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legacygirlingreen · 1 year

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Christmas with the Sallow Family: Chapter 4 || Sugarplum Fairy

Authors Note:

I am back! I apologize for taking so long, school really heated up, but I graduate in about 10 days so I am finally getting free time back! Thank everyone who’s continued to support this story. I really hope this has been worth the wait, and soon should have more availability to work on future chapters! I haven’t had much time to edit, but I figured it better to post and edit later. Again, thank you all! Special thanks to @anto-pops for the advice on writing NSFW content, as this is my first attempt at it… So strap in folks because things are finally getting a tad serious.

Also, I usually go for historical accuracy, but couldn’t resist throwing in the Nutcracker during a fic set at Christmas. Historically it wouldn’t become a ballet till about a year later, but for the purposes here we can bend the rules a tad… Anyways, sending positive vibes to you all!

Warnings: NSFW content! (Finally). Minors do not interact! 18+.

Reminder: This work is part of a larger collection of work, see Masterlist (Pinned on Profile) for the rest of this fic!

Word count: 9,000 words

previous chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/legacygirlingreen/713708165693308928/christmas-with-the-sallow-family-chapter-3?source=share

After an uneventful dinner in the Sallow home, the four young adults migrated out into the center of the hamlet with the rest of residents to partake in Christmas Eve festivities. Some of the older men played enchanted instruments to the tunes of upbeat folk songs, as children ran around playfully dancing to their song. Solomon who had opted to stand guard with some of the town’s men in case of another goblin attack, left them without the looming sense of awkwardness that had existed while they ate a few hours prior.

Sebastian had opted to change back out of his father’s jumper, as it was slowly getting colder, and he didn’t want to damper the mood with its presence. She still wore the same dress as before as they watched as Anne was playfully spinning with one of the young boys in their village. Ominis had laughed as the small boy, who had grown quite smitten with Anne as she remained behind in Feldcroft, politely asked her to dance with him. Shortly there after, Ominis himself was roped into showing the younger sister of the boy dancing with Anne how he was able to use his wand to move about despite his blindness, as the girl was also heavily vision impaired. Sebastian watched as his twin had to duck quite low to move her head under the small child’s arm as the boy attempted to spin her as he saw the adults of their hamlet do for the women. At the same time, Ominis was cautiously moving the small girl about in front of him with his wand pointed out in front of the both of them. It made him smile seeing his friend and his sister engaged so sweetly with smaller children who lived next door.

Without thought, he turned himself towards the girl next to him. She sat perched on one of the low stone walls surrounding the main circle of their village’s center. Sebastian found himself standing behind her, arms coming to rest on the sides of her, as she leaned back slightly onto his chest in her seated position. She turned her head to the left, noting how Ominis was entertaining the little girl by sharing how he navigated the world with a child who shared his condition.

“I never knew Ominis was so good with children” she said as she noted the way he helped lift the girl, who was nearing the end of her toddler years, and moved them both towards Anne and the young boy with the help of his wand. The little girl shrieked in laughter at how she, like Ominis, had a vague sense of the world around them with the help of the sentient wand.

“I do believe it may just be that child in particular” Sebastian sad with a chuckle before continuing “He usually finds kids off putting and overtly loud”.

“I guess I can understand where he is coming from… it is still sweet nonetheless.” She said, words trailing off in deep thought at the sight before them both. Anne and Ominis had rejoined with the young siblings, forming a small circle where they all were slowly spinning together.

Sebastian watched for a moment longer, before allowing his eyes to wander back to the girl. He couldn’t help but notice the way the moonlight cast lovely shadows on her face, or the way the firelight danced in her eyes. Hearing the melodic laughter of the children, yet his own eyes lost as they danced over her distracted form, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to a place they could both inhabit in the future. How he could home from work, crossing the threshold to greet her, before reaching down to observe whatever mischief some smaller version of them had created during his time away for the day.

“What are your thoughts on children?” She asked, breaking his train of thought before it could fully develop.

“In general or…?” He asked, aiming to figure out exactly what kind of answer she was desiring from him. He didn’t doubt for a second if she asked him, despite their age, he would give an honest answer. He simply wanted her to ask him without any reservations and on her own terms.

“Well I mean obviously in general, but also… having kids? Is that something you want some day?” She asked him, wavering for a moment before finding confidence to turn her body around to face him as she firmly planted her stare in his own.

“I like children. I enjoy the way their minds work, and how they are honest to a fault. I admit, I haven’t had much experience with them up close I am afraid. My parents only had Anne and I, as it was a traumatic delivery for my mother, so they decided one pair of rambunctious twins to be enough. Solomon has never even attempted to find a woman. We have no other family, so the extent of my experience has been back here during the summers with the few children in the hamlet.” He said, fingers playing with the strings of her corset unconsciously as his eyes wandered around the bustling hamlet to observe the youth spread about.

Sebastian remembered small moments where he had been asked to watch over the siblings dancing with his Twin over the past summer, and how while nerve wracking at times, he enjoyed getting the chance to entertain them. They never failed to make him laugh at their antics.

He looked back up into her pleading eyes, and he knew what she wanted to hear. “I definitely want children someday” he said confidently. Even before he had met her, he knew that at the very least he wanted to pass on his family’s namesake, as there was little chance Solomon would, and he was the only remaining Sallow who could. Although, with as much as he knew Ominis hated being a Gaunt, it wouldn’t surprise him if one day their friend took Anne’s name…

“You do?” She asked, seemingly shocked at how open he was on the topic, especially at his age. While the Twins were due for their 17th birthday shortly after Christmas, she was surprised he already had come to a conclusion on his future while still, in the eyes of the law, technically being considered a child himself. While in her muggle village he may be considered old enough to already have started that path in life, she had come to learn that in the Wizarding World, they were not quite as quick to marry off their sons and daughters…

“Of course” he said, smile beaming at her pleasant surprised expression. She briefly looked down at her lap before reaching forward to tug his jacket only slightly so he would come closer to her. He chuckled at her desire to pull him closer as he admitted he wanted children.

“Hey now, just because I desire children someday does not mean I want them now” he playfully retorted while wiggling is eyebrows at her action and he loved watching as she turned bright red at his teasing. She scoffed but didn’t push him away. She smoothed a hand over the trim of his lapel before straightening the simple “S” pin he adorned on the same side as his heart.

“What about you Missy? Do you see yourself having children?” He asked her, realizing she hadn’t commented on the matter. While her smile had told him that she most likely held the same ideas as him in the matter, he didn’t truly know.

She lifted her hand to cup Sebastian’s cheek as she carefully brushed a hand over the planes of his face. Her other hand migrated to his shoulder, fingers slowly tracing the soft hair at the back of his neck as his eyes slowly drifted shut at her soft contact. A small smile worked its way onto his face, as no matter how much she did it, he truly never got over how much he adored her gentle fingertips brushing along his skin and hair. However this was short lived, as she began speaking, his eyes snapped back open to watch her reply.

“I could see myself coming home to a little girl maybe… with a thousand freckles spilling across her cheeks and over the bridge of her nose” she said, softly tracing a path across the center of his face with her pointer finger before coming to frame his eyes as she continued “perhaps she would even have big doe eyes, full of the same mischief I see right here”. She softly traced the skin under his eyes as she gazed up at him. He felt a shudder run through him as she kept going.

“Or a young boy… with a big toothy grin” she said, fingers lightly brushing over his lips as he suddenly felt a weight drop in his stomach, but she didn’t stop there. The fingers in his hair continued as their movement went from unconscious to deliberate. “Maybe he’d have thick, unruly, brown hair that would need to be tied back while he played like his father…”

Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the way she seemed to remember what he had told her about himself as a child in the Undercroft that so long ago. The day he decided he would do anything to be able to show her his love. He loved how comfortable she felt confirming that he would in fact be the father of these idealistic children. Even more, he loved the thought of her desiring a possible daughter to have his dark eyes or a son having his thick Scottish hair.

He always had wondered what parts of his parents he inherited, as well as what one day he would pass on. While he wasn’t particularly fond of his skin’s blemishes from spending so much time in the sun, a small part of him was relieved to hear how much she seemed to adore the marks that covered his body.

If he focused hard enough, Sebastian could almost see the same image in his head. A little girl with similarly colored locks to her own, framing chubby cheeks filled with freckles. The shallow slope of his nose, but her soft smile paired with his dark eyes and her long eyelashes. He could almost cry thinking of how sweet such a child could look being perfectly comprised of both their features. He had always loved the name Estelle.

She paused for a moment, worried her words had frightened him, as he continued blinking rapidly with a far off look in his eye. He was shocked back to reality when her hand started slowly trailing off his face to return to her lap. Sebastian pushed it back up before she got very far, his fingers caressing her own as he took in a deep breath to steady himself.

“While I like your train of thought…” he started, slightly startled by how the lump in his throat made itself known as he began to speak, but he powered through as he stared in her eyes.

“I think that’s entirely too much of myself in children I one day hope, will take after their mother’s beauty”

“Yo-you want your children to…” she couldn’t find the words as she had a thousand thoughts running through her brain at his admission that one day, he wanted to share a home and children with her.

“To look as lovely as you, yes.” He said, noting the way she had a small tear leak out without realizing. Sebastian simply brushed it off her cheek without commenting on it. He understood how such words might draw such a reaction. He had felt such an odd stirring in himself at the conversation. All the sorrow he’d known for losing his parents mixed with the joy he felt knowing he was building something with this lovely girl.

“I disagree… I think their father to be quite handsome” she said, loving the way his dimples appeared at her comment.

“Then its settled. One day we will make beautiful children and people can argue which one of us contributed more to their good looks.” He responded making her laugh so hard she clutched his shoulder as he joined in her laughter.

“We should probably join in the festivities” she said, looking around to see if anyone was lingering too close to hear their conversation. He leaned in, as if he was going to tell her a secret.

“I would much rather stay here and talk about making babies with you…” he purred in her ear and she pushed him away slightly.

“Sebastian!” She exclaimed, noting the way her reaction only spurred him on further as he dipped his head back in laughter.

“I didn’t know you were such a prude” he said, drawing her to stand from her seated position on the wall. Sebastian carefully escorted her to where the hamlet were still dancing in the late hours of the evening in the grass. As he pulled her close, one hand resting on her waist, and the other holding her hand, he noticed the slight pout she had on her face.

“I am not a prude…” she mumbled as she allowed him to slowly start moving about in small circles while holding her.

“Could have fooled me” he responded, noticing the way her eyes quickly darted around to see if anyone around them was watching before she leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder. She sighed before she tipped her chin towards his ear: “talking about your desire for future children, and discussing the act of making them are two very different conversations” she purred.

Sebastian’s hand on her waist tightened, holding her closer to his body. In fact, he was slowly beginning to feel the beat of her heart through the fabric of his undershirt, his own sweater, and jacket. Not to mention the layers she was wearing… He felt the need to pull her close despite the fact he was warming up along every inch of his body. He barely recognized that a very light snow was beginning to fall because how hot he suddenly found himself. The only reason he noticed was seeing the way small flakes began to get caught in her hair, and he imagined he looked similar.

“Could you see yourself entertaining…” he trailed off as he noticed Anne and Ominis standing a few feet away. Ominis was holding her hand as Anne was beaming at himself and the girl. He looked back down at the girl in his arms, “can we pick this conversation back up later?” he asked her. She nodded as they continued their simple dancing to the slow song of the band. Every so often Sebastian would lift her arm, twisting her gracefully, before returning her to their pose. He was by no means a wonderful dancer, but he seemed to understand a simple box step, and that’s all she needed. It however, warm her heart to be dancing again after so long. It wasn’t long however before the song came to an end.

Throughout the evening the pair had heard the almost continuous sound of instrumental music playing, so the sudden silence that permeated the air was mildly jarring. As she lifted her head to see if the band was retiring for the evening, she was surprised to meet Anne’s mischievous expression.

Ominis stood near the band, conversing with some of the men as Anne attempted to drag the girl from Sebastian’s arms. He let out a sigh as he tightened his arm around her a little confused why his twin was attempting to get the girls attention so intently.

“Anne is something wrong?” She asked, slightly concerned as to why the girl was attempting to remove her with the degree of effort she was aiming to use. Anne shook her head, finally successful in unraveling the couple.

Before Sebastian could question what was happening, Anne whisked her away and Ominis quickly came to drag Sebastian off in the opposite direction without a word. “Ominis, what the hell?” He asked annoyed as his friend simply shook his head no, a small smile stretched across his lips. Whatever Anne was planning must not be too terrible if Ominis was going along with it.

Sebastian found himself suddenly off to the side of the area everyone had been dancing, with the two young siblings from next door, as Ominis left them to join some of the adults of Feldcroft. Sebastian was extremely confused what they were doing, as many of them started talking amongst themselves and using their wands to start conjuring a small wooden platform on the ground. A proper dance space replaced the uneven ground. But why now?

It wasn’t long before he found an answer to all his questions in the form of Bernard Ndiaye coming forward. The members of the hamlet all stood to the side of the platform, allowing the shopkeeper to cross the small stage, to make an announcement.

“It appears that we had a dancer in our midst and didn’t even know it. After speaking with young Anne Sallow, this year’s newest addition has agreed to showcase a muggle tradition I hear is very popular this time of year.” Ndiaye spoke briefly before quickly standing to the side.

Sebastian recognized the sounds of Tchaikovsky, as his mother had adored the composers work. Every year around this time they would all make their way into the muggle portions of London just to watch the ballet for his mothers sake. Sebastian had almost forgotten about it, but Anne seemed to have remembered. It had been years since they had be able to watch a performance.

Looking around he was surprised to find Anne back at his side as she carefully wrapped her slender arm around his own, lightly squeezing his bicep. Sebastian looked to see if she had returned with his twin but was disappointed seeing she returned alone. Before he could question Anne as to where his love had wandered off to he immediately felt his knees almost give out.

In the corner of the small wooden platform there she stood. She must have used some sort of transfiguration charm to change her long green dress, as she now was a vision in soft lavender. Her delicate arms, exposed to the cool air, as only thin straps held up the bodice around her breasts and abdomen. At her waist soft lace and tule flared, just barely covering her most intimate areas. Sebastian couldn’t stop his wandering eyes from noticing how the thin tights she wore clung to her soft but muscular legs, especially given how much of them were displayed before him. Atop her head rested a small diadem, shining in the moonlight.

