#and you'll love the history behind each one of them

[candyskiez]

so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!

The Owl House

The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.

It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.

Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma

She Ra and the Princesses Of Power

Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.

It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.

Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale

Steven Universe

Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.

It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.

Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia

Nimona

Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.

It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".

Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights

feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!

[n3ptoonz]

Hello! Can you write Baraka, Syzoth, Kenshi and Liu Kang reacting to an s/o who likes to trace their tattoos. (Also tattoos are hot)

hiya and i certainly can anon! (i fully agree. whenever i see THAT raiden skin i literally want to jump through a closed window)

mk1 hcs: how baraka, syzoth, kenshi, and liu kang react to their s/o tracing their tattoos

warnings: none; fluff

Baraka

Would be confused at first. He had lost most of his sense of humanity since his affliction, so he'd think you just got bored or wanted his attention

When you explained how his tats were interesting and wanted to know the reasons/origins of them, he was genuinely surprised. Nobody has ever asked him such a thing, let alone pay that much attention to him or his tattoos

Now he doesn't mind it and lets you do as you please. He purposely wears sleeveless shirts around you all the time just so you'll get the idea to trace his tats later

Syzoth

Since the first noticeable tattoo is on his face, he'd get startled the first time you did it. You were waiting for him to wake up one day and became interested in them suddenly

He'd ask what's so cool about tattoos in the first place since he's not originally human. It's not that he doesn't value them, but to him they are more important in the sense of they reminded him of his family (i made that shit up don't quote me), not necessarily "cool" and you had to explain you took interest in all the above

Now he fully welcomes it and would probably go as far as being around you more often to get you to notice and engage in some form of physical touch that ends up in tracing his tattoos

Kenshi Takahashi

I feel like sometimes he didn't like his own tats. Being a former Yakuza and all, he wouldn't get why you think they're cool. You tell him despite their origin they objectively look really cool and make him look even cooler/finer and now he's a happy camper

Whatever his thoughts were slowly vanished out of his own mind. Though he can't really see them anymore, he likes that someone he's in love with is for one not scared away by his past but also thinks they make him look cooler? After a while he'd start appreciating them himself

Also the type of man to walk around the house either shirtless or a tank top more often because "he gets hot easily" righttt righttttt. He loves the sensation of your touch on his body too. I'll never stop advocating for him appreciating other senses more post losing his sight!!!

Liu Kang

He has a lot of tats so like, he's going to think you're asking for a lil alone time wink which he doesn't oppose to but sometimes you simply just find interest in appreciating his ink

He will not shy away from telling you the origins and history behind each and every one. He'd even show you the ones he got for fun. He may be a god, but he was human first who lowkey liked to have as much fun as his comrade, Kung Lao, he was just better at hiding it

He now offers you to do it while you're cuddling or just chilling around each other; in reality he looks forward to it since he's never heard of such a fascinating with something like tattoos and it brought you two closer

a/n: i hope this was good enough! i've been writing so much lately just in general my brain is kinda mush ngl but i ain't no bitch! plus i gotta think more for smut so i went for fluff lol

[archangeldyke-all]

Ever thought about knight!sevika x reader princess that she has to protect and sevika get feelings for her

eeeeeeek!!!

men and minors dni

you could kill your mom you're so angry. if it wouldn't get you hung for treason, you would.

"you can't be serious!" you shout. your mother rolls her eyes from where she sits at the head of the breakfast table. she's trying to assign you a personal guard-- another one. "mom, i'm not even next in line for the throne! i'm fifth! i barely ever leave the palace walls and i never get into trouble-- what was the point of all those fencing lessons you made me take if you won't even let me defend myself?"

"darling, i told you if you scared off the last one that i'd just get you a new one. you knew this would happen." she says. "it's what happens every time."

it's true. you've had countless personal guards since you turned 18. now that you're eligible for marriage your mother thinks it's imperative that you're constantly protected, lest you're kidnapped and married off to the prince of a rival kingdom. you wouldn't have such a problem with it if your mother stopped picking total assholes to fill the roll. you've endured man after man after man, all assigned to protect you, all complete idiots. some of them are unassigned from you for falling in love with you, some of them you caught sneaking glances at you while you change, the perverts. some of them are intimidated by you, angry that a woman can outwit them or unwilling to work for a woman with more intelligence than them. (which is ironic, considering they've sworn away their lives to serve your mother.)

after you got rid of the last one, sir samuel, you'd had a lovely month long break from having someone constantly following you around, and you figured your mother had given up her efforts. apparently, you were wrong.

"this is bullshit." you grumble. behind your mother, one of the fully armed faceless steel figures' shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"i think you'll like this one, darling, i took some time to find you the perfect match." your mother says with a smirk. you scoff.

"i can't believe this." you mumble. your mother raises her hand, beckoning one of her knights toward her. the tallest, the one who had been laughing, steps forward.

"sir sevika, this is my daughter. darling, sevika." your mother introduces. you roll your eyes.

"what kinda man is named se--" you trail off as the knight removes his steel helmet. "oh shit." you whisper. her steel helmet. it's a woman, chuckling at your shocked face. she's got a little gap between her front teeth, her lips and eyes painted black. her brown skin is clear besides the scars littering the left side of her face, and her silver eyes are sparkling. she's... pretty. you gulp.

"it's an honor to be serving you, princess." the woman speaks. you blink at her and nod.

"yes, well..." you trail off as your eyes dart across the knight's face. your mother chuckles, and shoots you a knowing look from across the table. you groan and sink into your seat.

sevika's the best personal guard you've ever had. she's only been assigned to you for three months, but in that short time she's quickly become your best friend.

she's the first thing you see each morning, lightly shaking you awake with a gentle smile and a cup of tea. the two of you chat as you get dressed, sevika sometimes helping you pick out your outfits, zipping dresses and tightening corsets for you. of course, you don't need the help, you've been dressing yourself for years (the royal esquires of dress are reserved only for your mother and oldest brother) but you prefer sevika's gentle touch to your own.

sevika's smart, well versed in history and politics. you enjoy taking breakfast on your balcony with her, picking her brain about current events as you share scones and fruit. in the presence of others sevika is silent and stoic, and when she's required to talk she keeps her answers brief and curt. but when it's just the two of you, sevika lets her gruff guard down, joking and playing and constantly chatting with you. she's gotten you in trouble several times, leaning down to whisper scathing comments about various nobles into your ear at balls and galas, causing you to unattractively snort and giggle and then elbow her when your mother shoots you a glare from across the dinner table.

sevika's the first of your personal guards to ever agree to spar with you. the rest refused-- too scared to injure a princess, or convinced that a woman would never be able to hold her own against a royal knight. sevika's better than you by a mile, but she tones down her skill to scrimmage with you, teaching you as she goes, smiling brightly each time you manage to catch her off guard and get a good jab in.

on rainy days, you spend your afternoons in the royal library, reading to sevika or having her read to you by the roaring fire. one or both of you always falls asleep against each other, waking up when a servant finds you for dinner.

in the evenings, sevika 'guards' you as you bathe, her back turned to you, her face toward the door. you always laugh and tell her it's completely unnecessary-- both the guarding and the modesty-- but she insists.

she leaves you in your room each night with a gentle bow and a 'sweet dreams, princess,' and every night you asleep looking forward to the next morning, when you'll get to see your friend's face again.

you're in love with sevika. it's obvious to everyone except her. your mother teases you for it relentlessly; how you fell for the first woman she put on your guard, how you look at your knight with lovesick puppy eyes, the way you sulk on sevika's days off when a replacement guard takes her place.

"she'd be a good addition to the family." your mother whispers to you one evening as you dance together in the ballroom. you try to bite back the smile the words cause to form on your lips. your mother chuckles as she spins you.

"i don't think she feels that way about me." you admit. your mother scoffs. "what?" you ask.

"you were able to clock sir henry's crush on you before he could even complete his first week as your guard. where's that discernment, dear?" she asks. you chuckle.

"sir henry kept 'accidentally' walking in on me naked. sevika won't even look at me when i'm in the bath, covered in bubbles." you say. your mother rolls her eyes.

"sevika is a gentlewoman. you're a princess. sir henry came from a family of nobles, he was a presumptuous, power hungry boy. sevika's different, you know that." she says. you sigh, resting your forehead against your mother's shoulder as she sways the two of you around the ballroom.

she's right. sevika is different. you know this. sevika's parents were peasants, and she worked her way up the ranks with countless sacrifices and patience. she'd given her arm to protect your kingdom, to protect your mother. she was a genuine, loyal, knight, not some pretentious asshole playing dress up on his daddy's dime.

"still." you say. "she hasn't shown any interest in me." your mother laughs. you frown at her. "what?" you ask.

"you're a princess dear! she works for you. she's sworn her life away to protect you, to make you happy, to make all of your wishes come true. she's not going to show interest until you make it abundantly clear that you want her to show interest." she says. "your father was so scared approaching me when we were young that he--"

"i know. he spent years painting you before he even spoke a word to you." you say. you've heard the story countless times. your father was the royal artist, deeply in love with your mother when she was still a princess.

"but do you know what gave him the courage to finally speak to me?" your mom asks.

"no." you say. she grins.

"i kissed him. he'd just finished a portrait of me, it was so beautiful and detailed, and he had that proud look about him, his adorable shy smile, his beautiful sparkling eyes-- i just had to kiss him. and once i did, he came to life. not a day has passed since then where he hasn't made it abundantly clear how much he loves me."

you sigh. you suppose she's right. sevika would never do something to betray her duties or risk her position-- at least not without a bit of a push first. you bite your lip. "you're sure she feels the same?" you ask. the last thing you want to do is make a fool of yourself trying to seduce your personal guard and lose your best friend because of it. your mother laughs a loud bellowing laugh that echoes throughout the ballroom. you smile. even though she's laughing at you, it's good to hear her laugh.

"oh darling." she says as she brushes a few tears away from her eyes and catches her breath. "i needed that. whew. thank you." she says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. you chuckle and roll your eyes.

"whatever."

"i'm certain, darling. and, on the off chance i'm wrong, i'll hang her for breaking my baby's heart." she says. you laugh, and kiss your mother's cheek.

sevika is tall and handsome and charming and suave. she's courageous and composed-- she could have anyone she wants.

and yet she's speechless and flustered each time you flirt with her.

it's adorable. it gives you butterflies, seeing her react so strongly to your gentle touches and longing gazes.

the first time it happened was the morning after your chat with your mom. that night, after sevika had left your chambers with her usual bow, you quickly changed out of the cozy night gown you were dressed in, dawning a sheer, short sleep dress and giggling as you climbed in bed. you tossed and turned that night, eager for the sun to rise and for sevika to come wake you up. eventually, you fell asleep.

you awoke to a crash and a curse. snapping up in bed, you gawked at the scene you found on the floor beside you. sevika was flat on her back on the floor, the teacup that had been in her hands is in pieces on the floor, and sevika's eyes were wide, her mouth open, gawking at you. you giggled and pushed your covers away, carefully avoiding the shards of porcelain as you helped sevika to her feet.

a blush crept up her cheeks as her eyes darted down to look at your naked body, clearly visible under the thin lace fabric of your pajamas. "you okay?" you asked. she choked, her eyes snapping back up to yours.

"y-yeah. tripped." she stuttered out.

oh, this is gonna be fun. you thought with a chuckle.

since then, you've been laying it on thick. holding sevika's hand as the two of you walk down the winding halls of the palace, letting her tackle you to the ground during your fencing practices to sling your hands around her shoulders and blink up at her, kissing her cheek each night before she leaves your chambers.

sevika's been reacting the same, blushing, stuttering and gulping, before nervously laughing and shaking her head. it's killing you. as adorable as it is, you're dying for her to just fucking do something about it already. you don't know what else you can do besides throwing yourself at her.

you sigh, sinking into the couch. you're in the library, hoping that the smell of books and dust can calm your sexual frustrations. it's not working, of course, because sevika's sitting beside you, a furrow in her brow as her eyes scan a scroll. you bite your lip. she's so fucking pretty it drives you crazy. you reach your hand up to start playing with her hair, twirling the short soft strands around your fingers. sevika's body stiffens next to you. you sigh again.

"you're so pretty." you whisper. sevika blinks down at the scroll, then, she shyly looks over at you. you smile.

"so are you." she says, her voice just as quiet. you chuckle.

"you think so?" you ask. sevika nods. you sigh.

"what?" she asks. you shrug.

"i dunno. there's someone i've been trying to court and they don't seem to be interested." you say. sevika sputters beside you.

"who!?" she demands. you chuckle.

"why would i tell you that?"

"so i can beat some sense into them!" she says. you grin.

"i don't think that would work. she's pretty clueless." you say. your choice in pronoun doesn't go unnoticed. sevika freezes beside you.

"she?" she asks.

"...is that a problem?" you ask. sevika gulps and shakes her head.

"no! i just-- i didn't know."

"you didn't know!?" you exclaim. sevika shrugs. you burst into laughter. sevika huffs beside you.

"it's not that funny."

"it's hilarious!" you giggle. "everything makes sense now!" you say.

"what-- what are you talking about?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes.

"what do you think i've been doing, sev? you think i just like sleeping in lingerie for no reason?" you ask as you slowly scoot closer to her on the couch. "or that i kiss all my friends goodnight?"

"i thought-- what are you saying?" sevika asks, her eyes wide, her knuckles white where she's clutching the cushion beneath her.

"take a guess." you whisper, your face inches from hers.

sevika bites her lip, her eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again, her breaths are shaky. "princess, i don't--"

"oh, for fuck's sake, sevika." you groan as you pull her forward and press your lips to hers.

sevika's stiff at first, inhaling a shaky surprised breath through her nose, before she melts against the couch and lets out the sweetest little moan against you. you giggle against her lips, and her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into her lap as she parts her lips to kiss you deeper. you bury one hand into her hair, the other clutching her bicep as your tongues meet and you moan against each other. sevika's grip on your hips is bruising, and it's making you light headed. you whimper, and sevika pulls away with the brightest smile you've ever seen her wear. you grin.

"oh." she says. "it's me?" she asks, her eyes dreamy and her smile disbelieving. you giggle and kiss her again.

"yeah. is that okay?" you ask. sevika gulps and nods.

"yeah. yes. very okay." she says. "i--" she pauses. you raise your eyebrow at her and she takes a deep breath. slowly, her hands run up your waist, until they're cupping your jaw. sevika brings your face forward until your foreheads are pressed together, her thumbs rubbing across your cheeks in gentle sweeps. "i was ready to kill whoever was fuckin' with your heart." she says. you chuckle against her.

"please don't. i'm kinda obsessed with you." you say. sevika smirks.

"your mom won't mind?"

"she's the one who told me to go for it. i think she was playing matchmaker when she was lookin' for sir samuel's replacement." you admit. sevika giggles.

"that explains all the weird questions she asked me. what side of the bed i sleep on and whether or not i was single." she says. after a moment of shared laughter, sevika frowns. you can feel her brow furrow against yours, and you dart forward to kiss the pout off her lips.

"what?" you ask. sevika sighs.

"i don't-- i don't know how the whole royal courting thing goes." she admits. you laugh.

"i'll help you through it."

"i know, but can i do something out of order now?" she asks. you smirk.

"depends on what it is. i feel like my bed might be more comfortable than this cou--"

"no!" she interrupts, scandalized. "i mean yes, please, obviously, but that's not--" you cut her off with another kiss, and she sighs against you. "i'm in love with you, your highness." she whispers. "i have been since i first laid eyes on you. i remember it so clearly, you were bitching at your mom and begging her not to assign you a new guard and i thought this'll be a breeze. i'd happily lay down my life for a woman like her."

the butterflies in your stomach soar, and tears well up in your eyes. you take a shaky breath and smile. "my knight in shining armor." you whisper. "i love you too."

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa

[whorediaries-09]

okay but popstar!reader and rockstar!sirius where reader performs a song, and wears sirius' leather jacket while doing it and screams "yes i'm his girlfriend, do what you want with that information"and sirius is SHOCKED or in which reader is in an interview and get questioned abt siri and she's like "he's the love of my lifee" and he is all gooey and melty

eep! i'm sorry i've been inactive, i hope you forgive me. i was on a little trip and also have my exams. anyways, i hope you like what i've written.

smoke on my clothes;

pairing- rockstar!sirius black x popstar!reader warnings- fluff, 18+ content (i had to incorporate it cause its him-) use of y/n (aghhhkdjci4utcisn). let me know if i should add more a/n- okay so i mixed both the ideas like-um- idk how to explain, you'll see.

the slut club

lovelorn and nobody knows love thorns all over this rose

he was known for his notorious dating history. he was known for his "sex appeal". he was known for cigarettes after sex. he was known for his black leather jackets. he was known for his distinct rough voice, booming through stadiums. and through the years, he had a gained a reputation of being nothing but a man who seemed to a 'playboy' of sorts.

that pushed the media to slut shame him. but what happened behind close walls remained in his memories, and only he knew. while he could usually laugh it off when asked in interviews, he still felt hurt. he wasn't a man of commitment, and whenever he took a woman to his bed, he specified he didn't want any emotional bonding. it was supposed to be just a one night stand.

that was until he met you. you had agreed to collab with him on a project he had been working on. while the both of you rehearsed different genres of music, sirius wanted to experiment with his style a little bit. you were truly a sight to behold, clad in your cream oversized sweater and black jeans when you walked in the studio. there was something so mesmerizing about you, something that truly enchanted him.

that is how you got to know him. the sobs behind his smiles, the addiction behind the smoke on his clothes, the kisses behind his stage. he'd hold your hand under tables, kiss your pretty face stupid in private, he'd braid flowers into you hair. and in the perception of the hues of dark oceans, his gray stormy eyes would melt into your tear flooded haze when his cock was buried into you, hitting spots you'd never knew existed. his well defined abs would be soaked in sweat, lit under the moonlight. his lips would melt into your lips, his fingers pressing into your skin as your walls would clench around his cock, hinting the arrival of your orgasm. he would ghost his fingers at your clit, your moans and screams of his name falling like a cacophony of a melody into his ears. you'd shudder, shake and curl your toes with your breast heaving as you'd come down from your high euphoria, hitting you as he'd paint your walls with his hot white cum. he'd pepper kisses upon your hot skin, murmuring phrases of affection and falling asleep with his arms wrapped around your body.

he was a liquor you could be drunk on. but loving him was like holding a love thorned rose.

****

you wrapped the jacket around your body, hugging it closer, smelling sirius' scent upon you. the interview consisted of the same old questions but you still had to answer them with a faux smile on your face. sirius wondered how you could manage to do it all the damn time.

you shuffled with the cards, reading the tweet by a fan. you looked into the camera,

'so sirius motherfucking black just collabed with y/n? i think i'm about to faint. oh holy lord, they'd be the hottest couple if they dated.'

sirius almost about fainted. bells started ringing in his ears, as his heart thumped against his heart. truly against your wishes and his, the love you had for each other was hidden. once when you had brought it up, he'd laughed it off by saying it would blow up on your pretty face. but deep down he wanted the world to know how amazing you were, and maybe being slut shamed for you, would be worth it, for once. and while you had the image of a sweet popstar, and the world wanted you, it felt like it would be a crime to confine you with him. but his love knew no boundaries. he'd kill for you, he thought when you were so accepting of him and his flaws when he revealed that he was so 'imperfect'.

he gripped on the edge of his table, his knuckles almost turning white when you opened your mouth to answer. you smiled, holding up a finger as you did so.

'actually he is the love of my life,'

the sentence slipped so casually from your lips, as you proceeded with the tweets and questions. if he could, he'd hug you. but you were behind a screen on his phone. he felt wanted, accepted and desired. without his realization tears pooled into his eyes. he felt loved.

because you didn't care about the smoke adorned on your clothes. you didn't care about getting lovesick all over your bed. you didn't care about handprints in wet cement. you didn't care about that he was rose with thorns. you were truly drunk in love, and maybe it would be worth it even for once if it blew up on your pretty face.

[seventies-arcana]

PAC: what romance trope are you?

hi lovies! i got a fun one for you all today. in this pac reading, you will find out which romantic trope fits your energy the best. this is purely for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only. seriously, i had so much fun doing this one! ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to which photo/pile you should select, then read the message. (basically, let them vibe check you 🤭) images are not mine. pick a picture to begin ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

pile one (the lollipops): the little things + self healing + true love this pile definitely carries friends to lovers energy. picking up on your persons quirks, anxious habits, reading their body language like it's second nature. knowing every detail about your person that you don't realize goes beyond the typical platonic relationship, until you've fallen too deep. not being able to confess your feelings after weeks of harboring them because you don't want to potentially ruin the friendship. the lingering gazes across the room that last just a second too long for it to be platonic. the passing touches lasting a bit too long to be excused as "normal friends being friends". the pining for each other, too blinded by your own attraction to realize it's mutual. at the heart of it all, the love is love. it's genuine, it's unexpected, it's rare. it's you, it always has been you.

pile two (the silk): casanova + protection + attraction this pile contains enemies to lovers energy, hands down. deep history, conflicting viewpoints, refusal to find common ground. but the tension is there. hell, the hatred might be nothing more than a surface level mask. it starts with a disagreement. it progresses into physical attraction. it'll end with romance. because no matter how many times you tell them that you hate their stupid face, you can't deny how much you want them. they'll say they don't need someone like you, but in minutes you'll catch them looking at you like they want to kiss you. eventually, it'll become more intimate. your feelings will get harder to conceal inside. and when you and your person finally tell the truth, the love is built on understanding each other, knowing each other at their worst. despite everything that's happened, i'll stand by your side.

pile three (the dice): solid decision + impatience + chance the energy of a forbidden romance is told within this pile. romeo and juliet, through and through. no matter what, against all odds, you and your person will try to be with each other. it doesn't matter if your told to find someone whose wealthier or offers more stability. you want them. the yearning you have for each other is so deep it's almost painful. the secret meetings are everything to you. you will give the relationship a chance, even if the path ahead is tough, because they offer you a sense of love unlike any other. you know that they are your person. it doesn't matter if someone else disapproves. you will fight for them, they will fight for you. this love is dangerous. it's risky. it's all consuming. it's dedicated. and it's yours. i will leave this life behind if it means i get to love you.

pile four (the cherries): newfound respect + fondness + deception these cards are carrying the energy of a faking dating trope. you're just trying to reach a common goal through this, right? wrong. the extended proximity will cause feelings to develop between the two of you. looking at each other after a few weeks of this obligation, and seeing something new. there's hidden desires sprouting deep in your soul that you'll push to the back of your mind, not realizing it's happen to your person as well. pretending that it's just a fake relationship, telling each other that it's nothing more once you two are alone, even though you continue to sit close together in private. the lines between what's real and what's fake begin to blur. the confession at the end of the fake relationship is raw, expressing how you want it to be real this time. i don't want to lose you, not after all this time together.

please like, follow, and reblog for more pac readings :)

[arthenaa]

a daffodil's camellia— ominis x gn!reader

summary: you think your purpose has always been to love him.

warnings: angst/no comfort, arranged marriage, indirect exclusion, HEARTACHE, unrequited love, reader is kinda a pushover but its bc of generational trauma guys !!! imelda is a great friend, the imelda bias here is unreal so sorry im just projecting, ableism behavior guys bc these mfs are too privileged, i am fr trying to break ur heart ig. NOT PROOFREAD im lazy.

note: HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!!! i slept on this mb,,,,, the angst ominis fic that i talked abt last time but didn't upload until now .... oc cameo from @localravenclaw and @esolean !! (Ren and Lydia) hope u guys enjoy this! anys have fun reading

All your life, you think that this was what you’ve been born to do.

