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forthehpfanboys · 3 years

Text

Under the Stairs

Pair: Sirius Black x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Sirius has about 0 control over his hands during dinner. That's about it. Oh, and sex by the stairs.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), kinky, dirty talk, exhibitionism, kinda and bad writing. If I missed any please dm me.

Notes: It's gay, man. And I am so, so sorry for how long this took. This took so long, I’m sorry.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

“Sirius!” You smacked his hand away from your thigh for the fifth time that night. You were just trying to enjoy your dinner surrounded by your friends and family and Mr. Grabby Hands next to you was making it hard to do so. Like, couldn’t you eat in peace? Was that so much to ask for?

Sure, you missed the animagus more than anyone could understand, but Merlin’s beard, he was exceptionally grabby tonight and it was starting to get on your nerves, especially since Harry was just across the table with his best friend's family. All nine members and then some, but did Sirius care? No, not at all. Did he ever care? Nope. Once, he fucked you against the wall separating your shared room and Lupin's room. He truly held no shame.

“What?” He turned to look at you, his head tilting to the side. “What’s wrong, love? I thought you missed me.” He grinned at your red cheeks. Godric, you wanted to pull on his hair. You tried to act like your trousers’ weren’t just a tiny bit tighter than when you first sat down.

“I missed you, not your left hand.” You hissed out, smacking his hand away again. “There are actual children!” Your eyes darted around the table. No one seemed to notice what was going on between you two, thank Merlin.

Your nostrils flared when Sirius let out a chuckle, his hand running through his fingers before he nodded. You audibly squeaked when he tugged the side of your chair so you were shoulder to shoulder with him. You smacked his chest, hoping he got the gist with a final glare.

“Fine, fine. I got the message. I’ll be good.” Sirius placed his hand on your knee this time, his thumb running along the fabric of your jeans while he engaged in the conversation with his old friend.

You let out a quiet thank you, your head filled with doubt, before going back to eating. You eyed the hand under the table when you felt it shift. He was shifting the ring on his finger so the jewel was in a more comfortable position before it went still again.

It wasn’t until you were bringing your cup to your lips that you felt the hand move quickly to the space between your legs. You jumped when his palm grinded against your hardening flesh through your jeans, your thighs clamping around the hand. You slammed the cup down, your other hand catching the dribbles of water that escaped. Your head snapped over to him just in time to see him winking at you while raising his own glass to his smirking lips.

The hand that was now free from the glass grabbed his wrist while you wiped your face down. You bit down on your palm when he began to grind against your bulge. Your eyelids fluttered for a second but you snapped out of the state when Harry turned to you, a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your voice cracked in the middle and you played it off like water went down the wrong pipe with a fake couch. Harry just waved off the excuse and scooted closer, the smile as bright as ever.

“I was just wondering if Hermione, Ron and I could check out a muggle shop in town tomorrow? We really wanna show him other ports besides quidditch.”

“Quidditch is the only sport that matters!” Ron shouted at Harry, causing you to snicker. You borderline forgot about the hand caressing your dick and the man basically sitting on top of you.

“Sure, if Molly let’s the twins go with you. You need some form of an adult between you there and Hermione needs a break.” You let out a laugh when the twins began to argue with Harry, something over products and quidditch being the only thing that matters and Hermione shouting a loud ‘thank you!!”. Honestly, at this point you were losing your train of thought. The palm against your pelvis was adding pressure, making you bite your tongue.

“I say, love.. For someone who protested so hard, you sure got hard very quickly.” Sirius’ sultry voice whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver and flush a bright pink. You put a hand on his chest and pushed him back against the spine of the chair.

“Shut it, Black.” You mumbled through a clenched jaw. Your hips jumped forward when his hand slipped into your pants, palming your flesh. Your toes curled against the wooden floor, a needy whine leaving your throat.

You barely registered when everyone began to say goodnight and flee from the dining room in the same chaotic mass they came in as. Once you heard the last floorboard creak and the last door shut, you let your forehead hit the table, a whimper leaving your lips.

“Finally!” Sirius laughed out, his hand now gripping your cock in your pants, his hand moving slowly up and down. “I thought they’d never go upstairs, didn’t you, love?” He paid special attention to the head, using your pre as lubricant to make it easier. He chuckled louder when a moan escaped your lips.

“Fuck you.” You mumbled into the table cloth, your hands grasping at the wooden table for stability. Fuck, he may have been gone for 12 years, but he still knew your body like the back of his hand.

“Oh, I fully intend on us fucking tonight, doll.” He smirked when you twitched in his hand. He knew how much you loved pet names. “How about we finish this elsewhere, hmm?”

“But Lupin just went off to bed. I’d rather not get caught tonight.” You gave him the side eye as he pulled his hand away from between your legs and stood up. His eyes glanced down at you, a chuckle causing his shoulders to bounce up and down.

“I never said we’d do it in the bedroom, love.” He offered out his hand, a dirty smirk clear as day across his lips, causing you to blush. He sure did love his sneaky sex. “Of course.. Why would I assume we couldn’t just use a silencing charm and have a grand time behind a locked door.” You grumbled out, taking his hand and standing up. You were even less surprised when Sirius led you away from the dining table and to the living room, swiftly pulling you against him. “But no, we always have to experiment.” You put your hands on his shoulders when he pressed his face into the side of your neck.

“You know you love being dirty like this, love.” His breath fanned over your neck, leaving you to shudder. He gently led you back against a wall, his hands pressed into your hips.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” You whined out, leaning your head to the side allowing the man to pepper open mouthed kisses along your skin. You licked your lips, your mouth dryer than any desert on Earth.

“I’m not!” Sirius was laughing against your skin, one of his hands traveling south. “I just know how you get, you do have a pretty solid tell.” His hand ran across your bulge, leading your squeak to echo in the dark room. “See, love? This tells me everything.” His mouth worked its way around the front of your throat, licking a warm trail right across your bobbing adam's apple. You tossed your head back against the wall, giving the male more room to ravage you.

You looked up to see the wall he’d pressed you up against wasn’t much of a wall at all. It was the door belonging to the cupboard under the stairs. If anyone walked down the stairs and bothered to glance down at their feet, or over the railing, they’d see you two easily. It was kinda a turn on. His hand unbuttoned your jeans before pushing them down to the floor.

“Sirius, come on.” You whined out, your own hands going to unbutton his shirt. You shuddered when he chuckled into your neck.

“Ok, Ok. I got it, love.” His lips finally met yours in a kiss as your hands pushed the shirt off his shoulders, allowing it to flutter to the floor. His fingers slid under your shirt, his cold hands moved up across your chest before sliding the shirt off your shoulders. Once he’d successfully thrown it across the room, he pressed his lips to yours again, his hands going straight for the underside of your thighs. “Jump.” His raspy voice was back in your ear again.

Once you were sure your arms were wrapped securely around his neck, you jumped up, allowing him to maneuver your legs around his waist. With your ankles locked against his lower back, his hands moved down your thighs and straight to your ass. This man always held back absolutely nothing during your private times together, so of course this time was no different.

Sirius let out a moan when you began to grind against him. To retaliate, he grabbed the elastic of your boxers, pulled it off of your hips and made it snap back against your ass. He ignored your squeak and began to cast a few basic spells- cleansing, maybe stretching- you weren’t sure. All too quickly, he was whispering against your ear again. The stupid tease.

“Don’t tease me, lovie. I will not hesitate to make you scream my name loud enough to make the walls shake.” His hand tugged your boxers down past the swell of your ass, but made sure the top covered you, in case someone did happen to come down. Sirius was risky, but knew literal children were sleeping upstairs.

He balanced you on his hips with one hand and used the other to tug himself free. He stroked his dick, his tongue gliding across his bottom lip as weak pleasure filled his nerves. Your eyes were automatically drawn to the precum dribbling from the swollen head. At the sight of it, you felt an insatiable itch form in your stomach and a whine left your lips as the white liquid rolled over his fingers and dropped to the floor.

“Sirius, come ON.” You urged, your hands moving to his long hair. He grinned at how needy you were despite your attitude earlier. He always loved when you’d throw away the pride, the worry, and finally give into him. Sirius gave you a soft peck on the lips and chuckled.

“Alright, pup, alright.” His eyes twinkling with mischief and a quick wink was sent your way. Sirius planted his hands firmly against your ass, spreading your cheeks while mumbling a few spells to prep you. He enjoyed the squeak you made when the lubrication spell kicked in. “It’s cold.”

“No shit.” You griped out, teeth digging into your bottom lip while your heel dug into his lower back, begging Sirius to actually do something. “Babe, I’m wilting like a flower.” You tried to use your legs to tug him forward.

“Aw, I’m sorry, lovie.” He spoke while finally easing into you, and he continued to speak over your moan. “Feels good, huh?” He chuckled, raising a hand to cover your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, darling, or else we’ll have to stop. And you don’t want that right now, do you? We’ve come this far.” Sirius was just teasing you. Such a surprise.

You grabbed onto his wrist, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your skull when he began to move his hips against you. He couldn’t help but smirk at the whimpers and cries and whines leaving your lips. The wizard was definitely grateful his hand was covering your lips because when he picked a harsh rhythm, and began to rock you higher up the wall with each thrust, your moans raised in volume.

“I do wish you could see how needy you look, stud. It’s breathtaking.” Sirius’ eyes noted how your eyes slowly turned glossy and your cheeks turned hot against his hand. “Absolutely amazing.” He breathed out. He moved his hand to brace the wall allowing him to raise the intensity of your pleasure, but also tuck his head against your neck and trail the skin with kisses. "Try to keep quiet for me, pup."