She had pulled her hair back into a small bun, leaving her nape exposed. Sebastian was struck so suddenly by how his mind l seemingly split into both thoughts of how downright ethereal she looked and how incredibly sexy she was. He was both smitten and feeling himself with growing arousals at how delicate yet strong she looked.

As the band softly played transitional music, she lifted her gaze to Anne, giving her a shy smile, before taking a deep breath. She refused to let her gaze wander to Sebastian, for fear she may loose her nerves if she saw his eyes on her. She nodded to the few men with instruments that they could begin and she closed her eyes, attempting to remember the steps she had all but memorized from her years partaking in the muggle study of ballet.

The opening notes of dance of the sugar plum fairy started and she was off. The playful melody of the Russian composer, although missing some of the instruments a full orchestra would have, filled the air. Almost as if riding a horse, the steps immediately came flooding back to her memory as she gracefully moved about the small stage on her toes, arms extended.

She tried her best to not think of how much the movements were causing her abdomen to ache with pain or her lugs burn. After mentioning to Anne in Hogsmeade that she had studied ballet for years, the girl had all but pleaded on her knees to see at least some part of The Nutcracker, as it was their mothers favorite. She conceded knowing it would lift the girls spirits, however she had not known the full extent to which she had been roped into until the girl had escorted her away from Sebastian.

Sebastian watched her earnestly as she moved about the space with the same grace she used when she dueled. He had been right in his assumption she did in fact know how to dance, as here she stood, body moving with such a lovely flow it replicated that of a stream. Her movements both soft and delicate, yet poised and full of strength. The way the stars and the falling snow framed her feminine form. The way the moonlight and firelight made the diadem and crystals on her bodice sparkle replicated that of a princess. Her soft smile at the confidence in her movements. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.

He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt a small handkerchief being thrust into his hands. He didn’t even look down to see that Ominis’s outstretched hand had been holding his own pocket square, as he refused to tear his eyes away from her for even a second. The world could come crashing down around them and he still would not be able to look away from the delicate creature in front of him. He half wondered if she was part nymph or siren, as the way she moved her body enticed him in ways he ought not know to be possible.

It wasn’t long before the band began to quicken their pace, with her rapidly increasing her tempo as well. She began moving about in such fast twirls, constantly upon her toes, matching the musicality. She was like a flurry of snow, twisting her body with such speed and skill. As fast as the dance had started, they quickly drew their instruments to the close, as she stopped, drawing her arms into an outstretched pose to conclude the dance.

As the people of Feldcroft began to cheer for her, clapping loudly, she began searching the crowds for Sebastian. With all the townspeople and snow picking up its pace, it was difficult to see where he had gotten off to. As she drew herself into a soft bow she saw a single white rose land in front of her. She quickly drew it into her hand before slowly making her way off the wood floor.

She barely heard Bernard speaking to the hamlet as she made her way to the left side of the stage. The people around her parted, allowing a direct path towards Sebastian. As she got closer she saw the soft glistening of tears in his eyes and on his face.

Sebastian felt like he was watching an angel make its way from heaven, down to him as she took soft steps towards him. He was thankful his neighbors had respected them enough to separate, making her journey easier. He hadn’t even attempted to brush the tears from his eyes, proudly wearing them as she deserved to know what a lovely reaction her talent had brought out in him.

When she had finished, he had found himself transforming the handkerchief in his hands into a single rose, tossing it at her feet the same way that he’d seen muggles do in London. When he found her situated directly in front of him, beaming up into his eyes, he didn’t care who was around them. The young siblings next door, his own sister, the townspeople, hell even Solomon: they were all irrelevant to this beautiful angel. His beautiful angel.

She softly brushed the tears off his face as he smiled, a few more continuing to slip out. The girl laughed softly, not in jest, but in elation at how much love was pouring from his eyes.

Sebastian brought his hand up, to firmly hold hers against his face as he ground himself in the moment. A selfish part of him never wanted this wonderful day to end.

It wasn’t long before the chilling Scottish air made itself known again, as she shivered against him, given how much of her body was exposed. He quickly unwrapped her arms, sliding off his jacket, before gently laying it around her shoulders.

“You must be freezing, sorry I didn’t think of that” he whispered out. The town around them had resumed dancing, wandering off to let the young adults converse as they pleased.

She brushed off his comment, but pulled the jacket tighter around her body. She looked back up at him, eyes still shining with amazement. He took the rose that had been held in her hand, placing it behind her ear. His fingers trailed down her cheek and jaw before his hand plant itself against the side of her neck. Sebastian softly pulled her into his tall frame, as his other hand came to rest on her bent elbow. They continued to softly sway as he held her head close to his chest, and she let her arms stay wrapped around his waist.

“I don’t think I have ever been happier in my entire life” he softly hummed out. She tightened her grip on his lower back, softly inhaling his woody scent.

“Me either” she replied, unable to fill her senses with enough of Sebastian Sallow as they softly turned in the moonlight. She wanted more. She didn’t care that her legs were freezing or ballet slippers were terrible shoes to walk in. She simply wanted to bottle up this feeling and keep it close to her heart forever.

As another song started up they heard a throat being cleared not far from them. She lifted her head from its place over his heart as Sebastian noticed Solomon standing near by, his expression unreadable.

“It is getting late. I think it is time you all retire.” He spoke firmly, but didn’t comment on how they were dancing nor her costume.

Sebastian only nodded, before spinning her around to head back towards their tent. Anne and Ominis were already back inside when they arrived. Immediately upon entering Anne jumped the girl.

“Oh Merlin! That was so amazing! Thank you so much, it truly meant so much to be able to experience one of our old traditions. You are so talented.” Anne blabbered on as she continued a string of “you’re welcome” and “thank you” in response to all she kept saying.

Sebastian leaned against the support beam for the main room watching as the girl demonstrated some of the poses for Anne. She shrugged his jacket off inside the tents warmth, thanks to Ominis having started the fire. Once again he found himself staring at the lovely lines her legs were creating as she lifted her weight onto one foot, and moved her other leg to the height of her waist with ease. When she lifted her arms, the skirt also raised, giving him a very open view of her tight and bloomer clad rear. What he would give to always have her in such attire.

She turned around after demonstrating to Anne some of the basics she had come to know, and when she did she noted the down-right sinful look in Sebastian’s eyes. She moved to grab his coat off the cushions from when she had set it down, while Anne sat next to Ominis by the fire. When she approached him, she noticed a small plant extending down from the support beam, to rest just over his head. Mistletoe.

Sebastian looked up at the small plant he was conjuring with the wand at his side. He knew the tradition would make her laugh, and when she caught sight of it she grew slightly pink knowing what he wanted from her.

The boy drew her close, pulling her under the small white bulbs with him. The devilish grin upon his face making her grow even warmer. He pulled the jacket from her hands, letting it fall to the floor with no regard for how it crumpled, before wrapping his other arm around her waist.

“Your opinions on mistletoe m’lady?” He asked, staring intently into her eyes.

“I suppose it is a fun tradition, although if you wanted a kiss, you need not ask”

Sebastian needed no further encouragement, pulling her waist directly into contact with his. Her eyes grew wide at realizing his manhood was pressing into her clothed center, but as his lips made contact with hers, they fluttered shut. His other hand planted on the small of her back, and both of hers finding place on his shoulders. He playfully lowered her weight, as he dipped her forward while continued kissing her. She sighed into his mouth as when he lowered them both, his weight pressed into her most sensitive area even more than it had when he pulled her against his body.

Sebastian returned her to her feet reluctantly, pulling his mouth from hers to give a small kiss to her cheek before nuzzling his nose to the side of her face.

“Have I succeeded in sweeping you off your feet darling?” He teased and she shivered as his long eyelashes tickled her cheek. She nodded, holding him close, breathing in his scent.

“You two are appalling.” Anne said while standing, breaking up their moment as she reaching a hand out for Ominis. The pair migrated towards the boys side of the tent together.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Sebastian asked, playfully taunting his sister.

“To sleep” she said, continuing to pull the blushing blond with her.

“Mhm… and I am the appalling one” he responded sarcastically as she rolled her eyes, sliding into the privacy of the other room. Ominis gave a shy wave before following her.

“You know if it were anyone other than Ominis I’d ring their neck” he playfully chuckled watching his best friends shy allowance of his twins rule breaking.

She scoffed “Please, as if you are much better in that arena Mr. Sallow” as she poked a finger into his chest playfully.

Sebastian stiffened at her words, grabbing her hand as he pulled her backwards into the privacy of the other room. As soon as the curtain gave way he cast a simple silencing charm, throwing his wand to the side.

He lowered his mouth to her ear, lightly nipping it. “Say that again” he all but growled against her skin.

“Say what again?” She asked playfully as his hands found their way under the many layers of tule, fingers splayed across her lower cheeks.

“You know what” he said, feeling his self control starting to waiver as the events of the last few days were building. Their stolen kisses, almost watching her die, sharing a sensual bath, waking up next to her, her body on display during the dance and their conversations on a future. It all felt too much, as if he’d wake up and it all had been a dream. Sebastian needed the chance to prove he was worthy of their lofty expectations for the future, that he was worthy of her love and adoration. That he could be the man she deserved. Someone who could take care of her, provide for her, protect her and give her the life she deserved.

“Only if you answer me this” she said, trailing off as he caressed her skin through the tights. He mumbled out what she assumed was “sure” against her neck as he continued to kiss and suck lightly on the delicate skin exposed but her bun.

They were playing with fire and she knew it. She just hoped that when it was all said and done neither of them wound up burned.

“Would you like to resume our conversation from earlier now that we are alone?” She tried to keep her voice as sultry as possible but finding it difficult with the wonderful way he mapped out the skin of her neck and shoulders with his lips while his fingers traced her lower regions.

“While I would love to have that conversation, I don’t particularly feel like talking right now, do you…” he huskily whispered into her neck making her shudder.

She shook her head at his words as he carefully walked the both of them backwards towards the bed. When her legs made contact with the edge of the mattress, he gently helped her sit at the edge before lowering himself to the floor in front of her.

She raised a tentative eyebrow at him as he sat on his knees in front of her. In his mind, she looked downright ethereal, still in the beaded costume, head covered in jewels.

Sebastian carefully brought his chin to rest just above her knee, looking up at her through his eyelashes as she curled a hand into his hair.

Lowering his hands, he slowly began to unravel her ballet slippers off each foot, carefully tracing his finger up her leg as he did so. She felt a deep warmth spread about her at his soft traces, as the tights were not thick.

He placed soft kisses on the skin of her thigh as he whispered against her skin. “My Angel… goddess divine…” she heard against her legs as she continued to pour his love into her.

Sebastian looked up into her eyes again as he tried to find an ounce of his slipping self control. Her fingers still wound in his tresses and her soft gaze upon him as he laid more gentle kisses upon her skin. “Aphrodite herself” he said with a groan.

Let me worship you.

She was caught off guard at his words but he continued to plead with her. Sebastian shook her hand from his hair, rising as much as he could while still on his knees for her. He held her hand close to his heart, eyes imploring hers as his body softly shook in anticipation. Sebastian hoped she could feel the way his heart beat against her fingers. The way it beat for her.

Let me show you all the praise you deserve, my goddess. Please I beg you.

She couldn’t help but feel herself giving in, as seeing him beg on his knees for her was something she never thought possible. What happened to the proud Slytherin boy she met her first day Hogwarts who taunted her in class? He had wound his way into her very soul, loosing the arrogance that plagued him, now ready to be whatever she needed, as she graciously returned the same sentiments. She softly nodded, bringing his face up as she tipped his chin forward to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

Every moment they spent alone plagued with teasing and playful comments built into a strong sense of longing, only being held back by external rules of propriety. As he moved his mouth against hers that first time, cracks began to form. Now in the privacy on Christmas Eve, That’s when the damn finally broke.

Sebastian carefully pulled himself from the floor, helping her rise gently to her feet as he softly turned her around. His fingers lightly brushed against her corsets strings while his lips continued to softly press kisses and sweet words of praise along her shoulders.

My beautiful angel…

Most beautiful part of this world…

His movements were careful as he slowly unraveled the soft lace from her skin. As it became loose he slowly allowed the material to fall to the floor. She remained unclothed from the waist up, only bloomers and tights covering her lower half.

She turned to face him in the dim light, seeing the adoration in his chocolate eyes as she slowly slid her hands under his sweater, pulling it up his torso. Sebastian allowed her to carefully slip it off his body before she did the same for his undershirt. When his chest finally was exposed again she couldn’t help but lightly whimper at seeing his soft flesh, and he quickly pulled her back into his towering frame.

His left hand held the juncture between her jaw and neck, fingers softly tracing the skin he found there. Sebastian carefully lifted her face up to his own as her trembling fingers wound there way into his hair once again. With her pressed into him, he could feel her hardened nipples against the planes of chest, loving the way their skin to skin contact created a fire in his stomach.

His other hand slipped lower, find purchase along her waistband, toying with it as he kissed her gently. As he did so, her fingers continued weaving in and out of his hair, and it wasn’t long before he ran a testing swipe along her bottom lip with his tongue. Sebastian couldn’t help but groan when she opened for him, letting their kisses to deepen as their tongues carefully danced together. It wasn’t long before she was pulling away, feeling breathless at their actions.

Taking the opportunity of their pause in kisses, he gripped the band of her remaining clothing, and slowly lowered himself to the floor as he slid the material from her body, undergarments coming with it. He did so carefully, afraid she would snap to her senses and stop him. Sebastian was surprised when her bloomers touched the floor, and he found himself once again on his knees, this time directly in front of her naked form. His found himself carefully helping her step out of the clothes, tossing them into the unknown as he caressed her calf as he once again lifted his gaze.

When the cool air exposed her womanhood she quickly sought to cover herself not just from the cold but his gaze, as his eyes were only a few inches away from her most sensitive area.

She should have ran, should have stopped his advances, but truly there was no reservation within her that he did not already own every fiber of her being. He had her from the moment she met his mischievous gaze, beside the fireplace that day seemingly so long ago. They were destined to remain with one another, a very conviction they both seemed to understand. These physical acts were merely a way at demonstrating their devotion to one another. Damn the rules, they both broke every rules around them always. What’s one more in the name of such a love?