It’s engraved in years of tradition and history, a role you had to partake in the moment you came out of the womb. It was predetermined that your fate would end up in this situation.

Purity was an important factor for the historical families of the Wizarding world. Those who had come down from powerful bloodlines consider the tradition of keeping the family pure a sacred tradition of their power and authority over society.

A pedestal created from years and years of bloodshed to hone the perfection of wizardry and magic today. You suppose it was only an act of gratitude to be part of a long-lasting dynasty that preserved the sacred power of your ancestors. You know it’s an honor to be tasked with this role—to be given the duty of creating more branches for future generations.

You should know because this was what you were born to do.

Born and raised to be a bridge for other Pureblood families to lengthen their authority and claim over their self-built thrones. They say it’s a privilege—to be part of a family descended from the Great Four or just have connections with them through their ancestors’ relationships.

To be pure is to be great.

To be pure is to live a life filled with luxuries.

Opportunities are immediately given with just a snap of their fingers. Their authority precedes those whose blood is stained with the lesser. You’d think living a life of a pureblood would just entail all roses and gold.

Y/N would beg to differ.

“Keep your head bowed and hands on your lap,” Your mother’s voice is ever so cold. The carriage rustles with each bump against rocky terrain. You suppose it's about time you've gotten used to her tone but the booming surprise of her voice has a way of sinking its claws deep within your small heart. As a child, obedience was the foremost value you learned to be of importance. You knew that if you flick your head slightly off angle to your usual disposition due to an interest in your surroundings or the people around you, you would only get the receiving end of your mother’s wand. You knew that you'll be locked down in that dreaded abyss if your bow stuttered due to a misplacement of your foot in front of other pureblood families.

At a young age, you knew enough to not make a mistake.

Born third to the Rosier family's eldest son, you knew that your duty was to form connections—Marry off into other pureblood families and create the next generation of talented pureblood wizards. Wizards have the natural right to take what’s theirs because of their authority over society. A vision that threatens those beneath them.

So you keep your head bowed and palms tucked nicely on your lap with one palm over the other. Your mother is a cold and moving force beside you as you tried to match her pace despite your small little legs. At the age of 7, you are brought by your mother for marriage negotiations.

“Your husband will be an esteemed member of the Gaunts,” You remember your father declaring over tea. He sits menacingly in the front of the table, the glow of the flames behind him making his figure all the more unreachable. You know to only nod and not question any further. He makes a point by knocking on the wooden surface of the long dinner table that seems to stretch farther with each day. You wonder if the spaces beside you will ever be filled. You turn to him at the beckoning of your attention. “You listen carefully to your future husband, child. I cannot afford another failure.”

His words engrave deeply within your poor meek heart. You know that if you deny it, you’ll suffer the same fate that of your older sister—the one who tried to get a glimpse of the love and normalcy she desperately wanted yet ended with a tragedy.

You remembered that day in such vivid detail—the cold looks of your parents as they looked down at the state of their eldest daughter, who bawls and claws at any sort of reaction from the still and lifeless figure of her former lover.

So just like the obedient perfect child that you are, you nod and bow—subservient to the influences of those who claim to be wiser than you. You can only do so much to control your faith so alas, you let go and let the others hold the reigns.

That is until you meet him.

You were faintly aware of what he looked like. A boy with eyes as bright as the clouds, hair so smooth—so blonde that it gleams perfectly in the sunlight, and moles that litter his face, mimicking the night sky. These were murmurs of him from the servants in the halls of your manor. They say his beauty is compared to that of Rowena Ravenclaw and his demeanor spoke true as a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. However, there were also whispers of his only flaw.

“They say the young lord does not see.”

You wondered before how true the nature of the gossip of the young lord was when you took your first step inside the Gaunt estate, but now, as you stand before him who seems detached from the world with his eyes as dull as the morning sky on a rainy day, you suddenly make a conclusive remark about him.

He was truly a sight to behold.

“This is the young Lord, Ominis Gaunt," His mother declares proudly from her place, chest puffed and earrings dangling from the heaviness of the jewels that clung tightly to their placements. His father stands idly and lets his wife do all the matching. Your mother only smiles, placing a firm hand on your back—reminding you of your duty.

You bow with the elegance that of a noble—A move you’ve honed to perfection from years and years of teaching and practice. You rise back up with the same pace, eyes peering up at him from your lashes. He only seems to daze off into the distance.

“This is Lady Y/N Rosier. We’ll serve you well.”

The silence is unbearable.

You think that maybe after the taxing interaction with the grown-ups and being able to interact alone with the young lord would allow you to finally discover his true personality.

That, however, continues to be a difficulty.

"Do you like fencing, my lord?" You ask, trying to break the ice as you sit across from him in one of the receiving rooms of the Gaunt's huge manor. "Or perhaps history?"

"Stop asking." He replies curtly, stance devoid of interest. You continue to dig deep into that shell of his, hoping that your incessant need to make conversation would crumble the defensive walls he put up.

"I hear you're quite skilled in astronomy, my lord—"

"Don't call me that."

"What do I call you then?" You perk up, cheeks gleaming with a smile. The furrowing of his eyebrows only digs deeper.

"It appears that I am an avid fan of silence. I suggest not speaking at all," For a 7-year-old, his voice is cold and authoritative. You suppose it's because of his closeness to the Great Four that he is granted with such ability to freely talk however he wants. Your eyes glimmer in awe.

"I just want to get to know my future husband," You retort, trying to make sense of your fiance. You pout like a child, feet swinging back and forth—allowing yourself a moment of reprieve from the stiffness of tradition. "Mother says it's customary for us to be familiar with one another at a young age to establish proper connec—"

His hands slam hard at the wooden surface of the table in front of you. You flinch, a bit surprised by his sudden show of strength. You admit that maybe you've gone a bit too far with the questioning, but it was all for a good purpose anyway! You two are to be one in due time. So, what was so wrong about getting to know him?

You wonder if you'll ever be like him someday. To carry himself in such a stance that he doesn't need to nod or bow to anyone. He tilts his head in the direction of your voice, face contorted into a glare.

"I'll be on my way," He murmurs, voice calm, and yet his disposition evokes anger and frustration. You watch him with bated breath as he walks towards the double doors, the servants bowing and opening it for him with ease.

You know that this should be the final nail in the coffin. To detest the boy you'll soon marry as he turns into a man whose values and inhibitions clung onto him like a wolf who won't release it's jaws onto prey. You know and yet your fingers crumple the fabric of your skirt, eyes looking forward to your next meeting.

The next time you meet him is over tea. It was the turn of the Gaunts to visit your manor as dictated by the tradition of courting within noble houses. You've practiced this scenario over and over. Countless of times alone, with your governess, and with your mother. It's engraved within the depths of your mind as the wounds of the past sting with each sip of your drink.

Act like a noble. Drink like a high-born. Be a pureblood.

The thoughts ring harshly with each thump of your beating heart. Your fingers twitch, and your form stiffens—all for the sake of tradition. The words branding the forefront of your mind as you feel the intensity of your mother's gaze.

I have to do good. I need to do good.

"Your estate is a wonderful place, Lady Rosier," The Gaunt Matriarch addresses your mother with an esteemed elegance—to which your mother only responds with a courteous smile, a part of her façade.

Your mother never liked purebloods but she respected tradition. She smiles and bows in front of her peers but mocks and beseeches them in the comfort of her room.

You don't understand your mother but as a young child, validation from her was the only thing you ever wanted.

And so you try.

"It's all due to our ancestors' hard work in keeping the Rosier history alive through the manor's architecture," You respond, lips contorted into a gentle smile. The Gaunts seem impressed by your interest in the conversation and from the corner of your eye, you see your mother shift in her seat.

"I see," Lord Gaunt eyes you with a glint of interest in his eye, and he shifts his attention to your parents. "Lord and Lady Rosier, you've raised a daughter worthy of her blood. I applaud you."

Your mother smiles and for the first time, you feel your heart thump at the recognition of doing good. She then responds, "As they should be. It is their role to be worthy and I'm sure she'll be a wonderful spouse to the young master."

Your attention then shifts to the quiet blonde sitting idly in his seat. His face is stone cold, eyes dull, and fists clenching the material of his seat so hard it turns white.

Anger was the first emotion you've seen on Ominis's face.

You wonder if you'll get to see more.

"Aren't you excited?"

You squeal, influenced by the utter joy of finally attending school. It's your first year.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where most wizarding families are built and made from. Many of your relatives built their name from their experiences as a student in Hogwarts—after all it was in your blood to be ambitious. To dream of the impossible and achieve it by any means. That's why your family house dons the colors of green and silver—a direct allegiance to the house of Slytherin, that of which many of your blood relatives reside during their time as a student.

While being excited about Hogwarts was already a given factor as a child of magic, there's also one thing you're most excited about.

"Stop bouncing about, Y/N," Ominis grumbled as he heaved his bag over his shoulder. "We still have to find our damn car."

Your relationship with Ominis did progress in some ways. He's less grouchy now and tolerates your personality enough to let you stay by his side. You've gotten used to its indifference but you think that it's good progress with how he talks more with you albeit still with glares and a cold demeanor.

He pays you no mind as he traverses through the narrow pathway of the train with the guide of his wand. You follow closely behind, hands carrying your suitcase as Ominis guides you to your assigned car.

"I can't help it, I'm literally bursting with energy," You whine as Ominis finally reaches your destination, slides the door open, and places his things inside. He plops down to the farthest corner and leans back to rest. You immediately claim the seat next to him to which he grumbles.

"There's plenty of seats for you to take," He scowls, gesturing to the empty seats in front of you both. You only giggle as you snuggle up next to him.

"Oh don't be such a stone-faced troll, Ominis!" You whine, slapping his arm. He tenses with anger at the gesture. "It's natural for me as your fiancée to be as close to you as possible."

"Stop calling yourself that," His eyebrows furrow in annoyance, jaw clenching in anger. You roll your eyes, not minding his hostility.

"But I am though?"

"I swear to Merlin's name and everything he holds dear, if you don't—"

The slide of the door halts your conversation as your eyes and his head flick toward the sudden disturbance. Two brunettes pop in, one seemingly looking like a direct copy of the other. They blink, eyebrows raised as they stare at the two of you.

"116?" The boy asks with an awkward smile. "Are we interrupting something?"

You pull yourself slowly from Ominis's space at the prospect of new friendships. You smile. "No worries, just a lovers' quarrel. I assume you're the ones we'll share the car with?"

"There is no lovers' quarrel." Ominis firmly states. The two purse their lips in slight hesitance. "Please, do join us though. Merlin knows I need it."

The two then make their way to sit in the remaining two empty seats, placing their luggage in the compartment under. You smile as they settle down in their seats, bright smiles plastered on their faces.

"Right," The boy starts. "Uh, I'm Sebastian Sallow and this is my sister, Anne. It's nice to meet you both."

You nod excitedly at the introduction, delighted to make friends at the present opportunity.

"I'm Y/N Rosier," You respond. You then gesture to the blonde next to you. "And this is Ominis Gaunt, my fian—"

"Friend." Ominis cuts through, overpowering your voice. You turn to him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. "They mean friend."

The twins glanced at the two of you, puzzled by the shifting of the balance in your dynamics. Anne breaks the silence.

"Well, we'll be spending quite a long while here, I hope to make your acquaintance," The Sallow girl beams. Sebastian nods at his sister's words while Ominis responds with a hum of agreement.

There's not much to say when the group falls into silence once more. The four of you were strangers after all, still not used to the presence of someone new but the feeling is welcomed.

Your eyes glance at Ominis who seems to have been resting his eyes, leaning his head against the wall—waiting for the train to begin its course. The corner of your lips curl up at his iridescent beauty.

The train sounds its whistle beginning your journey.

"Are you dumb?"

Imelda blatantly states as she stares at you with disinterest in her eyes. She takes a bite of her apple. "Or just purely ignorant of what's actually happening?"

On your 3rd year at Hogwarts, you somehow get grounded to reality through the presence of Imelda Reyes.

You suppose it's all in due time that you'd be awakened from the trauma-inducing nightmare of tradition and sacred rules of your family. The need to fulfill your role. To give Ominis a home he needs, a family he wants, and a lover he deserves. You suppose that your role overshadowed your judgment of his character and behavior.

You had gotten used to it. To his blatant ignorance of your efforts, the glares, sarcastic comments, seething scoffs, or the fact that sometimes, he doesn't see you at all.

He's always like this, you think. You were never bothered by his indifference. You believed that you could love him enough for the both of you.

You were stupidly wrong about that too.

Sebastian and Anne are terrific company. After being acquainted in your first year, your little group had been formed then and there. The two of them stayed for the past 2 years and you were truly grateful for them. However, the twins were mostly close to Ominis. You didn't mind the gaps between you and the siblings seeing as you prioritized your relationship with Ominis more than anything.

You never really considered it to be a bad thing.

That is until Imelda begins to scratch at the surface of your finely built walls.

You purse your lips, minding your own business as you continue to sew a new stitch into the stretched fabric. You were unfortunate enough to share the dorm room with Imelda and while you enjoyed the rambunctious' Slytherin Quidditch Captain's companionship, this was certainly not something you'd rather talk with her. Everything was fine and there was no need to nitpick at every detail.

Your needle pokes through the hole, goes in, then out—thread sliding swiftly in the path you've carved out for it.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Imelda," You try to deflect her inquisitive nature. She rolls her eyes.

"It's just–" She pauses to readjust her position, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees—she eyes you with keen interest. "I'm truly amazed how you've gone 3 years with him."

You glance up at her with furrowed eyebrows. "Stop speaking ill of Ominis."

Imelda lets out a loud laugh at your response. "And you even dare to defend him? Are you sure you're not dumb?"

You forcefully drop your sewing tools on your lap as you heave a sigh at her words. You turn to face her fully. "What do you want?"

"Why stay?" She responds, direct. She takes another bite of the apple.

There's a momentary pause of silence as the question rings in your mind. You had half a mind to just drop the conversation and leave but some part of you somehow wanted to defend yourself.

"He's just Ominis. He's always been like that," You respond, chest puffed in self-proclaimed confidence. "We grew up together. We're promised for each other. That's all I need—"

A sudden burst of laughter from Imelda catches you off guard. You flinch in surprise as you watch the brunette Slytherin double down in laughter. Somehow, the clawing feeling inside you becomes more prominent with each giggle and huff from the woman's lips. Your nail begins to scratch at the skin of your thumb.

"H-Holy shit," Imelda sighs in laughter, brushing off a stray tear. She giggles a few more times before finally settling down with a smile. "You're worse than I thought."

She tilts her head with a condescending look on her face.

"Have you ever seen him with the twins? Alone?" She asks. That sets off wave after wave of uncomfortable thumping within your chest. You let out a shaky breath. "I suppose you don't because you're always so focused on your dearest fiance—Actually, y'know! If you just tried to properly look at him. Maybe, just maybe, you'd finally get a grasp of yourself."

Your jaw clenches and palms sweat.

"Stop it." You try to get a hold of yourself. To take control of the situation and get a grip on your thoughts that seem to get more and more chaotic as time passes. However, despite your tries, Imelda overpowers you once more.

"Y/N," She leans forward to rest her arms on the wooden surface of the table. "Maybe, you don't know much about him at all."

Your eyes are locked on hers at the prompt of her words. You can't bring yourself to deny despite the flurry of emotions bursting within you. She tilts her head and gives you a sympathetic look.

You walked out with no response.

On your 5th year, the presence of a new student shook the halls of Hogwarts.

It was uncommon, of course, that a wizard would get admitted at such a late year and while the idea of a new 5th year would turn a few heads in curiosity, this was not the only source of attention.

Over the course of the first few days back to school, you hear talks of the new 5th year's incredible feats of surviving against a dragon attack. There were exaggerations, of course, and different variants of the story with how widespread the gossip had reached, but it all reached the same conclusion at the end.

This new girl had already made her mark as a formidable wizard.

You admired her at first, wanting to know how she did it and what brought on such circumstances. However, there was a slight uncomfortable nagging deep within the depths of your heart at your first meeting. While you felt regretful of such impression despite her kind deportment, you still felt uneasy at the arrival of her presence.

It was probably partly because of Anne's leave of absence since the start of your 5th year. Sebastian was quite privy to the details concerning Anne's sudden absence. You knew she was sick, but other than that, you were quite left in the dark. You convinced yourself that maybe Sebastian feels conflicted when talking about it, and his sudden avoidance of you bringing up the topic proves a testament to that. However, you've seen him and Ominis on the train when you came back after getting refreshments. You've seen Ominis give him a comforting hug—an affection you've barely received from him if there was any at all. You've seen Sebastian tap Ominis to stop talking whenever you enter the room.

People tend to have that misconception that you're awfully unaware of your surroundings due to you being characterized as a 'pushover.' You knew that your bond with Ominis or Sebastian was way different than what they had for each other. You knew it and chose not to dwell too much on the semantics. You'd rather focus on Ominis. On being the person he deserves.

This was solidified when Sebastian began including her in your lunch hangouts.

You were unfortunate enough to be separated from Sebastian and Ominis for your Potions lecture. You had to scour across the castle just to get with them for lunch. They were usually at the same place—lounging around in the Defense against the Dark Arts Tower or the Undercroft.

This time, however, you were finding it quite hard to spot the two.

"Look," Lydia Parkinson, a Ravenclaw from your year, twirls the cup of drink in her hand as she lazily looks up at you due to the lulling atmosphere of the afternoon. "Maybe you could just have lunch with us. Just saying."

Seated beside Lydia is Ren Aries, your potions seatmate (also a Ravenclaw). She has rumored romantic ties with Sebastian, which brought you to their spot in the Great Hall in the first place. Who else would know Ominis's best friend better than you?

Your eyes turn to Ren, who merely rests her chin on her palm propped up by her elbow on the table. "Don't look at me."

"You're basically dating!" You whine, hands grabbing on your books tighter. "Of course, you know where he is."

"No, we're not." Ren answers swiftly.

"Wrong." Lydia raises a breadstick and accusingly points it at Ren.

"Is she talking to you? I don't think so." Ren swats her hand away, causing the breadstick to fly across the table and into a group of first years. The three of you immediately turn your heads, not willing to face the confused glances on their faces.

Just as the first years begin to mind their own business, Lydia begins to lean in with pursed lips. "Well, I might've heard that the two left the Great Hall with the new fifth—"

Suddenly a loud slap intercepts her words. You flinch back at the sudden movement, watching as Lydia rubs her arm as she crumples over the table. Ren sends a glare toward Lydia before turning to you with a half-lidded stare.

"Don't mind her. She's delirious after drinking the pumpkin juice." Ren intercepts easily, not minding her best friend wincing beside her. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"I heard what she said?'

"No you didn't."

"I mean ..." You trailed off, eyes glancing between the two. "I just heard her say the new fifth year."

There's an uncomfortable silence as the two gaze at you with an unreadable stare. Somehow, this gaze seems quite familiar. You've seen it from Imelda, from Anne during your short moments together, and now these two. A budding stem of annoyance begins to grow in your skin.

"Why are you looking at me like that? They're probably just hanging out." You shrug it off like you've always had. It is no use fretting over such simple matters.

"Sure they are—" Lydia chuckles before Ren sends a nudge to her ribs. The redhead merely groans and grabs at the edge of the table. You look at her in concern.

"As I said, delirious." Ren lightly curls the corners of her lips to give you a polite smile. There's a pause of silence before Ren sighs—eyes gazing with an unreadable expression on her face. Your fingers twitch at its familiarity.

"They're in the Undercroft, Y/N." She says, nodding slightly. There's a slight hesitance to her tone of response as if telling you where they were wasn't something she was supposed to be doing. "Sebastian dropped by our table to tell me that, just in case I wanted to join."

Sebastian referred to Ren. Just in case she wanted to join. You wanted to ask if Ominis at least told her to tell you, but you're too much of a coward to do that.

You couldn't will yourself to look at her eyes, afraid that you might finally recognize the emotion that lingers in the depths of her mind. You suppose the inquisitive and empathetic nature of Ravenclaw runs deep within Ren's blood.

You nod as a thanks and left without a word.

You hear laughter first. Your footsteps halt at the archway of the Undercroft—breath faltering as your eyes find the familiar tufts of blonde you've grown to love over the years.

Normally, you would've already bounced over to him, reveling in his attention no matter how negative or neutral it might appear. You would've teased him and wormed your way into his arms.

However, things were quite different from where you were standing.

You hadn't had the opportunity to meet the new 5th year. You only relied on hushed whispers and murmurs across the halls of Hogwarts just to get a glimpse of what she was actually like. You take slow steps towards the source of laughter, eyes trained on their figures—smiles, and gleeful expressions plastered on their faces.

You're caught off guard by the unfamiliar presence of the new fifth year—hair as dark as midnight with a touch of silver strands that decorate the front of her hair like the stars that litter the sky. She's as pretty as they say, as radiant as they whispered about, and evokes the aura of a true born wizard.

However, the true reason for her shock lies in the fact that Ominis—the man she'd known to be stoic, unmoving, and unphased, was laughing. Ominis was laughing.

"Oh, Y/N." It's Sebastian who notices you first. You flinched at the greeting, watching as the other two paused—the new fifth year turning towards you with wide curious eyes, and Ominis subtly turned his head away from you. Your breath hitches at his actions. Sebastian awkwardly glances between the two of you. "I think this is the first time you actually met Nora. Nora, this is Y/N Rosier. Y/N, this is Nora Finley."

Nora waves at you with a smile. "Hi Y/N. Hope you don't mind me intruding."

"None at all." You reply eyes glancing at Ominis who continues to have his back towards you. You decide to continue the conversation. "I was looking for you guys. I thought we were going to have lunch."

"Oh," Sebastian scratches the back of his head, hesitantly glancing at Ominis who continuously remains silent and indifferent. "We already had lunch. Sorry."

You slowly nod in an understanding, a stiff smile plastered on your face.