With that demand, he began to push into you harder and deeper, purposefully dragging a sound out of you despite his demand. You released a whimper loud enough for it to echo in the silent house and his hand smacked against your ass, leaving a louder echo behind. His chest dug into yours, allowing you to feel every shallow breath that left his lungs. It almost felt intimate despite the lustful evening.

You bit your tongue, ignoring the taste of iron as you rested your head against his shoulder. With ease thrust, stars were dancing across your vision and your body was sliding higher up the wall. Eventually, you got sick of the taste of your own blood so you sunk your teeth into his shoulder. The sound of skin slapping skin was almost deafening, but the worry about the noise waking anyone was far from the front of your thoughts.

“You close?” Your voice was rough and crackly, even through the short sentence. You were. Your own cock was throbbing and leaking between your legs, it’s only stimulation being your husband’s stomach rubbing against the underside.

Sirius nodded his head, his hips coming to a stop before he was shifting his arms again. One twisted around your waist, propping you up while the other wrapped around your dripping cock, causing you to toss your head back against the wall with a thud and suddenly you were putty in his hands.

“Oh, shit, Siri.” You bit down on your bottom lip, your back arching off the wall when his thumb grazed the underside of your head. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the curled roots as a reflection of his hand dragging up and down your cock. You weren’t sure if it was moaning his name, or your walls twitching around his cock, but he was teetering on the edge.

“Where do you want it?” His hips slowed, allowing you to actually think and to postpone his orgasm. His hand around your leaky dick, however, did not stop.

“Oh, fuck, in me. We can shower after this.” You let out a weak giggle, your toes flexing behind his back. He raised his head from beside your neck, revealing his dark eyes, mischievous smirk and tongue sticking out.

“I knew you were dirty. Merlin, I love you.” He purred out, his nose booping yours before he picked up the rough pace again. He wanted to see your eyes rolling back, your mouth hanging open and the beads of sweat on your forehead dripping down your skin. It didn’t take long for him to cum inside you, his lips pressing against yours hard enough to bruise. He had to hide his cry of pleasure somehow.

Your hands moved from his hair, to his cheeks, keeping him close during the kiss. You always loved his kisses. His lips were between soft and firm, and he poured his passion into every single kiss and it just made your heart flutter. His hips lost rhythm before coming to a stop. He pulled from the kiss, but didn’t move far away. Sirius still wanted to see you finish.

“Come on, love. You can do it.” He smiled, his eyes filled with admiration. The marauder’s hand never stopped jerking in rapid motions, quickly bringing you over the edge with a cry. He pressed his lips against yours a second too late. He didn’t stop until you were trying to wiggle away from his moving hand and whimpering against his lips. “Amazing, lovie.” His voice was breathy and soft and amazing.

“Thank you, Siri. You were amazing, too.” Your voice was closer to nonexistent at this point and it filled Sirius with pride. You ran your hand along your forehead, wiping the extra sweat away from your skin.

“Don’t you mean ‘amazing like usual’?” He giggled, kissing your forehead and kinda smushing his cheek against yours, pulling a matching chuckle out of you. He just kinda held you close, cuddling you into the wall.

“Are you two done?”

Both of you looked up at the same time to see Remus leaning against the railing. He looked about the same amount of disappointed as usual. Sirius waved up to his friend, a grin spread across his lips. He pulled out of you and tucked himself away, doing the same to you as he spoke to his friend.

“Oh, hey Moony! How long have you been up?” Sirius set you down gently before wiping his hands off on his jeans. He was still smiling like a teenager coming back from spring break to their best friend.

“Enough time to know you two are disgusting. Go to bed. There are literal children here.” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he turned and went back up to his bedroom.

“Oops. I think he’s mad at me.”

“I’m sorry for your loss of his happiness, but can we shower now?”

“Of course, but I’m going to need time to grieve.”

“Do it in the shower.”

#sirius black x male reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black #hp imagine #hp x male reader #sirius black smut #male reader #x male reader #harry potter #remus lupin #Ronny Writes #hp marauders #marauders x male reader #marauders imagine #marauders smut

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

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Defence

They can’t stop each other from being hurt by the past so they do what they can now. They protect each other, their love fierce and soft in equal measure.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Thanks to @aubreyprc for reading this for me to ensure it made sense because I wrote 98% of it in a sleep deprived state. You’re the best, bestie <3

Read over on ao3 or below the cut.

Let me know what you think!

Emily was sure she had never been so grateful for a case to be over. Eight days in a small town, with almost as many dead young boys. Lost at the hands of a man who was taking out his anger at losing his own son out on innocent local families.

She had watched as the man she loved struggled with it, the similarity between the dead children and his own son not lost on anyone in the team. She knew she’d hovered, stayed maybe a little too close, but she missed Jack too. She kept thinking about the homework she had been helping him with before they were called away, how it was probably still spread out on their dining room table.

She couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to never finish it, to walk back into a home that only had memories of the boy she loved as her own. They finished the case a little too late to fly home that evening. Aaron’s disappointment was sharp, his frustration coming out in barbed shouts at the team and the local cops as they packed away, broke down the room they had called home for more than a week. Some work needed finishing in the morning, the finilalsing of interviews that Aaron had said they would help with before they headed back to DC.

Dave had given her a silent look, asked her to work her magic. Emily led Aaron down a small, quiet, hallway and she gently assured him they’d see Jack the following day, that they’d pick him up from school and take him to see the movie he’d been raving about for weeks. It drew a smile out of him, and she had squeezed his hand, quipping that he owed everyone a drink.

It’s how they found themselves in a local dive bar, all crowded around a table. Aaron had his arm around her, slung over her shoulders, and she had hers around his waist. Any discomfort of public displays of affection in front of the team had melted away years ago. She could feel some eyes on them, cops they had worked with over the last week casting curious gazes in their direction, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The case was over, they were heading home in the morning. They could allow themselves to act like a normal couple.

Emily looks up at him and smiles when he looks back at her. She reaches up to press a quick kiss to his lips, her hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a sec.” She kisses him again, and flips Derek off as she walks away when she hears him making a fake gagging noise.

As she enters the hallway she sees two of the officers from the case. Officer Peters, a difficult man who had looked at them all with contempt since they arrived, and his partner Officer Hayes. Peters was clearly a misogynist, his defiance towards her when they’d been partnered up on a couple of interviews over the last few weeks made that clear. She gets closer to them and stops, their conversation loud enough for her to hear.

“I looked him up, you know?” Officer Peters says, taking a sip of his drink, leaning in towards his partner like he was about to tell some grand secret, but not lowering his voice. “Do you remember The Boston Reaper?” He waits for a nod. “The suit killed him. With his bare hands.”

The mention of Foyet always made her blood run cold even all these years later. Haley’s last words echoing around her head as she remembers them finding Aaron with Foyet’s body, still beating him as if the man wasn’t long dead. She lived with a little boy who had very few memories of his mother now, who would still sometimes find his way into her and Aaron’s bed. Nightmares fused with half remembered moments of the worst day of his life. The things he had overheard, but could not understand, twisting into something that was somehow worse than reality.

“Wouldn’t think he had it in him.” Officer Hayes says in disbelief.

“There's got to be something interesting about him to bag Agent Prentiss. You know she's a wild one just by looking at her.” Officer Peters takes another swig of his drink. “He’s a stern bastard, didn’t crack a smile the whole time they were here.”

She knows it’s true, she makes fun of Aaron for it herself often enough. Good natured jibes to make him relax a little, to remind him that they were all there too. Hearing someone else say it, someone who didn’t know them, set her on edge. She knew how Aaron wore his stoicism like an armour, something to protect himself from the things they saw, from the responsibilities he carried. She was there when it all fell away, when he became her Aaron, not Hotch, and it made her protective of him. Something fierce building in her chest.

She clears her throat before she can stop herself, and the officers both turn to look at her.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” She says, an eyebrow raised. “I’ve got to get past you.” She nods down the hallway towards the bathrooms, indicating the amount of room they were taking up.

Officer Hayes has the decency to look caught out, and he steps back almost immediately. Officer Peters, however, stands in her way. Purposely blocking her with a defiant look on his face.

“The case is closed.” He says, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath. Emily wonders how long they had been here, if they had been drinking since the unsub was brought in several hours ago. “Your team can’t tell us what to do anymore.”

Emily rolls her eyes and walks past him, easily getting by, and he grabs her arm, yanks her back towards him. She tries to pull her arm free, but he holds on tighter, squeezing her skin in a way that hurts. She doesn’t let it show.

“Let go of me.”

“Terry-” Officer Hayes tries to warn his partner, cut off before he can get beyond the man's given name.

“What are you going to do?” He asks, getting closer to her, making rage as opposed to the fear she was sure he was after rising in her chest. “Tell your boyfriend.”

When she looks back on it in the weeks to come Emily isn’t sure what made her say something. What made her push past the voice in her head, that sounded suspiciously like her boyfriend, telling her to leave it. To walk away. She thinks it’s down to the brutality of the case, the way she knew it had impacted Aaron much more than he would let anyone other than her know. His facade cracking when their hotel room door closed at the end of a long day, too many hours worked behind them and too few hours of sleep ahead.