He carefully laid his cheek along her stomach, her hands preventing him from closing the gap between his face and her womanhood. As he gazed up at her, eyes darker than she thought imaginable, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he planned to do. He seemed to be allowing her to guide him to whatever boundary she desired. And while she was enticed seeing him still at her feet in such a manor, she was taking her time to become comfortable giving herself to him.

Being so close to her heat, Sebastian could smell her arousal, and it was slowly feeding his own. From the moment he’d spoken with her that evening along the wall, about a future together, he had maintained a slight strain in his briefs. When she had danced before him, that feeling grew more intense. Now having her looking down upon her, unclothed, still wearing that semi-ridiculous crown he felt the intensity of his own erection threatening to burst out. He wanted to see her, feel her, and even though it was vulgar he wanted to taste her.

Sebastian allowed her to take her time. He simply laid his head against her, continuing to breathe her in as she grew comfortable with the image of him half nude on his knees in front of her. His fingers wound around to her backside, slowly tracing patterns on her soft curves. If she was paying attention she would have realized those patterns weren’t aimless, as he traced the word “mine” into the skin of her ass.

Eventually she unwound one hand from guarding her sacredness. She carefully brought her fingers into his hair, hoping to calm the storm raging inside. He groaned against her, as her nails scraped along his scalp. Sebastian continued looking into her eyes, and without even having to say the words he felt their soft exchange through their expressions.

“Please allow me to make you feel good” his eyes plead

“I trust you” hers responded as she let go, allowing him to finally see her up close.

He nearly lost his composure seeing such forbidden fruit right before his eyes. Ever so carefully he moved a hand to lightly trace the skin of her inner thigh. Her breath caught in her throat as he continued the slow torture of quiet gasps and soft touches.

Dragging his gaze back up to her, he carefully whispered out, “so beautiful” with a choked sob before he placed his lips on her.

Her hips bucked involuntarily at the feeling of his warm mouth against her lower curls. Slowly sliding her legs apart, he shifted between them to lick a testing stripe along her slit. As he did so, her slick arousal coated his tongue and he found himself moaning into her womanhood at the taste.

While he initially was gentle, after one small sip, he dived into her, lapping as if he was a man wandering the desert. She felt herself slowly trembling at the ministrations of his tongue on her sex, legs going weak. If his strong arms weren’t holding her upright she surely would’ve fallen over.

He continued to use his mouth on her in any way possible. He licked along her entrance and tasted every drop she provided for him. When his tongue finally found her pearl he brought his lips around it, lightly sucking on her clitorus as she cried out, hands tightening into his hair, pulling his face closer to her heat.

At her involuntary reaction he groaned around her, the vibrations becoming too much for her to bear. She looked down at him one last time before falling over an edge she didn’t even know she was standing upon. As she did so, her legs buckled and he did his best to keep her upright as his tongue continued to prod her entrance through her orgasm. Her unintentional aggression towards him , paired with the sounds she made, was enough to send him barreling after her. His cock twitched inside his trousers as he coated his underwear with his own seed. When she finally came down he softly lowered her onto the bed, dropping his head to her lap as he pulled back.

When she stopped seeing the stars she looked down at him. With red cheeks and her arousal coating his mouth and chin he looked absolutely divine. He smiled at her, carefully dragging a finger around to collect her own wetness from her now swollen opening before placing it in his mouth. Licking the remains from his lips, he sighed.

“You taste heavenly” he told her as she carefully brushed a weary hand through his curls.

She blushed at his words, feeling the need to cover herself, but she restrained realizing if he was willing to do such an act there’s no reason to cover now.

“I may require guidance to return the favor” she said shyly, gesturing in the darkness towards him. Sebastian laughed against her skin enjoying the way her fingers lovingly toyed with his hair. Of all the ways he had felt her deft fingers in his locks, this moment was now his favorite.

“That won’t be necessary love” he said with a chuckle, turning his face to kiss her other wrist.

“Of course it is… I understand that there’s a give and a take to these matters…” she tried to explain but he shook his head, before slowly standing.

Ever so carefully he lifted her wrist to place a delicate hand over the wet spot on his trousers. Her face went from confusion to recognition as she felt his cum through the material. Oh.

“But… how..?” She asked, realizing she hadn’t even touched him directly. Sebastian shrugged before he leaned in closer to her.

“I really enjoyed making you feel good I suppose” he spoke as he looked into her eyes. For a brief second he swore he could see hearts in them as she sighed.

Carefully she lifted a hand to cup his cheek before she responded “you beautiful, selfless, man”

He let out a soft chuckle at her kind words, his nose carefully caressing her own lovingly as he nuzzled her soft skin. Sebastian gave her a gentle peck before pulling the both of them down to lay down on the bed. She found herself smiling at the unique lingering taste of her on his lips as he kissed her slowly.

After a few moments basking in the afterglow together, he rose to his elbow to gaze down at her. He carefully brushed a hand over the few strands of hair escaping her slowly slipping bun before sliding off the bed. He knew if he was to sleep in the same bed as her, he should have the decency to change his briefs since sleeping in the nude may be too much of a line to cross now.

Carefully he slipped out of their half of the tent, making his way over to where his belongings were on the other side. As he approached the room he knew contained his sister and his oldest friend he worried about barging in unannounced, but also felt awkward about raising his voice in case they were asleep.

When he found himself directly in front of the flap he was met with the relieving sound of their hushed whispers. Unable to prevent himself from ease dropping he listened to their quiet voices for a moment.

“I can’t believe he transformed my good pocket square into a flower” Ominis chuckled softly and Sebastian remembered that he had in fact ruined his friends possession.

“I will make sure he replaces it, I promise” he heard his sister respond with a sigh.

There was a beat of silence and Sebastian found himself almost taking that as a good opportunity to announce himself but he stopped at Ominis’s voice.

“Was Sebastian really weeping during the ballet?” He asked, no malice in his tone, merely curiousity.

“I wouldn’t call it weeping… more like tears of joy perhaps… like being moved to such extremes in the face of something beautiful. Like how a man may cry at the birth of his child.” Anne explained, and Sebastian found himself thankful his sister attempted to explain what she observed in a way that would exonerate him of being weak.

“That is surprising. I never imagined Sebastian of all people to feel such adoration for another… not that I see him as incapable of those feelings, its just…” Ominis trailed off unsure how to explain his thoughts on the matter, worried he would say something to upset Anne on the status of her Twin’s love affair.

“I think I understand what you mean… the intensity to which it is apparent they feel for each other is shocking I suppose. It reminds me of our parents in a way” Anne replied taking his hand into her own, fingers carefully tracing the callouses on his palm from constantly holding his wand to guide him.

Sebastian felt himself surprised knowing his twin saw the same love his parents held for each other in his own feelings towards the new 5th year. It made him feel as if they’d be proud of him.

“Do you think they will… move forward with things in the near future?” Ominis asked cautiously.

“Perhaps” Anne replied, pondering what Ominis was asking. They had both heard his confession the day outside with Solomon, and had witness their share of moments where even the blind boy could practically see the love rolling off the pair.

“I selfish part of me hopes they do” Anne spoke softly into her lap as Ominis raised a questioning brow at her, confused why she wanted her brother to move forward with such adult acts like engagements and marriage.

Sebastian also found himself leaning closer, curious. Anne felt her eyes blur a bit as she carefully swallowed a small lump in her throat before continuing.

“I don’t know how much time I have left… I want to…” she stopped for a moment to collect herself before she kept going. “I need to know Sebs is going to be happy. That he will have someone there for him when I am gone.”

“Don’t say that Annabel-“ Ominis found himself using her full name, not liking her train of thought. He didn’t like acknowledging her curse, same as the rest of their party, but knowing he may only have limited time with her was a painful reminder.

“I believe in their ability. I know if anyone can find a cure it is the two of them. But if they cannot… I just want the chance to see them both devote their lives to one another.” Anne said in a hushed tone. Sebastian felt a weight in his heart, having not realized that his sisters condition could lead to a place in which a vacancy existed during his important life moments.

Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from pushing back the flap of the tent, eyes glassed with tears as he startled the pair. Anne sat up, wand ready as she recognized her twin’s face in the darkness.

Sebastian rushed forward, forgetting the reason he was in there to begin with, forgetting the love of his life was waiting for him. Ignoring Ominis sitting to the right of them. As he brought Anne into his chest he heard her soft cries as she wound her arms around them. They had tried their best to ignore the direness of her illness for so long, to acknowledge it now felt frightening.

When she quickly recovered he found himself softly whispering into her hair “I promise you will be there to see that.” At his words she looked up at him, slightly grimly. For a moment she thought he was referring to his never ending search to find a cure.

“Sebs… I am not sure there is a cur-“ she began but he cut her off.

“I am not talking about finding a cure Anne.” He spoke defiantly.

Anne realized that he was confirming he would make sure to wed if she became worse off.

“You don’t have to… I don’t expect you to rush into a commitment like that on my behalf.” She worried that she may push the pair together faster at her declining health.

“Anne… I would marry her tomorrow if I could figure out the logistics. But I would do so in a heartbeat to make sure you can be there.” He said and she found herself nodding. Sebastian let his sister go, navigating towards his bag he brought back from school.

He was worried that she would begin to worry at his absence, and didn’t want his sister realizing there was still a mess in his trousers…

“It’s Christmas. Let’s just try to focus on being together, and we can figure out the rest tomorrow, a’right?” He asked, collecting some clothes, before lingering by the entrance.

Anne nodded, returning to Ominis’s side. Sebastian watched as his friend cautiously lifted a hand to place it on his sisters. He smiled, realizing they too were operating on possible limited time.

“Take care of her Ominis.” He said, giving his friend the permission the Gaunt boy had been struggling to ask for since he grew attached to the girl.

Sebastian didn’t need to hear the boys reply, so he merely stepped back and snuffed out the fire in the main room.

When he returned, he found his love laying on her side, curled up along the foot of the bed. Shrugging his pants and briefs off he carefully used a wet cloth to wash himself before sliding on fresh underclothes. Bringing the same cloth, he carefully turned her over enough to help wash away the mess on her womanhood.

As he did so, she carefully cracked an eye open. She slid her legs open more as he continued to clean her to the best of his ability before dropping the cloth to the floor. She sleepily leaned up as he undid the pins holding the diadem to her head, carefully placing it on the floor, before helping her to let down her hair.

As it tumbled free, covering her shoulders and breasts he sighed. He was always surprised how she continued to look more and more beautiful in his eyes.

Sebastian helped lift her sleepy arms up enough to work the sleep shirt he brought onto her form. He figured that she’d be comfortable in his clothes, as his size would turn a simple shirt into a dress on her small body. As he slid it over her, she smiled, feeling enveloped in his earthy smell.

Ever so carefully he helped her slide under the covers, so she would easily be able to slip back into her slumber. Joining her, he brought an arm up to pull her against his body. When she snuggled backwards into him he smiled, thinking about his conversation with Anne. That night he found sleep difficult as he pondered the logistics of addressing the topic.

As he finally drifted off to sleep, he decided his best course of action to be a lengthy conversation with Solomon, and for once he wasn’t concerned about the outcome…

To be continued…

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow/reader #ominis gaunt #fluff #anne sallow #ominis x anne #smut

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handmemyshovel · 10 months

Text

imagine: horatio, stuck in a never-ending play.

the first go around it’s normal. he doesn’t realize he is in a play, this is just life as it always is. he is coming from college to see his friend and his father’s funeral. but horatio notices the chaos that seems almost staged. but he doesn’t think too much of anything unusual, this is life as it always is! just… chaotic. sad. a friend in pain but what can he do about it? thinking of it… maybe he brought his own friend into this madness, into his death. and as fortinbras steps in and the stage goes dark, horatio is suddenly swept back in time. back to that night.

it’s the second play, but horatio doesn’t know it. he looks at bernardo and marcellus, wondering how he got here. notices how they repeat the exact words that happened nights ago, horatio responds with what seems natural. he says the same things too. and it all repeats. horatio is filled with fear and confusion as it all repeats itself. he tries to piece things together. if all this is happening does that mean hamlet will appear again too? back from the dead? he suggests letting hamlet speak to the ghost and marcellus and bernardo don’t mention anything of the prince’s death. he is still alive then? was it all just a horrible dream? but if it was, why are things going exactly like what happened in that nightmare? why is horatio’s one best friend lying dead in his arms again? why is no one doing anything to stop this? in his confusion he only plays along, unable to comprehend what is happening around him.

until he is taken to that night again. on the spot horatio almost breaks into tears. god, why is he here again? take him away from this nightmare. but there he stays. this time he decides to pay more attention to what’s happening. he makes sure that everything is as remembered, and it is.

he pieces things together in his mind. he realizes that between scenes he would be on stage he has an extremely fuzzy memory of what happened. he realizes that when he tries to say something different than what his head tells him to it doesn’t come out. he can only say what is written. sure, he can change the tone, he can delay the line, but he always says it. another thing he can do is change his actions — as long as it doesn’t mess with how the play is being acted out as it causes him quite literal pain to do so. he does those things as much as he can. he delays lines, tries to say certain lines as if he doesn’t mean them. (e.g. he suggests hamlet speaks to the ghost in a sarcastic or unconvincing manner, gets on his knees begging and clinging onto hamlet for him not to speak to the ghost/duel laertes) another thing horatio makes sure to do is take every word hamlet speaks in. he’s heard it all multiple times now, but it means something, it means something. the words hamlet says to him before his death. horatio knows what’s to come, so why not make the good parts better?

the fourth go around, horatio tries the hardest he can to change what is happening around him. he’s in the flow now and trying to get out of it. it’s his primary goal. but the more he tries, the more he seems to be going mad with hamlet, and ophelia, and about everyone else.

and nothing is changed, not the fourth, the fifth, the sixth go around. hours and hours of the same thing, horatio can’t take it. no one could possibly take it. as hamlet speaks of the longing of death, horatio now understands and agrees. but of course, he could never say that to hamlet, he must encourage him, even if nothing is changed in the effort.

but in the seventh play horatio gives up in trying to change things. he says each line emotionless. his energy in every action is drained. he can’t take it anymore, he simply can’t. whenever he sees hamlet, he is attached to him like a leech. he can’t let go of the man. every time hamlet talks of death he weeps onto him, every line horatio delivers filled with tears, and what does it matter? nothing is changed.

finally, finally, on the eighth play horatio gives up. entirely. he delays each line as much as possible, pursing his lips until his own body forces the words out breathlessly, denying an action until the overwhelming pain of doing so, too, forces him to do it. under his breath he will mumble the lines of others that he now has memorized from the endless times he has already heard them. every death brings him sobbing, collapsing on the floor. he’ll think: “it must be my fault, i always bring hamlet to the ghost, i always bring him in the picture. i make him mad, but i can’t do otherwise, i can’t. and all this harm… i cannot get away from it, i just want away from it. i just want happiness again. for hamlet, for me, for us all.” horatio knows at this point that no matter how hard he tries, nothing will change. and if he doesn’t take action, he’ll be stuck in this hell forever. so, when it comes to the last scene, he knows what he must do.

hamlet is begging in his arms for horatio to tell his story, but horatio can’t do that. he can’t. it’s a horrible way to go out, denying the dying wish of his love, but he can’t do otherwise. he has already tried to change things and he can’t take it anymore. he drinks the poison. and in doing so there is so much pain. the pain of rejecting the play’s reality. but he ignores the aching he has in every muscle, in his head, everything feeling like it’s about to explode. he ignores it. and he drinks the poison. he ends the play. he doesn’t tell the story. horatio finally gets his rest. and, god, he deserves it.