"That was because you were too hungry to wait," Nora intercepts with joking shove. "Apologies, Y/N. I didn't know they were waiting for someone else."

Your finger twitches slightly at her words. "It's fine."

"I was waiting for Ren! Ominis was just being an asshole." Sebastian defends himself which earns a slap on the arm from Nora. Then, you suddenly hear Ominis speak up.

"Not my fault you were actually coward enough to not go to her yourself," Ominis says. This earns a laugh from Nora who bumps her shoulders against Ominis. "I had to pull you over." The three laugh at the situation at hand, faces plastered with glee and comfort.

So Ominis was there, with Ren and the others. Yet no one thought of telling you where they were. An anxious heavy feeling settles over your chest.

Suddenly, you feel out of place. Your ears ring, zoning out, as their motion becomes more distorted in your eyes. You feel as though you shouldn't be here—that you're the one intruding instead. The ache overwhelms you.

Your feet shuffle a few steps back. "I-I'll get going." You say, voice weak as you announce your departure. Sebastian gives you a moment's glance before nodding. Nora gives you a big wave (you feel bad, she's too much of an angel). However another reason piles onto your aching heart—mind in a daze as it beats fast with anxiety.

Ominis had not once acknowledge your presence.

You leave with your dignity intact.

Seeing Nora is now a regular occurrence.

You didn't mind it at first. You liked the girl. She was a social butterfly, easy to talk to, and her presence brought comfort whenever she was around. You couldn't argue the comfortable nature of Sebastian and Ominis around her. While you were also a generally talkative and social person, it still varied among your peers. Your personality often ventures between the lines of introvert and extrovert—only becoming active to a certain amount of people, and silent to the rest.

However, despite your positive impression on Nora, there was also the case between her and Ominis. You've seen them hanging about in various points of the castle. Even going out together when they leave classes. You haven't had much alone time to spend with Ominis as he somehow begins to become more non-approachable and cold as days pass by. Somehow, he becomes more indifferent than before.

Back then, Ominis indulges in your whims despite his initial opposition. You suppose it's probably to get you to stop, but he had always listened—one way or another. Now, he merely leaves without a word—cutting you off mid-talk and bouncing off to Nora who had just entered the room.

Your heart begins to waver and your breath speeds up. You couldn't deny the hurt that flows through you with each indifferent response of your fiance. Your fiance. He was yours as much as you were his.

So why does it feel like you're the one intruding?

"What do you think we should get Anne, Omi?" You smile, siding up to Ominis whose hands run through the braille engraved on his book. "Do you think we should get her some scented candles?"

"Anne has a sensitive nose." Ominis furrows his eyebrows before slightly tilting his head towards you. "Didn't you know that?"

"I did!" You respond with a defensive tone. Of course, you did. Anne was your friend. "I was going to buy her those simple scented candles. Just to help her with the stress."

Ominis scoffs at your words before going back to reading his book. Just as you inquire a little more about his day, you hear Nora and Sebastian chattering as they reach your spot. You were about to greet them when you felt Ominis nudge your hold away from his arm. You flinch at its intensity as he rises from his seat to walk towards the two—specifically in Nora's direction.

Your heart thumps loudly against your chest, knocking against your ribs like an ache you can't explain. You sit silently, eyes watching as they chatter amongst themselves. The looming realization begins to crawl under your skin, chipping at you—limb from limb. Your breath falters.

"Y/N!" Nora greets like the angel that she is. You smile back, albeit forced and hesitant but welcomed her warmth with open arms. She slides up to you, before calling over the two. They follow with ease. You feel Nora's arm intertwine with yours, thumbing the cloth of your robe.

Just as the two have finally settled down, Nora begins the conversation. "I'm glad you don't have DADA with these two. It's always a chaos."

You nod, still quite perplexed by the whole situation. "Really?"

"Please, Nora." Sebastian teases, arms propped on the table. "Just say you're mad that I beat you at a duel."

"Throwing a ragged cloth to my face before casting a Levioso isn't a win that you think it is." Ominis intercepts with a disappointed shake of his head.

"Blah, blah. Looks like a skill issue to me." Sebastian leans back, arms crossed over his chest. He rolls his eyes playfully. "Life isn't fair on the battlefield, Finley."

Nora turns to you with a scrunched nose. "Are you really friends with these guys?"

You find yourself pausing at her question. Thankfully, she laughs afterward, pulling tease after teasing towards Sallow. The question begins to etch into your brain as your mind conjured every possible interaction you had with Sebastian. Was he even your friend? You remember the silence and the awkward tensions whenever Ominis had to go to the bathroom or get called up by Professor Weasley. Even before then, when Anne was present in your little group of 4, the twins were always stuck to the hip, if not with Ominis. Never the three of you alone together.

Never with you.

You suppose Imelda was right. Blinded by the idea and concept of love through duty, you unintentionally neglected the possible ties that you could've had with the twins. You felt helpless.

"Oh, yeah. Before I forget, what are we getting Anne this weekend?"

Your head turn towards Nora in surprise. "You're coming?"

There's a momentary pause at your question. You wouldn't have minded it before, but now you feel the stares clawing at your skin.

"Of course, she is." Ominis replies with a tone of disbelief. "Don't be ridiculous."

"She hasn't met Anne, though? I don't think—"

"Don't speak for my sister, Y/N." Sebastian cuts through the tension with an offhanded response. You turn towards him in surprise. Nora shifts uncomfortably beside you. "We already planned this. Let's just go with it."

"You didn't tell me anything?" You're not sure as to why your voice suddenly begins to rise. Your hands clench under the table.

"My bad?" Sebastian shakes his head in confusion, as if he's the one incovenienced. "Listen up, next time then? Instead of you know—ogling Ominis, all the time?"

"Sebastian!" Nora calls out, perplexed at the sudden hostility. The brown-haired Slytherin merely turns his head away. A dreadful feeling submerges over your body as you glance at Ominis who sports an indifferent look in his face. There's a paused silence before Sebastian stands from his seat.

"Where are you going?" Nora asks, worried.

"Out. I'm floo-ing to Hogsmeade for the gift. Catch up if you guys want to." Sebastian mumbles in response. He leaves abruptly, robe trailing behind him.

Just as you were about to turn to Ominis, he stands up. "Omi?"

"You should've known better." Ominis mutters. Your breath hitches at his words. He follows through with Sebastian. Your hand clenches into a fist.

"Y/N," Nora grasps at your arm with slight comfort. You couldn't be mad at her even if you wanted to. "Are you okay?"

Your head is lowered, hair framing your face as you try to gather your emotions. You then turn towards her with a smile you've practiced from your childhood days.

"I'm fine."

The silence was unbearable.

You're not sure when was the last time you and Ominis were seated together in a room, alone—much less the receiving room of your manor. You can feel the nervousness clawing up your throat. Your mother had persisted on the two of you visiting the manor during your winter break. You wanted to accept the invitation at first, seeing as this was an opportunity to spend time with Ominis.

But seeing the disdain on his face as soon as you told him the news, somehow regret only fills your body. You had no choice either way.

"Is Hogwarts treating you well?" Your mother sips her tea with the elegance fitting for her role as the matriarch of the house. You shift in your seat, uneasy from her attention.

"Well enough," Ominis answers from your side. His face lacks the enthusiasm of talking to your family.

Your mother furrows her eyebrows at the response but doesn't say anything regardless. "I do hope you're both preparing for your engagement once you graduate in 2 years. Merlin knows how much both of our families have prepared for it."

You nod submissively, unable to resist the pointed stare your mother gives you. Ominis stands abruptly at her words, not opting to pardon himself as he walks out of the room. There's paused silence before your mother scoffs.

"Insolent child," She seethes, taking a sip out of her cup. "If it weren't for his family name and heritage, we would've found you a more suitable heir to marry. Merlin knows his family's treating him like a dispensable asset, when his brother's already married and up to take the role as head of the house."

You sit silently, eyes focused on the untouched cup of tea. Your mother's voice booms through the room, causing you to flinch at its sudden intensity.

"Go after him, Y/N. Beg on your knees if you have to. Keep him tied to the leash before he goes off pawing at others." Your mother orders. "Your sister's a testament to that. Do I make myself clear?"

Your mother's word was law. Everyone in the house knew that. Even your father, who is recognized as the head of the house. She easily controls those around her to do her bidding, and those who resist are met with dire consequences. You'd rather be by her side than against her blade.

"Yes, mother."

You found him by the courtyard.

Your family dog, an Alpine Mastiff that was gifted for your father by a collector of muggle creature, pants against his lap—enjoying the gentle caresses that Ominis runs through his fur. He sits against the huge tree in the middle, the leaves giving his face a gentle shade from the light. You make careful steps before standing in front of him.

"Feeling lethargic, Omi?" You smile. The dog, Xavier, looks up at you with its sleepy eyes before yawning against Ominis's touch.

"I told you to stop calling me that." He replies, eyes devoid of emotion. He merely runs back and forth Xavier's fur as if its stimulation calms his nerves.

"You never allow me to call you anything." You retort, voice calm as you look down at him with a forlorn expression. He doesn't need to know that.

Ominis shakes his head, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "That's because we're not friends."

You purse your lips before responding. "If you say stuff like that, I'll get hurt, Omi."

Ominis chuckles. "You've bound me to your chains, made me a spectacle with your jokes, and you're worried about getting hurt over the truth?"

You stared at him as he continues to pet the massive dog on his lap. You've gone through this routine before, and you'll go through it again. Why get hurt now?

There's a miniscule pause of silence before you let out a laugh at his words. "So touchy with everything, Omi. You really hate me that much?"

It's a joke. Don't take it to heart.

"Yes," He answers with no hesitation, face devoid of any emotion. He finally looks up and its as if those beautiful cloudy blue eyes could stare through you. "Yes, I do."

It's not true.

You've observed Ominis enough to know what he's thinking.

As much as others regarded him as an intimidating figure, he quite wears his heart on his sleeve. You know when he's angry, when he's joking, being sarcastic, sad, or whatever version of Ominis you're facing for the day. You didn't spend 8 years of your life loving him just for you to not recognize every detail on his face.

You've known him well enough to recognize patterns on his behavior, subtle differences to his emotions, and his current mood of the day. If anything, you're well versed in Ominis's body language, that you've grown well accustomed to how you act around him based on it.

That's why besides you're being hit with two realities, instead of one.

You've watched them from across the hall, chatting up a storm as the three of them were huddled in the corner. You've long since opted to observing them rather than being in the group itself, and ever since then, you've begin noticing things you weren't supposed to.

"What's got you looking so focused there?" Imelda's voice reaches your senses as a figure settles beside you. You give her a glance before looking back at the trio. She hums, following your line of sight. "Looking at your asshole of a lover boy again?"

"Don't I ever?" You sarcastically remark, laughing slightly. Imelda looks at you with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

"Wow," She nods. "That's improvement. You don't make sarcastic remarks when I point out your obsession with white boy over there."

You glance at her, heaving a breath as you contemplated letting Imelda know of your thoughts as of late. You suppose that she's the only person who has been real with you since the start. Everything's been a blur since your visit with Ominis to your manor. You've been trying your hardest to appear normal but things had just gone way off. You've started to distance yourself as well, only responding when asked or talked to—which most of the case is Nora's doing. Though, with Sebastian's constant needs for adventure and Nora's inquisitive nature, she had also lost the attention towards your interaction with the group.

With Ominis, you knew well enough that wherever Nora and Sebastian went, he went to as well. You've seen the three of them flee the Great Hall, not minding your lack of presence to the group. 4 years as a group of friends and 8 years with Ominis, and they haven't had a single thought about you that passed through their minds.

You suppose you should've gotten used to their exclusion to your presence. You're partly aware that this is due to the engagement between you and Ominis, how much he despises the centuries-old tradition of marrying those of the same stature as he is. How much he detests the forced nature of your relationship. You wished you had the power to null it, to start over, and meet him under different circumstances. To dream of a reality where he actually finds love in you, and wishes for a future with you in it.

But alas, life is hard for someone like you. To hold so much authority within your fingertips but be shackled by tradition and generational trauma. You've long accepted your demise.

"Ominis likes Nora." The words slips out of your mouth with ease. Like what you just said was something out of the news. Imelda chokes at what she hears. You look at her with concern.

"E-excuse me?"

"Ominis likes Nora." You repeat calmly. Imelda sweatdrops, moving to stand in front of you as she analyzed your facial expression.

"You're saying that like it's the weather—are you okay?" She asks, worried.

You shrug, eyes looking down at your twiddling thumbs. "It's inevitable. Everyone knows about it, no?"

Imelda pauses, face cringing as she places her hands on her hips. You chuckle at the silent admission. "I'm always a bit too late."

"Look, Y/N," She sighs, taking a step forward as she places a hand on your arm. "Ominis was doomed to be your fiance from the start. He's an asshole and just overall rude! You've got nothing much to lose anyway!"

Your tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip before pulling between your teeth. "I do. That's not how it works, Imelda."

You glance up at her, finally meeting her concerned eyes. She lets out a breath at your forlorn expression.

"I always knew Ominis didn't like what we had. I've spent most of my childhood years with him to not know the familiarity of his disdain." You reply. You recall the times you've received cold and indifferent actions from him. "He's made himself clear. I was always the one who wanted more."

"Y/N," Imelda sighs.

"I don't think Ominis ever considered me to be someone dear to him," You whispered. "I had always been something he easily cast aside. A nuisance—I've seen the way he whispers to Sebastian whenever I've said something they considered out of line. I was never something he deemed important."

Imelda is silent. You heave a sigh.

"He's happy now." You mutter. "Nora's everything I'm not, and even if I wanted to hate her, despise her—she's so pure and likeable that it's so unfair. Why is it so unfair?"

You feel tears well in your eyes. Imelda's breath hitches at the sight. She looks around, trying to see if anyone was watching. She then hears the familiar voices of the three. Soon enough she sees them walking over to pass by their area. Imelda did what she could only think of.

She pulls her off her robe before throwing it over your head, shielding you from their stares. She pulls you in her arms as the three near towards you. You couldn't see a thing but you could hear them.

"... Imelda?" Sebastian's voice comes out as confused, probably because of her hooded figure. "What's up?"

"Hey!" Imelda smiles, hands making gentle pats to your back. "Friend's not feeling well. Hope you don't mind."

There's pause of silence before Ominis responds. You feel your heart speed up. "Ah, hope they'll feel better."

"They hear that quite well!" Imelda responds with enthusiasm. You slump against her hold, feeling lethargic from thinking.

"Alright, we'll get going." Sebastian waves before the two follow them off. Just as the three of them began to make their way down the hall, you hear Nora suddenly backtrack.

"Ah, by the way, if you do see Y/N around, tell her that Professor Weasley's asking for her?" Nora says. Your body freezes and its as if Imelda had felt it as she had pulled you closer.

"S-sure." Imelda responds. The three of them began to go on their way, chatting and laughing as they disappear down the hall.

Imelda finally pulls her robe off you, eyes filled with concern. "Y/N ..."

"They knew I wasn't around," You mumble, breath trembling, and eyes devoid of emotion. "They knew. He knew."

Imelda raises a hand to fix your hair before smiling. "There's nothing much I can say that will be of help, but I do hope that you'll take care of yourself—Of what you'll do from here on out."

You pause at her words before nodding silently.

The realization settles in and its heartbreaking and grueling. However, despite that, things haven't been much clearer than before. You'll set things right. For him. For yourself.

Because love is your greatest weakness, no? Your greatest threat. Love for him, and love for your family.

Whichever will prevail?

A/N: before yall ask, yes this will have a part 2 ... i just really wanted to finish this and it went beyond what ive planned. stay tuned mwehe!!! this will not have a happy ending btw. the title daffodil's camellia is in reference to their meaning in love. daffodil can mean new beginnings but it can also mean unrequited love, camellia means romantic love or devotion. just wanted to let yall know that!

[errihaienx]

sypnosis : you, a renowned journalist, once Atsumu's lover, are assigned to interview his team, MSBY Black Jackals, in the V League. amidst the echoes of your past romance and the intensity of the game, emotions flare as you navigate the thin line between professional duty and unresolved feelings. as questions linger and the court holds its breath, you must confront the love you left behind on the court of your shared history.

disclaimer : just to clarify, the storylines of the fics and the original meaning of the songs may not match up. each fic was crafted based on specific lyrics. for instance, 'reminder' by the weeknd is about him 'reminding' listeners of his identity and successes as a pop/R&B artist. however, in this fic, it's focused on an ex reminding you of their presence, highlighting your shared history with them.

Eyes scanning the email that had just arrived, you found yourself fixated on one particular line, unable to fully process the rest of its contents.

"Am I seeing this right?" you muttered to yourself, struggling to grasp the reality that you were being tasked with interviewing the MSBY Black Jackals for their upcoming match against EJP Raijin.

The weight of the assignment was not lost on you; both teams were immensely popular, and this opportunity could significantly boost your career and benefit the broadcasting company you represented. Yet, amidst the professional excitement, something stirred deep within your heart—a feeling long forgotten, ignited by someone from your past.

With closed eyes, you drew a deep breath, torn between accepting this golden opportunity and the memories that now flooded your mind. You were still carving your path in the media broadcasting industry, and this interview could be the breakthrough you had been striving for.

You tried to push away the distracting thoughts of the past, but they persisted, vivid flashes of moments shared with a smiling Atsumu dominating your mind. A bitter smile crossed your lips; this was merely work, a job that demanded professionalism above personal sentiment. Journalists couldn't afford to skip assignments due to old feelings.

Finally deciding to accept the job, your hands trembled slightly as you typed out a response to the email.

It had been years, and the likelihood that he would remember you seemed slim. Perhaps he would shrug off the past, considering his current fame and influence, or maybe he wouldn't even recall you at all. It was foolish to believe that Miya Atsumu, the volleyball star, still carried any remnants of a heartbreak from his high school days.

That thought lingered, engraved in your mind—that he wouldn't remember, or if he did, that it wouldn't matter to him. He wouldn't care about his ex, the one who ended things during his final year as a third-year student.

You knew you had made a mistake. Atsumu had been a devoted boyfriend, loyal and kind, giving you more love and affection than you had ever dared to hope for. Yet, despite all that, you couldn't say you regretted the breakup. You had always understood his passion for volleyball, knowing it was his calling. You convinced yourself that ending the relationship was for the best, a decision made to allow him to focus on his dreams.

A tear escaped, quickly wiped away. The internal debate had been exhausting, keeping you up all night after receiving that email.

Reaching for your phone, you contacted a close friend.

"What the actual fucking fuck?! Are you fucking for real now!? "

"Yeah… so I accepted it…" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, recounting the job you had been assigned.

" Fuck, that's unexpected,"

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of this unexpected turn of events.

"Well, don't be too bothered by it. There's only a 1 out of 10 chance you'll end up interviewing him. There are like ten people on that team, and Atsumu has a reputation for skipping interviews if he's not in the mood. "

Nodding along, you felt a semblance of relief. Amidst all the focus on Atsumu, you had momentarily forgotten that he was just one member of a larger team.

"However, if fate has it out for you and you do end up face-to-face with Atsumu for an interview, just think of it like a chat with your ex."

Your face twisted in discomfort at the thought, watching as your hopes seemed to evaporate. Your friend rambled on a bit more before ending the call, citing her late-night date with her boyfriend as the reason.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed, shrugging off the swirling thoughts. You needed to act like you didn't know him, to focus on the task at hand. You had two weeks to prepare, a seemingly ample amount of time for a mere interview.

In two weeks' time, you vowed to do your best to forget about him. As your eyes drifted shut, sleep enveloped you, and you ventured into the realm of dreams.

• two weeks later...

Sweat dampened your palms as you flipped through the crumpled scripts, the two weeks leading up to this moment feeling like a whirlwind. What was supposed to be a slow, preparatory period had raced by, leaving you on the brink of losing your composure.

Now, mere minutes away from your interview with the MSBY Black Jackals, the clamor of loud cheers and the clicking of camera shutters filled the vast volleyball stadium where you stood.

"Don't let the pressure get to you! You've interviewed bigger stars before; this should be a walk in the park," a staff member from your company reassured you.

A smile tugged at your lips, finding some comfort in their words.

"You've got this. Just stick to what you've rehearsed over the past two weeks," you murmured to yourself, drawing from the intense preparation you had put in, a departure from your usual approach to interviews.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you took a sip of water. The deafening roar of the crowd reached its peak, causing you to flinch. Could this be it?

"Shit!" you cursed under your breath as you caught sight of the imposing figures of the MSBY Black Jackals, their silhouettes commanding the space.

Composing yourself, you braced for the inevitable. You knew the drill. Your gaze met first with the familiar form of Bokuto Kotaro, striding confidently towards the media area. You dared not let your eyes wander further; it was dangerous, far too dangerous.

But it seemed danger had a penchant for seeking you out. With eyes as cold as ice and a physique that demanded attention, Miya Atsumu fixed his gaze on you. As your eyes met his, he arched a brow, a smirk playing at his lips as he scanned you from head to toe.

This was unexpected, catching you off guard. Yet, you reminded yourself to stay resolute. You were here for the interview, and nothing would shake that resolve. A member of the MSBY management approached, handing you a paper.

"I apologize, Miss (name), but we can only spare 15 minutes for this interview. However, we have scheduled an off-camera interview with the team," they informed you.

You nodded, forcing a smile at your lips. Fifteen minutes was more than enough. You need to get this work done immediately anyways.

"U-umm…"

"Yes? Is there something else?" you asked, sensing the nervousness in their stutter. Remembering your own early days of stumbling over words, you made an effort to be understanding.

"Y-you're so pretty in person, Miss," the staff member blurted out before quickly turning away.

A laugh escaped you at their candidness, finding it endearing. It helped ease some of the tension, bolstering your confidence for the impending interview.

But of course, just when you thought the danger had passed, there he was—Miya Atsumu, heading towards you with that familiar smirk.

ah, here it is the danger.

• twenty three minutes later...

With trembling hands, you tried to compose yourself after that disastrous interview with Atsumu. In the taxi, tears threatened to fall as the film of the interview played in your mind. You found out that he had volunteered to handle the media and they found it amusing, considering it was out of character for him. Taking deep breaths, you watched your interview with him, grateful that you had at least managed to maintain your composure as you had rehearsed. If you hadn't known yourself and watched this, you would have never guessed you were once exes based on the interview.

Just as you thought you had survived the danger, it came back for you. After the interview, another journalist from a different company asked Atsumu why he had taken the lead in presenting himself to the media.

"I feel comfortable with (name)! I guess that's the reason," he replied casually.

"Oh, you mean, Miss (name), the one that interviewed you earlier?"

"Yeah, we knew each other…" he smiled, a glint of pain visible in his eyes.