Emily had watched as he loosened his tie every night, the stoicism on his face giving way to sadness and something too close to guilt for her liking. She had held him tightly in her embrace, trying to transfer some of her strength to him, kisses and words of love pressed against his skin. A loan she gave freely but knew he would pay back, and then some, the next time it was her turn to fall apart behind closed doors.

“I don’t need to tell him anything.” She smiles at him, and it pisses Officer Peters off more. “I’m a federal agent, this is assault. I’d think long and hard before making me involve him. It won't end well for you.” She tears her arm free, holds back the wince when she can feel her skin bruise. She starts to walk away, forgoing the bathroom altogether to walk back to the team, to Aaron.

“Is that a threat, bitch?”

Emily doesn’t exactly know what happens next, Officer Hayes and Peters move at the same time. She’s sure the former is trying to stop his partner, but she ends up getting a blow to her left cheek either way. She cries out, her hand coming up to her face, pain spreading from the point of impact. She hears Derek yelling from across the bar and she sighs.

All hell was about to break loose. _______________

Emily finds herself grateful that Aaron is not there when everything happened, that he’d stepped out to call Jessica and speak to Jack before he went to bed for the night. When he walks back into the bar she can tell he immediately knows something has happened. She watches as he pauses in the doorway, the relative silence in the bar deafening in comparison to the noise he had left behind.

Aaron looks over and sees Derek and Dave talking to a couple of officers from the case, Officer Hayes included, and then he looks over at where she is sitting, JJ holding ice wrapped in a towel the barman had given them against her cheek.

He’s by her side in seconds, JJ handing over the makeshift ice pack silently, linking arms with Spencer to lead him away to give them some privacy

“What happened to your face?” He cups her jaw gently, his thumb ghosting over the swelling already appearing under her skin, bruising blooming on her cheek.

“It’s ok.” She says, her self deprecating laugh turning into a wince as he presses the wrapped ice to her cheek. “It’s nothing. You should see the other guy. Derek did a number on him.”

“Em.” Aaron says, grabbing her hand with his spare one, gently squeezing it. “Please.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. “Ok.” She swallows and looks at him again, attempting a smile to reassure him. “But you’ve got to understand it is not your fault.”

His face falls, eyebrows furrowing enough that the crease she loves to soothe with her thumb appears on his forehead.

“A couple of the officers from the case were over by the bathroom, I heard them talking about you.” It riles her up again, frustration burning in her chest. “I let them know I was there. One of them was pretty drunk and he grabbed me. I got away and he managed to get a good punch in whilst his partner tried to stop him.”

“Where?” He grits out.

“What?”

“Where did he grab you?” He asks, his voice dangerous. She sighs, rolls the sleeve up on her sweater to show where the finger shaped bruises were forming on her arm. She sees him clench his jaw, the hand not gently holding ice against her cheek forming a fist.

“Honey-”

“I’ll kill him.”

Emily stops him from moving, wrapping her hand around his fist. “Aaron, just breathe. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Emily.” He seethes, anger vibrating off of him in a way she couldn’t remember seeing in years. “He hurt you.”

“Come on, love. I can take a punch just as well as the rest of you.” She says, smiling at him. “Probably better actually.”

“Em.”

“It’s not worth it. He’ll already be losing his badge for this. I’d rather you didn’t go to prison for killing him.” She reaches out and cups his cheek, tries to coax a smile out of him. “I don’t think I could keep up with the mortgage payments by myself and it would be a shame to move.” She presses her forehead to his. “I love the bay window too much.”

Aaron does laugh at that. It’s cracked, catching in his chest, but it’s something and it relieves the tension. “I always knew that’s why you agreed to move in with me. The house.”

“You’ll do too, I suppose.” She kisses him, and becomes serious when she pulls away. “Let’s just get out of here, ok? I’d like to go climb into that tiny excuse for a bath in our hotel room with you.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice, their goodbyes to the team short as they leave the bar. When they get outside Officer Peters is there, his superior officer having arrived once the incident had called through.

Emily has to physically pull Aaron in the opposite direction, she feels the tension in him build again as they take a couple steps away.

“She threatened me first, you know.” Officer Peters yells after them, his anger at Emily still clear. “This is what happens when you let women do this kind of work.”

Aaron rarely used his strength against her, unless she asked him to, but he was out of her grasp before she even knew what was happening.

“Aaron.” She calls after him, catching up with him and grabbing his arm again, her fingers digging into his bicep. “It’s not worth it.”

“She is better at her job than you could ever hope to be.” Aaron spits out, anger flowing from him. “When I’m done with you they won’t even let you direct traffic.” He turns to the detective in charge of the case. “We won’t be back in the morning as discussed, we will be leaving first thing. My team will liaise with you on anything you need.”

He walks away, pulling her with him, before there is any chance of a response. _______________

She wants to distract him, his fingers grazing gently over the bruising on her arm as they sit in the bath together. She was on his lap, crushed up against him so they could both fit. Emily could feel how delicately he was treating her. Even though she couldn’t see his face she knew he was frowning, on a downward spiral, blaming himself for not protecting her.

She links her fingers through his, drags his arm around her so he’s no longer focused on her injuries. “That was pretty hot, you know.” She turns her head to press a kiss into his throat, her fingers dancing across his skin. “What was?” He asks, and she turns her whole body to look at him, settling herself back over his thighs. She bites her lip before she kisses him so he can’t focus too much on her bruised cheek.

“You wanting to go all caveman like that.” She says, moving her lips to his ear lobe, nipping at the delicate skin. “However unnecessary it was.”

His hands grip her hips, pulling her closer to him, and she knows she’s achieved what she had set out to.

“Oh really?” He asks as his hands trail up her back.

“Really.”

She kisses him, and all other thoughts are lost.

#Hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss oneshot #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hurt emily prentiss #Protective Emily Prentiss #Protective Aaron Hotchner #established relationship #they love each other #fluff #hurt comfort #cm fanfiction #Emily prentiss fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner fanfiction #slight misogyny #Aaron shuts it down like the king he is

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

Ignored Advice

Summary: Part II of the Alphabetical Outcast Series. Sylvie (OC) is the eldest child of Hugo Bridgerton, a cousin raised alongside the infamous Bridgerton brood. Born in-between Daphne and Eloise, Sylvie has made it her mission to delay her season again and again. As her deadline to put a stop to her entering the marriage mart this year approaches, Benedict gives his cousin a little pep talk.

Characters: Sylvie Bridgerton (OC) & Benedict Bridgerton

Bridgerton Appreciation Week Prompt: Do it, be bold.

Part I - The Firstborns - Sylvie Bridgerton & Anthony Bridgerton

Part II - Ignored Advice - Sylvie Bridgerton & Benedict Bridgerton

Benedict caught Sylvie’s approaching palm half a moment before it collided with his shoulder, her attempted slap and the groaning of his name an exaggerated response to his sudden presence in the garden she believed to be occupying all on her own, a rather silly assumption seeing as it was nearly impossible to singly inhabit a single space in Bridgerton House, not with ten children, if you could still refer to them that way, regularly milling about its halls and grounds. Even with several of them being married or having their own quarters, the house never seemed empty or quiet.

Suffice to say, Sylvie shouldn’t have been surprised that someone had come upon her in the middle of her endeavor to forge a dirt patch into the perfect lawn with her incessant pacing.

“Don’t do that!” she shouted at Benedict’s playful grin, freeing her hand from his grip to swat at him again as her heartbeat slowed. “You’re always sneaking about.”

Despite being a large man and the tallest of the Bridgerton brothers, Benedict was quiet and he moved in ways that weren’t always noticed, blending in as the color green could do among certain shades of blue, or a pink among certain purples. Somewhere along the line, he had taken a certain liking to using his natural stealth to rile his siblings and cousins.

“I have just as much of a right to enjoy my mother’s lovely flowers as you have.”

Some would argue that Benedict Bridgerton had more of a right to occupy the space, that as second in line to the title, it was nearly his garden, and the cousin whose thoughts he had interrupted had not a single claim on the flora, but Benedict had no interest in his claim. He’d happily settle for being second in line.

“What are you so worked up over this morning?” he asked when his comment received nothing but a return to pacing, the space over which she marched stunted by a few steps due to his presence.

“Who says I’m worked up?”

Gregory and George and Hyacinth had told him so over his eggs, but Benedict had no plans to tell Sylvie that, and he had no need to seeing as she’d just swatted at him, supplying him with plenty of evidence to support his accusation. Benedict simply raised his eyebrows and gave her a gentle smile, something not quite as smug as a smirk gracing his lips.

It took only a moment for Sylvie to give in, her shoulders heaving as she took a seat on the bench, hiding her face in her hands while Benedict moved to occupy the space beside her.

“I suppose I’m not so subtle.”

Benedict snorted at that. Bridgertons weren’t very good with subtleties. They communicated more in grand gestures and loud declarations, even the passive aggressive moments were rambunctious and obvious in nature, with silent treatments emphasized by the blatant actions that accompanied them.

“I shouted at the little ones over breakfast,” Sylvie offered. “They were being dreadfully vexatious. I couldn’t help myself.”

Benedict nodded. The kids towed a fine line between entertaining and exasperating. It had once been them getting chastised for their boisterous nature at the breakfast table, and some mornings it still was, but more often it was the youngest set with their endless source of energy primarily used for running about and arguing and shouting. He didn’t really fault her for a little outburst.

“And my deadline is approaching,” she mumbled.

“Deadline?”

Sylvie rolled her eyes.