#i did not mean for this to be so long but i got carried away #oh and no one else knows its a play btw #I hate to bring harm to my blorbo but just imagine it #and imagine putting other characters through it...#sorry i will never capitalize shit #hamlet #horatio #brainrot #someone shut me up!

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no6secretsanta · 5 months

Text

Tonight's Mood

From: ren @minamiren

To: @bee-archivist https://www.tumblr.com/bee-archivist

The sky is grey, and there are no stars, and it is raining.

Shion had gone outside about an hour ago as the water had dripped sluggishly down the stairs, carrying mud and sludge down into the library entrance. The rain wasn’t heavy—nothing like that storm in which he’d met Nezumi—but the drizzle was cold and oppressive, wetting his bangs against his forehead and seeping into his clothes.

The dull rain left a haze over the horizon, covering the existence of any stars that might have otherwise shown. It had already been well past midnight, even then, and Nezumi hadn’t come home yet.

Nezumi often does not come home until late, and it has been made clear to him that Shion isn’t to concern himself with Nezumi’s comings and goings, but something about tonight feels different. Something in the air. Shion sits on the couch and watches the door, trying to ignore the exhaustion tugging at his eyelids and making his head swim. He is not good at getting less than the required amount of sleep.

Hamlet runs in circles, and Cravat curls into an uneasy ball on the table. The mice are acting off, too—maybe picking up on Shion’s mood. Maybe they’re the reason he realized something was wrong in the first place. He couldn’t be sure. Doesn’t remember anymore.

Shion’s ears catch the sound of something shifting outside—footsteps in the mud, out of sync enough to be heard even over the mind-numbing drizzle of the rain. He feels proud of noticing in the moment, although Nezumi would likely simply laugh at him, having heard the approaching figure ages before.

Still, the steps most likely belong to one person.

Shion rises off the couch, stumbling a bit as he makes his way over to the door. He opens it just as Nezumi approaches, hand tucked into his shirt for the key he keeps strung around his neck.

Nezumi frowns at him as he stuffs the key back into his shirt, displeased. “You didn’t know that was me,” he accuses, although his heart doesn’t seem into it. Something in his voice feels…empty. “Why do I go through so much effort to keep you alive when you offer yourself up on a silver platter to anyone who wants you otherwise?”

“The chances were good enough that it was you over anyone else that the risk was worth it,” Shion says simply, frowning as Nezumi shoves past him and into the library, trailing muddy footsteps. He’s not usually so rough, nor so careless with how he tracks into their living space. For a rat, he likes to keep things from becoming unduly filthy.

Shion wanders after him, rounding the corner into the library to see Nezumi shucking off his boots, leaving them where they fall and rising from the couch, only to collapse face-first into his bed.

“Nezumi?” Shion asks hesitantly, after several moments of nothing but labored breathing from where Nezumi’s face was smothered in the dirty pillow.

There isn’t an immediate response. Then, “Not tonight, Shion.” His voice sounds tired to a degree that worries Shion, but it also makes him want to listen.

Shion stands there quietly for a bit, over Nezumi, wondering how Nezumi could simply ignore him when his energy is usually so frantic, so alert, to the point that he’d never leave his body open to the whims of someone standing above him. Three days ago, he tripped Shion and nearly dislocated his arm for startling him. His reflexes had been amazing, Shion had asked him four separate times to repeat the move for him later. This Nezumi…it is almost like he isn’t even here.

Finally, Shion gets ready for bed.

The morning dawns still grey and drizzling and wet, and Nezumi wakes Shion up by shoving a mop and bucket at him and telling him to get cleaning before his shift with Inukashi. Shion laughs as he accepts the bucket willingly, not minding the work—especially not when Nezumi seems to have come to life again.

———

Shion had thought it was a one-time event, but it wasn’t.

Sometimes Nezumi comes home sad.

It’s not anything drastically different than his usual moods, except it still feels like it is. There’s something subtle about it, a dark cloud a shade too black over all of his movements.

On these nights he doesn’t cook, doesn’t clean, doesn’t read. Doesn’t do anything. He stalks through the library past everything and gets in bed, just like that, no matter how filthy his clothes are, and then he doesn’t leave.

The first time it had happened, Shion thought it was a simple bad mood. The second time, Shion thought he was sick. After that, he realized that there was something different going on.

———

“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” Inukashi tells him when Shion asks, feeling a bit guilty to be talking about Nezumi to anyone behind his back, but Inukashi is one of Shion’s few connections that aren’t Nezumi himself. “Just goes off the rails for a night or a few days, disappears, misses practice sometimes. Gets away with it by being the best we’ve got here.”

“So he’s not ill?”

Inukashi waves Shion off. “Just a mood. He always snaps out of it. Now keep working, I’m not paying you to waste soap.”

Shion nods and goes back to the German Shepherd that he’d been washing.

———

The weather is nice tonight. On nights like this, with clear skies and a beautiful view of the walls of No. 6, Nezumi likes to sit outside and watch. Shion believes that he likes to imagine what he’ll do to the city when it finally falls, the way he believes.

When Nezumi comes in before twilight is more than a few minutes past, Shion looks up from his book curiously. When Nezumi falls onto the couch and doesn’t move, Shion realizes what is happening.

For the first time, he has the thought to do something about it.

Shion approaches slowly, cautiously. Nezumi is always unresponsive and uncaring in these moods, but he knows better than to antagonize the man unnecessarily. It won’t end well for him.

When Nezumi fails to respond to his approach, Shion settles onto the couch next to his shoulder, frowning down at him. Nezumi faces the back of the couch, his legs pulled up under him in what strikes Shion as a shockingly vulnerable position. Shion feels his hip brush the back of Nezumi’s shoulder, but Nezumi doesn’t move. “I’ve heard of things like this, in class,” Shion ventures. “Safu was better at neurological issues and chemical imbalances, but—“

“Saying my head is fucked up, Shion?” Nezumi laughs hoarsely, tilting his head just enough to look up at Shion out of the corner of his eye. “I thought we were well past establishing that.”

Shion shakes his head. “No, I’m saying that at home, my mom was like this, back when I was a top student. Before—“

Before Nezumi.

Shion shakes his head, recovers. “She was tired all the time, and sad, and she was happy for me but never had the energy for anything other than being sad. My failing out of the program helped her, in a way. She always said people brought her life.”

“I perform in front of hundreds at a time,” Nezumi says acerbically. “I doubt more people are going to do anything other than making me want to start bashing heads in more than I wanted to before.”

“No, but…maybe one person?”

Nezumi rolls his eyes, returns to his previous position staring at the back of the couch cushions, but he doesn’t say no. Doesn’t push Shion off the couch or yell. Maybe he doesn’t have the energy to. Maybe he simply is waiting to see what Shion has planned.

Shion is waiting to see what he has planned too, just a bit.

He leans over to Nezumi’s feet, loosens the laces of his boots. Nezumi’s shoulders tense when he starts, but slowly loosen back up. When he finishes, he tugs the mud-crusted boots off of Nezumi’s feet and tosses them to the floor. He shucks off his own shoes, then fits himself onto the couch behind Nezumi.

He’s forced to tuck close in order to fit on the couch, his knees bending into the curve of Nezumi’s. His arm goes around Nezumi’s waist from behind, and Shion tucks his nose against the back of Nezumi’s neck, not bothered by the low ponytail tickling him.

The whole time he positions himself, Nezumi stays stiff as a board. But when Shion finally falls still, Nezumi lays his hand over Shion’s arm, long fingers gripping around his wrist.

“You expect a hug to fix things?” Nezumi asks, and it seems like he’s trying to sound acidic, but his voice shakes just a bit too much to hit the mark.

Shion shakes his head against the back of Nezumi’s neck, glad his smile is hidden from Nezumi’s view. “No, just trying to prove you’re not alone,” he says instead. “I don’t think things are going to be fixed. But this isn’t terrible, is it?”

A long silence. Shion finds himself focusing on Nezumi’s warmth, on how it feels to hold a warm body against his chest. It’s nicer than he might have expected, and it comes to his own attention that this is his first time doing anything like this with someone. He likes it, thinks he would like to do it more often—especially if Nezumi is the one he’s able to do it with.

Nezmui’s fingers tighten around his wrist, then let go. He turns all the way over, shoving his body in such a way that nearly shoves Shion off the couch entirely. Nezumi grabs him at the waist, pulls him close just so that he doesn’t topple off the edge.

Nezumi settles down a moment later, letting go of Shion’s hip, leaving a brand of heat where he’d grabbed. Shion wraps his arm back around Nezumi’s waist; the move feels far more intimate when they’re facing each other than it had when Nezumi had been resolutely pretending that he hadn’t been there.

“No,” Nezumi finally says, shocking Shion out of his momentary stupor.

“No?” Shion repeats, a bit stupidly. Nezumi’s eyes are not often so close to his—they’re a gorgeous grey, Shion thinks.

“No, this is not so terrible,” Nezumi reiterates. “Going to soothe me physically, until I forget my worries, city boy?”

The words are teasing, an entendre that even Shion can catch, but he finds himself reacting to them anyway. He leans in, catches Nezumi’s hips in a clumsy kiss. His lips are softer than expected, although maybe he should’ve known—Eve always takes care of her appearance. Shion pulls back a moment later, smiling wryly.

“Not what you expected?” he asks.

Nezumi looks a little bit shocked, but his recovery is quick enough. He raises his hand to cradle Shion’s jaw, push back into his white hair. Uses the leverage to pull Shion into another kiss.

This one is sweeter.

Nezumi pulls back and grins. “No, but I wouldn’t complain if you knocked me out of my moods like this more often,” he teases.

Shion is tugged to his feet by Nezumi, dragged to the bed, and bundled in. In a reverse of their position from earlier, Nezumi shoves Shion down first before manhandling him into a spooning position, Shion tucked up against Nezumi’s chest.

“You have my permission to do this when I need it,” Nezumi mutters finally, right as Shion is finally falling asleep. Shion nods sleepily.

————

Nezumi doesn’t have the moods often, but when he does—when he tracks mud through the library and collapses onto the nearest surface that he can pass out on—he isn’t alone anymore. Now Shion is there, to get into bed with him, to hold him, sometimes to kiss him when Nezumi permits it.

The moments are quiet and stolen and peaceful and theirs.

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #minamiren #bee-archivist

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katyspersonal · 2 years

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Simon the Harrowed for 6, 8, 9 of the headcannon ask list 🙏

(Asks from this ( x ) ask meme)

It took me a long while sorry! I kept forgetting every time :т Under cut because three questions is a crowd sduhfds

6) Psychological headcanons (tastes, fears, talents, regrets, how they deal with anger, just anything that comes to mind on the topic)

Simon has a bit of kleptomaniac streak to him. Well, not a bit. He just tends to steal some things from people he likes. It is a habit he developed upon early realising people leave his life too fast and he has nothing to remind him of them left.

He has a bad habit of doing nothing to help himself - doesn't talk about his pain and fears until they spill on their own, doesn't develop healthy habits to heal from psychological traumas sooner, perhaps doesn't even treat his physical wounds properly. Without realising it, he is the type to wait for someone capable and responsible to come and "save" him. In a sad way, this 'helpless' attitude prepared him for his eventual miserable fate in advance! He suffers a lot, but at the same time it is "normal" for him!

His curiosity has always been stronger than his fears, however he developed special exception for anything that has to do with Brador. Simon had anxious awakenings in cold sweat after nightmares about him even long before he knew a darn thing about Fishing Hamlet.

Even hitting his 30s he still never tried dating or had a crush he'd recognise. Ludwig was the closest he got to 'that' feeling but that faded quick as he was too huge, too unattainable figure anyway. When his friends confront him about why they never seen him with anyone he starts mumbling about just being lazy and/or probably having too high standards. This... might juuuust be true. Easily he might need a person who likes showing initiative too much. Very much. You need to be EXTRA persistent to get his heart to do the heart thing already, but it is hard to meet such person while being very shy and quiet.

He is very decent at designing and engineering, didn't need any help to blueprint Bowblade that was eventually crafted by his design. Had it not been for his distaste for firearms, he'd have individually invented enough weapons to rival Powder Kegs! He just takes a single glance at the device and just knows how it works.

Picky eater and likes almost nothing, he will die but NOT eat food that isn't tasty for him, guaranteed to like chocolate, potatoes and bread though. Not any sort of special bakery, just a regular bread. Again, ironically this habit prepared him for how much Yharnam got devastated by famine eventually.

Has frustratingly sharp hearing, especially during night time. He will not be able to sleep if there is at least some sort of noise around because even quiet sounds cut his ears and cause him a headache. You really do not want to sleep anywhere near him, he'll complain you breathe too loudly or something!

8) Made-up connections with other characters that weren’t in the canon (friends, enemies, whatever)

Sirus (Djura's Apprentice) - @majitek once suggested that they are twin brothers since they share face data and I believe it tbh. They are type of twins that have nothing in common - you know, to the ridiculous point of drawing the 'border' line in their shared room with both sides of it looking like complete opposites XD They tend to have different opinions and might argue about them for literal hours, Simon having preference for quiet stealth weapons and aesthetic of the 'holiness' vs his brother loving noise of explosions and practical weapons is not even their final form. They never had a genuine quarrel though - if one gets ridiculed, another will stick out for him even if he can't agree less. The "/You/ can't bully him, only /I/ can bully him!" kind of deal.

