the only thing that keeps them grounded is insubordination." A huff fell off your lips as you got busy moving between tables. The crowd came in all at once, hordes of uniforms tottering in, some with arm candy, others eyeing for arm candy. This kept you in constant motion; gathering up drinks, bringing refills, making cocktails, and dancing around the jukebox.
The throng kept you light-headed, and you were thankful for it.
Groups of locals, navy sailors, and aviators cheered, drank, and sang. You were grabbing a refill for someone at the bar as Penny flirted with someone who looked vaguely familiar; he flashed her a warm smile as you tried to place him.
The distraction was short-lived when you took a pool stick to the hip. Your tray tilting into the hands of an arrogant aviator, his grin cocksure as he glanced you up and down, “Sorry dove,” He started, restacking the glasses, “I didn’t—”
“Careful.” You warned. “Disrespect a lady and get the bell.” Your finger pointed as a mischievous smile graced your face, “I think a pool stick to the hip is reason enough, no?” Your hands had been itching all night to ring the bell, it’d be a while.
“What if I help you carry this tray of glasses to the bar and work on an apology for you?” His green eyes filled with mirth, both of you enjoying this small pissing match.
“Much obliged.” You dumped the tray in his unsuspecting hands and he stumbled to keep it upright. Some of his fellow aviators cheered you, amused by the exchange. You made your way behind the bar as he handed you the tray, “Sorry for sticking it ya...” He pondered off, massaging the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were behind me, I wouldn’t have gone so far back if I did.”
“To be fair, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“If I ask for refills would that ruin the apology?” He grins sheepishly.
You barked out a laugh, “What if I charge you double for your beers and consider it even?”
“Sold!”
He skimmed you over one more time. “Can I get your name on the side?” Silence fell between you two as you reached for the beers. He leaned on the bar, relaxing as he drew everyone's gaze towards him.
You let out a small laugh, deciding to toy with him a bit. "Callsign?" He knotted his brows together, "Hangman." You bobbed your head. "Top Gun graduate?" He nodded once again. You leaned in next to his ear, your voice quiet, "Piece of advice, Lieutenant….” You glanced into his eyes, whispering, “You might not want to hit on the daughter of the vice-admiral."
You didn't typically pull out your dad's rank, but this time it was worth it. His mug slipped, paling slightly. "They call me little Simpson. But hush,” You dragged a finger over your lips, “This is a secret between you and me.” You gave a small smirk. "Here are your beers sir," He didn't say another word as he toddled back towards his table, his crowd hollering at his stupefied disposition.
The sun had just started to set, disappearing behind the horizon and you called Penny for your break. You tucked away your apron as she took over, pumping cocktails and drinks out with ease. “I’m heading down to the shore for a bit, I missed California sunsets.”
“Remember, I need you back in 15!” She called after you, too occupied flirting.
The sand was warm and the breeze was gentle. Allowing yourself to unwind as you sit in the sand, resting your head on your knees, you listened to the hustle and bustle of the bar in back of you. Your aunt had run the bell and someone just got thrown overboard. You watched as the same aviator from before was one of the few that carried the old-timer out.
You still couldn’t place him but decided to let it go. You could ask Penny about it later.
A familiar tune of piano keys causes your spine to straighten. Nausea twisted itself in your stomach as goosebumps peppered your skin. You stood up, listening for his voice as he started singing, still incapable to believe it unless you see him.
You peeked, treading cautiously towards the window.
And there he was.
Sitting at the piano bench, singing the same song Carole hummed in the kitchen when she babysat you. His fingers danced on the keys as he commanded the room, bobbing his head as he sang. He had a fuller build, aviators sloped on his nose with an open Hawaiian shirt. The same one Carole said he could wear once he was old enough for it to fit him.
Dread spread through your limbs as time stalled. Penny would understand if you left now. You’d just have to run in and grab your things. You’d be gone before he noticed you.
The hesitation only worsened when he raised his eyes and that confidence was taken over by surprise. It was only a second but it was enough to jerk you into action. Descending into the crowd, you concealed yourself between bodies as you escaped towards the back to grab your keys.
The song wasn’t quite finished yet. He kept up his performance and you didn’t have it in you to match him today. “Penny—”
“Go. I know now isn’t the time.” You embraced her tightly, swearing to drop by tomorrow and complete your shift, but right now you needed to go, and having a face-off with the man who broke your heart isn’t what you needed. Maybe later, but not now, it would be too much.