“Now Ben, don’t pretend Anthony hasn’t already told you,” she answered, figuring that Anthony had pulled his brother into his office at the earliest opportunity after their last discussion. “I suppose he’s employed you to convince me to give this up and fall in line.”

Sylvie was surprised the whole lot of her elder cousins hadn’t descended upon her to bring her along to Anthony’s way of thinking. She had been expecting conversations with each of them, but the subject hadn’t been raised since she left Anthony’s office nearly two weeks before.

Benedict leaned back as he set his ankle over his knee. “Well, I must admit you having your season would go a long way in helping my dear mother forget that she has a marriageable son.”

“But?” Sylvie prompted.

“But I understand your plight.”

Society acted as if a woman’s life didn’t begin until one was married, until one was a wife and a mother, but to Sylvie marriage felt like an end, like the death of some part of her she hadn’t even gotten a proper grasp on yet, a part of her she felt certain was a part she rather liked. She wasn’t ready to let it go.

It didn’t make any difference to see that her married cousins were deeply in love, seemingly changed only for the better by the matches they’d made because Sylvie didn’t trust the odds of that sort of happiness for herself.

Of course, much of the married Ton kept up appearances, seemingly content in their hastily made matches, but Sylvie didn’t trust appearances either.

Appearances showed a world of people happy, a world of people content with their station and society and their lot in life, but she knew well enough that most people weren’t happy. Most people didn’t receive a true love match. Most people didn’t have a life that showcased the things they truly loved. Most people had lives that showcased the things society expected, the majority of people more engrossed with impressions and opinions of society than anything else.

The Ton smiled and danced and wed, but beneath all that was a layer of torment.

Sylvie knew Benedict understood that, knew they had a bit of shared appreciation for that bit of truth because Sylvie knew of his art, had seen the remarkable portraits he’d done of each of them, and though Benedict hadn’t been able to take her complimentary words to heart, hadn’t been ready to really accept praise for his art, Sylvie knew they shared a certain understanding about the world.

Sylvie envied Benedict a bit for knowing what his passion was when she had neither knowledge nor the ability to act on such a thing, and furthermore, she begrudged her cousin just a bit for not acting on it, for keeping his talents and desires hidden, for keeping up the very appearances they knew were expected.

“So, you can speak with—”

“Anthony? Oh, no. Definitely not,” Benedict said.

“But you—”

“I haven’t convinced Anthony of a single thing in my entire life. I can’t imagine I’ll have any luck where you haven’t.”

“You're his brother.”

“And you’re his favorite cousin.”

“I believe George is everyone’s favorite.”

“Well, George is a bit easier to manage, I suppose,” Benedict said, tilting his head back and forth as he considered it, his face scrunched a bit. “A more of a charming demean—”

The heel of Sylvie’s palm made contact with her cousin’s shoulder again, a barking laugh pouring from Benedict’s lips as he nudged her back.

“You prove the point far more often than you’re aware.”

“Yes, and that’s all the more reason for me to not enter society. I’m afraid I’m simply not ready, not well-behaved enough.”

Benedict hummed. “Yes, Anthony did mention you were exploring that angle.”

“I’m not exploring any angles,” she answered. “It’s simply my natural charm, as you’ve just said.”

“Maybe use some of that charm on my mother, then. Present your case? Prove your point? You know she’s the one who needs the convincing. If she agrees, Anthony has no choice.”

Sylvie shook her head. “I’m not ready.”

“To tell mother or to marry?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Both, I suppose.”

Benedict set a hand on her shoulder. “Do it at the weekend, then. Wait until she’s relaxed, away from everything reminding her of the impending season. Present your argument then. You may recall a rather wise Bridgerton once said ‘do it, be bold.’ I believe the same words apply here.”

Sylvie snorted, unable to prevent herself from smiling at the memory of late summer nights passed on the swings with Benedict and Eloise, cigarettes passed between the three of them and a handful of secrets too.

“If I recall, you ignored that wise Bridgerton’s perfectly splendid advice because you’re an absolute fool who refuses to see reason.”

Benedict’s eyebrows shot up, but an easy smile held on his face as he shook his head.

“Ah, yes, and there we have your natural charm on display once again.”

#bridgerton appreciation week #bridgertonevent2021 #BridgertonWeek2021 #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton #sylvie bridgerton

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writing-red · 4 years

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The Milky Tea | 3

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: It’s their sixth year, Draco and the reader are placed in an arranged marriage by their pureblood families, expected to follow through they navigate their feelings for each other amongst the many other social pressures at Hogwarts.

Warnings: PARENTAL ABUSE! (verbal & physical) murder, and cussing. Harry and Draco are IDIOTS. also a hangover.

Word Count: 5.2K

Thank you so much to @malfycs who has continuously motivated and helped me with this project <3

A/N- I try to write neutral outfits so you as the reader can imagine yourself in something you would be comfortable in so ... Now I’m sorry this is late I was up until 4am writing an essay so I hope you all enjoy!

You awoke to sunlight streaming into the common room, your head screaming, you felt worse than nasty, and all you wanted was to go back to bed. But, you slowly and quietly got up, contemplating whether or not to wake up Ron, ultimately deciding to leave him and let him sleep. He had the opportunity to have a good day, unlike yourself, and you didn’t want to ruin that for him.

As you approached your dorm room, his words from last night rang through your head, ‘Look presentable.’ Of course, he would demand that of you. Yet you did as you were told, not wanting to risk another interaction like last nights. Lucky for you, when you slipped into your room, all of your roommates were fast asleep, including Hermione, meaning you wouldn’t have to answer any questions just yet. Desperate to not wake them, you quietly grabbed your things and slipped out of the room to the showers.

Your shower wasn’t long, and it didn’t do much to help your head, but it did feel good to wash off the grime of last night. Still, the boiling hot water couldn’t wash away your new reality. So you finished, stepped out, and used a spell you had learned from a Gryffindor girl in the year above you to dry and style your hair. You put some light makeup on and threw on what you hoped Draco would deem presentable. You caught yourself in the mirror and felt your heart lurch. Who is that? You didn’t look much different, but you couldn’t help but feel different, like something was wrong, and you didn’t know how to make it better. But, you swallowed your anxiety, dropped Ron’s clothes he had let you borrow on your bed back in your dorm, grabbed a small black baguette bag, and headed to the Great Hall where you assumed you’d be meeting Draco since you didn’t necessarily have time to discuss the details last night.

When you entered the hall, Draco was in his usual spot at the head of Slytherin’s table. When you saw him, you froze. Now that you weren’t drunk off your ass, you could finally process precisely what had happened last night, everything he said to you. That you really weren’t your own person, that you hadn’t been before, and that you wouldn’t ever be. You don’t know how long you were standing there for, but at some point, Blaise Zabini broke you from your trance.

“Hey there, Y/l/n, I hear you are sitting with us today,” it’s likely he had come up to you because Draco sent him to retrieve you, but there was an edge to his voice that you didn’t understand. Like he knew something you didn’t.

“I guess,” you responded quietly, you were confused, overwhelmed, and seriously hungover.

“Brilliant, let’s go, I’m sure you need a cup of tea after last nights activities,” he said, each word intentional, gazing at your hickey and started towards where Draco and his crew were sitting, expecting you to follow, which of course, you did. Had he seen you with Harry, or did Blaise assume Draco made the mark?

Once you made it to the table, you noticed that the only seat available was directly next to Draco. You sat silently in what was clearly your new assigned spot, and Blaise pushed a cup of tea in front of you. You wondered if Ron had gotten up yet and if he was wondering where you were. Or, if Hermione had seen you on the couch when she had gotten back last night. You wondered if they would come looking for you today to find you sitting with the people who had tried so hard to make both of your lives hell for the last six years. You kept to your thoughts as you sipped at your tea as you let your mind wander, not interested in whatever the Slytherin’s were talking about.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling?” Draco asked, interrupting your train of thought, and startling you.

He had been acting oddly even before the letters arrived, which, of course, had been a subject of conversation amongst your friends. Harry assumed he had become a Death Eater, which you didn’t doubt, while Hermione figured it was just what happened at the Ministry last term, and his father's arrest that was effecting him. Either way, there was something sad and focused about him this year you hadn’t seen in him before. Instead of being the entitled school-yard bully, he was focused, elsewhere, and no longer troubling himself with tripping you in the halls. Yet, at this moment, he was the same Slytherin Prince who ruled the school you had known from the years before, and it scared you.

“I’ve just got a headache,” you said quietly. He called you darling, that had to just be apart of the show.

“Well, push that aside, we’ve got a whole day ahead of us, love.”

When he called you love heard Pansy Parkinson scoffed. Shit. You forgot about her and her little crush on Malfoy. You would just have to add that to the list of things you would be glancing over your shoulder for this year. You just nodded in response to Draco, ignored Parkinson, and continued sipping your tea, too queasy to eat, allowing the Slytherins around you to continue with their conversation and breakfast while keeping your eyes on the grand doors.

It wasn’t long until Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walked in, all scanning the entire hall for you as Ron likely alerted them that you were missing this morning. It was Hermione who locked eyes with you at the Slytherin table and mouthed ‘Bathroom?’ to which you nodded.

You put a hand on Draco’s arm, interrupting his conversation.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to head to the lavatory before we walk to Hogsmeade?” You formed it as a question, but you were standing and departing just before he could agree. You walked as fast as you could without being suspicious, meeting Ginny and Hermione in the girls' lavatory nearest the Great Hall.

“I don’t have long. They think I’m peeing,” you said quickly.