Gratia - I only mentioned it 10000 times yet, but I do think they were friends, needless to mention Simon has Fist of Gratia equipped that he never used! Whereas Simon was laughed at for his bowblade, Gratia was feared for her iron fists and blunt approach, so she did not hesitate to use her imposing presence to ward the "bullies" away from Simon. They get along very well as Simon is neither scared nor repulsed because of her antics (he knows true repulsion is beyond being rude and abrasive, and true fear is beyond just smashing walls with raw physical force). Gratia... well, she doesn't understand half of his smart philosophical ramblings, but she knows he has a good heart and this is what counts. Opposites that balance rather than fight.

Yamamura - Simon instantly spots a person that only pretends to be oblivious in him when Yamamura casually decides to stay and join Healing Church hunters, however he never minds a spy sent by "the League" because he likewise suspects Church is hiding secrets. Yamamura, Simon and Gratia make sort of a detectives team but whereas Yamamura and Simon share a lot in common (troubled world vision, adoration of Ludwig, sentimentality, emotional sensitivity that doesn't promise a very long-lasting hunter, ability to play a fool to win more trust and information...), Gratia sits here and doesn't know what these nerds are on about. However, without her interference these two would end up feeding each others' depression too much -_-'

Caryll - Aunt of Simon and Sirus who was separated from them for most of her life, and who they saught returning in Yharnam after catastrophe in the city they stayed at. Sirus was semi-indifferent but Simon dreamed about reuniting with her. Seemed like it was going to work after they both became staff of Healing Church but unfortunately by that point Caryll had too many secrets to keep, and to keep the distance with the twins for their own safety. She considered it "unfortunate" that as her surgery chipped away from her lifespan she could not even spent these years in warmth of family. But, she knew Simon's curiosity was unstoppable and she was proud of him for that, so she still left secret clues and letters for him to find (preferably after she is gone) that played part in Simon getting further in his research and even deciphering secret behind Clocktower, which she helped to build.

(In the draft, she was their older sister instead, but got a generational level-up in headcanons as I reconsidered some timeline things!)

Brador - Yeah it doesn't really count as 'weren't in canon' but I think it is worth to mention I think they were familiar from long ago. He always gave Simon a bad vibe and he especially disliked that he kept being around Caryll (not aware Brador just kept an extra eye on her so familial feelings don't get her to spill Byrgenwerth's secrets until much later). Simon and Brador kept meeting but there always been a tension; Brador kept dropping hints for Simon to not poke his nose beyond his work and Simon kept being too evasive for Brador to figure out how much of a threat Simon is.

9) Headcanons about their past

Caryll and her older sister, Simon's and Sirus' mother, were born in Yharnam and had ancestry amongst witches of Hemwick; her sister however decided on a more drastic way to disconnect from her "barbaric" roots and moved in neighbouring town altogether. This is where the twins were born and lived, only seeing Caryll sometimes, and then almost never after she enrolled in Byrgenwerth.

Their mother got sick and died yet not even then Caryll could visit - this is how Sirus was done with her, Simon wasn't though, he had a hunch there must be a good reason for such callous gesture. Brothers were left to keep growing with a father that became very negligent after it.

After Byrgenwerth's findings and experiments there was a meteorite shower in the area signifying return of the star Kin and Amygdalas, caused by their rituals, what they were awakening. Whereas Yharnam got barely a shake (and Gehrman even was able to create some weapons from small meteorites), the city where Simon and Sirus were at got destroyed. Their dad could not be found and was presumed dead, so Simon encouraged searching for the only family they still had. He only learned of the reason behind meteorites much, much later though.

When they were little, Sirus was the one making friends with ease but Simon struggled so his brother was his gateway to socialising, taking him for gatherings and introducing him to his squads. Unfortunately, his squads often ended up dumping both Simon and Sirus, and it has a very simple explanation - Sirus' friends always were pretty sketchy, and Simon had a bad habit to uncover their shady antics and "ruin everything". In a way, he has a lifelong history of saving Sirus from bad company by just being himself.

This ended up causing conflict between brothers when Sirus wanted to follow Powder Kegs and become Djura's apprentice, because "When have you EVER got involved with good people?!". Well, just this time, Simon was wrong, he later got to see himself Djura was a nice guy.

#bloodborne #simon the harrowed #simon seeker of the secrets #bloodborne headcanons #ask replies #ask meme #fandomry rambles

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diggysstuff · 3 months

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I know you.

Of course, within our minutes, hours, days, and weeks spent together, I’ve learned so much about you. I learned that you are repulsed by ranch dressing, and that you’re getting a new job soon because you hate the sushi place you work at. I learned that you broke your finger after a dodgeball tournament because you were sad you lost, and one time you peed your pants because you were so excited to see Hamlet. I learned that you are on a quest to find Mario Super Sluggers for the Wii, and that last semester you finally started charging money for your music.

I know these things about you, I’ve paid attention, and I keep track. You don’t have to do the same for me, and it’s unfair to expect you to.

I know that you started smoking when you were twelve after you got kicked out of your parent’s house. I know you got those cigarettes from the 7th grade girl who was being groomed by a twenty-something year old man. I know you wish you could quit, you’ve tried and failed, and that it is the worst mistake of your life. I know no matter how much you hate the idea of me being around cigarettes, you still find it sweet that I do, and always let me light it for you.

I don’t know what’s going on with you now. My brain can’t help but wander to conclusions, and come up with reasons why you feel you can’t talk to me anymore.

Was I not your type? Was I too much or too little? Are you alone? Are you with someone new? Are you with your ex again? Is this the anniversary of your exes miscarriage? Is this when she started hitting you? Is this time of year hard for you? Did you lose someone close to you? Did you lose some weight? Have you been eating right? Have you been happy? When do you come back to Boston?

Can I see you again?

…

No response yet, but that’s okay.

I don’t expect you to know me like I know you, or love me like I love you, or care for me like I care for you. I won’t tell you I’m worried about you, just like you asked. I won’t let you know how much I think about you, and how badly I yearn for you. I won’t share that now I do five pushups every time I think of you, and that I’ve done 205 in the last three days.

I’m here for you if you want me to be. I promised you I would be. I’ll still make you blondies if you want me to. We can make them together if you’d like, I know cooking is your love language.

#poetry #writing #i love you #i miss you #queer yearning #love language #cigarette #be gentle #drafts #boston #brighton #cambridge #I love them #I miss them

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fictional-actors-bracket · 7 months

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Round 1B.2

Propaganda under the cut

Tobias Funke: "He's a sad, pathetic man who blue himself."

Mark Cardigan: "An actor whose swashbuckler films, judging by the swordfight clip we see, are the in-universe equivalent of Errol Flynn's films--but while kind of a dick at times Mark is FAR more likeable than Flynn. Not just because he's played by Vincent Price but because of his character arc in the film. While Mark does seem to enjoy the films he does, as he is shown watching them and applauding enthusiastically whenever he does something cool, he also knows they aren't taken seriously and wants something more--in particular, he wants to be a real hero. Luckily for him, he finds himself caught up in a film noir plot involving murderous gangsters. He immediately charges into the action enthusiastically, excited about getting to fight real bad guys--and in the process manages to completely change the genre of the film from noir to action comedy (bear in mind he was a minor character for the first hour, and now halfway through the film has just completely taken over the plot). While overconfident and reckless enough to make a couple of embarrassing mistakes, he turns out to be genuinely very good in combat, killing several of the gangsters and saving the protagonist's life--much to the surprise of everyone who assumed he was an idiot with no idea what he was doing. By the end of the film he has proved he really is capable of being brave and heroic, and is satisfied enough with having achieved something genuine that he's now ALSO willing to give the protagonist the credit HE deserves, which the Mark Cardigan we meet early in the film who's so desperate to be admired by people would likely not have done. Best moments:Mark Cardigan : [Preparing to go out and rescue the protagonist, also grinning quite maniacally] Now might I drink hot blood and do such bitter business the earth would quake to look upon! Helen Cardigan : [Rolling eyes] 'Hamlet' again... Gerald Hobson [his manager]: Mark, this is no time for histrionics. Mark Cardigan : [Scoffing] What fools ye mortals be.

also

Dan Milner [the protagonist] : I'm too young to die, how about you? Mark Cardigan: Too well-known."

#his kind of woman #mark cardigan #Arrested Development #tobias funke #actors bracket

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leuchtstabrebell · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 13 / Prompt: Infection

This year, November arrived wet and grey and suddenly, and it brought harsh winds and rain with it. Peter spends his time rushing from his flat to work and back to his flat. He still hasn’t mastered that rain-shield spell, and he won’t ask Sirius to explain it to him again. Rather, he has followed Maud’s example and bought himself a raincoat and a new umbrella, like a normal person.

He spends a lot of time digging graves. The war does not care about the weather.

There are more and more deaths each week, growing mountains of corpses. Every day he wakes up afraid that someone he knows has been added to their number. The only positive he can think of is the fact that more bodies to bury means more funeral rites which means more money for him. He has finally been able to afford a new fridge, one that’s actually reliable.

The ground is still soft enough to dig without too much exhaustion, though muddy and slippery. These days, there is a lot of dirt under fingernails and bruises on his sickly-pale skin from falling.

He has felt a cold coming for days. At his muggle job, half of his co-workers have the flue. Maud couldn’t come to work for over two weeks due to a particularly nasty case of it, and he spent half of the time missing her and the other half denying that fact. It’s boring without her. It’s darker without her.

Peter wakes up one morning with a sore throat and his whole body weak. He just about manages to call in sick and make himself a cuppa before he stumbles back into bed and pulls the covers over his head.

It’s never been this bad, he thinks to himself. Everything hurts.

He has this exact same reaction every year. Rationally, he knows that it’s not any worse than the other times he has been sick, and that a common cold is nothing to whine about. Irrationally, poor Peter Pettigrew might have the hardest fate in all of Great Britain. Or at least in all of Tower Hamlets.

Sirius arrives late that evening and finds Peter pathetically sniffling on the sofa, where he has heaved his body a few hours ago and has not moved since. He has wrapped a blanket around himself and there are pain meds scattered on the table.

“Are you sick?” he asks.

Peter glares at him. “Yes,” he croaks. “Obviously.”

“Ugh.” Sirius kicks off his boots, as usual, flinging mud all over the hallway and vanishes into the bathroom without another word.

The next days are even worse. His aching throat is joined by a rattling cough and a fever that won’t go down no matter what he tries.

Peter has dozed off in the living room to the sound of the rain outside and is woken up by Sirius rummaging through the kitchen. Pots clanging against something, the thud of a glass put down too hard on a surface. Every little sound makes Peter want to jump out of his skin. He sighs and calls out to Sirius: “Hey! Can you stop destroying the kitchen equipment? I’m trying to sleep here.” The strain on his voice makes him wince and his lungs protest. There is a short pause, then more pots clanging. Sirius marches into the living room.

“You certainly seem to have enough air in your lungs to nag,” he says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter wheezes out before his body is shaken by another coughing fit.

“Oh, nothing,” Sirius says, staring at Peter.

“No, no, tell me,” Peter says, pissed. He feels his heartbeat speeding up.

“It’s just – for the past days, all you’ve been doing is complaining about how hard everything is, and how sad you are, and what a poor lad you are,” Sirius responds and crosses his arms.

“Yeah, well, maybe it would be nice if my friends cared enough to at least check in with me once in a while. You haven’t even offered to make me a tea or anything.”

“You already drink like ten cups a day,” Sirius says and pouts. Man-child.

“It’s not about the tea!”

Sirius tenses his jaw. “Oh, I know. You want me to pity you, poor sick Peter. You know there’s a war going on, right?”

“No, Sirius, enlighten me,” Peter drawls, suppressing another coughing fit.

“While you’re here, complaining about a common cold, people are out there risking their lives. The friends who ‘don’t care about you’ are out there, fighting, dying, while your biggest problem is me cleaning the kitchen.”

“Fuck you,” Peter says, no longer shaking from the fever but from anger. “Why can’t you be a good friend for once? It’s great that you’re willing to throw your life away but don’t except the same insanity from me. And for once, just do the hard work and actually be there for your friends.”

You know that is why Remus left you, lies on his tongue. He swallows it down.

Sirius just stares at Peter, face unreadable. “You don’t get it. You think if you just close your eyes and pretend, everything will turn out fine. But it won’t.”

Peter open his mouth to respond but is stopped by another coughing fit so bad that his eyes start watering.

Something in Sirius’ gaze softens.

“I’ll get you another blanket,” he says.

#whumptober2023 #No.13 #Infection #Harry Potter #fic #death #war #peter pettigrew #peter and the great sorrow #sick whumpee

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niisandungeon · 1 year

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I'm taking part in the Dungeon23 challenge, with the theme for now being spelunking! It’s been super fun, although it’s hard to come up with so many rooms... Notes on the first floor of Celestial's Shelter below:

CELESTIAL’S SHELTER FLOOR 1

Near the remote hamlet of Loghaven exists a cave, known to locals as the Celestial’s Shelter. Most would steer clear of the caverns, but adventurers with a liking for tight places and hungry to uncover the fabled celestial sometimes explore the cave, some of them never to be seen again, for the caves go deep, and earth is unrelenting once it has its grip on you…

1. Entryway, nothing of note except a collapsed entrance to a cave to the east. Perhaps someone could squeeze through? 2. A room with a rockslide. There’s a years dead spelunker called “Ted” there, as well as their diary noting that they lost their best caving hat escaping “something or someone, deep in the caves”.

Entry 40

New town, new adventure! Loghaven smells of cow piss and has only one tavern, but it’s cozy enough. Lots of log houses, even more flies. Acorn says it’s a lot like his hometown, except taller. An old tiefling, Bebbe, they told us over drinks of a cave southeast of Loghaven, of caverns called Celestial’s Shelter. Apparently one of those got injured and went and died there hundreds of years ago, if local legend is to be believed. No one knows how or why, but, well, Ted and Acorn will go and get some answers, maybe find a celestial’s corpse to sell, and who knows, maybe we’ll see some sights dwarves only dream about!