The aftermath was a flood of texts, emails, and calls from your coworkers after they saw the clip. Frustrated and anxious, you personally emailed Atsumu's management requesting a meeting to ask him not to mention anything about your past again. His management agreed, asking to sign some documents first before scheduling your off camera interview with MSBY. You had thought that a staff member would be handing the paper works to you but, to your surprise, it was Atsumu himself who showed up.

and now here he stands, in a tight red button-up shirt, with a familiar dogtag hanging from his neck.

"You're a renowned journalist now…" his voice was soft, as if he was yearning.

You straighten your posture, making the best efforts to make this as professional as it should be.

"Please, let's get to the point…"

"I'm so proud of ya…" His lips quivered, you're just so....so pretty that he would die.

"Stop skirting the issue and stick to what's relevant." you replied coldly, but your hands are trembling.

he smirked, the previous yearning dissipated like it was never been there.

"Ahuh? why're you tryin' so hard to act like we didn't have somethin' before, hmm?"

"Why are you doing this…"

"I am just remindin' ya, (name), you know me."

He reached for the script from you and scanned the first page; the first part of this interview was about the player's introduction. In his opinion, you should have simply introduced him because you know him so well, you've seen everything, explored his mouth, and screamed his name.

"Are you forgettin' things now? Then let me remind you. Startin' with my name, I am Atsumu Miya."

"I know that you are the A-atsumu Miya.."

"Oh, didn't even stutter while sayin' my surname. I mean, of course, ya once asked me to give ya that, right?" he continued, flipping through the script. After the introduction of names, it stated that the interviewer should ask about Atsumu's relationships, so he decided to answer himself.

"Fer my relationships, I had a few flings before entering a serious one in my late second year. My relationship with that girl was so great… so amazin' that I kinda want to experience it again."

You shivered, feeling the weight of his words.

"But unfortunately, she broke up with me during a tournament match. Oh, why did ya flinch? That situation rings a bell, huh?" he smirked.

"'Tsumu…" you called out to him, and he was stunned.

"Quit it, please… I am truly sorry for my selfish acts. I know I couldn't make it up to you after all these years, but you are very successful now…"

your eyes were warm, you should not cry this is an interview, right?

"You could do something to make it up if you want to—"

"Please stop… Our breakup probably was the reason you're successful now! Right! You can't deny that. If we didn't break up, I could have been a burden, and maybe you wouldn't have reached your dreams, so please let's not—" you pleaded, desperate to end this conversation, but he cut you off.

"If we didn't break up, I could've won that match and become successful way sooner," he said with a stern voice and hurt yearning eyes.

"What do you want…" you whispered

"I am just—" he trailed off, trying to compose himself first.

"I am just reminding you that you know me. I can't bear the fact that I am the one who was left, but why am I the one who's restless about it? How can you act like you never loved me?"

"It's not like that, I am just trying to forget things—"

"Forget everythin' but not me."

he reached for your trembling hands, closing his eyes before kissing it.

"Please, not me…"

"Even if I have ta remind ya over and over again, I'll do it. Jus' don't forget about me. About us…"

He kissed your ring finger once more after carefully touching each one of your fingers. You should be aware that he hasn't changed and is still completely smitten.

"It was always you, baby. Can we—no, we will try again. You ain't forgettin' me."

You were left stunned, the weight of his words sinking in. The air crackled with unresolved emotions, the past colliding with the present. Atsumu Miya, the boy you once loved, stood before you, asking for another chance.

more about this series : TO BE POSTED! ( please check the link later ^^ )

up next : ????

[spiderlilydreams]

Warning: Alcohol, hangover, mentions of sex (but not in that much detail) MINORS DO NOT INTERRACT!!!

After the Party (part 2)

[Phinks, Hisoka, Chrollo, Illumi, Shalnark, Feitan]

Phinks -

After the intense multiple rounds of lovemaking, you both sneak out of the apartment together as the night is young. Phinks tells you he wants to take you somewhere, as he leads you to his motorcycle. You climb on behind him, gripping onto his muscular frame, the dazzling city lights glimmering as you both speed into the night. The rush consumes you, you laughing as you hug onto Phinks back, never wanting to let go. Phinks takes you to what seems to be a small mom and pop pizzeria. The older man and older woman take Phinks into their arms, cooing on how it's been so long since they've seen him. Phinks introduces you, you blushing, as you learn Phinks used to come to this same pizzeria all the time, and is friends with the owners. You both munch on greasy pizza, telling each other about your lives, the older couple giggling in the back watching you both, saying how you both are a cute couple. After eating the pizza and you both saying goodbye, Phinks navigates you somewhere new again. He seems to know all the best places. He brings you into a museum, specifically dragging you to the Egyptian mythology section. You both hold onto each other, laughing and consuming the history, enjoying each other. You even take some pictures, the one where you kiss Phinks cheek, becoming both of your wallpapers.

Hisoka -

You awake in his master bedrooms large bed, you hearing whistling and singing in what seems to be the kitchen. When you walk into the living room, you take in the wreckage of many passed out strangers, seeing things you thought you'd ever see. Hisoka is cooking eggs, as if everything is normal around him, singing in his pretty pink apron. He serves you, sitting next to you, smiling at you, his chin on his hands as he leans close. You ask him what he's smiling about, and he sings, "You're so beautiful, you know that?~" You blush, eating his surprisingly good eggs. The rest of the day, he takes you out to the city, his personal maids and butlers cleaning the party aftermath. You both enjoy delicious food, and he buys you whatever you want, you performing some private fashion shows for him. The whole time, Hisoka is smiling ear to ear. You think the end of the day is drawing near when the sun sets, you getting into his fancy car, until he turns to you. "How would you like being my pretty princess all the time?" Your heart fills with warmth, yelling yes over and over as you rapidly kiss Hisoka, him chuckling the whole time in glee.

Chrollo -

Chrollo, for the rest of the night, treats you like you are his Queen. He takes you to a five-star restaurant, letting you eat whatever you desire, sipping on red wine as he smirks in satisfaction. In the restaurant, Chrollo can't resist pulling you onto his lap in front of everyone, covering your neck and lips in adoring kisses. The people around you judge, but Chrollo glares at them, just pulling you in closer, protecting you from the sight. You end up in his own penthouse, it being much more regal and dark than Hisoka's, matching his more mysterious allure. He carries you to his bedroom, laying you softly onto the silky red sheets, leaving kisses on you from head to toe. You make love again and again. It never-ending as you both ride passionate orgasms, the King and Queen of the world beneath you. After many orgasms, he carries you to his large shower, pressing your back against the cool tiled wall, pulling your body in close as he enters you again, his hair getting wet as he stares at you with such longing and intensity. The night ends as he tells you to swear you'll never leave him.

You both intimately share how you feel this night was meant to happen. You both feel like you fit each other perfectly. He whispers in your ear, "I've finally found you..."

Illumi -

Passed out on Illumi still, he picks you up, not wanting to leave you alone at the party. He carries you to his families limo, brushing hair out of your face delicately. He sits you on his lap as you mumble how much you appreciate him, making Illumi blush a bit, surprised by his own reaction. He tries to leave you in a guest bedroom, but you whine as he goes to place you on the bed. Illumi, shocked slightly, continues to hold onto you. You begin crying again in the night, telling him not to leave you. Illumi tries to comprehend your emotions, carrying you to his room instead. He places you next to him in his large bed and lets you rest your head on his chest, you falling asleep again. He holds you close all night, on high alert if you ever toss and turn or talk in your sleep, him wanting to be there for you in some way, even if he was new to doing so. You woke up feeling ill and unable to move, Illumi carrying you to the bathroom, holding your hair back, rubbing your back so gently. You thanked him profusely, him just nodding his head, pulling you in for a hug, him never wanting you to leave his sight.

Shalnark -

After the party, Shalnark takes you to karaoke. Once again, it's a competition, except now with both of your voices, that you're both losing. Shalnark orders you both junk as he teases you about your singing voice. You end up play fighting, and he pushes you down onto the couch with a sly grin. You pout, and Shalnark teases you even more, making you blush. You both end up kissing each other, him still on top of you as your tongues fight for dominance. Shalnark ends up taking off his shirt, and you end up taking off your clothes as well, still in your undergarments. You're both so lost in a hazy lust that you forgot you ordered food. The server opens the door as you both are heavily kissing each other. The server almost drops all of your food, bewildered, but entranced, by the passionate sight in front of them. You both don't notice, so lost in a daze, and the server leaves like they were never there. You both end up neglecting the food, too lost in each other to care about anything else.

Feitan -

After what seems like hours of you talking to Feitan while he listens, you both end up sitting closer and closer together. The party dies down inside, and Feitan and you feel your night has just begun, never wanting the night to be over. Even though Feitan never speaks a word to you, you feel safe in his presence. Like you were meant to find each other tonight, on the beautiful balcony observing the colorful city below. After it seems some of the last people pass out inside, Feitan stands in front of you, offering you his hand. You take it, captivated as Feitan leads you into the night. You're both running towards a destination you do not know in the city, but Feitan seems to know. He leads you to a random tunnel opening. Most people would be afraid, but the thought doesn't even come to your mind, descending into the dark under city tunnels with the mysterious Feitan. He pulls you by your hand through the passageways, your guide through the darkness, just faint light from cracks in the cement above you. Then you both come to a room underground. There is graffiti everywhere, but also books scattered everywhere. Some old candles melting on the cement floor. A single lamp barely lighting the space, plugged into a rough looking outlet. Feitan takes off his coat, laying it on the ground, you being able to take in his toned, yet lean body underneath a long sleeve black shirt. You sit on his coat with him, as he takes out a lighter from his pocket, asking if you trust him. It's the first time he's spoke to you, his raspy voice giving you chills all over your body. You say yes, and he lights the candles around you, the dim flickering light tickling both of your faces in a warm glow. He stares into your eyes with a sense of longing for a while, before leaning in for a kiss with you. He's rough, inexperienced, but passionate. He ends up on top of you, hungrily devouring your lips, you responding with burning lust. Your moans echo as he kisses, licks, and bites you all over your body. Even though he's inexperienced, he has burning passion, you can feel with every rough touch he gives you, you both like wild animals consuming each other, groaning, whining, panting, growling. You experience many orgasms in the barely lit underground, the experience intimate to just the two of you, the city above you a whole other world, but as above, so below coming to thought as you both feel the most alive you've ever felt, connected together under the city in your own unique way.

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART II | wc. 5.4K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' webtoon | overview. This Webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.

sum. You were running too fast in life, so fast that no one could catch up, not even Morax who left you to fend off with your curse. Just when you thought you'll slip and fall, a certain consultant came behind and caught you.

cw. mentions of extreme emotion breakdown. cttro 双niarss on Twitter for the art below.

main m.list genshin m.mlist

PART I < PART II

THEME SONG; Slump by Stray Kids (English Version)

There are five stages of grief; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. All in order.

In your case, it was the other way around. You have long accepted Morax will lay on his deathbed one day, every living thing will eventually cease to exist, mortal and immortal alike

You, out of all people know the in-depth concept of death.

And yet, no amount of tutelage or experience can prepare you for the real thing.

Now you understood what Morax felt when you died.

Your chest feels raw like there's a sudden gash wound that has manifested in your heart. It was painful, too painful that you wouldn't wish it upon anyone, even on your worst enemy.

Scratch that. It's not just pain. It feels something more destructive, demanding and insatiable, crueler than sorrow. Not even death can appease this feeling.

It was agony.

Impale your abdomen with a spear hundred times. Sever your limbs every lifetime. Suffer for all eternity hiding behind Morax and watch him love with someone else over and over again— you'd take them all and say thank you.

You'd be grateful and endure each of them just to trade whatever horrible feeling that's tearing you apart.

Confusion, terror and fright blanketed your mind as you slumped on the floorboards, desperately gasping for breath.

The acrid smell of snarling lightning crackles in the stale midnight air, sharp enough to singe every nerve of your body, rendering you cowering in overwhelming emotions— agony, pain and grief.

Inazuma was bustling with the news of the Geo Archon passing away recently. You could only imagine how Liyue is digesting the cruel twists of events.

The news spreads fast enough for foreign people to sympathize to Liyue citizens, some even offered prayers to the Raiden Shogun, some pay their respects by wishing the late Archon to rest in peace, some never bothered to care.

But none of them mourned in the confinements of their four walls as you did, the Celestia above knows the quiet sobs that wrecked the very core of your existence. The horrors of every shitty lives you went through cannot be compared to this day.

Rex Lapis, who is— was widely known for many names, mostly as the Geo Archon, God of War, God of Contracts, Former Prime Adepti, the Stonebreaker, God of History is now reduced by dust with his people carrying the legacy he has passed on.

To you, all this time, he's still... Morax the petulant child who leans on you for comfort, who politely demands you to sing a lullaby as kids. You're already sold to the idea no one would ever believe you if you told them what embodiment of mischief he was in the ancient times, the exact opposite of the Archon they knew about.

Nostalgia hits you in particular days you can't find traces of the young Morax, but Pride would caress your heart every achievement he succeeds as you watch the people love him.

Similar to a lone planet, you desperately search for a star to orbit around, to give you a source of energy and strength. Once you find one, it'll be difficult to rearrange your position after you have settled down, you're attached until the star loses its amber glow.

And now the star is gone. Gone with the cosmos after a supernova.

Destroying the neighboring planets, including you.

You were the closest in its orbit, you're the one who had to endure the scorching flames morphing you into ashes until you're reduced into cosmos particles for no one to remember.

Morax left you to fend off with your curse and face adversities alone.

Mortals would succumb to these adversities and would choose to sever their connection to the living to escape from everything. You've seen a handful of them and can't ever get enough of it.

If there's anything you long to have other than having Morax beside you is a swift escape.

Every mortal is capable of such thing, you are too, but it's pointless if the pain will cling to you in your next life. It's fruitless to cry when you know every affliction won't be forgotten even if you tried.

Just why?! Why do I have this perpetual curse of reincarnation? I abhor you, Celestia! Not only you cursed me, you even took away Morax from this land!

You shake your head as the anger surge took over your sanity. You thought you can just go live your merry life, unbeknownst how dependent you were to Morax.

Your will to live is solely operated by the fact you have someone you want to protect. But now he's gone? What's the back up plan? Clearly you can't just follow him in his death knowing you can die, but your memories will remain with you.

Was it out of selfishness to protect him to have someone accompany your lonely soul? Because he's the only one who actually remembers the real you?

Rain began to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard disembodied voices theorizing Morax's death. The muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of today's unsavory news. How convenient, the sky is sympathizing.

No, make it stop! I don't want fo hear any of it! Morax is dead, that's how nature works. I'm griefing because it hurts, not because I have nothing to live for.

You lived in that illusion for minutes until. . .

*drip* *drip*

. . . the dam broke.

Hot tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the pain would stop, just numbing it would be fine too. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time, and sat there unmoving.

There's no see you later's anymore, for Morax has left you. Today has marked your first Goodbye to him.

For an indiscernible amount of time, there was only a black void and it could have been as if you didn’t exist and you had never existed.

And then you felt each of your cells that had been ripped apart within seconds be sewed back together just as quickly, and your eyes met nothing but a blinding white light.

Have I reborn again? You're not aware which is which anymore. You lift your numb hand and reality crashed over your head, you haven't died out of grief, yet.

Your mind is in havoc, you don't know what you want, not that you have any choice.

Dying won't help you escape, forgetting is not an option, loving. . . can't heal an open wound.

No words can equate the absolute devastation you feel.

❖ ── ✦ ── 『 6000 YRS AGO 』 ── ✦ ── ❖

This is stupid. Utterly ridiculous!

What kind of mortal would go in the mines in the middle of the night where monsters lurk in the shadows to hunt for preys? Yeah, that's a question he would like for you to answer!

He flies twice the speed he usually exerts, his mind running rampant of all worst possible scenarios.

He doesn't know what compelled you to do such ridiculous act, but all he knows is he has get to you before any monsters do.

Landing unceremoniously, he gulps at the sight before him. He was never a fan of darkness, it never fails to instill fear in him, the fear of the unknown.

The only time he feels comfortable in the night is whenever you're around him. You don't fear the night, and it somehow influenced him in a way that there's nothing that should be afraid of as long as you're with him— as his human shield.

Young Morax finds himself slowly withdrawing, the fear overpowering his will to come and save you.

"Morax? What are you doing out here?" Saved by the gracious voice of yours, young Morax nearly broke his neck with how fast he looked at your direction.

Your face is contorted out of concern for him, he's sweating profusely and his breathing is ragged.

Just seeing you all in one piece with no signs of injuries made hin slumped on the ground, sighing in relief.

You were at his side seconds later, subconsciously caressing his cheeks. Celestia above! He's shaking like a leaf!

"It's alright, let's get you out of here." Your soothing voice appeased his troubled mind as you helped him get back on his feet. He clutches the fabric of your shirt and wordlessly launches himself on you, arms and tiny tail entrapping you in an embrace.

You waste no second reciprocating the gesture, you've known him for months to be comfortable with physical sentiments. Though you can't say the same to him as he would always flinch away when you initiate it, but has no problem when he does it.

And it seems like he needs your comfort to even give a damn.

"Whatever it is, it can't hurt you now okay?"

From that angle, he peered from below you as if confirming the validity of your words, amber eyes looking like someone has kicked an innocent puppy, it's no wonder you have a soft spot for him.

Both of you strayed away from the caves leading to mines, "I-I thought you l-left me." He meekly mumbled, almost incoherent.

That baffles you as he continues, "I overheard f-from your village that m-monsters are increasing in the area and you're probably..."

"Shh... I'm here now, aren't I? I'm sorry you have to hear that, I can assure you I haven't encountered any marauding monsters during my little excursion." You sighed, guilt pooling your conscience.

He sniffled, "So, you're not going to leave me?"

"Can I even go anywhere when you have a sharp sense of smell?"

"I'm a dragon, not a wolf." He whined, though you could still see the glint of dubious in his eyes, "Can I trust your word?"

Words never served him better than actions, you ought to show him you honor your word by affirming it through gestures.

Smiling, you offered your hand to him.

"How about you hold my hand on our way home? Will that help?" He stares at you and literally contemplated before he relented.

It's warm, much similar to your hug, but like a form of hug that has been reduced to a smaller fraction. It's still a paragon of comfort.

Surely enough, it did help his mind to be at ease. If you ever feel like he's cutting off your circulation, he is cutting your circulation by intertwining your fingers as if trying to tangle it so it won't loose.

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm stupid for cowering away just because of some stupid dark cave." He lowered his head in shame.

He's a Dragon who has greater strength than most beings, and yet he lets his fear consume him as if they can hurt him like how—

"Nonsense! Don't ever think like that or I will personally be the reason why you should fear humans." As stern as you sound, your eyes tell a different story.

Young Morax deduced this as concern, which resulted a flustered and heartwarming reaction from the boy. You were worried for him.

It shouldn't be something he's supposed to feel happy about, but your fretful intentions warranted warmth and security in his mind.

"I didn't know how oddly. . . pleasant it is to hold hands." He mused, and you responded with an amused giggle, "Here I thought only couples do this stuff, but it's really reassuring."

"It does, doesn't it? Sometimes the solution to your conflicts is in a form of validation."

Too wise for a kid, he inwardly complained, ". . .Meaning?"

You hold his other hand and stood to face him with a sequined smile, "No matter how minuscule or massive your fears are, you'll still find comfort when someone validates your feelings; to let you know that they care. It may not be the solution in some cases, but it's better than being alone in times of your vulnerability."

You leaned slightly closer, "Can I ask you a favor?" Your gaze pierced right through his soul and he can only nod absently which resulted for you to grin.

"If you see someone, friend and stranger even enemies, looking so vulnerable that they actually might cry. . ." You lifted your intertwined hands with his, ". . .Make them feel significant."

A cold midnight wind whisked past the both of you, your eyes shone brighter than jewels and stars alike as you spoke those words that made a huge impact in his life.

". . .Even if my enemies are about to cry because I'm about to end their miserable lives?"

What a way to ruin the moment.

"You know what I mean, Mora." You deadpan, preparing to let go of his hand, but his grip is much stronger and it only tightens once he feels you're trying to detach.

"I'm afraid you have to elaborate further, Y/N. And please, I only have two syllables in my name. What's so hard in including the X?" In contrast to his words, he quite enjoys hearing his nickname.

"The X is not even a syllable, Mora."

That time, young Morax found peace.

He's always on the hunt for something new, something glimmering, something incredible, something undiscovered and something bedazzling. That's how his childlike brain thinks and he seizes anything outwardly beautiful.

But he never knew how amazing it was to see something— or rather, to see someone's beauty on the inside.

Perhaps that's what draws him to you, because of your voice, patience and understanding. He would never admit it though

To him, you're beautiful inside and out, almost perfect, even your flaws are easy to love.

He can't deny he wasted a few immortal years just mourning your death, you'd probably scold him.

Within those years, he's only reliving the memories and wise words you have with him. He wanted to come out as a better person after your death, take it as an honour of your passing.

You made him for what he is.

If he hadn't met you he'd still be the intolerable, impatient and disrespectful person as he grows up.

He'd still fear the unknown, never having the courage to take risks and accept whatever outcomes.

Everything he does always brings him back to you, his actions always correlates to something that's relevant about you. It had always been you.

He prays the Celestia to let you know you will always be apart of his person. Yes, you died, but every lingering piece of you still remains intact in the deep recesses of his mind.

He has moved on, but you remain the person he loved the most. Not even the sands of time has the capability to change that.

"How disastrous. People can be really simple-minded." Morax rubbed both of his temples once he heard the speculation of him and Guizhong plausible relationship.

"I apologize on their behalf, it never crossed my mind they'll be quick to make assumptions." The fair Goddess bowed in shame.

"You have done nothing wrong to spark such rumors, Guizhong. If anything, it is I who should seek forgiveness for I have tied you down with such unpleasant gossips."

She meekly chuckles, "If we're going to paint ourselves as the culprit then we might as well work together to quell the rumors."

His perfectly lined eyebrows knitted, which didn't go unnoticed by Guizhong, "What seems to be troubling your mind?"

A few seconds ticked by before he let out a whisper that only Barbatos can only hear thanks to his wind. For Guizhong who has keen sense of hearing, "If Y/N was here I'll gear up for another war just to extinguish this spreading rumors." She stifled a laugh.

Oh, she knows alright. She knows you. She knows the person who captivated Morax's heart, it's all about he talks to her in their leisure time and you're not a secret between their comrades.

Most people would find it dull to listen about someone's life unless it held any merit to pass onto the other mouth, she would too. But Morax describes you like a protagonist of a fairy tale, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence that racked his existence— which makes you an interesting person

She was so eager to meet you, it was rather unfortunate that you've already passed on uncountable years ago.

"Where are you going?" She inquired as the Geo Archon whisk passed her, "Out to visit an old friend. I won't be returning until tomorrow dawn."