“Merlin, Y/n/n, are they keeping you bloody hostage?” Ginny asked.

“You could say that. Last night Draco caught me with somebody, and he didn’t really take it well. He pulled me out into the hall and basically said it was time to start dating in order to appease our parents,” you said as you rubbed your temples, recalling the memory making your headache worse.

“Is that all? Did he threaten you?” Hermione asked.

“It’s my parents I’m worried about ‘Mione, he just reminded me that this was all real and that I didn’t have a choice.”

“Of course you have a choice,” Ginny said.

“Ginny, are you joking?!” you exclaimed. “If I had an inch of control over my life, I wouldn’t live with them anymore! I wouldn’t be marrying Draco! I’d have run away or- I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be in this situation,” you said, fighting to push your sadness and anger down. None of your friends would ever understand. You’d met Molly, she’s the perfect mother she would never lay a hand on one of her children, much less force them into an unwanted marriage. “I don’t have an inch of control over my life, much less a choice of what happens in it.”

“I’m sorry-”

Ginny’s apology was cut short by Pansy sauntering into the lavatory, “Y/l/n!” You heard her call your name. “Are these two bothering you?” She asked as she stood next to you and took her arm in yours as some sort of display of dominance.

“Don’t worry about it, Pansy,” you said, clearly made uncomfortable by her presence. “I just finished.”

“Well then, let’s go, your boyfriend is waiting for you,” she said, fake kindness outlining her voice.

You gave Ginny and Hermione a look that said, ‘I’ll tell you everything later, I am so, so sorry’ as Pansy dragged you back to Draco. You felt awful for raising your voice at your friends, but you hoped that they would understand, and at the moment, something else concerned you. First, it was Blaise shepherding you to Draco, now Pansy. It was as if Draco was trying to tell you that his people were watching you when he couldn’t. It was just as you had said to Ginny, you had no control.

Pansy made sure you made it back to Draco quickly, not caring to make any small talk with you. You were sure she was pissed about Draco making her babysit you instead of taking her out on a date, and you were positive this wouldn’t be the last time.

You noticed Draco standing in the hall waiting for you, and Pansy passed you off to him when she saw him, the two exchanging a nod that only confirmed your earlier thoughts.

Draco wrapped his arm around your shoulder once you approached him, “How were Ginny and Hermione?”

“They weren’t wrong to be worried,” you responded quickly. You knew that Draco wasn’t stupid, and you wouldn’t treat him as if he were.

“Well, you look lovely today,” he said. It was a genuine compliment, which wasn’t something you were ready to believe.

“So, what have you planned for our date?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“I know how you love bookstores, so we’re starting at Tomes and Scrolls, after that is a surprise,” he answered coyly, which surprised you. How did Draco Malfoy know that you liked bookstores? You had never told him, and your passion for books only came after befriending Hermione Granger, so how did he find out? And why did he care to know?

“How did you find that out?” You asked after you thought for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

“Between last night and this morning, how did you find out that I love bookstores?” You asked.

“Why do you continue to doubt me, Y/l/n?” He questioned you back.

Draco had loved you for so long, of course, he knew. He’d never forget the day you bounced into the library just after everyone had returned from Winter Holiday your third year telling Hermione of the bookstores you had visited in Paris. You described every single detail, focusing on one first edition of Pride and Prejudice that your parents hadn’t allowed you to get. The sheer joy in your voice at the recollection of the bookstores you had experienced was enough to send Draco over the moon. At that moment, he hadn’t cared that you weren’t talking to him. All he cared about was listening to your melodic voice recant the ivy that wrapped itself around the bookshelves in the shop off of the Seine. It wasn’t until Madam Pince shushed you that Draco’s trance was broken. Although Draco knew he couldn’t share this with you, he had already broken your heart. He knew that he didn’t deserve you and that whatever he said, he would never be able to get you to love him back. So, instead of sharing his story, he resigned to walking with you in silence.

Depending on the company and the weather, the walk to Hogsmede can either take twelve minutes or twelve years. Today, with Draco by your side, it took millennia. Since neither of you knew what to say, you each chose silence, which was possibly worse than pestering one another. Although anytime people would pass by you, Draco would all of a sudden start talking to you about anything that came to mind. You assumed it was one of his way of keeping up appearances.

Eventually, the two of you made it to Tomes and Scrolls. Although you still weren’t sure why Draco wanted to watch you look at books and call it a date, you wouldn’t refuse the opportunity to browse their collection.

“Go ahead and look around, I’ve got to pick something up from the front, alright?” He said, and you happily complied. Any chance to get a break from the decently awkward silence, you left your boyfriend's side and quickly made your way to the history section.

You took a deep breath when you arrived, the smell of books, black tea, and dusty cushions filled your nose and brought you a little bit of peace. You browsed silently, excited by the books you hadn’t seen before, and of course, picking up the ones that called to you. Eventually, after having your fill of the history section, you made your way to spells where you found another book you just couldn’t resist, sorting through all the insanely beautiful and magical texts. While turning around to look at the bookshelf behind you, you bumped right into Draco, holding something behind his back.

“Well, it looks like you’ve found something,” he said.

Forgetting about your predicament for a moment, you held up the first book you had found, “well this one is about the Salem Witch Trials and the muggle’s understanding of what happened. Apparently, some old writer wrote a play about it! And there are transcripts of the testimonies from the muggle court proceedings. Then,” you held up a second book. “This one is is about occulemency, it was in the spell section, which obviously isn’t where it belongs, so I picked it up to put it back, but I’d honestly really love to learn more about occulemency, and this copy makes it look so interesting, so why not?”

Draco couldn’t help but fall deeper in love with you as you rambled on about the books you had found. How one person could find so much passion in something so many find boring, he would adore about you forever.

“I’m glad you found something, dear. I’ve also got something for you,” he said.

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry it’s not wrapped,” he apologized as he handed you an old beat-up book.

“Draco, is this?”

“One of the first printed editions of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen,” he said, nerves biting at his voice.

You missed the nerves in his voice as you were focused on your own confusion. He, Draco Malfoy, but you a muggle book? But, why? How could he have known you had been searching for this book for ages, that it had slipped through your fingertips in Paris. Where in the world was this extension of kindness and care suddenly coming from?

“Draco I-”

“Don’t ask, Y/n, just take it, please,” he said, placing the book on top of your pile. “Now, let’s get you a bag for all of these.”

After checking out, and Draco refusing to let you pay for the books, not sure what was next, you followed him out of the shop out into Hogsmede. He led you down to Honeydukes.

“I was thinking we could get some sweets, then go over to the Three Broomsticks,” He said, sounding almost shy. “The- uh surprise was really just the book.”

You nodded, “that sounds lovely, and thank you, Draco, I’ve been looking for this copy for a long time,” it was awkward, but you really wanted to find some way to properly thank him.

The two of you entered Honeydukes, the warm waft of sweets pleasantly wrapping around both of you, causing a smile to grace your lips.

“Draco, what’s your favorite sweet?” you asked.

“Crystalized pineapple,” he said and picked up a bag.

“I love chocolate frogs,” you responded. “But crystallized pineapple is good too.”

This kind of awkward back and forth continued while you both browsed the store you already knew so well. You’d comment about the new colors of the sugar quills, and he would ask if you wanted anything from the chocolate section, which of course, you said yes. While shopping, you picked up some items for your friends.

“You like pumpkin pasties?” Draco asked a sour look on his face, clearly displaying his distaste for the pastry.

“No, they’re for Harry,” you said without a second thought.

“You’re buying him, sweets, now?” Draco asked through his teeth.

“Draco, he’s my friend. I haven’t forgotten our conversation from last night. I can still buy my friends gifts,” You said and grabbed the few things he had in his hands and headed to the checkout counter. You quickly handed the witch working the galleons to pay for the sweets.

“You minx!” You heard Draco shout playfully.

“I have to get you back for that book,” You called without looking at him, insinuating that you weren’t yet done, as you put your things in separate bags.

“That was so quick,” he said.

“I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve,” you said as you picked up the bags and spun around to find Draco, who was just an inch away. You paused for a moment, the closeness causing your stomach to turn. Trying to push out the weird feeling, you handed Malfoy his bag.

“Three broomsticks?” you asked quickly, to which he nodded. “Brilliant, let’s go.”

As the two of you made your way out of the shop, one of your uncomfortable silences quickly falling back over you, Draco bumped into none other than Harry Potter.

“Oi, watch it, Potter,” Draco sneered at him, somehow even nastier than usual.

You lightly grabbed Draco’s forearm as an attempt to keep him calm.

“Or what Malfoy? You’ll tell your father?” Harry retorted.

“Boys, stop it, now” you hissed, looking around at the crowd that had gathered in a circle around you.

“Do you want another bloody nose job Potter, I really tried to help you that last time,” Draco shot to Harry, ignoring your warnings.

“Well I’m surprised, the only way you can get a girlfriend is through blackmail,” Harry bit back.

Draco whipped his wand out. “Say it again, go, ahead Potter since you’re so brave, say it again.”

“Go ahead and hex me, Malfoy,” Harry leaned in close enough so that you couldn’t hear. “Get her to hate you forever.”

Draco considered Harry’s words and lowered his wand slowly. “Stay away from us,” he said, bitterly conceding.

You were mortified, unsure of what to do, but Draco took your hand in his and pushed your way out of the crowd and away from Hogsmede.

“Draco,” you said as you entered the mouth of the path to Hogwarts. He didn’t respond, so you spoke up, “Draco!”