The air hit your flushed cheeks, catching your breath from the sudden intrusion. You glanced up one more time before trekking to your car, watching him bask in the ambiance of the crowd cheering him on, arms spread out to take in the energy. It didn’t last long before his gaze set itself on you, making his way through the crowd with a smile. Anyone would miss it, but you weren’t anyone. His face was tight and he walked stiffer than his usual gait.
You hadn’t seen Bradley Bradshaw since you were 26, and before that, since you were 18. You’d been raised together since you could remember.
It was now or never, you could spilt at the last moment and very evidently run or you could hesitate and let him catch up to you.
Whatever options you had evaporated as the door opened. It moved slowly, and you held your breath.
In that moment you felt foolish, why did you need to hide? He was the one that left you that morning. He was the one that didn’t answer your phone calls and refused to reach out. Outrage simmered in your throat as you felt it flush in your ears. Why hide when you could bury the hatchet here and let him have it?
He slowed as he got nearer as if he could never reach you no matter how far or fast he walked. He dangled his aviators on the neck of his tank, gathering himself. His gaze followed you up and down, leaving a burn wherever you felt his stare.
“Bradley ‘The Brave’ Bradshaw.” You spat.
He winced narrowly at your tone. Wonder steeling his bones as he was rendered speechless.
“How was the last…what? Decade? It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen you. Phew time just flies. Doesn’t it?” You folded your arms over your chest, standing at attention as he just stared.
He didn't talk for a while. Breathing as he thought, chewing his bottom lip, just like he always did when he was unsure what to say.
“Good talk.” You headed for your car before he grasped your wrist, a gentle tug but one loaded with desperation. “I…” He paused again.
"Fuck, I don't know what to say." He rubbed his forehead, taking a swig of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have time to prepare a script and all." He motioned around, catching his failed attempt at a laugh.
"I'm sorry." He blurted. You both stood dumbfounded, just in surprise at each other's company. "I should've written, or texted, or emailed. I shouldn't have…." He trailed off as if shame carried his voice away.
“Oh wow. He thinks too. Isn't that convenient?” Your biting remark was followed by a snort, “Apology not accepted. It was shitty of you to leave me like that, knowing what was going on and deciding I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye Bradley.”
Tears lined your eyes as bitterness warmed you, “I thought I wouldn’t be so mad at you after all these years. Believed that if I ran right now I could put it behind me but no…the years we spent together meant nothing when you left like that.” Your voice hardened with your resolve.
His grasp slackened on your wrist, “Then why did you come back? Thought you would’ve had the wedding by now.” He cocked his head to the side, aggravating you in the process.
“No.” You spit the words out, “Called the engagement off when he said my mother’s illness wasn’t worth the trouble.” Bradley stood dumbstruck, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It wasn’t often Bradley lost his composure, he had to be able to keep his head on tight if he was flying a jet. In this moment, he felt ill. He didn’t even know.
“She’s…She’s sick?”
You puffed out air, understanding that while you may seething, Bradley still cared for your mother. She took him in when Carole passed and Pete left him with nothing but a dim future. As much as you hated him, you understood that hearing about your mother's illness hurt. He loved her like family and he didn’t have much of that left.
“Bye Bradley.” You shook him off as he trailed after you, this time a bit brisk.
“What do you mean she's sick? Is it a cold, is it the flu?” Panic rested in his eyes as he scrutinized at you. Scanning your face for answers.
Your eyes bore into the asphalt. “It’s stage four Bradley.” You said feebly, the topic weighing you down as if sandbags had been placed on your shoulders, “The doctor said there might be a chance but we don’t know yet.”
He stood rigid, processing this information as grief seized his throat. Squeezing tight until he could barely speak. “I-I didn’t know or else I would’ve…”
“Would’ve what? Finally, called? You cut me off and I made do with it, but my mother? She loved you like one of her own and you just left.”
He rubbed his face. Palms shielding his eyes as he took a few breaths in, “At the time, I couldn’t have stayed. You may not understand why but I couldn’t stay.”
“Or you just didn’t want to.” His eyes shot up towards you, “You know that isn’t why I left. You know damn well.”
“No, I don’t. I woke up the next morning with nothing but your old pair of aviators and some dog tags. The bed was cold and I was alone.” You both had a stare-off, clearly oblivious of what the other was thinking.