She sighed, a corresponding smile soon follows as she took over his job for the meantime.

Morax walked through the barren areas in Mt. Tianheng, it became part of his leisure activities during the day when his mind needs to detach itself from reality and let himself be swayed by the memories he tucked in the deep recesses of his mind.

Memories of his late comrades who perished in the horrors of war and the most painful but nostalgic one; Y/N.

He ruefully sighed at the thought of you. Even in death, you have full grasp of his heart and shroud his head with your image.

Filtered beams of light accented the spaces between the ancient trees that twisted like spires from the undergrowth. Golden leaves littered the forest floor as Morax appraised the trail of mycelium path, one leading to a particular tree.

His expression remains unchanging, at least that's what he thought, any stranger sees him they'll stop to ponder what made this godly man smile so fondly.

A single maple leaf flow with the breeze, swaying in inconsistent direction until it falls in his gloved hand. The rich color of autumn and texture brings him back in his youthful days.

[ cttro papercider on Twitter ]

"Ah! All I do is reminisce to pass time." He muttered to himself as he let the leaf get carried away by the zither winds once again.

"It certainly has been awhile, Y/N. I was but a petulant child since I've visited you. I now stand here as the Geo Archon." It has been a habit to come back to this specific tree and treats it as his home.

It's a sacred place he's closely attached to, he can perfectly picture his young self failing to spy on you. He grimaced at the memory when he was caught in the act.

"I still have no idea why you let me trail your shadows, you weren't least afraid that I'm a dragon. You told me you're fascinated, but. . . was that the only reason?"

Only the breeze answered for him with nothing, "If you hadn't allowed me to do so I do not know what kind of person I would be as of today." He steps closer and pulled off his hood.

He let the silence hang for minutes, maybe even hours. Just standing there as he appreciates what nature has to offer in the place where his story began with you.

"Are you proud of me? My comrades claimed they were more than proud to stand alongside with me, but I doubt the veracity of their words when I led them to their demise. Is it that prideful to have me as a friend when I bring nothing but misfortune?"

He finally sat down between the roots of the tree, relishing the blissful comfort as the sunlight accentuates his godly features.

"I met a boy who was being manipulated by an evil god who only desires power and selfish gains." He began.

"He was a fierce warrior, strong and capable, the manipulation only fuels him to be at his strongest form. I was thinking of eradicating him, but his eyes already looked so dead. It reminded me of. . ."

He holds his tongue and shuts his eyes as he's in pain, "It would be one of my greatest regrets if I had impaled my spear into him."

"I thought of you that time. Hadn't it been to my promise to you, I wouldn't have gained a new ally. Xiao is his name."

The wind blew stronger, ". . . I forgot you can summon him just by calling out his name." He chuckles to himself.

Green statics cracked into the air and quickly revealed a masked man with his polearm readied for any danger.

"Settle down now. I apologize, your name slipped in my mouth." The young Yaksha visibly looked confused even under the layers of his mask.

"I was narrating a story to my old friend Y/N."

Guizhong couldn't have been more right.

By the end of the day, Xiao now knows every detail there is to know about the person called Y/N. It's what Morax ever talk to him.

"Mr. Zhongli is in a very elated mood ever since you told him Archon knows what, Traveler." Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor finds the situation quite absurd to look at, but never impossible. His mood just feels out of place.

Who looks at mournful families with an eccentric smile on their face as they consult them about their loved one's death?

"Why does Paimon feel like you're pointing finger at the traveler?" She puts her tiny hands on tiny her hips like a mother hen.

The Traveler let out a nervous laugh, "I wonder what exactly brought him in such high spirit with my words."

"Ooh... Paimon thinks it's about Y/N. Isn't it obvious by now?" Hu Tao furrowed her eyebrows, "Y/N? You mean the Adventurer?" Both heads snapped at her direction, "You know them?"

She reluctantly shrugged, "Only at acquaintance level. They showed interest in business and I taught them a few things." She smiled at the epilogue of her statement.

"If they ever come back, my hunch tells me you'd find them in Wangshu Inn, they frequented there before." She added before turning her attention to a new customer.

Zhongli, who's been eavesdropping, perked up at the claims. Perhaps he should visit Xiao tonight and totally won't inquire if he ever met you before.

Midnight falls and Zhongli bid his farewell to the traveler before heading towards the Wangshu Inn.

For some unknown reason, Zhongli could sense the foreboding feeling that's nagging his instincts as he gets closer to his desired destination, yet he doesn't stop. What's worse is that he doesn't know if it's for the good or bad.

All of a sudden, a harsh breeze blew past his face as if the winds attempting to convey a message that's only for his intuition to decipher, for him to meander.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his statue glowing bright blue, but that wasn't what caught his attention. A hand reached out to touch the stone statue.

A mop of [H/C] facing him backward bowed down in respect of the late Rex Lapis, but Zhongli could feel a much more intense feeling.

Something stirs inside him, he remembers this situation— when he watched Y/N with such fascination from above the tree, not knowing what they look like, yet they never fail to express their feelings through threaded words he finds so wondrous to hear.

In contrary to that, the person appears to be. . . forlorn. He stepped closer until he's only less than five meters away from them.

All of a sudden, he feels skittish around the person. It's as if he doesn't want to leave a bad first impression, he's suddenly self-conscious of his looks, and Zhongli never cared about his outer appearance.

Then they spoke, in a solemn voice.

"See you later, Mora. I hope you found your eternal peace."

There are times when you wish you'd forget Morax, some that you don't. But still, in the birth of new beings, you will find Morax in his next life. The prospect of being alone is a phobia you can't ever overcome unless you have Morax.

What a joke. It should've been a farewell. Your final goodbye to your old friend. Not a hopeless see you later.

It took you months to come with that mindset, only to end up saying what's the exact opposite.

It was difficult to come back in Liyue, every step adds a new pile of memory that drags you further into the depths of agony. Every where you look reminds you of the late Geo Archon. Each encouraging word in your mind gets trampled on by his image.

You consider it as an achievement to stand tall in front of his statue after his death, and a failure that you didn't get to bid your final words to him before you depart from Liyue.

You're still clinging to a nonexistent hope that you'll actually get to see him even after your death. Old habits die hard they say. It couldn't have been more relatable than now.

Sighing in disappointment, you retracted your hand from the statue and briskly turn around when you felt the disturbance behind you.

A gloved hand suspended in the air seems to be trying to reach out to you. As you raise your eyes to meet the oh-so-familiar glowing amber eyes that you grew to love. . .

You offered the stranger a faux smile, seemingly naive to the person standing in front of you with an aghast expression.

You failed to realize Morax as Zhongli just as Morax failed to realize you in your different lives.

"Hello. How may I help you?"

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Time has stopped, both hands of the clock moved counterclockwise, bringing him back to the time he first laid his eyes on you— so unsuspecting from what's about to unravel after a sweet hello.

His broadened eyes are solely fixated on you, it ingnited a feeling he couldn’t immediately identify, a sense of a certain and long-forgotten familiarity fogged his memory.

From the color of your eyes, skin and hair. The subtle furrow of your eyebrows and the upturn of your lips. The gentle facade that compelled him to indulge his curiosity towards you.

Y/N. . . Are you the Y/N the traveler was talking about?

But you bare no resemblance to the Y/N he knew, yet he can tell how it is your soul residing in the mortal's body. It is you. Your eyes aren't the ones that welcomed him as new friend. It feels different.

You're smiling while your eyes are grieving.

Your eyes failed to conceal your weeping soul and could only hope the last bits of its strength will keep it standing until someone reach a hand to put back the shattered pieces.

Behind that gleeful stare was a mountain of pain and extracting it would bring instability to the person who would dare to climb. Yet come what may, you're always worth any risk.

He lowered his hand to shake yours, his lips upturned into an enigmatic smile.

Your heart went erratic and the usually dormant butterflies imploded in your stomach. You haven't felt like a teenager since. . .

You felt your breath hitch in your throat when suddenly, with a mere handful of strides, the beautiful man was standing right in front of you, his amber eyes searching your face intently, trying to find whatever it was he was seeking.

"My name is Zhongli, I'm a consultant in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor." Your [E/C] eyes blinked surreptitiously before accepting it. What a beautiful name, you thought almost immediately.

Under normal circumstances you would've strictly reprimanded the man with his incongruous advances, but you felt something else, something so powerful it overshadowed your senses.

It was a need, an unyielding need to be close to him.

Rather than pushing him away, something inside you stirs awake and begin to implore to coalesce with his existence.

"I'm Y/N L/N, an adventurer."

So it is really you.

He briefly looks down to their intwined hands.

For countless nights, the image of your bloodied hand reaching out to him as you take your last breath plagued his every dream. The tender, soft hands that will no longer bring him comfort. The hand of the person whom he loved so dearly, whom he failed to protect against the wicked ways of the world.

The intense urge to hide you away from the prying eyes that shared similarities to his kept his mind in shambles.

Which what led him to mumble to you what his thoughts are repeating like a mantra.

When he spoke the promise he'll show you what's up at the highest altitude his wings could go, he was mostly speaking out of his selfish desire to hold onto your hand and fly you away to the farthest place no living creatures have ever stumbled upon.

He had to learn it the hard way; that the greater you wish for something, the crueler fate can be. Maybe if he hadn't been so greedy you could've live your mortal life.

Now that you are standing in front of him, shaking your hand, he can amend his mistake by straying far away from you before he repeats history itself, before he could inflict pain on you again.

And yet, looking at you attempting to shoulder the boulders of life is what all it takes for all the wisdom he garnered for centuries to be thrown out the window.

He can't imagine himself distancing from you when you're suffering and have no one comfortable enough to share your burdens with, no one to validate your feelings, no one to embrace you in your vulnerable times.

You taught him to be compassionate, to not disregard emotions, and he's about to set that in motion. You were there when he needed you the most, offered your shoulder to vent out his feelings, it's about time to let him do what you always did for him.

It became abundantly clear he's not willing to let you go through anything alone just like he had gone through without you.

"You claim you're a consultant. Did you perhaps think I'm a potential customer?"

He let go of your hand as much as he loathes being away from your warmth for even just a second, he's still convinced you can be taken away from him at any given moment.

"Indeed, I couldn't stand idle and watch you grieve alone." He watches how you averted your eyes as if hiding the pain would appease your mind.

"I appreciate the thought. . . though, I highly doubt it'll be effective."

He mentally chuckled at the irony. He, too, was once amazed of what simple gestures can bring to a downhearted person.

"Hmm. An old friend once showed me how to console a person. Allow me to share their insights."

Your eye brows perched in curiosity, this man speaks like he's in his 50s or something, ". . .If you insist. I could use a company for now."

Morax experienced eons of desires to attain what he wishes to, though he refrains from being blinded by those greedy thoughts as he had witnessed how cruel fate can be when he once desired to have you. Will history repeat itself?

Zhongli chortles in response, but his expression soon turned nostalgic, "I may not know what adversities you're facing nor do I know who you are, but know that you're never alone."

His smile never left his face as he takes off his glove and held the palm face forward to you, he watches how your eyes glisten with unshed tears, "W-What is that supposed to convey?"

You didn't even notice how much gap he closed just to increase the proximity between the both of you. Archons! You can smell the lingering scent of Osmanthus Wine mingling with his breath!

Is he a drunkard like Venti?

Perhaps this man is drunk to comprehend his actions, perhaps he won't remember this the never next day, perhaps he has mistaken you for someone else, perhaps—

"Wherever you wish to go, I'll keep you company. I dare ask if I may hold your hand along the way, Y/N?"

Perhaps there's hope you can cling onto until your aching heart is at ease.

Your hand found its way to his, almost too desperate to not let this moment of comfort vanish. Just this once, you thought to yourself as the man smiled with absolute glee that it puts the sun in shame.

Out of reflex, your fingers laced with his, wanting nothing more than to relieve in the warmth of his hand. His expression soon turned into a priceless one as if he's in disbelief that you actually just did that, and that alone made the realization struck you harder than Raiden's lightning and fried your nerves with embarrassment.

"I-I'm so-sorry! I didn't mean to get too comfortable!"

You're a stranger to him, and you acted as if you've been a longtime friends. He must have been feeling uncomfortable, you nervously thought as you quickly tried reel back your hand in an attempt to salvage whatever budding acquaintanceship you have.

Keyword; tried.

Your action prompts him to retaliate by locking his fingers in place, keeping your hand sealed with his and shot you a reassuring smile.

"Do not fret. I'm delighted to know I somehow earned a little fraction of your trust. It's only fair to mirror the trust you gave me."

As if to spell out his point, he held up your intertwined hands just below your chin. His eyes blazed with a newfound emotion you couldn't decipher. He almost looks eager. He was gripping your hand, not too tight, but firm enough give emphasize of something.

His action wasn't fruitless as it gained a reaction from you. Your eyebrows twitched, there's something too familiar about it, but your memory refuses to give you that answer.

Instead, you could only mutter weak responses, "I-I understand, but if you feel uncomfortable in any way then don't hesitate to point out what I'm doing wrong."

Whether it was a satisfying answer he wants to hear, his emotions betrayed to even give you a brief answer and his face only lit up as he turns away from you, "You could never do anything wrong in my eyes."

Did he just say something? "What was that?"

"Nothing. Are you new in Liyue? I could give you a tour if you'd like to make you familiarize with the environment."

Your lips turned into a genuine smile, it didn't reach your ears but something tells you this man will lengthen it until you're the happiest person alive, "I'd love to, Zhongli."

As the wind blows to the East, a new chapter has began with a new retelling of their unfinished story. Until the last maple leaf falls and the oldest standing tree drought, two souls will always find their way to rekindle what has been lost.

>> PART III

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzarr @katsuissus @tartarsaucechi1de @spyanya @tikitsune @shoujishu @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @xiamuyi @lemonlimesocks @belletifeshyl @alexon-mars @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @orginiallyann @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @kamukayakmonyet @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @yamtwt @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @fauxizs @islxisl @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @akaritenchi @sophiee-bush @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @almighty-raiden-shogunate

(it's my first time doing tags so pls inform me if it's not working, idk why the others are white, did I do something wrong??)

PS. if you want to get tagged for the next part or be removed then simply comment it TAGLIST is for the readers who want to be updated for my future genshin works.

─ 𝐀/𝐍. Can you all smell that? *sniff sniff* I smell a Xiao ver. of this 👀👀 Fr, I didn't expect the fic will be loved that much as I initially thought, I received many appreciative comments and messages which is what motivated me to write part 2, and possibly part 3 (just for the fluff) since this was supposed to be a series but I crossed that idea out until everyone broke my expectation. Thank you💜💙 and merry christmas everyone ❤💚

[misc-obeyme]

Satan with "I want to taste you." since he hasn't gotten a NSFW one for this event yet?

Hello, anon!

Oh man, I love Satan. This is probably a pretty regular scenario for him, but there is just something about the back of the library...

Thanks for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Satan with prompt "I want to taste you."

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: semi-public, oral (reader receiving)

You were sitting next to Satan in your History of the Devildom class and you were bored out of your mind. Normally this class was interesting, but today the professor droned on and on about the lineage of demon kings that you had never heard of. He was going into unnecessary detail, listing the names of their various pets and cousins, like any of that mattered at all. You also struggled with understanding the timeline of things, since all of these demons had lived for millions of years each.

The professor's monotone voice, the late afternoon hour, and the fact that this was your last class of the day was all enough to make you start feeling sleepy.

Beside you, Satan was taking meticulous notes, as he always did. You let out a little sigh before leaning against his shoulder, letting your eyes flutter closed.

Suddenly the bell rang, indicating the end of class. It jerked you awake and you sat up quickly, looking around. Satan had not tried to wake you it seemed, but you weren't sure how long you had been asleep on his shoulder.

Satan put his notes away carefully then turned to you with a little frown. "Did you retain any of the information from this class, MC?"

You blushed. "Um. Well-"

Satan shook his head. "I can already tell that you didn't. Come on, let's go to the library. You'll need to study some of this now because there's a test coming up. I'll help you."

You gathered your things and followed Satan to the library, relieved that he was willing to help you with this particular subject. It was so dull and you knew that he would be able to help you remember things so you wouldn't fail the test.

The two of you claimed a table in the library, setting your things down on top of it.

"Come on," Satan said. "We'll need some books."

You followed Satan through the shelves, surprised at how far back into them he was going. "Um, where are these books?"

"There are genealogy reference books for the demon kings going extremely far back," Satan said. "We'll need a few from the beginning."

You followed along behind him, looking at the other books on the shelves as you went.

You had reached a dark part of the library now, where there was nothing but shelves of books all around you. The lighting was dim and there didn't appear to be anyone around. It was also slightly dusty, as though nobody came back this far.

You paused as a book from within the references caught your eye. You pulled it off the shelf and looked down at the cover. It had a fantastic painting of a very fluffy cat. The inscription declared that this was the reference book containing information on all the pet cats that had ever been owned by the Devildom's royal family.

"Satan!" you exclaimed, turning the book to him so he could see the cover and smiling brightly at him. "Look at this! It's a reference of all the demon kings' pet cats!"

The expression on Satan's face became so intense your heart skipped a beat. He walked back toward you, took the book out of your hands, and placed it carefully on top of some other books on the shelf. Then he pulled you close and kissed you.

You were so surprised, you didn't react at first. But soon the feeling of his lips against yours, the heated and almost desperate way he had pulled you into him, caused you to melt. You put your arms around him and kissed him back.

Satan turned you so your back was up against the bookshelves. You let your back arch as he bit down lightly on your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, his fingers moving beneath the edge of your uniform.

You gasped as you pulled away for air. "Satan," you said, still a little confused about what brought this on.

"Forgive me, MC," Satan said. The depth of his voice made your knees weak. "Just the way you looked at me when you found that book about the cats… I can't help myself. I want to taste you."

You laughed softly. Of course. You should have known. The level of excitement you had displayed when you showed Satan that book had triggered this response in him. You looked at the blush on his face, the way he couldn't quite look you in the eye, and were overwhelmed by how much you wanted him in that moment.

"It's okay," you said. You reached out a hand, putting your fingers on his lips. "I want you, too."

Satan kissed you again before he sank to his knees before you. He moved just enough of your uniform to give him access to you, revealing the fact that your body was already reacting with desire for him. Satan glanced up at you for a moment before he put his mouth on that tender place, gently and sweetly, eliciting a moan from you as you clutched the shelves at your back.

His hands held your hips as he expertly used his tongue, building the pleasure that was tightening in your belly. You gasped, trying to stay quiet, hoping that nobody was near enough to this seemingly abandoned back space to hear you. You moaned his name as your hand flew to his hair, fingers tightening on it.

Satan didn't seem to mind, only carrying on with making you lose your mind pressed against the reference books.

Your legs were shaking now. It felt so good, but it just wasn't enough and Satan knew it. He was being deliberately teasing, bringing you close to the edge only to pull back and let the cool air hit you, bringing you back down. Before you could fully relax, he moved back in, pulling the pleasure through you again as you tried not to pull on his hair too hard.

"Satan, please," you begged quietly. "Please, I can't take anymore."

Satan pulled away to look up at you, likely taking in the way you were breathing heavily, your eyelids half closed, your skin shining with a thin layer of sweat.

"Hmm," he hummed, his hands tightening on your hips. "What is it you want, MC?"

You groaned and twisted your fingers in his hair. "Please, stop teasing me… I'm so close… please…"

Satan didn't ask you again. He could have waited for you to form a coherent sentence, but really he just wanted to see you lose yourself against the library shelves. He put his mouth on you and sucked. You had to put a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from crying out. The other hand continued to twist in his hair.

You were squirming there between him and the books, feeling that sweetness build and build within you. Satan mercifully didn't pull away, this time only sucking and licking and bringing the stimulation to its peak. You saw stars as you finally came, biting on your lip in an attempt to be quiet, but letting out a low moan in your throat anyway.

As you dropped your hand from your mouth and sucked in big breaths of air, Satan put your uniform back the way it was meant to be. He stood up and leaned over you, one hand on the shelves behind you, the other coming up to wipe some of your cum from his lips.

You put your hands on his chest to steady yourself, your legs still weak from your orgasm, and looked into his eyes as you caught your breath.

"I can't believe that just happened back here with all these dusty books," you said.

Satan smiled and grabbed the book about cats from the shelf near your head. "If we're ever back here again, you'll need to be more careful about how you look at me. Otherwise I won't be able to guarantee that more won't happen here with all of these dusty books."

You felt yourself flush at the thought, images flooding your mind of what exactly that could mean.

Satan kissed you, sweetly and softly, before taking your hand and leading you further down the shelves to the books you still needed for studying.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[melintowriting]

The first Empress-Chapter 3

Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait but writing and translating this chapter turned out to be more difficult than I thought. Hope you'll like it!

Warnings: arranged marriage, smut (+18), mentions of SA (by the Baron on Feyd)

Word count: 5.052

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

The spaceship arrived on Giedi Prime after nearly four days of journey, during which Megan and Feyd had tried to get to know each other a little. Feyd had not spoken much about himself: he had simply told her that he loved killing and fighting in the arena, nothing more. As for her, he had discovered more interesting things. The young woman loved reading, riding horses, history and politics, an unusual passion for a woman, he thought. 

His uncle once told him that intelligence was a wasted quality in a woman; but Feyd disagreed. All his life he had only dealt with naive and useless women that were easy to manipulate. He kind of enjoyed the fact that his wife was smart and a woman worthy of his attention.

After that long journey Megan felt tired: many months had passed since the last interspace journey she had undertaken. She had gone to Caladan for an imperial visit to her uncle Leto. That was probably the last time she had visited her mother’s homeworld, but she didn’t know it at the time.

Her husky husband’s voice echoed from behind her as the doors of the spaceship opened, revealing the gray and gloomy sky of the capital.

"Welcome to Giedi Prime, wife." he said with a wide smile, taking her hand.

Megan and Jeremy exchanged a quick look. 

What horrible place was that? They had grown up on a green planet with beautiful landscapes, and now they had both ended up in an industrial hell.

The Na-Baron and the Na-Baroness got off the ship immediately after Baron Vladimir, greeted by soldiers’ chants in Harkonnen language. Behind the ranks of the military there were the faces of ordinary people. Men, women, children, all united by the typical features of Giedi Prime.

Jeremy, who stood faithfully behind his sister almost in a protective way, noticed the way they looked at her. They were curious, almost impatient. They looked at her with hopeful eyes. 

-The Bene Gesserit.- he thought -They prepared the people for our arrival. -

Megan walked neatly beside her husband.

She could feel his big hand holding hers.

"Do you like it?" he asked, continuing to walk on the long walkway that would have led them to the fortress.

Megan looked around, unsure whether or not to tell the truth.