“What!?” He shouted, stopping in his tracks.

“When you said that about Harry’s nose, did you-”

“Yes, I broke his nose, but are you really taking his side?” Draco demanded. “Did you not hear what he said?”

“Yes, but,” he cut you off again.

“But what? But he’s my friend?” He said, mocking your voice. “You really are stupid, aren’t you,” he said nastily.

“Excuse me, you think that’s the way to be friendly? By calling me stupid?” You didn’t want a repeat of last night, you would stick to the deal, but you wouldn’t let him treat you like shit.

“I’m sorry but really Y/n, taking his side is just-” He said, realizing what he had said wasn’t okay.

“Draco, I tried to get you to walk away before he even said anything! Don’t call me stupid because I care about my friends. Now I’m sorry that Harry was a jerk, and I’ll talk to him, but you need to not be a jerk yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” he said, a bit quiet.

“Great, now let’s go back to the castle together so that nobody suspects we’ve broken up after one date.” You said, and took his hand. At least you two weren’t yelling at each other so much.

Draco walked you back to your common room, keeping an eye on you until he couldn’t. Just as you were ready to be rid of him for the evening, he put a hand on your cheek and leaned in close enough to kiss you, causing you to draw in your breath and hold it.

“You did a fine job today. Keep it up,” he said, returning to his new cold self, examining you, dropping his hand, and leaving.

The second he turned the corner, you released your breath and quickly uttered the password to the Fat Lady, who for once didn’t bother you and just let you in. You entered a packed room, but immediately picking out Harry and Ron, who were going over plans for their upcoming game.

“Harry James Potter, what is wrong with you?” You asked, causing Ron to jump.

“What? It’s not like you fancy the prick,” Harry retorted.

“That doesn’t mean you also have to make my life hell. He’s enough, but you making a spectacle out of things is worse,” you said.

“I’m sorry, Y/n I didn’t think about it like that,” he said, his voice genuine.

“Of course not, because you’re not the person who has to deal with the bloody ramifications, you get to walk away,” you said and left, headed straight to your dorm. When you threw open your door, Ginny and Hermione were sitting on your bed, clearly waiting for you.

“Ginny, I’m sorry about earlier. I really didn’t mean to react like that,” you said from your spot in the door, rushed but genuine. “I am so so sorry.”

“Merlin, Y/n, don’t apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to say, now come sit down, you’ve clearly got a lot you’ve got to talk about,” Ginny responded, instantly calming you down.

You nodded, exhausted by the last twenty-four hours but desperate to talk to people who genuinely care about you, you plopped down on the bed between the two.

“I don’t even know where to start,” You said and let out a breath. “So last night Draco rips me out of the party and loses his shit on me,” you started, which made Ginny giggle, encouraging you to crack a smile. “Being the incredibly kind and caring person he is, the git reminded me that if I did not do as I was told, my father would do the same to me that he did to Wiliam.”

“He didn’t!” Hermione exclaimed, the shock evident on her face.

“Oh, it gets worse,” you responded. “He says that we’re going to be a couple, I have to go on dates with him, and keep up appearances. Basically, that I am all his, and that my fate had been sealed the second our parents agreed that we’d be married.”

“Shit, Y/n/n,” Ginny said and shook her head.

“That was just last night! Wait till I tell you about today’s outing!”

You told them everything about your day, not sparing a single detail. You knew Draco had at least told Blaise, so what was the harm in telling Hermione and Ginny? As you were talking, you changed into pajamas. It was nice to be able to speak freely and laugh at the ridiculous nature of your situation. If you didn’t, you feared you would go insane.

“And the best part?” You asked as you opened a chocolate frog for Ginny, who was braiding your hair. “Harry decided today would be the perfect day to pick a fight with Malfoy.”

“Of course he did,” Hermione said, falling back onto the bed. “What a prick.”

“So Harry purposely bumps into Malfoy, and both of them turn into ten-year-olds,” you said and laughed. “It was fucking ridiculous. There was a whole crowd around us, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all we hear about for the next bloody week.”

“Well, did anything happen?” Ginny asked. Luckily the news hadn’t traveled that fast.

“I mean, they were jerks to each other,” you said. “Harry said, and I quote, ‘the only way you can get a girlfriend is through blackmail. But they didn’t exchange any spells, thankfully.”

“He’s such an idiot,” Hermione said to which all of you nodded.

“And apparently, now I’m speculating a bit, but I think that Harry was late to the feast because Draco broke his nose on the train.”

“That would explain the blood,” Ginny muttered, and Hermione nodded.

“Anyways, we walked back here, and he was his usual Malfoy self,” you said.

“How odd,” Ginny commented, and you agreed excitedly.

“Right?! Thank you! I’ve been going crazy over it all.”

“Well, I say we all get to sleep, it’s been a long weekend, and the year isn’t going to get any easier,” Hermione commented, prompting nods of agreement from you and Ginny.

You awoke Monday morning to Hermione’s alarm feeling decent thanks to the full night’s sleep, which you were deeply grateful for. Thanks to Hermione, you had time to get ready without any rush, and the two of you made your way to the common room to meet up with Harry and Ron so you could make your usual walk to the Great Hall. However, they weren’t there, and neither you nor Hermione planned on waiting for them. Your walk transpired, free of abnormalities, things only appearing astray upon your entrance to the Great Hall. For one, Harry and Ron had arrived before you and Hermione, which was unheard of, and second, your seat next to Draco was open yet again.

You looked at Hermione, then looked at the open seat, silently communicating your thoughts.

“It’s probably better that you go sit with him, you know, to stay on his good side. And maybe I’ll be able to figure out what’s going wrong with Harry,” Hermione said, picking up on your glances.

“This is why everyone says your so smart, isn’t it?” you said.

“That or I’m just incredibly logical,” she said and shrugged.

“You’re a genius, ‘Mione, I love you,” you said, blowing a kiss her way as you walked to the Slytherin table.

Breakfast wasn’t as bad as the day before, although that doesn’t mean it was fun. Crabbe made fun of you for finally eating, considering you hadn’t eaten the day before. Blaise and Pansy each observed your every move when you buttered your toast and the way you picked up your pumpkin juice. Draco basically ignored you, despite willing you to sit with them. The worst thing were the hoards of people whispering both your and Draco’s name. The whole school must have known at this point, and for the first time this year, Harry’s name wasn’t on everyone’s lips. It was yours.

“I think we should get going,” you said to Draco and Blaise as class drew closer, although you predominately just wanted out of under the school’s gaze.

“You’re probably right,” Blaise said as he scooped his bookbag off of the floor. “We’ll see you fools later,” he said to Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson.

Following Blaise, you stood up alongside Draco, unable to block out the words floating around you.

“Merlin are they really together?” you heard a fourth year Ravenclaw speculate.

“Why else would she be sitting with them?” their friend responded.

Draco must have heard them too because he picked up your bag for you, grabbed your hand, and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t listen to any of them, they’re just jealous, darling."

You swallowed the tension that rose in your throat and forced a smile to come upon your lips, following a nod in recognition. With that, the three of you walked off to the dungeons for your potions class. You filed into the class, and since you were still working with Draco, you didn’t have the opportunity to speak to Hermione, and your thoughts were quickly interrupted by Professor Slughorn.

“Alright, this is the last day you’ll have with your amortentia. If you were successful, you should be able to smell what attracts you the most in your potion by the end of class. As Miss Granger kindly noted on our first day of class, a properly brewed bought will also have a mother of pearl sheen. Please call me over when you believe you are done.”

In approaching your potion, you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that it wasn’t half bad and that it may possibly turn out to be good. You and Draco worked quietly and efficiently to finish the project with the hopes of receiving good marks. Although Harry and Ron were the first to complete the potions, which was most likely thanks to Harry’s annotated textbook, which didn’t bother you much.

Not shortly after, your potion shifted from a flat red to a shimmering white, and you looked at Draco, indicating for him to raise his hand to summon your Professor. Slughorn noticed the blonde’s hand and shuffled over to your shared workspace to view your potion. After looking it over approvingly, he glanced up at both of you.

“Could you please tell me what you smell, Mr. Malfoy?” He asked Draco as this was apart of the criteria for completing the project.

Draco nodded and leaned over the cauldron, “I smell vanilla, old books, peonies,” he paused a moment, “and firewhiskey.”

“An exceptionally exciting lady, you’ve got your mind on there!” Slughorn said with a chuckle, then gestured to you. “Now, if you don’t mind, Miss. Y/l/n.”

You nodded and took your spot above the potion, breathing in. “Green apples, expensive cologne, and,” you took another breath “I don’t know Professor, it’s hard to tell.”

“No, no darling, sometimes if our feelings are confused, we have a hard time smelling Amortenia! I doubt this is a reflection of your potion brewing skills as you, my dear, are top of the class. This is a wonderful draught of Amortentia you two, good work, you’ll be getting top marks,” Slughorn explained, causing you more concern than joy. “Feel free to enjoy the rest of the period for yourselves,” he said to dismiss you both.

You turned back around to look for Draco, who was already nearly out of the classroom. You quickly picked up your bookbag and rushed after him. Being that his legs were longer than yours, you had to call out his name once you were out of the classroom.

“Draco!” you shouted from across the hallway.

“What?” He turned around and bit at you, not bothering to walk towards you.

“Why did you rush out? We received top marks,” you asked.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to spend any more time with me than you had to,” he said, his explanation clearly rubbish.