You just puffed and watch as Bradley stood there, in all his aviator glory, allowing the anger that filled your body to tide you in. Electricity pooled into your palms and you tried not to slap him, all you could process was that anger, just anger anger anger. It was all you had that wasn’t grief.
Whether he was here or not, it didn't matter. You were too cross to articulate any of it. Years of bottled emotions popping open before you could process them. Stillness suspended itself in the air again, gripping both of you by the neck.
“I need to go.” You said firmly, “I just… I can't handle you right now. Not now.”
Slipping into your car, you give him one last look. He was impassive, closing himself off so he didn’t have to process it.
It wasn’t your problem anyway, you just needed to get home.
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thelunarfairy · 3 months
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Do you have any theories about the extremely dangerous thing Hanako did to get sealed?
I've already made some posts talking about the subject, have fun with them ^^
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pupsmailbox · 7 months
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MEDICAL︰GORE ID PACK
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NAMES ⌇ aceso. addison. aden. aero. airmed. aliza. alora. althea. ambrose. ambulette. ame. amelie. amor. amore. angel. angelique. angelo. anna. anthony. apollo. arabella. arzt. asa. avian. babe. baby. bambi. bandage. bandagette. blanche. blanchette. blood. bloodette. bright. brigid. cal. carla. carmelita. catherine. cathie. cathy. cecil. chamomile. charge. charles. charlotte. clara. clemence. clement. connie. cora. corina. corry. cosmas. cross. crosse. crossette. daisy. daniel. david. delilah. desdemona. dorothea. dropsy. edema. edith. eira. elias. eliza. elizabeth. ellison. emil. emily. emma. evangeline. feronia. fleur. florence. fragilette. frailette. galen. ginger. gram. grimm. hansen. harmonie. harmony. hazel. healer. hira. hospette. ida. incisionette. incisionne. ivie. ivy. jace. jackie. james. jason. jayla. jayr. jen. jennifer. joasias. john. josiah. joy. jules. kaison. lace. lain. laryn. leah. lee. leigh. leuk. lucie. luciel. lucile. lucy. lue. lues. lyra. lyrica. mae. maebell. maggie. maiya. malachi. mark. mary. marybelle. may. maya. meddette. medette. medicel. medicette. medicinalle. medilita. mercia. michael. michelle. milo. milu. mitzi. moraxella. morgan. natasha. needlette. nile. norrie. norry. nursesse. nursette. nursie. nwurse. nyura. palsy. penny. phoebe. phoebus. pille. pillette. pott. potter. quinn. raphael. ray. red. redde. reseda. reye. richard. robert. rose. salmon. savior. scalpelle. scarlet. scrivener. scrubbe. scrubette. scrubs. serra. shiga. solitude. steven. stitch. stitches. stitchette. susan. sylvie. syrinelle. syringe. syringette. thomas. triage. vasc. viper. vitas. vitus. wiel. winnie. yves. zika. zoster.
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PRONOUNS ⌇ ache/ache. ai/aid. aid/aid. aid/aide. amb/ambulance. ambulance/ambulance. bacteria/bacteria. band/age. band/aid. band/bandaid. bandage/bandage. bandaid/bandaid. bile/bile. bl0/bl00d. blood/blood. bu/bubonic. bump/bump. ca/care. care/care. chick/chicken. chronic/chronic. chu/chu. clean/clean. cold/cold. cough/cough. crab/crab. cross/cross. cross/crosse. cure/cure. cyu/cyu. die/dying. doc/doc. doc/doctor. doctor/doctor. dra/draw. drug/drug. fe/fever. fever/fever. flu/flu. fluff/fluffie. fragi/fragile. fragile/fragile. fragile/fragility. frail/frail. frail/frailty. gauze/gauze. germ/germ. gown/gown. gross/gross. he/heal. he/heart. he/help. he/hem. heal/heal. heal/healer. healer/healer. heart/heart. help/help. herb/herb. herb/herbal. hos/hospital. hospital/hospital. ill/ill. in/inject. incision/incision. infect/infection. injure/injury. IV/IV. iv/iv. ivy/ivie. ivy/ivy. lace/lace. li/live. love/love. lung/lung. luv/luv. mas/mask. mask/mask. med/med. med/medic. med/medical. med/medicine. medi/medic. medi/medicine. medic/medic. medical/medical. medicine/medicine. nee/needle. need/needle. needle/needle. nu/nurse. nur/nurse. nur/se. nurse/nurse. out/outbreak. pain/pain. pat/patient. patient/patient. pi/pill. pil/pill. pill/pill. pla/plague. plus/plushe. poke/poke. red/red. sa/save. savior/savior. sca/scan. scissor/scissor. scissor/scissors‎. scrub/scrub. shi/hir. si/sick. sic/sick. sick/sick. sick/sickly. skin/skin. sle/sleep. sneeze/sneeze. so/soft. soap/soap. sore/sore. stab/stab. stem/cell. stitch/stitch. stu/study. su/surgeon. sun/sun. sweet/sweet. symptom/symptom. syn/syndrome. syr/syr. syr/syringe. syri/syri. syrin/syringe. syringe/syringe. tape/tape. te/test. virus/viruse. ward/ward. we/well. wrap/wrap. ☎ . ☣️ . ⚰ . ❤️‍🩹 . 🌀 . 🌡️ . 🎀 . 🏥 . 🏨 . 👨🏻‍⚕️ . 👩🏻‍⚕️ . 💉 . 💊 . 💐 . 💤 . 📞 . 🔬 . 😷 . 🚑 . 🤒 . 🤢 . 🤧 . 🥀 . 🥼 . 🦠 . 🧊 . 🧑‍⚕️ . 🧠 . 🧪 . 🧫 . 🧬 . 🩸 . 🩹 . 🩺 .