"It’s a kind of planet I’m not used to." she decided to say.

Feyd looked at her, amused.

"Is that a subtle way of saying you don’t like it?"

"It’s a way of saying I have to get used to it." the girl promptly replied.

Her eyes inevitably met the ones of the common people behind the soldiers, intent on observing her while whispering.

"What’s going on?" Megan asked, noticing that the atmosphere was starting to warm up.

People had begun to speak louder and the soldiers had begun to arm themselves, ready to protect the noble family.

Feyd raised an eyebrow: he was confused as much as she was.

"Uncle." Feyd said, catching the Baron’s attention.

"This scum!" the Baron exclaimed, annoyed and angry.

Jeremy instinctively approached his sister, ready to defend her from any threat, asking, "What are they shouting?" 

The screams were in Harkonnen language, an unknown language to the twins.

Feyd stopped to look at the agitated crowd, trying to figure out what they were shouting. 

"Na-Baron." 

A slimy and subtle voice caught his attention. It was Piter De Vries.

"It’s not wise to stay out here." he said, trying to keep his cool, "You and your bride must go immediately to the fortress."

"What are they shouting?" he asked, ignoring his recommendation.

And then he heard. He heard what they were shouting and he understood who they were shouting at.

"Liberator! Liberator!" they kept saying, pointing at Megan, begging her to free them.

It was her voice that brought him back to reality.

"Feyd, will you tell me what’s going on?" she insisted, slightly squeezing his hand to get his attention.

"Let’s go." he simply replied, confused and upset by the idea of a riot.

-What’s going on? - Na-Baron kept asking himself while dragging his wife and brother-in-law into the fortress. He wasn’t easily broken down, nor panicked, but an unsettling sensation was creeping inside of him. Never since his uncle brought him to Giedi Prime as a child, he had seen the people in such turmoil.

His uncle did not love the people, he despised them, and he taught him to do the same. Normally people would lower their heads in the presence of the nobles and remain silent in fear. Not this time though.

He couldn’t understand why.

******

A few hours later an extraordinary meeting of the small Council was scheduled.

The trusted nobles of the capital had been invited and Feyd, as the baron’s heir, had a duty to attend.

He left his wife in her apartments with her brother, both still confused by the turbulent arrival on the planet, and he then started to get ready for the Council in his own room. He needed to understand, to know more about what happened.

When he opened the door to his room his harpies were waiting for him, laying on the bed.

As soon as they saw him they began to greet him impatiently and to beg him not to leave them alone anymore.

"We missed you so much, Na-Baron..." they kept saying while kissing his whole body "We can’t be without you."

He greeted them with his usual manner of doing, impassive and icy, letting them praise him a little. He loved the fact that their life depended on him. Being the center of their existence pleased him enormously. 

He caressed their heads almost as if they were obedient little animals and he then ordered the servants to start dressing him up.

When he noticed that his harpies were busy whispering to each other, Feyd slightly laughed. He knew what they were mumbling about. He knew what they wanted to know.

But he decided to remain silent, waiting for them to speak first.

And so it was.

"Feyd." one of them began, showing her black teeth in a wide smile.

"Yes, my darling?"

"What does your wife look like?"

There was a strong note of hatred in her voice.

At the word "wife" the other two harpies almost hissed in enragement.

Feyd smiled even more widely. They were jealous. Oh how much he loved to be desired...

"She is very beautiful." he admitted sincerely, visualizing Megan’s beautiful face in his mind. 

"More beautiful than us?" the other harpy asked with a hint of desperate need for approval from him.

"Yes." he just answered.

He didn’t care if he hurt them or not, it was the truth. His harpies were beautiful for the beauty standards of Giedi Prime, but Megan was more beautiful for his taste. 

A general hiss echoed behind him. 

"So now that she’s here you’re going to abandon us?"

"Don’t leave us Na-Baron, please. We need you."

"We exist only if you are with us."

Feyd turned to look at them amused.

All that despair was feeding his huge ego.

"No, I will not leave you for now. As long as you satisfy me and you are obedient pets you can still receive my attention." he answered as the servants finished dressing him. He dismissed them with a simple gesture.

"Where are you going, our beloved Feyd?" a harpy asked, seeing him walking to the door "I thought you would spend some time with us..." she whispered sensually while the other two almost started purring.

He knew what she was alluding to: usually, as soon as he returned to Giedi Prime after a diplomatic visit to another planet, he visited them in order to satisfy his sexual needs.

But he didn’t have time to do that that day.

"I don’t have time." he quickly explained, looking at his reflection in the mirror one last time.

He still did not know if after the meeting he would have visited them or Megan. 

"Maybe later, if I don’t meet with my wife." he added, postponing the decision.

And after that, in a mix of anger and resentment, they all remained silent while Feyd left the room.

******

The Council Room was a place that invoked memories in Feyd’s mind.

Most of them were dark and hard to forget.

The first memory related to that room was particularly traumatic. Like any seven-year-old, Feyd loved to play. He was always told that playing was a waste of time, that he had to learn how to fight, how to rule and not to invent stupid hobbies. But he was stubborn. He still wanted to play, even though there was never anyone willing to play with him. 

One afternoon he was wandering in the fortress while playing with an indefinite amount of imaginary friends, when he accidentally entered the Council Room, interrupting a meeting.

Vladimir had angrily scolded him, humiliating him in front of all the nobles, and then he had told him that he was going to punish him in his chambers.

Feyd knew what that meant.

He knew what was coming.

Even at the time, despite the typical innocence of children, he understood that there was something wrong with all that. That the way his uncle touched him wasn’t normal, that not all children had uncles like that, fortunately.

From that day on Feyd kept his distance from that room until he was old enough to be ready to sit in the Council.

As much as he tried not to think about it, that room always took him back to that memory. Every time he sat at the long table next to his uncle, he felt such a deep hatred for him that led him to often fantasize about killing him.

He thought about it many times but he never did it. 

-In due time.-  he thought -I will have my revenge. -

"My trusted lords." the Baron said with his hoarse voice, "I think you all know why we are here."

The nobles nodded, visibly upset.

"I leave the word to Piter. He will be able to explain some... things to you better" he said vaguely, inviting the Mentat to continue.

Piter cleared his throat with his usual hasty manner before speaking.

"Well... so, thanks to my Mentat skills, I immediately understood the reason for the turmoil today." 

Feyd rolled his eyes. He hated that Mentat. Nobody cared about his abilities, they just wanted to understand why the people were shouting those things to his wife.

-How much I want to kill that idiot. - he thought, still remaining impassive.

"The Bene Gesserit are involved, I bet." a noble said.

Piter nodded: "Yes they are. An ancient prophecy of theirs speaks of a First Empress, the first woman to sit on the throne. During our visit to Kaitain for our Na-Baron’s wedding I tried to gather as much information as possible about our new Na-Baroness and it seems that everyone believes she is the chosen one."

"Nonsense." commented the Baron to reassure the nobles "All nonsense of course."

Piter nodded again, but that time hesitantly. Feyd seemed the only one to have noticed. 

Maybe his uncle was underestimating the situation.

"The Bene Gesserit, as always, must have spread the word here on Giedi Prime. The people were waiting for Feyd Rautha’s wife, the one who will free them from slavery and from the Laandstrad system, the one who will make them free men and women."

While all the nobles laughed, Feyd and Piter looked at each other in silence. Neither of them was laughing. It was at that point that Feyd realized that the Bene Gesserit prophecies were potentially serious things.

"A woman will never sit on the throne." the Baron chuckled.

"Women are meant to make children and stay silent. Can you imagine a woman ruling the Empire? We’d be doomed!" another noble said, making all the others laugh. 

"Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna let the people love her, think she’s gonna save them, sit on the throne... we’re gonna let them think whatever they want. We will turn all of this in our favor, of course. So that when someone will sit on the throne, that someone will be my nephew Feyd."

Feyd turned to look at him slowly, perfectly hiding the surprise.

His uncle’s fat face deformed into a wicked smile.

"Let that woman believe she can rule and I will make you emperor."

Now all the nobles' eyes were on him.

"Emperor?" Feyd asked, savoring the taste of that word.

The Baron smiled even more widely.

"When she will ask you what happened today, tell her the truth. Fuel her hopes. Make her believe it. If we exploit the support of that mass of beggars, who do you think will sit on the throne?"

Feyd looked him intensely in the eyes, feeling the excitement growing.

"Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!" the Baron exclaimed with a proud look.

"Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!" the nobles repeated in a solemn tone.

******

Giedi Prime was a miserable place.

Nothing about it was pleasant or interesting.

It was sad to think that she would have had to spend the rest of her days there, under a perpetually gloomy sky and breathing heavily polluted air. But at least she wasn’t alone.

Her brother had dinner with her and before he left he had come up with a theory.

"What if what happened today is a sign that the prophecy is true?"

Megan looked at him in silence, analyzing his idea.

They both knew about the prophecy because of their mother.

"I don’t know." his sister replied "The world doesn’t seem ready for a woman on the throne yet... maybe the Bene Gesserit are wrong. Perhaps the Chosen One is yet to come." 

There was disappointment in her voice.

“We’ll have time to see if the prophecy is right.” he reassured her "Rest now." 

"Unless my husband decides to pay me a visit."

Jeremy tried not to show it but the idea of his sister with Feyd Rautha still troubled him deeply. 

"Good night." he said, kissing her on the forehead.

"Good night Jeremy," she whispered, "I’m lucky to have you here with me."

And it was true. Without her twin she couldn’t survive, neither on Giedi Prime, nor anywhere else.

As expected, her husband came to see her.

"Come in." Megan said as soon as she heard a knock. She knew it was him.

Feyd entered the room and closed the door behind him.

He chose to go to her. He couldn’t explain it but the idea of having sex with her excited him a lot more than having sex with his concubines. The newest toy was always the most interesting.

"Did you have dinner, wife?"

"I did." she nodded "Did you attend the council?"

Feyd nodded without taking his eyes off her.

The way she looked at him... she wanted to know, she wanted to ask him what had happened. His ability to understand people was not due to his empathy, but rather due to his attentiveness and meticulous observation.

And just like he predicted, Megan spoke.

"What happened today?" she asked, "Were they shouting at me?"

Why did she ask him such an obvious question? Feyd was certain that she knew about the prophecy about herself.

"I think we both know about the prophecy." he just said, studying her with his piercing gaze.

Megan seemed to frown, slightly tilting her head in surprise.

"How do you know?"

"Bene Gesserit’s prophecies have always seemed like a waste of time to me, but they have the strange ability to spread quickly." Feyd explained, "Our Mentat heard about it on Kaitain at our wedding. Today he only had the confirmation that the people really believe in it. They believe that you will free them from the imperial system."

Silence fell between the two. They looked at each other for a few moments, both intrigued by the other. 

Feyd had expected a reaction from her. He had expected astonishment, surprise... she was a woman after all, and women were always exaggerated and sentimental. He had just told her that people thought she was going to be the first woman to rule... and she just looked at him in silence.

-What a strange little creature. - he thought before breaking the silence with a simple question.

"Do you think they’re right?" 

He had to make her believe in the prophecy as his uncle suggested, and to do so he needed to make her talk.

Megan remained silent for a while, breathing in deeply.

"I don’t know."

Feyd sighed. 

-What a disappointing answer.- 

Seeing him unsatisfied with her answer Megan added, "All men are still too dull to accept a woman’s power."

-That is an interesting answer. -

"All men? You’re assuming I am too?"

"Isn’t that right?"

"No."

To be honest Feyd never thought of a woman as a ruler. He had always been taught that women were just about having children and being good wives, but he had never had a maternal model to learn from. He killed his mother a long time ago. As soon as she had tried to stop the Baron in his attempt to bring Feyd to Giedi Prime to raise him as a true Harkonnen, Vladimir had ordered the little Feyd to kill her. And he, a simple child with a knife in his hand, had obeyed without really knowing what he was doing.

Did he regret it? No.

Or maybe.

But there was no point in thinking about it anymore: his mother was dead and he had found a strange pleasure in killing. 

His wife raised an eyebrow in an unconvinced expression.

She didn’t believe him.

-You’re more stubborn than I thought, pet. -

"Men are all the same."

Feyd looked intensely into her eyes. That sentence annoyed him. He was not like all men. All men wanted to be like him, to be precise.

"And tell me, what are men like?"

"Frightened by a strong woman." she explained with a firm tone.

Feyd smiled in amusement.

"And you think you are?"

The girl inhaled deeply, nodding without hesitation.

"It’s a fact." and then she went on "That I really am what people say I am doesn’t matter now. There’s still time to figure it out. But one thing is certain: I always frightened men. My father was terrified that I would open my mouth to any event with guests."

The Emperor frightened by a girl? It was both absurd and funny.

"Why is that?"

"Because I didn't agree with him on a lot of things and I wasn’t afraid to say it."

Her answers, always accurate and ready... Feyd was sincerely amazed. But he did not show it.

And then he thought -If she’s so proud and stubborn it might become a problem for me. I’ll find a way to tame her. -

"In what ways did you disagree with him?" 

He was really interested in finding out.

"I think the whole Empire is based on injustice and that an Emperor should rule differently."

Now Feyd could understand why her father preferred her when she was silent. Her confidence was unbearable, yet amusing.

"How?" he teased her.

"If I truly am the First Empress, you will see."

Feyd immediately became serious, taking a step toward her.

"Another husband would have already punished you for your insolence."

Just like before Megan didn’t get upset.

"If you do, you’d prove my theory that men are scared of confident women."

-Now it’s too much. -

He had to make things clear, that insolent little creature had to figure out who was in charge.

"I’ll prove something else." he whispered, approaching her, "That I can make you shut up for as long as I want. Or rather... that the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name."

Megan smiled, looking him in the eyes.

"We’ll see." she replied.

Was it possible that the fear with which she looked at him the first time had already vanished?

Feyd sat on the bed, ordering her to kneel before him.

"Now I’m gonna teach you something, pet, and you’re gonna have to listen carefully."

The girl nodded, kneeling between his legs.

"Look how obedient you’ve become now that you know you’ll get my cock." he grinned, caressing her cheek.

Without needing to be told Megan took off his uniform pants, freeing his half hard manhood from his clothes.

His dark eyes watched her fingers running along the numerous veins down his length before wrapping her hand around it, squeezing slightly.

During the journey from Kaitain to Giedi Prime, they only managed to have sex twice. Feyd had dragged her into a small room on the spaceship and made her his with impatience. And  Megan also enjoyed those moments. The embarrassment and awkwardness were slowly abandoning her, leaving room for a constant curiosity and desire for him. 

If during the first time with him she had been afraid that he might hurt her, now she knew how much Feyd was able to make her feel good instead.

Megan understood what she had to do, something she’d heard about but never done before.

"What if... I hurt you?" she asked, looking up.

-What a stupid question.- she mentally said to herself, seeing Feyd grinning. She already knew the answer.

"I like pain, pet. Both to provoke it and to receive it." he explained to her while slightly pushing her head towards his now hard manhood.

Megan breathed deeply, getting closer.

Her tongue licked the base and then ran up to the tip, following a large bluish vein. She then focused on the tip, licking it, making her tongue swirl around it in circular motions.

-I’m doing well. - she thought, satisfied, hearing Feyd’s deep moans.

After a few minutes of teasing she then opened her mouth, barely taking him all inside. 

It was too big to take it all.

She began to move her head, bobbing it up and down his length, while Feyd took her long brown hair in his hand.

"Am I too big for you, little thing?" he groaned, pushing her down further at every movement.

Megan tried to shake her head but she was pushed down on him, feeling his cock touching her throat.

She instinctively tried to retreat, gagging around him, but Feyd kept her still for a few moments, grinning in pleasure.

As soon as he let her go, Megan coughed with tears in her eyes and looked at him with a grim look.

"Don’t make that face." he mocked her, laughing.

He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb, smiling even more.

"Now continue, pet." he ordered, slightly slapping his cock against her closed lips.

The girl obeyed, starting again.

After a few minutes and after understanding the mechanism, she began to enjoy it to the point that she instinctively added the hand movement, hearing Feyd groan even louder.

"Yes pet, just like that. Good girl." he said as bewitched, looking at her bobbing her head with teary eyes "Do you want me to cum in your mouth?"

Megan nodded eagerly without stopping, looking up directly at him.

That look she gave him... it sent him over the edge.

He came with a low groan, pulling her hair as he could feel his cock twitching in her mouth.

He looked into her eyes as she swallowed, almost amazed.

It didn’t matter that their marriage was arranged... the sexual pleasure he had experienced with her that week was a pleasure he had never experienced with any other woman, not even with his concubines.

Maybe they would have never loved each other, and that didn’t matter, but at least they could both make each other feel good.

"You did a great job, pet." he complimented her, caressing her cheeks.

Megan smiled slightly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

He had been right when he had told his harpies that she was very beautiful.

"You are mine." he added possessively, looking into her eyes.

That sentence stirred something within Megan. At first she looked at him in amazement, remaining silent as she caught her breath.

And then she nodded, not taking her eyes off him.

Perhaps there was a reason why according to the Bene Gesserit’s plan they were destined to be together.

And that was the reason: she was his and he was hers.

******

Two weeks later

Feyd told her about the upcoming fight in the arena. Because of Feyd’s duties as Na-Baron the evening was the only moment they could spend together. And when they were not busy having sex they had made a habit of entertaining themselves in conversations. Megan was surprised that they had sex every night. Men usually prefer the company of their concubines and she was sure that he was still sleeping with his harpies regularly, especially when during the day he was busy and away from her. But after all, he always came back to her and that… that made her feel special.

They regularly spoke after sex. It was always Megan to start, since she had understood that Feyd was of few words, but he always participated in the conversations with interest.

One night, without warning, Feyd spoke first.

"In three days there will be a fight in the arena." he had said proudly, looking up at the ceiling. 

Megan had turned to look at him, observing his facial features, his body perfectly muscular and sculpted. 

"How long have you been fighting in the arena?" he had asked.

"For years. Since I was 14, maybe." he had replied. 

Everybody knew how damn good he was at fighting.

"Do you want me to attend?" 

Feyd had looked at her, perfectly hiding his emotions behind a detached expression.

He didn’t want to ask her directly because he was waiting for her to make the move.

He wanted her to see him fight, he wanted her to understand and see how strong and skilled her husband was.

"The first time we spoke you said you weren’t afraid of death." he had said, "If it’s true, attend the fight. People want to see their Na-Baroness."

By saying so he had pretended that her presence didn’t mean anything for him but that it meant something to people.

Megan agreed.

And there she was, sitting in the arena, waiting for the show to begin with her brother beside her.

"There he is."

Jeremy pointed at the man entering the arena, greeted by the chants of the spectators.

It was Feyd.

"Who are his opponents?" his sister asked him, using a pair of special glasses to see clearer from afar.

"I heard he fights against prisoners from other planets." he explained, clenching his fists in rage "Including Fremens."

Megan felt blood freeze in her veins as a Fremen entered the arena, stumbling.

Although no one, except for the imperial family, knew about their true identity, the Fremen blood inherited from their real father was for the twins a source of great pride; and seeing a Fremen sentenced to death in that way made them seethe in anger.

The fight began.

"They’re drugged." Jeremy noticed "Prisoners are drugged."

It was true. All her husband’s opponents were staggering and their reflexes were slowed.

Her twin brother was confused.

"You can tell he’s a good fighter... why do this?"

"Because Feyd kills for pleasure. He fights for fun, he doesn’t care about fairness or honor." she explained, looking at the prisoners being killed relentlessly.

The way Feyd was killing them was proving to her how much he enjoyed doing it.

Seeing that side of her husband in person wasn’t reassuring her at all. She always contemplated murder but only for those who really deserved it, for those who committed injustice… not as a hobby.

When the fight finished her husband looked at the Baron, who nodded proudly, and then directly at her.

Megan looked at him, unsure how to react.

Did she have to pretend she liked it? Yes, maybe it was the wisest thing to do.

So she gave him a slight smile, a smile that Feyd secretly appreciated.

The chants of approval from the audience did not stop even when Feyd disappeared from sight, entering the underground parts of the arena.

"Let’s go." her brother said, getting up from the stands.

Escorted by Megan’s guards and maids, the twins left the arena to get to the vehicle that would have taken them back to the fortress.

But something went wrong. 

The people were shouting and calling her name again. They started to surround the guards who were trying to protect her, reaching out their hands to touch her, begging for her help.

"Don’t worry." Jeremy told her, drawing out his knife. Her husband was a skilled fighter, but her brother was too.

But Megan wasn’t worried. Not at all.

In those weeks following her arrival she had thought a lot about how the people looked at her, about what Feyd had told her about the prophecy. 

She knew she had to try to help them. She felt like she had a duty towards those people. She needed to understand why. She had to find out if she really was what they thought she was.

The guards began to load their weapons, ready to shoot at the crowd, when Megan felt an arm grab her.

She turned to see a young woman who was pulling her arm with a desperate look. She had the typical features of Giedi Prime, dark eyes, smooth and pale face.

"Please, my lady." the girl begged her in Galach, without letting her arm go.

Megan, as in a trance, started allowing the young woman to guide her out of the crowd, but saw with the corner of her eye a soldier pointing his weapon at the girl’s head, ready to stop her from taking the Na-Baroness with her.

But Megan turned to him and without even thinking she used the Voice.

"Stop. Let me go."

The soldier obeyed without resistance.

"No, no!" Jeremy shouted, seeing his sister disappear into the crowd. He started pushing people, desperately looking for her, shouting orders to the guards. 

But there was nothing to do.

Megan had disappeared.

From that moment, everything changed.

Tag list: @mamawiggers1980 @avidreader73 @pomtherine

[fanfic-wonderland]

This Is War {Fred Weasley}

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Slytherin loses the Quidditch Cup to Gryffindor, (Y/N) decides to get back at them... and at Fred Weasley.

Word count: 5.3k

Read part two here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Look at them," Draco glowers at the group of people flying around the other side above the pitch, moving to stand right across from us. All of them are wearing matching red and gold uniforms, a very distinctive contrast to our (better-looking) green and silver ones. "They think they have a chance against us just because Potter is their Seeker. If you ask me, I've seen Flobberworms moving around faster than him."

The rest of the team laughs. I have the sudden urge to point out the many times Harry's beaten Draco in the past, just to shut them up, but I choose to keep it to myself. After all, we're on the same team, even if I often don't agree with my teammates. Besides, I would never hear the end of it, and the last thing I'd want to do when I'm so close to graduating is to get in trouble with Lucius Malfoy because his son is a whiny baby.

I keep observing the opposite team. All of them have gathered around in their own little broom circle, listening to what one of the three girls is saying. I spot Harry Potter with his back facing us while Ron Weasley stands beside him, looking defeated already.