“Oh, alright, well let me know when you want to plan a study date or anything of the sort,” you said and nodded, and he didn’t give a moment to process, just turning around and returning to his long strides towards the Slytherin common room while you stood in the middle of Hogwarts dungeons.

Had it been Draco you smelled in that potion? It certainly wasn’t Harry, he often smelled of soap and the quidditch pitch, and he rarely wears cologne. It wasn’t as if there were any other boys around Hogwarts you thought that much about.

‘Vanilla, old books, peonies, and firewhiskey’

It couldn’t be you he smelled in the Amortentia. Draco despised you, you were sure of it. What other explanation could there be? He had to hate you. How else could you explain his constant attitude? But then there was the book yesterday, how could he have known about that? Why did he care to know? And why did he care enough to order it in for you? You were paralyzed in your confusion. He could have lied about what he had smelled, Slughorn wouldn’t have known the difference, so, why?

Part 4 - The Maroon Jumper

Taglist - @whatawildone @herequeerandstressed @lordfxxker @pillowjj @pointlesscoconut @lovelylangdonx @fire-in-her-veinz @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @oi-itsemily @lukehemmingslut831 @peachybeannn

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco x you #Draco Malfoy x you #arranged marriage #draco malfoy arranged marriage #arranged marriage fic #harry potter #fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction

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betweentheracks · 3 years

Text

Updates//Recent Inactivity

Hello all! This is me finally taking some time to sit down and offer up a rundown on how life is currently going as a means of explaining my inactivity. This is a personal post that is guaranteed to be both rambling and emotional so if that is not your cup of tea, I understand and happily advise you just skip over this post as it is not relevant to the actual content this blog was intended for.

EDITED: After reading this back I now realize this is really just me spilling the tea on my own life and is laughably dishy in details which is extremely not my usual stance on my personal privacy. But idk, it was cathartic so I'm leaving it as is despite the urge to redact 70% of what I say.

I'll start with the good news that I am officially out of lockdown and have remained COVID-19 free since my return home from the hospital. This also means my son finally was allowed to come home to me which is dazzling and exciting and also a little terrible too. He's at a precocious age where tantrums are the cool way to communicate and having been gone for so long completely thrashing his established routine has caused friction. He came home and his parent was not the same as when he left; is much weaker and less energetic than before, paler and shaky - but also there's the addition of my best friend having moved in to assist and take care of me/him while we all do our best to muddle through.

The readjustment has been rough and a lot of this week has made me incredibly thankful to have practically zero memory of how I was as a child. There have been injuries: I have been whacked in the face with the metal cover for a floor vent while dozing on the sofa instead of paying rapt attention to whatever silliness he was showing off to me, there was his complete dismissal of me asking him to stay back and away from the hot oven as I pulled lunch from it's fiery jaws only to then be faced with a toddler quickly approaching with his hand raised to touch so I naturally made a move to block him and in the process I let go of the oven door which slammed upward and clamped my arm tightly between it and the inside cavern of the oven while it was set to a roasty 400 degrees Fahrenheit - earning me a mangled arm with burns of varying degrees, and then we also had that fit where it seemed like a much more grand idea to scale the babygate cordoning the stairs and I had to rush up them to stop him from tumbling face first down two flights and of course did the falling all on my own and did it backwards then slammed painfully into the wall of the landing. This all happened within a 48hr time frame and makes me wonder why I am so catastrophically inclined.

I have bruises that range the majority of my spine courtesy of the wall and stairs, two minor first degree burns on my forearm that are in the shape of an equals and quite large despite the lack of actual pain I feel from them, and the underside of my forearm was instantly blistered then popped then melted down into a horrid glob of skin mush and sticky red-orange and is a second degree burn that I have been assured is no real cause for concern as long as I tend it with care. In all, I managed to escape my momjuries relatively unscathed and with a child that was scared senseless at having hurt his momma and is quick to listen and never stops cuddling me in the time since. Here's hoping he isn't significantly traumatized from this since exactly none of this is especially his fault and is due to my clumsy, accident-prone status in life.

So yes, The Toddler has returned home to me and after some happenings we have settled and are happy. However, his blast from the past father has suddenly just decided to reemerge after more than a year of radio silence and static and has slapped me with a custody petition. Hooray. While I have no worries on this matter due to my mother working for one of the top custody lawyers in the state and snagging him as my representation, and the utter lack of competency on my estranged baby daddy's end clearly being displayed in literally anything and everything the idiot does/says, I do have to now go through the overhaul of a custody case and that is just so weak and exhaustive. Not to mention the basis of his claims that I am not fit to raise a child are founded in my health concerns and the crazy work schedule I keep; ironically, my health is making it so that I have much less insane hours and makes this fairly moot but to each their own I guess. Also worth noting on this matter is that he only did this now because he was recently placed under penalty for child support back pay and nothing in this world matters to him like his money and this is his special way of getting one over on me for tampering with his meager earnings. (He's a wannabe musician - the soundcloud rapper sort, just so we are all on the same page here). If I thought for even a second this was a genuine desire to be an active and stable parent I would be a lot less pressed to act in favor of making it legally binding that he can only see him under a supervisory condition and share time evenly, but it just is not believable in the slightest.

So the thing is - my health is actually quite dismal presently. I'm due in for open heart surgery on the 8th of April and until then I have been doing my utmost to mind all the nagging I get from doctors, PT specialists, the surgeons that will be slicing and dicing me, and my in-family medical practitioner that sometimes remembers he is also my brother and not just an MD. But like, you guys, this surgery is terrifying and technically is two surgeries rolled into one. They'll be cracking my chest open and then stopping my heart while they lift it from where it sits sweetly unhinged and lopsided in my body and very finely shave away some of the excess muscle that has built up around the wall of my heart as well as some unfriendly scar tissue that has lingered since my last surgery years ago. Granted there is no accidental slip that nicks my ugly gargantuan heart and renders me as good as dead, once this first part is finished the other surgeon will need to be deft and very quick to place this ventricular assisting piece in the valve that has all but given up on functioning altogether and do so in the time remaining before the time limit for my heart being essentially unplugged from by body is up, which would also feasibly mean my death. Lots of exciting and terrible sounding consequences, am I right?

Well let's bear it in mind that I am just below 30 in age and therefore not duly experienced in the realm of facing down my own mortality via making all necessary legal arrangements and managing my affairs and assets so that, in event of my untimely death, the custody case still doesn't stand a chance of snatching my son away to the sad misfortune of being raised by a man that has stated openly he only has interest in his kids so far as what they can do for him/get for him in terms of benefit and that he would be unwilling to be hypocritical and never deter his children from drugs and a lifestyle of extremely questionable moral integrity and hygiene alike. Eugh. But I also have had to make sure there is a DNR in place just in case things go wrong during the operation, my will has also been finalized and notarized, all my savings and financial/material assets have been squared away to come into my child's inheritance when he is of age and, most importantly, a document that states clear and direct instructions for him to be placed in care of my mother or, if she is unwilling or incapable, he will be under custodial order and guardianship of my best friend whom he has always viewed as a pseudo-dad anyway. Legally binding and even in light of the paternity petition this document supersedes parental right by way of the provided evidence I have submitted to prove a lack of parental credibility. That's right, I spent days lowkey stalking and sleuthing about to capture what I needed to show this man for what he actually is and I have precisely zero guilt or shame for doing it; this is my child on the line and that means momma doesn't have to play by the rules of snitches getting stitches or whatever other scary street rules he tosses at me as idle threats. (He's done this routinely for all the years I have known him, and it is somehow both pathetic and hilarious because he knows for a fact that, if I wanted, I could throttle him in less time than it would take for him to form a rational thought between his drug soaked braincells - I was also a person of less than savory character not too long ago and can handle myself very well. But I digress because I am losing my track of thought.

After the surgery I will have so damn much PT and rehab, all of which will be specific to varying parts of my body that will need to be reworked and strengthened. Weeks, months of it really. This surgery is major and hits heavy enough that I will be in the hospital for at least 10-14 days just recovering from it without taking into consideration any number of complications that could pop up. Hell, if they get in there and find a situation worse than they currently have an understanding of in the limited capacity of cardiology tech can provide of such a gnarled beastly heart and realize they can't really do anything with it after all, I'll be added to the transplant list. I think this is more daunting to consider than the surgery, honestly.

In that way that doctors have about them, I was "comforted" by being informed that this was an inevitability and I would have been faced with this in a matter of years - less than a handful actually - but the way COVID-19 chewed through me sped it up. I'm sure my years of substance issues were also very helpful in this endeavor, but either way I still am unsure whether I feel better knowing this or not? Mostly I think I feel conflicted and hopeful tempered with the caution of life being super shady in the ways it has often brought me to the doorsteps of dying in situations that seem like odd chance. I also am gifted with being so capable in jinxing myself that I brought myself to COVID-19 ("The way life is going I'll probably square up with Rona next week or some bullshit." Positive test flagged within the following week) and also into labor ("Watch me go into labor on Labor Day since that would be the sort of universal pun that would strike my bad penny having ass." Indeed hatched my youngling on Labor Day of that year) by saying some things within the scope of my bad humor that instantly manifested as reality so I'm not taking any risks here lol.

The gist is that life is really stirring up the winds over here and so I haven't been online and posting anything that would make my blog valid in a fat minute. I do apologize for this and also for the fact that this post took me nearly a week to type up, but when things calm a little I will be back in full. For the time being I will be sporadic and do what I can when I can!