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smehur · 19 days
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Drarry fic recs #4
Marginal Notes by @blamebrampton
When you're 18, and nothing is as it was meant to be, sometimes it can be hard to let the right people know what you are thinking. Thankfully, Draco Malfoy owns a quill.
What a delightful story! I loved the thoughtful, grounded, calm Draco and how well he applied his wit (and the penchant for fixing things?) to solving other people's problems. It's a bit on the side of wishful thinking - I don't really believe someone could change that much over night - but it's nice wishful thinking that I enjoyed and would happily inflict on myself again. Among other things, I enjoyed the crisp, flawless writing. It's not often the editor in me wouldn't change a single word in a fic. I very much plan to read BB's entire catalogue.
The Boy from the Piano Shop by @soliblomst
After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes.
Finally got to read this fic everyone's talking about. And for good reasons! It's heartbreaking and wholesome, starkly realistic and hopelessly romantic, all at once. I'm often annoyed by shallow depictions of low self-esteem that goes with depression, especially when it's used as an artificial obstacle in the way of romance ("I'm not good enough for you, so even though I love you, I'm breaking up"), and this is one of the few stories (by which I mean all my reading, not just fanfiction) where I could completely believe it, and sympathize with it. (Bonus points for not being used as an obstacle in the way of romance.) The general lack of obstacles in the way of romance was incredibly refreshing and welcome, as was the lack of drama around the revelation that Harry Potter is secretly friends with Draco Malfoy. Everything is very mature, to the point where I think the story would be better set in their 30s than in their 20s, but I didn't mind. Harry's grief is all-present and at times, harrowing, but never gratuitous, and it's well-balanced by the peace and joy he finds in Draco's company. The two scenes where Draco unexpectedly dons a scarf are etched in my memory forever. An incredible piece.
i stay by @hogwartsfirebolt
The darkening sky is dangerous for the shape of Harry’s desire, it makes it seem reasonable, as though it were a natural conclusion of having Draco once again within reach, rather than the mirage it actually is.
I said it before, and I'll say it again: this fic is exquisite. Tense and tender in perfect proportion and filled with a dazzling array of sensory details that painted each scene like a work of art. Although I could see what was coming in the end (thanks to expert foreshadowing), the finale still stole my breath away. A wonderful read!
All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl & podfic by originally
Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.
Oh, this was such a joy to listen. I think I had a smile on my face for the whole duration of the podfic (about 12 hours), minus the few minutes when there were tears instead. I don't know where to start with the praise. The meticulously constructed world of Draco's self-imposed loneliness? The supporting cast of interesting and well-rounded original characters? The tangible, eminently relatable trials and tribulations of a teacher's life? Or maybe the deceptively simple concept at the root of the story, allowing Draco to break out of his shell on his own? Oh, how I love this gentle, fragile, vulnerable Draco hiding behind impatience and aloofness and his sharp tongue. And the fearless, unstoppable Harry, his bouts of bad temper and his naked honesty. And Stanley, with that inevitable, ill-timed tack-tack-tack! Everything felt so true, so real, so close, I felt just as exposed and frightened as Draco, just as desperate at his inability to make a move. I know I said this half a dozen times by now since I started reading fic in this fandom, but I can't help it. This may be the best fic I've ever read.