And standing next to him are his older identical twin brothers. The worst of them all, by far. Those two are just so hard to like. They're careless, and reckless, and love to waste their time coming up with useless little experiments. They specifically have taken quite a liking to pulling pranks on us Slytherins daily, and frankly, It's become very annoying.

Three nights ago, in fact, the Weasley twins and a few other Gryffindors took it too far when they decided to bombard our entire Common Room —and our dorms— with Dungbombs. And three nights later, we're still mad. How they managed to sneak past us and plant all those bombs remains a mystery, but one thing is for sure: they've declared war and we are not backing down. "I'd love nothing more than to see their faces when we win that Quidditch Cup," Adrian Pucey says next to me. "It'd be the perfect way to get back at them for their little prank last time."

The rest of us mutter in agreement. "Well, if we want to do that, then we have to play perfectly today. Considering It's the final game and all," I point out. "That means we can't let them score too many points or catch the Snitch. And that means you'll have to be extra quick today, Draco."

He shoots me a nasty look as if he's disgusted by the fact that I'm telling him what to do. "Thank you for sharing that with us, (Y/L/N)," Graham Montague adverts his attention from Gryffindor and turns to me, the same look on his face. "Unfortunately, I don't remember making you our Co-Captain, so you might want to keep any comments or useless observations to yourself."

I hear snickering behind me but I do not turn around. Being the only girl on the team definitely comes with its cons. Sexism, for example. "I'm certainly doing a better job than our current Captain," I mutter quietly while rolling my eyes.

Down at the pitch, Madam Hooch steps into the center of the field, next to a brown trunk, and blows her whistle, which is somehow heard over the loud cheering from the crowd. Both teams fly closer to each other. Gryffindor shoots daggers at us and, as I take a long look at all of them, I find one of the twins staring directly at me. They're identical but, because of their little 'history' of messing with me and my fellow classmates, I can tell them apart almost naturally. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

I can tell immediately that it is Fred Weasley who is smiling mockingly at me and a wave of rage runs through me.

Of course, It's Fred. I've discovered throughout the years that, even though both twins are bad enough on their own, Fred is by far the worst of the pair. While George can sometimes know when to stop, Fred does not care nearly as much about crossing the line. I glare at him, hard enough to get him to look away first, but his smile only grows bigger and he winks at me. I finally break eye contact, but only because I want all of my focus to be on the game and not wasted on someone so immature as him.

Once everyone is set, Madam Hooch opens up the trunk and the two Bludgers shoot into the sky, quickly followed by the Golden Snitch. Then, as soon as the Quaffle finally shoots free, the game starts.

It feels like a long match, like an endless cat-and-mouse game as both teams try and catch up to each other. For the longest time, It's a close call between scores, which makes all players —and the public— tense. Lee Jordan's commentary is all over the place throughout the game; one minute, he's excited when Gryffindor is in the lead, and then the next one he's accusing Slytherin of cheating when we take it (which most of the time ends up being true, but I look past it). Despite this, we put up a fairly good fight, and for the first time in so long, it feels like the Quidditch Cup is finally ours.

Unfortunately, we don't put up a good enough fight.

I'm too busy avoiding Bludgers and trying to take the Quaffle away from the opposite team that I nearly jump from my broom when I hear the whistle blowing again. Confused, I halt my flight and look around. I quickly spot Draco in the distance, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and I immediately know what happened.

Harry caught the Snitch. Again.

"Gryffindor wins!" Madam Hooch announces.

A loud wave of cheers erupts from the Gryffindors in the crowd, hugging each other and jumping excitedly at their victory. I groan as the rest of the opposite team lands back on the ground to go and congratulate Harry for the catch. I watch as they smile and pump fists into the air, and I shake my head in disappointment. I really thought we were going to win this time. "Well, I guess we're still the best team, huh?" A voice says and I turn to look at the person.

Fred is the only Gryffindor still mounting a broom, and he doesn't seem to be in any rush to join his teammates. He leans back effortlessly as if he's lying on a couch, with his hands behind his head. I scowl at him. "Shouldn't you be down there celebrating your victory, then, instead of bothering me?"

He shrugs. "I'd much rather be here, watching your defeat from up close."

My nostrils flare and if I had my wand I'd hex him here and there. "Aww, but don't worry," He fake pouts. "There'll be plenty of opportunities to try and win in the next few years. Too bad you won't be here to see it."

He finally flies away with that stupid smug look on his face and it takes everything in me not to throw a Bludger at his head. I try to ignore the fact that his words struck a nerve because he's right. This was my last chance to help win the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin and now It's gone. I missed it.

Shaking the thoughts away, I go to join my sulking teammates, who are all gathering around Draco. "I almost had it. I even touched it with the tip of my fingers," He's saying when I arrive. I have a feeling that that is not at all true. "But then Potter had to come in and ruin everything. I bet that broom of his was charmed with super speed or something."

No one says anything about it. I know they're upset about losing but they would never dare blame Draco for it. "We were so close, though," says Cassius Warrington in a frustrated tone.

"Yeah, and now we've got to think of another way to get back at them," Adrian adds.

As I watch the other team still celebrating, a light bulb turns on above my head. "Don't worry, guys," I reassure them. My wicked smile brings them a sort of comfort. "I think I have a plan to get them back."

***

"Okay, but why do I have to get dragged into this?" Daphne Greengrass, my puzzled best friend, asks as we step out of our dorm and into the dark hallway. "I don't have any beef with Gryffindor, that's your thing."

"Right, but, aside from myself, you're the only person that I trust to do this job," I tell her, quickening my steps down the stairs. "And you're way more tolerable than the others."

"Gee, thanks for that,"

"Plus, the Slytherin team is around the castle keeping watch of any Professors or Prefects or Filch," I add. "And Draco and Blaise have to get the two Gryffindor girls, so we're stuck with the most important task, and we have to do it right."

"Because of course, we are," Daphne rolls her eyes.

"Did you bring the secret ingredients?"

She reaches into her bag and takes out two clear bottles, one with a dark purple liquid in it and the other one with something that almost looks like mud. I smile delightedly. "You have no idea how happy I am that you just happened to have Sleeping Draught and Polyjuice Potion lying around the dorm."

"That's funny because back then, I remember you said that me brewing potions for fun was 'a bit pointless if you have to wait so long to brew them'" Daphne recalls.

I clear my throat uncomfortably. "I do apologize for that. I will never doubt you again."

The plan is simple.

Gryffindor is currently having a party to celebrate their victory at their Common Room. Draco and Blaise Zabini have written a letter addressed to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, probably the easiest targets we could get, asking them to meet Michael Corner and Cormac McLaggen at the Courtyard. Pansy Parkinson will charm said letter to fly to the girls; once they get it, Draco and Blaise will put them to sleep, take a strand of hair from each of them, and bring it back to us. We mix the hair with our potion servings, drink the potion, and once we transform we sneak into the Common Room and add a (lot) bit of Sleeping Draught into the drinks. When we've made sure that everyone in the room fell into a deep slumber, we take the Quidditch Cup from them and they'll wake up in the morning with no idea of what happened. It'll look like everyone was just blackout drunk and they lost the Cup because of their irresponsibility.

It's a great plan if you ask me.

"I do have a question, though," Daphne stops walking once we make it to our own Common Room. "Don't we need the password to get into their Common Room?"

I grin and reach into my pocket, holding out a piece of paper in front of her. 'Mimbulus mimbletonia', it reads. "I stole it from that Longbottom kid in Transfiguration earlier," I say. "At first, I figured we'd rely on luck and wait until someone came around to help us, but it was much easier to just take the password from him. Plus, it saves us time."

"Huh," Daphne takes a seat on the nearest chair and folds her arms, impressed. "Good thinking. So, when are Draco and Blaise coming?"

"I'd say they should be here—"

Before I finish my sentence, and as if they've heard us talking about them, the Common Room door opens and both boys walk toward us with triumphant looks on their faces. Draco holds up the small pouch in his hand. "We got them."

"Oh, good," I sigh in relief as they hold out their pouches to us. I take the one in Draco's hand and Daphne takes the other one. I open mine up and a few long dark hairs come out. I can immediately tell that it is Parvati's. "Good job, guys. Daphne?"

She takes out two cups from her bag and hands one to me. Once I take it, she pours the muddy liquid into mine and then onto hers. I glance down at my cup, grimacing when I notice It's bubbling in the most disgusting way. I turn back at Daphne before I can start feeling nauseous. "Ready?"

She gulps, also eyeing her potion, then gives a slow nod.

We each throw our hair into the liquid, which completely consumes it until it is not visible anymore. A few moments pass and my potion begins to shift colors. The muddy brown is completely gone, replaced by a shocking pink that nearly blinds me. I look up at Daphne's portion and hers has turned into... well, lavender. "You don't happen to have an idea of how much these will last, do you?" I ask her.

Daphne smiles weakly. "One can never really tell, am I right?" She raises her glass in front of me. "Bottoms up!"

We both chug down our potion at once. Mine tastes... okay. I don't know why I expected it to taste like shit but It's sweet, although not overpowering. Daphne's doesn't seem to taste too bad, either, seeing as she drinks it with ease.

The bad part comes right after.

I've never consumed Polyjuice Potion before this so I'm not sure exactly what to expect, but I've heard the transformation process is extremely unpleasant so I'm not expecting something good. Once it finally starts, I let go of my cup and I'm crouching on the floor in less than 10 seconds. My insides feel like they're twisting and turning into irreparable knots, and my skin feels like It's burning. I hear Daphne moaning in pain but I don't look up at her. My eyes are glued to the bubbles forming in my hands and arms. I nearly begin to panic but I try to remain calm as my skin begins to darken, my fingers shrinking a bit and turning slightly thinner. A long dark hood begins to take over my vision while I'm still crouched, and it takes me a moment to realize that It's just my hair, which doesn't seem to stop growing. My robes suddenly begin to feel lighter than usual as my body takes the shape of Parvati. The pain stops as suddenly as it started and it leaves me trying to catch my breath. I try to stand up straight again, catching sight of Draco and Blaise's faces first. Both of them look like they've seen a ghost for a moment before their expressions shift into amusement. "Whoa," Blaise mutters. "That was terrifying to watch. But you guys look exactly like them."

I don't say anything as I turn to find Daphne again, but I'm met with Lavender Brown staring at me with wide eyes instead. We both gasp, frozen in our spots. To anyone else, she wouldn't look any different than the real Lavender, but I still find a bit of Daphne in the way she stares at me. "Oh Merlin," she tilts her head. "This is terrifying."

"Tell me about it," I agree while I take one last look at my hands. I grab my hair; It's so long that I have no idea what to do with it. I've never had it this long so it does sort of feel heavy.

"Yes, yes, It's all very impressive," Draco says in a dismissive manner. "But we still have other important things to do."

Even though I hate that he has to be such an asshole all the time, he's right. We cannot lose sight of what's important.

So, Daphne and I go to change clothes and then head to the Gryffindor Tower. It feels like a marathon but we finally stop in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. She eyes us carefully and for a moment I begin to think that she's onto us. I try not to look suspicious and I can sense Daphne doing the same next to me. "Password?"

"Mimbulus mimbletonia." I say without stuttering, trying to seem casual and like It's not my first time sneaking into Gryffindor's Common Room.

She nods and the portrait slowly opens. I almost let out a sigh of relief as we walk in but I'm stopped by the sight of the Common Room. I've never been here before but It's hard to take it all in when there are so many students in it at the same time. Nonetheless, I can tell that It's so much different than Slytherin's Common Room, and not in a good way.

"Okay," Daphne says, but It's barely audible through the loud music playing. "We're here now, there's no turning back. Do you see the drinks anywhere?"

I scan the room a bit longer. I spot the music box in a corner, next to a couple making out against the wall; I spot the Quidditch Cup exhibited on a clear shelf, next to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley who are talking on the other side of the room; and I do see many people holding cups, which means that we'll probably have to go around slipping Sleeping Draught in all of them.

I finally catch a glimpse of a long table with different kinds of snacks and—

"I see something!" I tell her excitedly and I point to the table, where there are also two huge bowls filled with red and gold liquid, probably charmed to look that way.

Daphne smiles in satisfaction. "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Wait," I stop her. "I think we have to split up."

"Huh?"

"There are people drinking already so maybe you could try and slip some Draught in their drinks while I try to slip it into the bowls first?" I suggest.

She nods. "Right. I'll start on the left side of the room, then."

We divide the potion and part ways, and I start making my way through the crowd until I can't see her anymore. A few people say hi to me and, even though I don't know much about Parvati Patil, I try to act how I've seen her act— bright, outgoing, and a little bit annoying. Luckily, though, no one stops to make conversation so I make an easy escape until I finally reach the table.

I take out the cup that Daphne gave me and I discreetly begin to pour the purple liquid into the cup. Fortunately, it does not change colors. "I see what you're doing," a voice says from behind me and I almost drop the cup.

I turn around, trying to act normal, and then I see that the person talking is none other than Fred Weasley. Out of all people. "What?"

He grins. "You're spiking the punch even more, aren't you? I didn't know you were such a party animal, Parvati."

I almost forget that I look like a whole different person right now. I chuckle and raise my arms. "You're right. You caught me."

"Well, don't let me stop you. Go on ahead. It'll definitely make things a lot more fun around here." Fred winks at me before he walks away and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

Aside from that small incident, I don't bump into anyone else. Everyone's already too drunk out of their minds to notice me. It makes it easier for me to slip more Sleeping Draught into people's drinks, and I keep doing it until I find Daphne again and we're certain that we've got everyone. "And now we just wait."

***

It doesn't take long for everyone but Daphne and I to start collapsing from sleep. In fact, it happens very quickly.

Daphne and I are giggling like maniacs as we tiptoe around until we're in front of the silver Quidditch Cup, admiring its beauty for a moment. "I can't believe we actually pulled this off," Daphne says under her breath, her eyes glowing. "We're so cool."

"Told you we could do it," I nudge her side. "Now for the final act..."

I take it in my hands. It feels heavier than I expected but it feels so good to hold it. "What a beauty," I keep admiring it until I'm brought back to my senses. "Okay, now let's get out of here."

We finally make it out of the Common Room and it feels like we've been liberated. Our surroundings begin to feel familiar again. "I'll go let the others know that we have the Cup," Daphne announces excitedly.

"Good idea," I tell her. "I'll go take this to the dungeons."

She nods and we part ways once again. I try to hide the Cup in my bag as much as I can but It's so big that the top part still sticks out, but it will have to do.

If the path to the Gryffindor Tower felt long, this time it feels eternal, especially when the tension of being caught follows me around. I have to be extra careful this time; if anyone sees me I'll get in huge trouble and I don't even want to begin thinking about that. So I have to sneak around and be very aware of my surroundings if I want this to go as planned. It's all up to me now.

When I'm finally sure that I'm outside of the public eye, I turn a corner and let out a shriek as I almost come face-to-face with a tall figure. And of course, It's Fred Weasley again.

Wait...

"H-hey, Fred!" I smile brightly at him. Maybe it comes off a bit too forced but oh well. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check up on you and Lavender, since you guys left in such a hurry," His eyes find my bag and my stomach drops. "What are you doing with the Quidditch Cup?"

"I'm..." I try to think fast but without looking suspicious, and then I realize that I'm most certainly failing at it. "I was just on my way to polish it! And then I was going to bring it back later."

"Were you?" Fred raises an eyebrow and steps closer.

I nod. "Of course! What, you think I'm stealing it or something?"

He's practically hovering over me now and I have to crane my neck to look up at him. He extends a hand out to me. "Why don't you let me help you, then?"

"I'm sure you're probably busy—"

"I have nothing on my schedule right now." He cuts me off. His gaze makes me feel like a criminal. "I'd love to help out."

I shrug. "It shouldn't be too much work, I can do it on my own, really—"

Suddenly, my back is pressed against the stone wall and I'm caged in between both of his arms. I yelp in surprise. Fred's face is awfully close to mine and he's staring at me as if he's trying to figure out my identity. My true identity. "You're not the real Parvati, are you?"

I swallow hard and do the first thing that comes to mind: I take out my wand from my back pocket and point it at him. "Flipendo!"

A yellow light surges out of the tip of my wand and knocks Fred back and away from me. As soon as his back meets the ground I make a run for it.

I have no idea where I'm heading, my vision is far too clouded right now, but I do not look back and I do not stop running. I've forgotten all about being discreet and I've stopped worrying about getting caught by someone else. I'm already in enough trouble as it is.

My feet guide me outside of the castle, and I know that if anyone finds out I'll get detention for at least 2 months, but I don't care as I keep moving. My stomach begins to turn in that weird way again all of a sudden. "Oh no, please, not now," I beg.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling, I'm still running until I reach the dock at the Great Lake. It's barely visible and the water is so dark that it looks like a huge void, but at least no one can see me here. The pain continues for a few moments, and when it finally stops I look at my hands. They look like my hands again. I reach to touch my hair and realize It's not nearly as long anymore. Even if it didn't last long, it feels good to be back to my old self.

"There you are,"

Crap.

I turn slowly to look at Fred, who apparently does not know to mind his own bloody business. His eyes widen in surprise once he sees me but then he shakes his head and smirks. "Well, hello there. I never thought that, out of all people, you would try and pull off something like this," I remain quiet. "I believe you have something that belongs to us." He takes a step closer.

I pretend to ponder. "No, I don't think I do. I think you have the wrong person."

"Oh, silly me, right? I thought you looked different back there," He says then takes out his own wand. "Accio Quidditch Cup!"

The Cup suddenly flies out of the bag, all the way into Fred's hands.

"Give it to me," I run towards him and try to yank the cup from his hands. Unfortunately for me, his grip is way stronger than mine. He raises it above his head, which, given our very distinctive height difference, is impossible for me to reach. I jump while extending my arm as high as possible, but It's useless. He's still looking down at me like I'm an annoying toddler wanting to get his attention. "Weasley!"

"Sorry," He shrugs. "Finder's keepers."

Grumbling curses at him under my breath, I reach for my wand and point it at the cup, using the same Summoning Charm as him. As soon as the cup is back in my hands, I run for it. I hear Fred shouting my name behind me, but I don't turn back. I'm laughing like a maniac as I run to the opposite side when I'm suddenly stopped in my tracks. For a second, I cannot move. It's like an invisible force is restricting my entire body. And then I'm yanked back by said force until I'm back in my previous spot, right in front of Fred. He snatches the cup from me and grins. "Thank you, kind lady. Oh, and I'll be taking this, too."

He snatches my wand from my hand and begins to run away. My first instinct is to jump on his back, ignoring his protests as I try to reach for my wand first. He manages to shake me off before I can do so, but I don't give up. I'm still trying to reach for him, for anything, but between all that wrestling, I slip from the dock and fall into the freezing water. When I emerge, my whole body is shivering and my teeth are chattering uncontrollably. I look back at the dock and Fred is still standing there, his mouth open as he stares at me in shock. And then he bursts out laughing. "You'll p-pay for this!" I shout at him but he just keeps laughing.

I hear something behind me— it almost sounds like a waterfall. But as I turn around I don't see anything of the sort.

Instead, I see a tentacle. A huge tentacle coming at me from the water.

The color drains from my face, I'm sure, and I let out a loud scream. I scream so loud that I don't hear anything else. I think Fred is shouting something, and I'm not sure if It's at me or at the giant squid, but I don't find out. I shut my eyes close but my body is frozen in place. I can't move. It might be the fear, it might be the cold, it might even be both, but I can't move a muscle.

What a terrible way to die this is.

"(Y/N)," Fred calls from the dock but I can barely hear him. My heartbeats are too fast and too loud. "It's okay, It's gone! Just swim back to shore."

I'm too busy hyperventilating to listen to him. I was just face-to-face with a giant squid— a bloody giant squid. My mind is not processing anything at the moment and all I can feel is panic, still.

I hear a splash of water nearby and a pair of arms suddenly sneak around me below the water. A small gasp escapes my lips as Fred's face appears right of mine. As if by instinct, I wrap my arms around his neck. It's the closest we've ever been. "Look at me," he says but I don't need him to. I'm already getting lost in the soothingness of his eyes. "You're okay. Nothing or no one will hurt you as long as I'm here, okay?"

I nod wordlessly. I'm still shaking uncontrollably and I probably look like a mess right now. "I'm going to get us back to shore now," He informs carefully. "Is that okay with you?"

"Y-yes, please."

As soon as I give him the green light, he picks me up bridal style and begins to swim back to shore.

We get to land safe and sound, just as he had promised. I feel a huge sense of relief the moment my feet touch land, but my arms do not let go of him and his hands are still on my waist. When I turn to face him, he's already looking down at me. "See?" he says with a chuckle. His voice is soft and comforting. "It's all good now. You have nothing to worry about."

For a moment, I seem to forget that the boy standing in front of me is the boy that I've hated for all these years. I forget all the pranks he pulled on me and my housemates, all the times he enraged and mocked me. I forget about all of that and I don't know what comes over me but I lean up and I kiss him.

I can tell that Fred is surprised by how he freezes as soon as our lips touch, but once he composes himself, he responds. He pulls me closer and tightens his grip around me, which is probably the moment that I start losing my grip on reality. A wave of warmth washes through me and it feels... nice. Especially after going out for a midnight swim. His lips feel soft against mine and It's nearly impossible to stay away from them. My hands grip his hair and he lets out a low grunt against my mouth. The sound is sinful. It makes me want more of him.

We pull away after a while, though, and none of us say anything. My eyes flutter open almost at the same time as his, and for a moment It's like a sort of dream where nothing is real.

But of course, he has to ruin it.

"Wow," Fred's dazed smile widens. "What a nice way to say 'Thank you for saving my life'."

I blink a few times and it takes a moment to snap out of my trance, and when I do I am mortified. When I finally come to all my senses, I unwrap my arms from his neck and push him away. As soon as he lets go, I start to look for my wand. I finally find it lying next to the Cup but I don't even bother to grab that. It was a mistake to even try and steal it. It has already caused way too much unnecessary drama.

Plus, I just kissed Fred fucking Weasley.

My clothes are sticking to my skin and I'm still dripping from head to toe, which just adds to my distress, but I don't let it stop me as I run back to the castle. I hear Fred calling after me but I don't turn to look back at him. I am way too embarrassed and frustrated at myself to do so.

[cubicle-eyes]

Can I request just general hc for blizø with a succubus s/o (preferably gender neutral but it's ok if its more male leaning!!)

Blitzo x Succubus!Reader Headcanons

Yes yes you can

TW bc this is an 18+ show. May include cussing, sexual content, and more.

----

- when you and blitzø meet he's on edge bc hey, he doesn't have good history with demons from the lust ring

- but youre.. not quite like every other succubus out there.