Entry 41

After a day or so of trekking we found the entrance to the cave. Bebbe remembered the way well, even if he’d last been here as a child. Seems like there’s two other entryways closeby, as well as a drop from above if you’re willing to climb very high up, but we don’t know where that would lead, if it leads anywhere at all. All in all, it seems promising. It’s true what Acorn said as we were getting here though, it looks like not a lot of people come here. Suits us. I prefer Acorn’s company anyway.

Entry 42

All in all, excluding the bear scare, it’s been one of those safer trips. Not a bat, goblin or other cave dwelling creature in sight! Acorn tells me he’s heard someone breathing while I was asleep, but it’s just the wind howling through the cave. I just gotta find a way to distract him, that’s all, so that he won’t be so spooked anymore. It’s silly of me, but I want Acorn to feel safe as much as I want to discover that damn angel’s corpse. He’s been with me the longest out of all my old partners. Dare I say he even likes me? As friends, of course. Nothing more.

Entry 43

Nothing of note happened after we settled in deeper into the caverns. The room is just very, very wet. Acorn’s vigilant, just very jumpy. He saw some oozes, so we’re gonna avoid the rooms to our left, block them a bit with rocks or at least set them up so that we’ll be alerted if the slimy boogers get too close. Just when I said not a creature in sight. It’s never that easy, is it?

Entry 45

Damn it all! Fourth day, and I fell down and twisted my ankle on those slippery stairs. There goes our last healing salve! Acorn will do some solo exploring while I heal, but I can do some excavating on the western walls. There’s a small hole there I know I can make it large enough for both me and Acorn to pass. It’s strange. Even I've heard something from there. It sounds like weeping. Could it be our angel?

Entry 46

I got spooked by rockfall and lost my hat. That was my lucky caving hat! Gotta be more careful from now on. Acorn’s gonna be sad if all he finds is my crushed innards popping out from underneath a rock.

Entry 47

I have to admit it: Acorn is lost. It’s been a full day. I’m trying not to panic. He’s smaller than me, so he can fit into much smaller spaces, and well, we’re not some wizards so we don’t always know where we are, in caves like these. Still, I’m gonna wait for him for two more hours, and then go back into the caves to look for him. He’s one tough gnome. He has to be alive.

Last Entry, written in blood

Something follows

deep

I was fast, but the walls

it’s watching me die

unlucky

3. A bear cave’s entrance! 4. Where the bear sleeps! 5. Second, slightly more accessible entrance to 2., with pansies growing on the rocks. 6. A room greatly affected by the rockslide. There’s a chest with some items caught under the rocks… 7. Where Ted lost his hat. A room full of tight crawls, which seem to breathe with you if you enter… 8. A large cavernous room with a high ceiling. There are signs of a campfire here, although it hasn’t been used in a while… If you sleep here, it feels like someone is watching you. 9. An earthy smelling room. 10. A secret room with giant, edible mushrooms! They are delicious! 11. Narrow passages, leading to deeper parts of the caverns… Sometimes it sounds like someone is weeping far away, deeper in the tunnels. 12. Small room, with dried bloody footprints on the floor… 13. A larger passageway, with water flowing into it from somewhere. 14.-17. Part of a larger collection of rooms, all filled with awful smelling stale water, algae and oozes. 18. Where the bear hides its poop. It has crystallized into a sort of dark rock. Wonder what use that could have? 19. A small climb reveals another way, somewhere? 20. A small room that seemingly holds nothing, but a small hole will be revealed to those with a keen eye. / Respite from what seems like an endless crawl! 21. Climb down, and another small hole is revealed? Where will it lead? / Finally, somewhere where you can stand up! Maybe now you can feel safe… 22. The Red Tunnel, the tunnel that goes on forever. Red gravel digs into your skin as you crawl through this passage, and sometimes you swear it seems like something is tugging at the heels of the one who is crawling last. 23.-25. More ooze infested caverns. The creatures seem to avoid these areas though, by instinct… 26. A spiral that leads nowhere. It feels like the cave is mocking you when you reach the end and have to back out to where you came from. 27. Last of the ooze caves. This seems like a place they haven’t really been to, and it’s relatively safe. The algae here is different and could be harvested for use elsewhere. 28. Natural light streams into this cave. It’s another way in, but not really out, not with how you’re supposed to just drop down and hope for the best. 29. A narrow passage that seems to lead nowhere. However, if you’re perceptive you might feel air escaping somewhere, and either find a way out of a very long crawl or start one. 30. What seem like giant steps, smooth from thousands of years of minimal water flow lead down, deeper still… 31. If you’re perceptive in the Red Tunnel, you might notice rocks that seem like they are placed to hide a tunnel. The climb leads down, into a passage that seems like it will never let go, but once you manage to pass though, a large cavern awaits you, although you might wish to return whence you came from. Unnatural darkness seeps from a crack in the ground, and it sucks in all light you have, revealing none of its secrets. It seems to lead down, somewhere, but only if you’re willing to jump…

#dungeon23 #ttrpg #inkarnate #dungeon master

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alexsfictionaddiction · 2 years

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Alex Recommends: August Books

Well, my August has been full of holidays and excitement! I’ve been very lucky to be able to enjoy my summer, despite the horrific heat that we’ve been having in the UK.

Mark and I enjoyed a very warm week in Devon with my family. We had beach days, hot tub nights and some lovely pub lunches while enjoying the tranquil countryside of North Devon. I love seeing Mark integrate with my family more and I can’t get enough of showing people how awesome he is.

I also spent a week in North Cornwall with my mum, nan and aunt. We had a lovely week exploring places like St Ives, Padstow, Port Isaac and all the places we used to visit during my childhood. It was a week full of nostalgia, cream teas and pasties, so I came back very happy indeed.

August also saw the wedding of two of my best friends. I was so honoured to be a bridesmaid and get a front row seat to the moment when they became husband and wife. It was a really beautiful, magical day where Mark and I had the best time with all of our friends. We definitely made memories that will last forever.

I am currently preparing to go back to university at the end of September. I am sad about not being with Mark all the time and I’m a little apprehensive about what’s coming but I’m willing to ride the waves that are about to hit! I have also managed to read a bunch of fantastic new books that I can’t wait to share with you. There are some amazing reads here that really added an extra spot of magic to my fantastic month, so I’m sure you’ll enjoy them too!

-Love, Alex x

FICTION: The 24 Hour Dating Agency by Mary Jayne Baker.

Saffie has tried every dating app there is and she’s about ready to give up. Her best friend Milo has just been dumped again and has no idea how to find Mr Right. Their boss Tamara is a single mum who has been on her own for years. The absent father of her children is about to get married and have another child and suddenly, he wants to get to know the children he already has. Enter a dating service that sends matches on an intense 24 hour long date and gives your money back if you don’t fall in love. There’s no way this could work, right? This cute unique rom-com has some truly loveable, flawed characters. Tamara and Harry are definitely my favourites! There is a lovely, magical tinge to the ending of this novel which champions found family, community and collaboration. I devoured it!

FANTASY: The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings.

In a world where Black women could still be tried for witchcraft, Josephine has heard every theory about her mother’s disappearance. While she’s ready to let go of her painful past, Josephine has some new challenges to face. Women who aren’t married by the age of 30 need to be closely monitored by the state and Josephine has no interest in a wedding. She has never felt closer to the mother who escaped, so she honours one last wish in her mother’s will to regain that connection. This powerful novel has some beautiful, ethereal imagery and makes some strong commentary on misogyny and the control of women. It’s about the unique bonds between mothers and daughters as well as the powerful connections forged between female friends. The book is soaked in tragedy but it’s also strangely bittersweet. A battle cry for trapped, persecuted women everywhere!

MIDDLE-GRADE: Always, Clementine by Carlie Sorosiak.

Clementine is a lab mouse with a wealth of intelligence. However, in the lab, her only friend is Rosie, a chimpanzee. When a kindly lab technician decides to free Clementine and fellow mouse Hamlet from the lab, Clementine finds herself in a mailbox belonging to an elderly man. This clever mouse soon discovers a talent for chess, TV fame and the power of friendship but she won’t stop until her beloved Rosie and all the other mice are also free. This is an adorable, unique story about living your happiest, most complete life. It also draws awareness to the treatment of animals in labs while depicting beautiful friendships and a cast of memorable characters. There is so much humour and heart in this incredibly sweet story.

YA: Why Is Nobody Laughing? by Yasmin Rahman.

Ibrahim has been hiding his passion for stand-up comedy from his immigrant family, who would really rather he follow a different path. His best friend Dexter has so much confidence on stage but panic sets in for Ibrahim. After a particularly bad attack at a local comedy competition, Ibrahim runs off the stage and meets Sura. Sura seems to understand Ibrahim and knows how to soothe him but she seems to disappear instantly. How can Ibrahim follow his dreams while dealing with the pressures of home and his mental health without Sura there? This emotional story deals with the little-spoken topic of mental health within teenage boys and an exploration of mental health in an Asian culture. A story of family, divided loyalties and following your dreams, this is a moving, honest depiction of a perspective that we rarely get to see.

THRILLER: The It Girl by Ruth Ware.

April was the prettiest, most popular girl at Oxford but she had a dark side. She also happened to be Hannah’s roommate and the two of them cultivated a group of friends throughout university. Until Hannah found April dead in their dorm and the creepy porter John Neville was jailed for it, based on evidence that Hannah gave. Ten years later, John Neville has died in prison and a pregnant Hannah is shaken when a journalist presents new evidence that Neville might have been innocent. Paranoid that she may have been responsible for an innocent man’s conviction, Hannah starts to question those around her at the time and she begins to realise that she may have been wrong all along. I am a huge fan of Ruth Ware and have gobbled up all of her books. The It Girl is another pulse-racing, intriguing thriller, which I couldn’t put down again. It’s full of unsavoury characters who all felt incredibly real and I had no idea what way things were going until the very end. The perfect, twisty mystery with a hint of dark academia and plenty of secrets.

#august books #book recommendations #recommendations #books #bookworm

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thesquireinvictus · 2 years

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The Daisy Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron (1809–92)

(Written at Edinburgh)

O LOVE, what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine; In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine.

What Roman strength Turbia show’d 5 In ruin, by the mountain road; How like a gem, beneath, the city Of little Monaco, basking, glow’d.

How richly down the rocky dell The torrent vineyard streaming fell 10 To meet the sun and sunny waters, That only heav’d with a summer swell.

What slender campanili grew By bays, the peacock’s neck in hue; Where, here and there, on sandy beaches 15 A milky-bell’d amaryllis blew.

How young Columbus seem’d to rove, Yet present in his natal grove, Now watching high on mountain cornice, And steering, now, from a purple cove, 20

Now pacing mute by ocean’s rim; Till, in a narrow street and dim, I stay’d the wheels at Cogoletto, And drank, and loyally drank to him.

Nor knew we well what pleas’d us most, 25 Not the clipp’d palm of which they boast; But distant color, happy hamlet, A moulder’d citadel on the coast,

Or tower, or high hill-convent, seen A light amid its olives green; 30 Or olive-hoary cape in ocean; Or rosy blossom in hot ravine,

Where oleanders flush’d the bed Of silent torrents, gravel-spread; And, crossing, oft we saw the glisten 35 Of ice, far up on a mountain head.

We lov’d that hall tho’ white and cold, Those niched shapes of noble mould, A princely people’s awful princes, The grave, severe Genovese of old. 40

At Florence too what golden hours, In those long galleries, were ours; What drives about the fresh Casciné, Or walks in Boboli’s ducal bowers.

In bright vignettes, and each complete, 45 Of tower or duomo, sunny-sweet, Or palace, how the city glitter’d, Thro’ cypress avenues, at our feet.

But when we cross’d the Lombard plain Remember what a plague of rain; 50 Of rain at Reggio, rain at Parma; At Lodi, rain, Piacenza, rain.

And stern and sad (so rare the smiles Of sunlight) look’d the Lombard piles; Porch-pillars on the lion resting, 55 And sombre, old, colonnaded aisles.

O Milan, O the chanting quires, The giant windows’ blazon’d fires, The height, the space, the gloom, the glory! A mount of marble, a hundred spires! 60

I climb’d the roofs at break of day; Sun-smitten Alps before me lay. I stood among the silent statues, And statued pinnacles, mute as they.

How faintly-flush’d, how phantom-fair, 65 Was Monte Rosa, hanging there A thousand shadowy-pencill’d valleys And snowy dells in a golden air.

Remember how we came at last To Como; shower and storm and blast 70 Had blown the lake beyond his limit, And all was flooded; and how we past

From Como, when the light was gray, And in my head, for half the day, The rich Virgilian rustic measure 75 Of Lari Maxume, all the way,

Like ballad-burthen music, kept, As on The Lariano crept To that fair port below the castle Of Queen Theodolind, where we slept; 80

Or hardly slept, but watch’d awake A cypress in the moonlight shake The moonlight touching o’er a terrace One tall Agavé above the lake.

What more? we took our last adieu, 85 And up the snowy Splugen drew, But ere we reach’d the highest summit I pluck’d a daisy, I gave it you.

It told of England then to me, And now it tells of Italy. 90 O love, we two shall go no longer To lands of summer across the sea;

So dear a life your arms enfold Whose crying is a cry for gold: Yet here to-night in this dark city, 95 When ill and weary, alone and cold,

I found, who’ crush’d to hard and dry, This nursling of another sky Still in the little book you lent me, And where you tenderly laid it by: 100

And I forgot the clouded Forth, The gloom that saddens Heaven and Earth, The bitter east, the misty summer And gray metropolis of the North.

Perchance, to lull the throbs of pain, 105 Perchance, to charm a vacant brain, Perchance, to dream you still beside me, My fancy fled to the South again.

#lit

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

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Comte’s 4th Birthday Story Event: Before the Clock Strikes Midnight

REEEEEEEE Ik it was a long time ago but life has been a [redacted], so I figured better late than never HAHA

So without further ado, anybody who’s curious feel free to click for more--I’ll put it under a cut for spoilers as per usual~

So in this story it’s the usual, a few days before his birthday, and they’re discussing a bump in the road. Essentially, it appears a friend of Comte’s is going to be celebrating a wedding, and as such he’s going into the suburbs/affluent part of the region to be able to attend. It’s only a few hours away from the mansion, but he will be gone for a few days with the arrangements made for his stay.