Correction! The best fic I've ever heard! The reading was impeccable, possibly the best I've heard so far, and infused the story with even more life and love and laughter. A beautiful, unforgettable experience.
Heartbeat by @saxamophone (eight_of_wands)
Harry hates Draco. Draco hates Harry. Only it's not hate, not even a little bit. Featuring: a cooperative independent study, golden hour on wrecked sheets, water from fountains of dubious origin, purple Mardi Gras beads, and a bird with silly legs. Also featuring: heated arguments, infidelity, unquenchable desire, and heartbreak. Over and over again.
I'll be honest: this fic did not grip me at once. I could even say I struggled through the first few stances. But then came the understanding of what "I hate you" means and I read on with eyes wide and heart thumping (Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy) and I was so very richly rewarded. Among all the things I loved about it, the most memorable are the incredibly vivid images and impressions of New Orleans, and the moment of searing, all-consuming jealous rage that I regret to say I could relate to all too well. The confrontations were exquisite, the dialog sparking with tension and more importantly, with truth. There's no melodrama here to create suspense, it's all raw and real and indeed, heartbreaking. But hearts can mend. :)
Many, many, heartfelt thanks to all the authors in this amazing fandom and to all the readers helping spread the word. 💞
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lix88888 · 1 year
Text
Injury
Nobody is invincible.
"Ah!"
And you can't escape injury forever.
"Blue!"
Especially if you're mortal.
"It's okay!" "Blue, it's not okay, you're hurt! Don't try to be a hero!"
But that doesn't mean it's the end.
"Ink really" Sans said, looking at his partner with an unimpressed stare "it's just a small cut. I'll be fine." The Protector, however, remained frantic.
"You don't know that!" he pointed at the thin line on Sans's finger "You were cutting up food, your wound could get infected! Look at how filthy the knife is!" "Ink, i'm not- AH!" "I'll bring you to Dreamy right away! He'll fix you!" "INK! PUT ME DOWN!"
Undeterred, Ink kept holding Sans bridal style as he carried him away. "INK! I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own! I don't need you to carry me!" Ink didn't seem to hear him. "Don't worry, he'll fix you right up, it's gonna be like nothing happened, you won't even feel it-" "INK!" "What's all the yelling?"
Dream! Finally! Sans could kiss him (well, he already could, but-)! He could talk some sense into Ink. Ink meanwhile started sobbing.
"DREAMY! BLUE IS HURT BADLY! HE NEEDS YOU TO HEAL HIM!" Dream worriedly looked Sans over, but Sans quickly raised his left hand and showed him the shallow cut on his index. Dream rolled his eyes as he grabbed Sans from Ink's arms and set him down on his feet. Sweet, sweet ground.
"Ink. He's fine." "P-p-promi-i-i-ise?"
The Protector was a mess of tears, his face all flushed rainbow and his pupils a dark blue teardrop and purple broken heart.
Oh, it was serious. Sans had thought he was being a bit dramatic with everything, but his eyes showed that he was genuinely distraught and scared.
Dream and Sans moved at once, going to hug Ink. Due to his short stature, the artist was engulfed in the embrace.
"Ink? Why are you panicking so much? You know Blue can take much worse than this." "Bu-bu-but he's ge-e-e-etting o-o-old! Old pe-e-e-eople are fragi-i-i-i-ile!" "Ink, I'm only 40!"
This, instead of reassuring Ink, just made him cry more. "You're O-O-O-O-OLD!" he clutched at Sans's chest, almost hurting him with his tight grip "YOU-U-U ARE GONNA DI-I-I-IE IN 50 YE-E-E-E-EARS!"
Sans and Dream looked at each other as Ink bawled. It was... it was a topic that the three of them tried to avoid, but that was always looming over them: Dream and Ink were immortal, Sans was not.
One day (too soon, always too soon) Sans would die.
And Ink and Dream would have to move on.
Dream's hand found his, and the Guardian of Positivity brought it to his mouth to lay a kiss on its back. Only after feeling a tingle Sans realized that he had healed his small cut.
Too bad not everything could be resolved so easily.
@starsanspolyweek
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