- it doesn't take very long at all for you two to hook up, and he's more surprised when you're still there in the morning then the fact you admit you'd like to try a relationship with him

----

Blitzo was staring at Y/N, waiting to see when they'd wake up and leave. Get dressed, exit the room, and maybe give him their number. His stomach churned, fingers digging into the pillow as he frowned. He moved to roll over and stand up, but two arms wrapped around his middle and pulled him back down.

"Getting up already?"

"I don't want another round."

"Oh Satan, me either."

Y/N laughed and Blitzo blinked. They were still half asleep, but holding him tightly. He swallowed thickly.

"Does your leg still hurt?"

"..what?"

"Your leg?"

Y/N gently pulled the covers off, sitting up on their elbow and resting a hand on Blitzo's hip, using their thumb to gesture to a spot slightly below.

"I bruised you on accident."

"That shit doesn't hurt."

Blitzo cracked a grin, sitting up to. The pair stared at each other until they bust into giggles.

----

- you're probably taller than him let's be honest

- loves that. Size difference >>>

- also loves when he's able to steal your clothes and he's swimming in some of the oversized ones.

- every now and then he'll go to the office and you'll already be there, wearing one of his leather jackets and he just *💀*

- speaking of the office you're probably useful to I.M.P

- makes it easier to lure some of the more competent victims if you're helping seduce them.

-----

"Aw. You're a little excited, aren't you?"

The target nodded excitedly, and Y/N opened their arms, inviting them in.

They got about a step closer before Blitzo shot them through the head and they fell forward unceremoniously. Blitzo hissed and Y/N laughed.

"You were supposed to wait." Y/N kissed the Imps forehead and he muttered something about "dirty hands".

"I'm just doing my job. Protect you, kill people."

"And you're doing a great job. I'll prove that to you later, okay?"

Blitzo immediately perks up, tail swishing behind him.

"Hell yeah!"

----

- your relationship is closed romantically, but open sexually to allow for your own succubus needs and Blitzo's arrangement with stolas. You're both still plenty loyal to each other and there's no doubt in either of your minds

- except for blitzo because he's always 100% sure that every slipup he makes will turn into a breakup.

- you just gotta help him realize you aren't leaving any time soon

----

Y/N was sitting in Bitzo's chair, the imp curled into his chest and completely silent. This wasn't something that happened often, and Y/N made sure their grip on him was tight and reassuring. They had a small fight earlier about something that escalated quickly. Blitzo's words were still fresh in Y/N's mind, but they pushed them away, burying their head against Blitzo's.

"You're quiet."

"Mm."

"You don't have to be quiet."

Y/N presses his lips to Blitzo's forehead as the imp sniffles, clutching onto their chest. Y/N sighs, letting the imp sob. Outside there's barely any noise, it's early in the morning, no demons want to he awake at such an hour unless they were forced too. Blitzo's tail curls around Y/N's leg and the succubus pulls his head up.

"I'm sorry I fought with you."

"We.. already did the apologies."

"I'm saying it again. I love you so much. I'm sorry."

Blitzo makes a noise akin to a whimper, burying his head in their neck.

"I love you too."

----

- very show off. Especially when he's nervous or anxious about you being around other demons bc he's so jealous constantly

- so you'll be like in a bar, and he'll start singing a rock love ballad in a drunken state because there was one (1) (uno) demon that brushed your arm and you shut them down quickly.

- still you cried about it later because it was so cute and blitzo thought he did something wrong and was a very big baby about it.

- when you're both drunk you put on stupid music and cuddle. That's it. Nothing else happens. You could both be high as balls and be listening to "As The World Caves In" and singing and sobbing until Loona practically duct tapes your mouths shut.

- Also loona absolutely loves hates you.

- she thinks you're perfect for Blitzo and wants to make you get married kill you around every corner.

----

"Loony! Y/N's staying the night."

"When aren't they staying the night?"

She scoffed, tensing her shoulders. Y/N simply laughed, setting a black bag down in front of her.

"I got you a present, bark."

The affectionate nickname came from when the pair first met and Loona straight up barked at them because she didn't see them when she walked into Blitzo's office. She rolled her eyes, opening it and starting her prepared thank-you speech.

"Oh wow. A gift. This was very unexpected

I love it so.. much."

"It's not a lot. Your phone case was cracked so I got you a new one, a few stickers for Verosika Mayday, and a new shirt. I hope you don't mind."

"Uh, thanks, Y/N."

Y/N blinked as the hellhound stared at them. They grinned, ignoring Blitzo's sniffle at the scene. Y/N pat her head affectionately and her tail swished slowly across the floor.

"No problem. Now, what're we making for dinner?"

----

I could go on forever and ever about how Y/N does all the cooking in the house hut I won't I'll end it here.

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON I LOVE WRITING FOR BLITZO

💙

[gadriezmannsgirl]

With you -Pedri González

Please, tell me you guys didn't forgot about this little thing over here because I didn't, this is the little "blurb" an anon asked me for and yes, I took a long time to do it but I couldn't get anything for this. Anyways, hope you enjoy it, guys!

Summary: Your love connection goes beyond everything and you two know it

"Do you really have to go?" He asked laid on the bed watching you pack clothes for four days, you were asked to go to this art exhibition that was being held in Madrid, it would benefit a lot on your scolarship, it was something serious and something big for you.

"Well, yes. I hope after graduating, work in Barcelona's art gallery"

"You don't need to work, mi vida" You roll your eyes

"I do need to" You replied softly looking at him

"You don't! I make enough for the both of us, our future kids and even their kids!" He replied as you looked at him with a smile

"Out future kids sounds good"

"Don't change the subject" You giggle

"It'll be four days, they'll pass quickly, amor. You'll see" You leaned over and kissed his pouty lips

But two days without your presence were enough for Pedri to go madly crazy, he swore your pillow had lost your lovely scent a mix of vainilla and your favorite perfume, that he couldn't get enough of and the fact his bananas laid untouched on the dinner table, meaning you hadn't tried to sneak behind them and eat a few ones.

Pedri groaned thinking of a solution. And he stopped feeling lonely when he found one.

You were currently greeting the judges that were going to qualify you, along with your profesora, Julia, if you were or not capable of directing a gallery as big as this one, it was your last semester in Uni and you were halfway done with your internships, this being one of them and you needed to give your everything at 100% to be fully accepted.

You were nervous, you had facetimed Pedri who reassured you everything would be alright and that you will smash it but you felt like vomiting at the moment you stepped a foot inside the place.

After a lot of battle and thinking, you had decided to put a navy blue dress with a not so long V cut and beige stilettos along with your hair down.

"Te ves divina" Pedri had said "Wish I could be there"

You wished that too.

After some words from the owners of the place, the judges and your profesora, the event started.

You were pretty busy explaining the technique of the paintings, the hidden emotions and the history behind the paints to everyone who got close to you and asked for your help.

"Señorita, disculpe. ¿Podría decirme el nombre de esta pintura?" (Miss, excuse me. Could you please tell me the name of this paint?) You heard his voice, the deep Canarian accent that made you smile, you turned around smiling and saw him.

Pedro was standing in front of you, with a smile on his handsome face, he was dressed in a suit, a view you don't get to see many times and that you loved it.

"What are you doing, amor?"

"Couldn't stand being far from you" You smiled

"You're whipped, young man"

"I'm in love, which is different" He corrected "I hate it when one of us has to leave and I love when we're together" You smiled "Besides, I'm injured and staring at Fer's ugly face isn't the same as staring at your pretty one" You blush giggling "Te ves hermosa por cierto" He said

"Thank you, you look pretty handsome too" You stared at each other for a few seconds, smiling you shook your head "Which paint did you said?"

"Anyone you want, I said that to grab your attention to be honest" You both chuckle as you grab his hand guiding him to your favorite paint

You told him everything you loved on the paint, the type of painting and like you were doing before, explaining every little detail of it.

"You can buy this?" You nod

"You can"

"And would you like this one in our house?" You smiled at him

"It would look great, yes. You don't need to tho" You shook your head "These are really expensive and I don't want you to-" He cut you off by kissing your lips lovingly. You smiled into the kiss letting yourself fall into his charm

"Y/N?" You heard your profesora's voice

"Miss Julia" You smiled lightly "Mhm... This is my boyfriend, Pedro González" You introduced him as she smiled "Pepi, amor, she's my profesora Julia Andrade" They nod before shaking hands lightly

"Surprise seeing you here, Y/N told me she would come alone"

"Yes, she did, but I missed her a lot and I also wanted to be here for her since it's such a big thing for her and hopefully her career"

"That's really nice" She cooded a bit "Fan of art?"

"Not that much to be honest"

"Opposites attracts"

"A lot" Pedri said making you chuckle

"Feeling proud of her? She's doing an amazing job like always" Pedro nodded

"One hundred percent, she's amazing, smart and passionated, I knew she would smash this"

"I still don't know that"

"No, he's right. The judges are blown away by you, Y/N. They're talking about wanting you in Madrid and Barcelona for the two biggest arts museum's in each. I'm extremely happy and proud of you, my dear" You laughed in disbelief

"Really?" She nods

"I would let you get away with it as a celebration gift but I think that may be up for later, you're being requested for one of the judges to talk about your experience here" And with that she left you two alone

You turned to Pedri who was already looking at you

"Éxitos preciosa" He said kissing your lips "I'll be here cheering you on, te quiero"

"Que te como la cara, te quiero" You smiled kissing him repeatedly

"Let's save that for later, go and do your thing"

"You won't leave?"

"¿Pa' dónde me iría? My place is with you. You're my everything" He kissed you once more "Venga, va. Go, smash, end with your night with a golden brooch and let's go to the hotel so we can have your celebration" You smiled nodding leaning up to kiss him once more

"You're definitely my person, amor"

"Well, I know that already" You both laughed "but you're also mine"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

[starliights-shining]

One more Star thought before I got drown in fanfics somewhere.

Prowl finding a planet where everyone worships a god/goddess. It's weird he thinks, but isn't one to judge if it keeps them happy. He spents a lot of time there and is like why do you guys keep talking about this godd/goddess, i wanna know what the hype about them is. He thinks they're worshipping a statue, or a figure from a book, but when the locals bring him to the temple its an actual living breathing being, and its you. You're sat in a room decorated with pictures of you and other important figures or moments in history. You're drapped in pretty fabrics and fancy jewlry. Now he sees why everyone is so obseesed, why every single person worships the groud you walk on.

He's in love, wishing he could stay and do exactly like your followers. Wishing he could be the person standing next to you, feeding you grapes, holding your hands, kissing your feet, being the whole source of your pleasure and happiness. It hits him hard how he can't be the one, the one to take care of you.

He finds himself praying to you, asking Primus to keep your wishes in his favor. Praying to your sun and stars as he enters more danger. Praying that he will return to your home planet and see you each time. It cost him more fuel and time, but he doesn't care.

When he's finally graced with the chance of meeting you after years of dedicaded support. He is greeted by one of your temples keepers, their sun, moon and stars get-up catching him off guard. He questions if theyre real, were they really going to take him to you, but when he sees the look of others, he takes it serious. He ushered to the last temple he saw you at. He recalls the image perfectly in his processor. Your bare feet peaking from under your dark draped clothing, your hair long and flowy as you smile down at the onlookers, their hands reaching up to you in hopes of a blessing. He could have sworn you were looking right at him that day. Eyes catching his as you smiled, a blessing is all he thought. You just gave him a blessing.

Now here he is, actually getting to talk to you, hold a conversation, worship the ground you walk, he thinks maybe his praying as finally come true. Your own delicate ears hearing his words and asking for him. He pulled into a room by the temple keepers, the room light with all the things they said you had in the books and stories. He watches the keepers fall to their knees, heads bowing and eyes closed. He looked in front of him and there you stood. Your beauty finally being seen by his very own optics. He soon follows suit, falling to his kness, unable to bow his head and close his eyes. He was awestruck, unable to tear his optics from you, slowly making your way to him. You'll stop in front of him, a small smile on your face as you take in his image. His lips parted and optic blown wide as eh stares up at you. You'll just stare at him. A hand coming up to the side of his helm. Your felt his melt plating, thumb rubbing over flat and smooth surface.

"Leave us,"

You tone was quiet, almost unheard by him. The keepers with bow once again before swiftly leaving and closing the door behind them. Your other hand raising to his face as you move closer to him, his chin now mearly inches away from your stomach.

"For what is it you want My sweet boy."

He blinks, his processor short circuiting as he takes in the way your voice sounds. All he can do is mumble a what. optics swirling as he stares into you. He is lost, trying to come up with the meaning behid your words.

"I see you around me keeps often. So you must have a request, a need, a want. What is it?"

You voice is still soft, soft enough that only he can hear it. Your tone is endearing, your eyes soft, and lips even softer looking. Your skin is smooth and dewy. You glow in the light of the room, a shining God/goddess. Your thumb rubbing over the metal plating of his face, as you gaze down at him. He finds the needs to stablize himself, a need to know this is real. His servos find their spot on your hips and rest there.

"You, it is you I wish for."

"Then it is me you will have."

You smile, thumb running over the plating below his optics. Its in this moment he realizes, you truly are deserving of your place, for your worships, of your following, of his love.

[f4irys4n]

don’t ignore me.

choi yeonjun x neutral! reader

tags gender neutral language. academic rivals (they don't hate each other, they're just competitive). reader and yeonjun tease each other. reader likes yeonjun. yeonjun is in denial but also likes reader. artsy! yeonjun. oblivious yeonjun. suggestive dreams. upset reader. crying. subtle confrontation. light angst. kissing. subtle groping.

wc 2.2k

muffled conversations spread through the hallways as you walk through them, history books in your hand, making your way to class. your cheeks heated slightly, remembering this was the lesson that you sat next to yeonjun. as little as you like to admit it, you do have a little crush on yeonjun, but you would never tell anyone that; to anyone else, he's purely you're academic rival.

you felt someone push into your back. "hey loser!" a familiar voice spoke from behind you, one of his arm wrapping around your shoulder. speak of the devil.

"hey yeonjun," you draw out, looking up at the taller figure, trying your best not to smile from seeing him. "oh how excited i am to sit next to this really annoying boy in my next class?" you tease.

"oh, me too. it's going to be amazing sitting next to this whiny person in the very class I'm heading to now," yeonjun hums, grinning down at you.

"whiny?" you ask, arching up your eyebrow.

"oh yeah... super whiny, they go on and on about how boring the class is and how they'd love to be doing something else," yeonjun furthers, rolling his eyes a little.

"you're an ass," you chuckle to him, punching his arm lightly.

"oh.. so if i'm an ass, what are you, darling?" yeonjun smirks slightly.

"the closest thing to perfect you'll ever meet," you smirk back, before stepping through the doorway of your history class.

"cocky much," yeonjun teases gently.

"learnt from the best," you reply you grin back at him.

"yeonjun, y/n, stop flirting and pay attention please," the teacher snaps, causing the class to giggle at her comment making both of your cheeks flush a light shade of red.

"flirting? they wish," yeonjun chuckles out loud.

"you wish, more like," you snigger, side-eyeing him before paying attention to the notes on the class board.

yeonjun's mind wandered, starting to doodle on the page of his textbook that he'd barely written on throughout the entirety of the lesson. before he even had time to notice, he had scribbled a detailed picture of you on the corner of his paper. his eyes widened and he quickly ripped it out, scrunching it up in a ball before you had time to see it.

"what was that?" you ask, trying to spy on what he'd been drawing.

"nothing.. just some stupid doodles," he mutters, pushing the piece of paper into his bag.

"you probably were drawing some boobs or something childish like that," you chuckle playfully.

"i'm not a 12-year-old boy," yeonjun scoffed jokingly, rolling his eyes at your comment.

"are you sure about that?" you hum, sniggering to yourself before making note of what was being said about whatever historical event was being discussed at the moment.

that same night, yeonjun opens his scrapbook to flick through the pages of all his drawings before his eyes land on a blank page. he had a strange feeling in his heart but he really couldn't place what it was, so the only thing he knew to do was to draw his feelings so he could understand them.

his pencil touched his paper, and his imagination took way; the grey spreading across the slightly off-shade white paper to create the imagery yeonjun was picturing in his mind.

after a few moments, he groaned, realising what he'd drawn. you.

why were you so stuck in his head? why was his thoughts so fixated on you? he was truly struggling to understand why you were so prominent in his mind, and this only frustrated him further; it frustrated him that he couldn't understand what these feelings even were.

he slams the book closed, chucking it onto the desk beside his bed before falling onto his bed. he huffed a little, running his hand through his hair, trying to solve the puzzles within his mind.

eventually, the boy fell asleep, slipping into his dream world.

and again, he saw you. you were both in his room, and after seconds of paused staring, he watched himself launch himself at you. cupping your face and pulling your lips towards his, passionately moving them against each other as your arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. yeonjun's hands wandered further down as the kiss heated up, his palms settling on the curve of your ass.

and with that, yeonjun woke up, his breath heavy and forehead dotted with sweat. what the fuck was that? why would he ever dream of that?

he felt his heart quicken and stomach tingle slightly. he'd never seen you in such a way, you were just his friend who rivalled him for the title of 'best in the class' not someone he viewed as a romantic interest. this feeling towards you was completely new, and it confused him greatly.

you hadn't seen yeonjun all day and it honestly upset you. usually, he was the first person you spoke to in the morning, besides your roomie. but today was different, the boy was nowhere to be seen and it through you off.

you looked at your timetable and smiled; history; the very lesson yeonjun always sat next to you in. you hurried to class, moving your legs fast, eager to see him.

as you walked into the class you frowned. yeonjun was already there, seated and ready for the lesson to start, but he wasn't sat in his usual place. he had willingly chosen to sit next to eunha, his ex, the girl he often bitches about saying he could never trust her again and that he firmly believes she only used him for his popularity.

it stung. like a knife to the heart.

why would he choose to sit away from you? you had sat next to each other for years now, what had suddenly changed?

your mind went frantic. had you done something? you retraced all your interactions from the days prior, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, he was completely fine with you when you had said goodnight to each other. what could have possibly changed in the space of 12-ish hours?

your gaze was locked on him for a few seconds, and he hadn't even bothered to look up at you. but little did you know, he knew you were there, and once you turned away his gaze was burning into you just as yours was with him.

all lesson your focus was gone, nothing the teacher said was going through, it was all mindless chatter to you now. you quickly stood up, gathering your things quickly.

"i'm sorry, miss, i've got to go," you say frantically before exiting the room, ignoring her calling your name and asking what's wrong.

after a few moments, yeonjun jumped up and followed you, unsure over what was wrong; not realising his absence hurt you this much. but by the time he'd left the room, he couldn't see you, you'd gone.

"mr. choi, will you please sit down," the teacher scolds, prompting him with her finger.

today had just felt like a little too much.

you were staring at yeonjun's contact name and the texts between you both, wondering whether you should bite the bullet and message him, or leave him be; he made it obvious that he didn't want to speak to you in your eyes.

suddenly you jumped off your bed, determined to figure out why yeonjun was blanking you. you were sure you hadn't done anything wrong, but if you had, it'd also give you the opportunity to apologise and hopefully sort things out.

yeonjun sat on his bed, scrolling through his phone aimlessly, his eye landing on a picture you'd posted on Instagram a few days prior. he found himself smiling at the sight of you before clicking on your profile to fill his worried mind with happy thoughts for just a moment.

that was until he was interrupted by a knock on the door, causing him to quickly lock his phone and throw it to the side of him.

it was almost 11pm, who could this be?

he steps barefoot on the cold laminate floor, slowly making his way to the door to open it. he gasped quietly as he saw your face staring up at him, all teary-eyed and lacking the normal look of hope in your eyes.

"y/n?" he asks quietly "how did you get past the hall guard? come in, you'll get us caught," he continued, ushering you into his room quickly.

"really? that's all you have to say to me after ignoring me for an entire," you hum "why haven't you talked to me all day? and why did you deliberately choose to sit next to eunha today in history?" you say causing yeonjun to frown slightly, he didn't think his actions would have upset you this much.

"oh.. i didn't think it would have been this serious," yeonjun replies, pretending to not be bothered and pushing the situation to the side.

"not that serious?" you chuckle "we've been friends and playful rivals since we both started school, and now you just randomly ignore me. not to mention sit next to your ex-girlfriend in the lesson we always sit next to each other in, it's like out thing; to be the funny duo in that class."

"can i not sit next to whoever i want now? maybe i wanted a change," yeonjun scoffed a little, running his hands through his hair.

"that's not what i said, yeonjun. and you know it's not."

"then why are you acting like we're together and that-" and that's when he stopped himself, seeing your eyes well up. he'd spent the entire day ignoring you, too scared about the newly developed feelings he had for you, thinking that they'd eventually go away if he stayed clear of you for a short while. but seeing you in so much pain from just not talking to you for a day honestly hurt him, did he really mean this much to you?

"look.. i'm sorry for ignoring you," yeonjun sighs, eyes focused on the small tear that made its way down your reddened cheek. "i just didn't think sitting next to eunha would be that much of a problem."

"did you.. after everything that happened between you two? after me having to watch it tear you apart and taking care of you for weeks after the breakup, did you really think it wouldn't at least annoy me a little bit?"

"i never asked you to look after me," yeonjun mumbled back.

"but i did.. i did it because i like you and i couldn't bare to see you that upset! i always tried my goddamn best to cheer you up, to take your mind off things until you eventually got over her because it really upset me to see you this down about your entire life. and after so long, i really thought you might have at least picked up on my feelings or have even felt the same way, possibly. so forgive me if seeing that today threw me off a little. i've always tried to be a good friend and i've wanted you to notice me for so long-"

you take a deep breath, realising you had said way too much, a lot more than you expected to. you never meant for him to know about your feelings and you were mentally cursing yourself for not knowing when to shut your mouth.

yeonjun stares at you for a few moments. silence falls between the both of you. "i- i think im just gonna go.. i'll see myself out," you mumble, trying to step away from the situation until yeonjun moved in front of you and cups your face.

it took you a while to register his soft lips pressing against yours, his thumb gently brushing back and forth over your damp cheek.

"i like you too.." yeonjun whispers against your lips, before pressing them against his once again, his hands travelling down to cup your ass softly. "i like you so much."

he pulls away slowly, beginning to realise that this was almost identical do his dream that had caused him to ignore you in the first place. this caused him to chuckle slightly, confusing you.

"i dreamt about something like this last night.. well kinda," he hums "that's why i ignored you because liking you more than a friend felt so unfamiliar and it panicked me.. i thought it'd go away if i ignored you, but it obviously brought us closer than we were before," he giggles a little, holding the small of your back.

"you ignored me.. because of a dream?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"well yeah..." yeonjun trailed off.

"did you ever just consider telling me how you felt instead of trying to ignore the feelings?" you ask, chuckling at him. "damn.. you really do have attachment issues," you joke teasingly.

"i mean.. what can i say? they're one of my most enduring qualities."