While this wouldn’t typically be an issue, MC has some things to take care of and opts out of attending with him (preparing for his bday probably LMAO) and Comte is immediately big sad. My favorite dramatic fool is already pouting, though he fully accepts and respects her decision. Besides which, he fully intends to be back in time to celebrate his birthday as well. He notes that he’s always admired how driven and independent she is, and has no intention of getting in the way of that. He’s just going to miss her, is all.

He says as much, figuring there’s no point in hiding it: “I really wanted to bring you with me to attend…but I suppose it simply can’t be helped” … “That’s not it…I guess I’m just wondering if you’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss you while I’m away.”

And MC’s just like “Aw, it’s okay it’ll only be a few days.” While Comte’s response is a very mature, high-pitched whining sound at a frequency only King (Theo’s dog) and Theo himself can hear. When MC tries to reassure him once more, his Hamlet impression continues: “Even the prospect of a few days away from you feels unbearable.”

Naturally, as any man do that loves his wife, he draws her close and proceeds to bang the living daylights out of her. I would offer details, but I have no deets to give beyond: [Well MC, it appears I won’t be letting you get much sleep tonight.]

Brief intermission for the vague sounds of fangirl cardiac arrest.

The scene opens again to him doing his walk of shame (the slut) down the walkway and into the carriage that will take him to his friend’s house. His thoughts carry the regret of burdening her with his desire, though MC is pretty much on cloud nine and unable to stop thinking about the heady night they shared in a good way. Bruh and the sly look when he figures out why she looks like that--I’m boutta call the police, he is going to make women and men alike act up.

MC scrambles to cool his already returning desire by insisting he will be late if he indulges any further, and he laughs and agrees easily–albeit with the slightest hint of reluctance. My favorite part in this exchange is that he kisses her forehead, adding that it’s because she’s the most adorable person in the world to him (a moment of silence for our uwus).

Fast forward to Comte trying to get home after the festivities are over. Problem is, it’s been raining like a mOTHERBLEEPER, and as such carriages have no safe way to traverse the roads at the moment. He waited out the first day as patiently as possible, but after the second–and no sign of stopping–his Leeroy Jenkins instincts kick in. He notes to the coachman that he’s aware he’s asking a lot, but they fully intend to take the long way which invites the least risk–and the rain is ebbing, even if the progress is slow.

It’s interesting because there’s another echo of his main story in this moment. He essentially showcases a desperation to return before the day ends, though without context it’ll probably seem a little strange, so I’ll do my best to explain. Basically, in his main story, MC notes that she doesn’t really care how different they are. Different time, different species, different experiences, so on and so forth. She hammers home that what matters is that the present is something that they actively share. It’s theirs. And no amount of divisions he desperately tries to draw will change that fundamental reality.

And it’s a little moving to see how deeply he takes it to heart? I think it’s one of those wonderful phenomena, personally–the way a person can influence how you think and act with their sentiments. Sometimes someone says precisely what it is we need to hear, and it changes us–while it can be for the worse, it can also be for the better. He notes that he spent so many birthdays; among the people serving his house when he was little, raising hell with his friends in his younger days, so on and so forth. Not unlike Leonardo, he says that after so many “special” days the faces become a blur, the festivities lose their luster. It’s just another day, at this point.

Note, one interesting thing here that stands out to me is that I feel like this is a reflection of both of their larger struggles. Where Comte can’t stand the relentless flow of time rendering him the only constant (and something of a ghost, never fully present), Leonardo can’t bear birthdays because it means remembering people who still mean the world to him, but are long gone. People he can never see again, never laugh with again, never share his life with again. And I think that’s a very profound pain, an anguish that just keeps on settling its weight. (Oh, Sisyphus…)

Comte’s is similar, but different. He actively works to keep his distance-- unlike Leonardo, he approaches immortality in the pragmatic way. He knows getting close will hurt, so he opts out of that–keeps a step behind, an easy smile on his face. Betrays only fragments to anyone, always has his guard up. But the downside of being so guarded means you eventually feel hollowed out and alone; nobody truly knows or understands you. There is a distinct loneliness in that approach, where memories only become reminders of how nothing ever improves and how bereft you are of warmth.

Leonardo, at least, gets to have the joy of being known from time to time. But loss and estrangement from those people means double the pain in the long run, because he loved them fully. Comte chooses to live in the cold to protect himself, but ends up in a kind of catch-22; the cost of forgoing loss means a constant deadening of his own feelings. It means living in a kind of fog, where there is a distinct discomfort in the silent obscurity of your own heart.

There’s something I’ve come to believe in my short course of living, so I guess I still need time to determine how true it is. But…I feel like, when people live this way, where who they are is a lie or it’s at the very least carefully concealed, we in part start to become that lie. I think it’s fascinating because Comte seems to have so much personality to him. He’s dramatic, he’s thoughtful, he has a sense of mischief about him, he has strong ideals, and he has an even more ironclad moral grounding. And yet, when he talks about himself, he always uses descriptions that hinge on emptiness. Like he’s worth so little, worth nothing. And that’s what I mean–he’s been trying so hard to glide on the surface that he has come to believe he really is equivalent to something that ephemeral. Like there’s nothing more inside him, or if there is, that it will never be worthy of much. I think it really speaks to the ways behavior impacts the psyche, even though the opposite tends to be considered the only possible cause and effect relationship.

He’s so determined to live for and in the future while he’s in the present, that he forgets to enjoy himself and really live. And while that approach is certainly understandable, I do think he loses parts of himself along the way. Only to be rediscovered and placed back into his hands by MC: [Today–this moment–our now, I don’t want to miss it for anything.] And that's not even touching on how quick she is to make them a we; she's not letting him keep that distance. It’s not “you have the ability to share this day with me” it’s “we’re here and in this together.”

I feel like what I love about this is that it’s not only about how sweet he is on MC, but also about how much he’s truly living again for the first time. His defenses are slowly inching their way down, he’s letting himself hope and want things and look forward to things again. The thing about being a responsible person is that–while responsibility is all well and good–sometimes you become so mired in doing the right thing and planning the most optimal outcomes that you just aren’t thinking of yourself anymore. That is, if you ever were to begin with. He went from the careful cultivation of a life as an aristocrat, to a life that spoke of more freedom and fun beyond those iron wrought gates, before he returned to the structure of what he knew. Freedom speaks to him I’m sure–we all need it in some measure to survive. But I do think a good portion of that was unfulfilling for him after a point. It was only feeding the void that was beginning to form inside him. He was instinctively retreating into himself to avoid pain, and in doing that the only result was feeling like a coward and a fake. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t able to be himself, and nothing was fulfilling–every single day just another forward march.

I think it comes as no surprise he took up Vlad’s initial invitation so willingly.

But then I digress, back to the story. There’s another timeskip and it finds him racing down the hall of the mansion. He’s hoping to make it in time but knows he’s racing against the clock, and fully expects MC to be asleep by this point in the night. Midway along his path he thinks he spots MC and falters in his step, blinking. He decides to hang back, watching the figure enter his room with a great deal of curiosity and resists every urge to burst in after her. He hears MC speak into his pillow, her voice muffled but clearly despondent: “I miss you, Comte. I hope you get back home soon…”

Comte pretty much dies right there. I literally have no better explanation for it. He freezes, his heart sputters and stops. He’s just completely taken aback.

And then, naturally, he goes about feral with desire as is his modus operandi: “Oho, I heard something incredibly cute just now. Were you also having a hard time spending so long apart?”

MC: “…!”

[Startled, she turns around and her eyes widen and widen.]

MC: “Comte, how...”

Comte: “Took a detour in areas with less rain.”

MC: “?? Wouldn’t that still be hard in weather like this?”

Comte: “I told the coachman I wanted to see you as soon as possible. Even if it was only for a second, I wanted to spend today with you…”

[Everything I was thinking while in the carriage spills out of me long before I can help it. I am reminded again of just how utterly irreplaceable an existence MC is in my life.]

Comte: “Even so, it seems interesting that I would find you in my bed”

MC: “...! A--Ah, I’m so sorry for entering without permission!”

[I quickly grab hold of her before she can scramble out of my bed, coaxing her to sink back into the sheets.]

In between a lot of intense making out and [redacted], the larger overtone is that her reciprocated ardor just destroys him inside:

MC: “It was...because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about wanting to see you…”

Comte: “!”

[You know just how to drive me mad with desire.]

Comte: “I’m the same...the first thing I did was look for you. Even though it was only a few days, your voice, your body, everything...I missed you”

[Because today, our ‘now’--I never want to lose a single moment with you as long as you’re by my side...]

Comte: “I’m so happy to be able to be with you, right here and right now.”

It gets funny too because Comte is trying to take it slow, but when she tells him “Happy birthday” and goes on to say she was so glad to greet the day he was brought into the world by his side, he just loses all control LMFAO. It ends with them getting more heated and [redacted], to the point where he doesn’t even hear the clock strike midnight.

And if him being the cutest and sexiest romantic wasn’t obvious enough, he spends the next morning just sighing blissfully with her in his arms:

[The next morning, when I wake up, MC is still fast asleep. I mean, given she only fell asleep a few hours ago. I’m still reveling in the afterglow of a sweet night filled with her cries, the way she looked at me and held me. MC...]

[I relax to the sound of her breathing steady with sleep, stroking gently at her hair as I hug her from behind.]

Comte: “I’ve had countless birthdays. In an endless life, I was convinced it was just a day that would come and go every time.”

Comte: “It was only after meeting you that I could understand there was no such thing as an overlapping or identical moment. I don’t want to miss a single second by your side...that’s what I think now.”

[I admit the truth of my heart, brushing a kiss against her cheek. Over and over and over again, showering her in my affection--]

But dun dun dun!!! MC was awake the whole time, so when she fidgets a little at how ticklish his kisses are, he 👁

[Oh, I see. Well then, two can play at that game...]

Comte: “Your punishment is to stay in my arms just as we are...how’s that?”

He gets his mischievous (and hilarious) revenge for being revealed (HORNY TIME), though it’s so suffused with love it’s hard to call it revenge hahaha. She reminds him to go easy on her because they have his birthday party to attend later, and he agrees~

Honestly after such killer hurt/comfort spice fluff, I can only tremble at the thought of what his 5th year bday story will be

It’s either going to be Some Angst^TM or even more killer fluff, and either way that means my days are numbered

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp jpn spoilers #ikevamp leonardo #the way this man makes me have So Many Thoughts #every time i remember this story i just go dreamy-eyed #hes an absolute romantic and i die head empty only love comte #not incorrect quotes #rambles #fangdad propaganda #comte propaganda

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wistfulrat · 3 years

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a 4-part rec list of my fave drarry fics - the thrillers, dramas, soft bois, and wankbanks getting me through 2020′s shitstorm

[ for my fellow fledgling drarry stans! the drama list is here and, well. like i didn’t initially intend to go off in the mini-reviews beneath every rec but it’s just that you can't nOT yell about drarry as classic literary foils!! also it’s my dumb sideblog so i decided there are no rules and i get to be annoying about good writing.

but rly, the whole premise of the drarry pairing is shaped by this genre and if the ~serious world of serious published writers~ weren’t absolute cowards, they would admit that drama fic authors have contributed more to the genre than the average shit you can find at your local chain bookstore. so that's that on thAT. & if you love a fic here, don't forget to follow the authors, leave kudos & comments on their work, send them nice msgs bc they do all this shit for free xoxo ]

part 2: dramas

mood: for when I need emotional catharsis and maybe 7 hours to sob/brood about loneliness, the cost of love, & the perpetual fear of being truly known

includes: angst, hurt/comfort, reconciliation fics. it’s cruelty o’clock folks and someone is about to say/do something Fucked Up that they can’t take back. but don’t worry!! there will be a Reckoning feat. hamlet-worthy monologues, ugly truths, unbridled rage, trauma, insecurity, and just a fuck ton of tears!! but maybe even tender apologies and mended things.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil - 36k - E | Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected. | --- can a fic be tender and unflinching at the same time? bc this story strikes that balance rly well and for a piece about unwantedness, it is incredibly humanizing. ginny holding her own, draco being gentle but not letting harry play victim, hermione calling harry “hazzah” and just the way this friendship insists on the validity of found families even when harry is spiraling?? and you’re forced to consider that no one has the monopoly on fucked-upness and that doesn’t absolve us of the ways we hurt each other but it means that everyone has the same potential to be better after being broken. goD JUST READ IT, OKAY.

Blood Magic, the series by @houseofhebrideanblacks and @thestralsofspinnersend 335k - E “Later that night. . .Draco wondered at the depths of magic, its breadth and scope. The ways in which life pervades and eludes death, the ways in which they endure all manners of small and large deaths within their lives.” -- if you don't read any other fic on this list, i hope you read this series bc holy shit it’s breathtaking. harry’s a recovering addict, draco’s recovering from abuse, and in a cottage within the forbidden forest begins an unlikely partnership as the boys take up the tedious work of healing. there are thestrals and everyone's in therapy. there are whole chapters of cottagecore drarry. it's a beautiful exploration of how we bare the immensity of loss against the miracles of birth and regrowth.

Ship of Theseus by GallaPlacidia - 18k - T “A ship in a full sail, a ship in a state of decay, a ship that had been rebuilt, slightly different. A repeating cycle. “What makes the ship the same?” asked Harry. “I don’t know. There must be something in it that lasts across the changes.” -- DO YOU KNOW HOW THIS QUOTE LIVES RENT FREE IN MY SAD, SAD BRAIN. DO YOU KNOW HOW I LOSE SLEEP THINKING ABOUT THE FUCKING SHIP OF THESEUS. it’s a memory loss fic and everything is so unFAIR. you want to murder harry sometimes bc he’s such a shiT and you suffer through the ways he questions desire, penance, redemption, true love. and by the end, you want to believe in those golden slumber lyrics: “once, there was a way to get back home”

Yours to Keep by @dracoismytrashson - 135k - E i love the university setting, i love getting to see harry and draco’s first forays into a real LGBTQ community, the class and race structures outside of the wizarding world. i love that this is the context in which they’re allowed to confront the shittiness of PTSD, anxiety, depression etc. as they come together and fall apart against each other’s traumas. it makes the ending feel earned af. “Baby, we’ve been easing into it for a decade.” -- my god this line

Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered - 153k - T this fic is devastating. like, completely forget whatever reticence you might have towards a de-aging fic and read this. the de-aging premise allows the author to cut through the ways harry and draco hold each other at a distance and you end up with these stunning moments of clarity where they’re truly seeing each other for the first time. and suddenly everything makes sense. i won't spoil it here but there’s a scene towards the end where harry is talking to hermione and ron about realizing the first time he felt what its like to be loved and I fucking SOBBED. an all-time fave fic about learning how to belong.

Had To Be You by @lettersbyelise - 59k - E a genuinely excellent slow burn about absolute fucking morons who refuse to express their mutual love over the course of literal years?? HOW MANY TENDER MEET-CUTES DO 2 GAY IDIOTS EVEN NEED. a car ride a bookshop a street corner -- when harry met sally is my enemy. but you know what? this fic is masterfully written, it’s an epic tale of unexpected friendships and the inability to say the things we feel. also its very much also a soft boi fic if not for the Major Fuck Up that pushes it into drama territory for me. so worth the turmoil tbh.

Hurricane by phrynne - 120k - E auror partners terrified of love. it’s a fic about walls - where the emotional landscape of this fic is occluded by dishonest words so you feel the tension play out in hollow voices, shuttered looks, emptied eyes. it’s like watching two ppl get flayed alive in slow motion and everything is SHIT for a little. it’s mean, it’s ugly, it doesn’t let you give the characters an out when they’re being cruel - to each other and to themselves. but harry and draco are two violent forces hurling toward each other’s walls and the inevitable reckoning comes and it’s so very worth the ending. the hospital bed scene to rule all hospital bed scenes.

Returning Tides by @zigster-ao3 - E “Is my timing that flawed? Our respect run so dry? Yet there's still this appeal That we've kept through our lives” --those fuCKing ian curtis lyrics in the summary!! p a i n. why do i put myself through getting-back-together fics knowing full well i’m gonna be Sad As Hell during the not-together portion of the story?? we are all unfortunately hoes for heartache. anyway this fic is beautiful. draco’s a dad and recently widowed, harry has a thestral reserve, the settings here are stunning. a story about grief and love that lingers.

A Piercing Comfort by @talithan - 44k - T “There is no objective scorecard. There isn’t anything that a person does that tips the balance from ‘deserving’ to ‘undeserving’, or vice versa. A ‘deserving’ person will not run out of worthiness after a set time of happiness and have to then go about working to deserve it again. And an ‘undeserving’ person does not have to suffer at length before having the opportunity to be ‘deserving’.” -- the heart of this fic. harry’s in therapy, facing depression, and learning how to accept love he doesn’t think he deserves. (also draco is harry’s therapist but yes, that power dynamic is handled ethically-well imo and addressed in the author notes I promise!!).

Borrowing Courage by @xx-thedarklord-xx - 70k - E |After years of being a Magical Artist and painting for other people, Draco decides it’s time to paint for himself for once. The secrets pile up as he tries to unravel the mystery of his relatives but the only thing he didn’t count on was having to go to Potter of all people for approval.| --god i love this fic. the thing about drarry here is that they never mean to hurt each other but they do. they do and draco’s trying to do the right thing and he wants so badly for good family but harry’s never rly stopped grieving sirius and it’s this whole unintended mess of festering wounds forced to heal. everyone needs a hug. also ron/blaise pairing and ron+draco’s friendship here is everything!!

Reparations and the sequel, Foundations by Saras_Girl - 320k - E | Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.| -- incredible. harry and draco’s dynamic as healers, the cast of original characters, the boys learning what it means to trust each other, draco building a rehabilitation center, harry falling in love with him, and “meus fabula est mei ut dico: my story is mine to tell.” i cry

The Ties that Bind by phoenix_writing (not on ao3) - 61k - T | Upon Andromeda’s death, Harry and Draco are given custody of Teddy. Their lives will never be the same.| -- harry’s got major abandonment issues and he’s just trying to be a good co-parent with draco but everyone is being the woRST and you want to murder them on behalf of harry. but then, the boys learn to listen to each other and god it all becomes so tender. also harry has a gay panic. things are awful but it all works out. -

[part 1: thrillers | part 2: dramas | part 3: soft bois | part 4: wankbanks]

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #drarry dramas #im so sorry if this got long but also #I have too many Thoughts #all I do is cry over two sad gays #its pain o'clock sweeties #time to Sob about the mortifying ordeal of being Known

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

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The Dark Team (part 6)

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Join the taglist in here (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87)

“What did you fuck up?”, you heard Loki’s sharp whisper through the earbud, while you frantically searched through papers and papers and some more papers.

“I didn’t fuck up. I have the guy. I have information”, cleared Bucky. “Hey, DON’T MOVE”, he shouted at the kidnapped, cocking his gun. He cleared his throat before talking again. “Good and bad news”.

“Must be Christmas”, you said.

“No, Christmas is when you only have good news”, said Bucky.

“Not in my family. Generally, there was only bad news and food. Food was the good news”.

“I love how professional and focused on the mission you two are. Stark would be so proud”.

“Wait, I’m invested now. Tell me more about your family, y/n”.

“For the Norns, I don’t have much time. The information, Barnes”. You could hear Loki's footsteps resonate. According to plan, he should've been walking through a hall full of burocrats, so he was right; he did not have much time.

“Okay, so, I know who has the stick”.

“Good”.

“He’s dead”.

“Not so good”.

“Not really, no”.

“What do we do now?”.

An alarm on the building had set off and every door locked down, with a man on a speaker announcing the disappearance of an important object followed by an awfully accurate description of the three of you.

“We run, that’s what we do now”.

You didn’t have to say more. Bucky threw himself off the window before it finished closing. You looked around desperately, trying to find a way to free yourself from that office. Two security guards entered the room screaming for you to get on the floor, and instead you made an unstable wall with the desk and chairs, avoiding getting shot and giving you enough time to figure out some sort of weapon to take them down.

The watch was already used, the knives were useless if they had guns, you didn’t have a gun yourself (silly you), and the parachute was apparently not working anymore, so you couldn’t jump off the window like your teammates. Damn.

“By any chance”, you whispered through your microphone “could you tele…”, but Loki gave you no time to finish the sentence and teleported himself to the office, still in the shape of a security guard.

“My dearest friend”, he said to one of the shooters, opening his arms welcomingly, “how’s the family?”.

“What the fuck, Robert?” asked angrily one of the real guards. “How did you…”.

Loki kicked off his gun and touched his head with a halo of green lights, making him fall unconscious to the floor. He looked up and down at the second security guard and formed half a smile.

“And what about your wife? Is she well?”.

“You ain’t Robert, ain’t ya?”.

“Mmh, nah”.

You grabbed the second security guard from behind and made him trip, immobilizing his arms and legs, and held his own gun to his head. Loki watched you amused, and then transformed back into himself.

“Oh, there you are”, you greeted him. “Did Buck say anything about the walking dead?”.

“The… what?”.

“The man with the stick. If he’s dead, who activated the alarm? Someone has to have it”.

“He didn’t say anything else. Can’t you track it down?”.

“If I could, why would we have done all of this for?”.

“Point made”.

“I need to get back to our room, take some things off the checklist before going all in for a new plan”.

“Alri…”, he started saying, but his gaze fell back on the immobilized guard you were holding down. “What are you planning on doing with him? He saw our faces”.

“If you let me live I won’t talk about this at all”, he pleaded, face squished against the floor. “I have kids, please”.

“He’s lying, he has no kids”, he said with a neutral face, and you looked at him trying to tell him to communicate telepathically. Surprisingly, he understood. “What?”.

“I’m not killing him, what do we do?”.

“Just kill him, what’s all the fuss about?”. You looked at him horrorized and he rolled his eyes “alright, just threaten him enough”.

You let him go, still pointing the gun at him, and gestured to the door so he could leave. When he reached for the door knob, you shot twice at the wall, mere inches from his head, and he froze in place.

“Talk and I’ll find you”, you threatened.

“I won't say a word, I promise”.

You looked at Loki and he nodded, letting you know the man was telling the truth. You kept your eyes fixed on him while he ran away, terrified. Must be new, you thought. Loki grabbed your waist.

“What the Hell are you doing?”, you pushed him away.

“Teleporting us, as you asked”.

“You have to grab me to do that?”.

“I don’t have to. It’s so you get stability”.

“Oh. Give me a big bear hug, then. No, better, let’s cuddle” you spat with sarcasm. He sighed annoyed, massaging his temples.

“Fine. I’m not even touching you”.

As he teleported both of you, you felt your whole body tear its own cells apart and dissolve, and then regenerate them. Your head spinned like it never has, and something hit your head; but you weren’t sure if it was the floor, a wall or the roof, for your sense directions were nowhere to be found. You took a few seconds to compose yourself before opening your eyes once everything stopped moving. When you finally managed to realize where your head even was, your eyes met with Loki’s, who was holding back a smirk with his arms crossed.

“Reconsidering that cuddle next time, are you?”.

“That was… hilarious. Such a shame I missed the previous part to give me context, though”, said Bucky from the counter of the hotel room, munching on some chips. “Look, the tiny fridge had these. You were right, they’re actually great”.

“Yeah. Grab whatever, they’re on Stark’s”, you said, still with your head a bit fuzzed. Loki offered his hand to help you get up but you did it yourself. He sighed.

“How do you fit your clothes with that huge ego of yours?”.

“I don’t, I walk around naked”, you answered, opening the nearest laptop and starting to work on the checklist.

That night was like the last one. Dark, silent and with your head full on the work. Bucky was barely snoring, and Loki was sitting on his bed reading a book. Every once in a while you glanced up your work to look at how painfully beautiful he was. You hated every thought about it, of course, but you couldn’t deny his sight grew on you a bit. He was an asshole, of course. A parasite on your head. An inconvenience. A distraction, sometimes. But the warm light of the bed lamp and the shadows it formed on half of his face enhanced his features, almost like a sculpture, a piece of art.

While you thought of that you checked on his expressions, making sure he wasn’t listening to your highly embarrassing thoughts.

After a few hours, Bucky had already woken up and you were still spread on the floor, surrounded by the files and laptops from before. The light conversation had caught half the attention of the God, who was still reading peacefully. He seemed so calm you wondered what kept him up anyways.

“You think he still has it on him?”, asked Bucky, changing his shirt.

“I think it’s a possibility. I’m tracking his body down. Should be in the morgue by now, maybe they haven’t taken off his clothes yet. But if not, the security cameras would have recorded who took it from the body”.

“Groovy”.

"Oh my God, James".

"What?".

"What does groovy even mean?".

"You know... it's like saying cool beans".

"Coo... alright".

After a while, you collected all the data you needed for tomorrow. You were so exhausted your eyes were getting dry and blurry. Loki was still reading in that same place, not even fazed by the amount of hours that had happened. You got up to clean the dishes from the last meal, and he lifted his gaze up from the book.

“Wait”, he stopped you. With a wrist movement, the dishes got as clean as they could get and arranged on the shelf. You chuckled.

“I wish I had that ability”.

“Are you going to sleep now?”.

“A few hours”.

“Sleep here”, he said from his bed. You looked at Bucky’s; he fell asleep back again.

“You haven’t slept yet. I don’t want to occupy your bed”.

“I won’t, don’t worry”, you nodded, kind of worried he might pass out of tiredness in the middle of the mission. Why the hell was he not sleeping? “If it doesn’t bother you, I’d rather finish this book on here too”.

“I think there’s enough space”.

He moved and gave you space for half of the tiny bed, and you laid by his side with your arms crossed and a leg on top of the other. He went back to his book, and even though he was sitting and your sight couldn’t reach the pages, you were sure it was in Old Norse.

“What are you reading?”.

He didn’t answer right away. Doubtfully as in to share it with you or not, he then proceeded.

“Hamlet. It’s a translation in Old Norse from an author I adore. I’d say it’s an even better version than Shakespeare’s”.

You felt yourself about to smile. You tried not to, but you probably did. That was your favourite piece of literature of all times. You wondered how could that have gotten to Asgardian hands, and why would he (certainly a Midgardian hater) want to read Earth’s literature. You were so curious in that version. Was it really that good, that would be better than Shakespeare himself? Sadly, you didn’t even know how to say hello in that language.

“Do you like it so far?”.

“I’m re-reading it. Brings good memories”, he said with a subtle smile he had hoped you wouldn’t notice. But you did. Something in your chest warmed up a bit and you shook it off. No, no. Not feelings. Don’t confuse your physical attraction, don’t feed your touch starved soul. No. You had to repeat to yourself a couple of times. You were just very, very tired.

“Brings good memories to me too. I love this book”. You figured it was alright to open up a little. The situation was relaxed enough. He wasn’t snarky or avoidant. He looked… melancholic. Sad, even. Like a facet of himself he didn’t allow everyone to see.

You connected with that. Maybe you could even relate to him in some way. For years, you had a feeling of something not adding up quite right. A longing for something you couldn’t exactly pin up. Melancholy for a blank space.

But there you were, barely knew him for three days yet felt close enough. Not too much. Just a feeling. Just the traces of something that maybe happened in another life. But in this one, you would get the mission done and leave. So don’t get attached, you ordered yourself.

“It’s a really good version”.

“Wish I could read it but I don’t know Old Norse”, you said slower than you intended. Loki chuckled at your tiredness. Maybe you could push your curiosity a little further. What was the damage? That he could just say ‘piss off’ or something like that? “What good memories does it bring to you?”.

He sighed and muttered almost to himself “I used to read it to my beloved”.

You almost gasped, surprised he actually answered you. You didn’t ask for more. It was already a lot he had just trusted you with. He told you he had a beloved. You didn’t even know he had a lover, but of course he had. He was nearly a thousand years old; why wouldn’t he? Did he lose that lover, in past tense?

Curiosity grew bigger on you, but fear pushed you aback. But the questions floated around in your head as a lullaby. Your head started to weigh a little more on the pillow and everything happened slightly slower. Loki closed the book and left it resting on his lap. He whispered “I feel you have questions”, and you denied it with your head. Your eyelids fell heavier than before.

“I’m mmnmnnhnm”, you managed to sort of say before getting knocked down by sleep. You heard his laughter, but nothing more after that.

#loki #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki mcu #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x y/n #bucky barnes is an old man omg

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