Thanks to anyone that read this mess all the way here! And a big thank you to all of you still supporting me!

#racks chats #entirely too long and too personal

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Ecstasy [Prologue]

Monologue

By the time I was finally released from the punishment room,

I had made two more comrades,

aside from Kou.

One smart and dependable guy,

and another fellow who’s kinda creepy and always covered in scars,

but somehow I can’t bring myself to ignore him.

It felt somewhat different from my relationship with Boss and the others,

but strangely enough,

I genuinely thought of these dudes as my companions.

I’m sure it’s because we all had the same goal.

The four of us gathered together,

and came up with a plan to escape this Hell.

And one evening,

we finally made up our minds.

Bear: When are we putting this plan into action?

Ruki: Tomorrow evening. We won’t take any luggage with us. Leave everything behind. Understood?

Kou: Yeah!

Bear: Roger.

Azusa: If you guys…say so…

Bear: ( I don’t know if my luck is good or bad, but I survived till now. )

( Boss, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll take your dream upon me instead. )

( I’ll change this country, so please wait just a little longer. )

( ...To fulfill said dream, I’ll definitely escape this place. )

( Don’t worry. Right now, I have comrades who are just about as reliable as you guys were. )

( I’m sure...It’ll go well. )

*TIMESKIP*

Bear: ( ...In just a few more hours, the night will fall. )

( We can’t get our timing wrong. We won’t get a second chance if our plan is exposed. ...We only get one shot. )

( Right, I should prepare to set the fiーー )

Youngster: ...! Oi, you!

Bear: ( ...Che, did he find out!? )

Youngster: I knew it! Thank god, you survived!

Bear: ...? Who are you?

Orphan A: It’s me, Leo! I lived in the village next to yours! We often went fishing in the past, remember?

Bear: Leo...?

Orphan A: Well, we were still children, so I guess I can’t blame you for not remembering. We’ve both changed as well. I didn’t recognize you at first glance either.

But I was worried about you this whole time. After what happened to your village...Your home was burnt to the ground as well.

Bear: Burnt...?

( What’s this? It rings a bell... )

( ...Right! That dream! When Boss had only just picked me up, I would often have dreams about fires! )

( Don’t tell me, this is a guy I knew in the past I can’t recall...!? )

Say, Leo! There’s something I want to asーー!

*THUD*

Orphan A: Guah...!?

*Thud*

Bear: ...!? Oi!

Orphan A: ...Uu...

Bear: Fuck...What do you think you’re doing, bastard!?

Gang Boss: Excuse me? ...Isn’t that my line? Right, Bear?

Bear: ...Che, look who’s back. You’ve made your return earlier than I expected.

Gang Boss: Thanks to you, yeah. (1)

Bear: What do you want now? Have you come to get beaten to pulp?

Gang Boss: Yeah, exactly. Howeverーー

You are the one who’ll end up beaten and bruised!

Bear: ...You’ve gathered some comrades because you know you can’t win by yourself? Whether you bring nobody or a whole gang, the end result won’t change.

Gang Boss: ...Per usual, you know how to run your mouth.

Anyway, your prolonged life ends right here. It’s been quite a while since your Boss died, but time has finally come.

Bear: You piece of shit...Why today out of all days!? You’ve got shit timing.

Gang Boss: Enough talking! Your beloved Boss is waiting for you in the afterlife!

Bear: Che...!

Kou: ーー Bear!!

Bear: Kou!?

Ruki: We were wondering what was taking you so long, but what are you doing!?

Bear: Don’t blame me! They’re the ones who started this!

Kou: I’m pretty sure you take some blame too though.

Ruki: That doesn’t matter! Hurry up and finish your quarrel! If we let this chance slip by, we’re done for!

Bear: Oh, I’m well...aware!

*THUD*

Ruki: In that case, we’ll use this commotion to our advantage. Kou, you light the fire instead!

Kou: Roger!

Ruki: I’ll lure in the guards from one side. You guys make as much of a fuss as you can! However, make sure they don’t get the upper hand on you!

When I give you the signal, we’ll dash through the gate at once! Understood!?

Bear: Piece of cake!

Azusa: Can I be the one getting punched...?

Bear: That’s no option! We’re gonna be the ones doing the punching! ーー Let’s go!!

Monologue

ーー In the end, the plan we spent days setting up,

did not go as planned.

However, luck was on our side,

and we succeeded,

at making our escape from that Hellhole.

ーー Spread out in front of my eyes once outside,

was an almost transluscent blue sky.

Seems like it is sunny out today.

It has been a while since I gazed up at the sky.

Perhaps that is why, the usual blue sky and white clouds,

seemed extremely beautiful for some reason.

I couldn’t help but think,

that the world is beautiful.

We may have escaped prison,

but the world we would have to live in now,

is most definitely rotten.

I will change this country, change the world.

For that reason, I desperately kept on running.

Regardless, the clear blue skies,

were so beautiful, every time I raised my head,

I somehow grew emotional.

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the living room

Ruki: How have things been going as of late?

Yuma: ...No change, really.

Ruki: You’ve been sucking her blood, no? Have you not been experiencing any signs? Of Adam?

Yuma: ...Don’t think so? Not sure tho.

Ruki: ...Yuma.

Yuma: Shut up, I know! Stop remindin’ me over and over, it’s annoyin’!

Ruki: ...Are you rushing?

Yuma: ...

Ruki: Rushing will not make you Adam. That is up to Eve’s blood to decide.

Yuma: ...I know that shit.

Ruki: Then don’t rush. Even if you are in a hurry, it will not benefit the situation.

However...I am sure you are aware that things cannot remain like this forever?

Our objective is not to become Adam. It is to return our favor to that man by doing so.

If you continue to not show any signs of awakening, then we’llーー

Yuma: Don’t say that!!

Ruki: ...Judging by your reaction, seems like you have realized as well. Yuma. ...That we are unable of becoming Adam.

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ...Either way, I’m glad you seem to understand at least. Either way, I am not asking you to act upon this right away.

However, as soon as we receive an order from that man, I will take action as well. Do not forget that.

ー Ruki steps away

Yuma: ...Givin’ her to those Sakamaki’s? Don’t be kiddin’ me.

...I will become Adam.

No way I’ll let those damn rich people steal Boss’ dream as well...!

ー The scene shifts to the kitchen

*Chop chop chop*

Yui: ( ...There we go. Now I just have to put all the ingredients inside and let it simmer. )

( Ah, right. I’ll add the cabbage we got from Yuma-kun’s garden the other daーー )

*Rustle*

ー The screen suddenly fades to black

Yui: Eh!?

( W-What!? Things suddenly went dark...Hold on, somebody is covering my eyes!? )

Yuma: Keep still.

Yui: That voice, Yuma-kuーーNn!

( He covered my mouth as well...! )

ー Yuma bites her

Yuma: Hah...Nn...

Yui: Ah, ow...!

( W-Why did he suddenly bite me...!? )

Yuma: Nn...Nn...!

Haah...This side’s up next...Don’t ya dare tense up.

Yui: ( N-No...What is he doing!? I can’t tell since I can’t see a thing!. ...I’m scared...! )

Nn, nnnn...!

Yuma: ...Che, you’re so noisy. But it’s no use. Stay like that.

A humans’ remainin’ senses grow more sensitive when one is lost, right?

So by taking yer vision like this, I’ll make ya focus on only my fangs.

I’d love to take yer hearing too but...Nn...

Yui: ...! Nn...!

Yuma: I’m pretty sure it’ll be more effective...If I let ya listen to the sound of me devourin’ ya, mixed in with yer own sounds.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Hah...Hah...!

Yuma: There ya go. I’ll release yer mouth. ...Cry out all ya want.

Come on, concentrate. Focus on only yer ears and body.

My fangs are the only thing you’re allowed to feel.

If ya feel it with yer whole body, ya should figure out that I’m Adam already. Right...!?

*Thud*

Yui: ...Ah...!

Yuma: ...Hurry up...Hurry up and realize, Eve...!

Hurry up and make me Adam...!

Monologue

ーー Ever since that day,

Yuma-kun became more aggressive than ever.

His irritation continued visibly growing,

and all of said frustration was pointed directly,

at my skin.

The bite marks which increased with each passing day,

made me experience his impatience first hand.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) おかげさま or ‘okage sama’ is usually used to thank someone for their help, but in this context, it is obviously meant in a sarcastic way.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Maniac Epilogue ] [ Ecstasy 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumaecstasyprolog

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mallickshah · 3 years

Text

Legit rambles.

Here is what I can say about how Mallick is taking in all of this ; in the most raw possible way since i cannot put this in a drabble, this is a bunch of how he feels + what the many insults he has for the people who have created this situation coughsuselessAce&brainlessbarbarianscoughs

His stance in everything, political and social, is not only for the Resistance, it is also for his family who are and have always been very proud to be clubs. There has never been an ounce of shame given to him growing up, never, not even after Saiyah’s death. So while Mallick holds his own grudges, he doesn’t hold them against Clubs only, he holds them against everyone that is not his family, who treats others the way that his wife was constantly treated, anyone who thinks they’re better than others because their statuses in this city allows them to feel as such. Mallick’s prejudices are not for one sole faction, but all of them.

He holds no loyalty if it is not to his family and the resistance to begin with, even the external factors who fund the resistance’s actions do not merit his loyalty. He only really cares for those who are mistreated and those who want to change things, those who know that things are not okay, the only exception he will take to be shaken from this resolution is his family. Anyone else who dares to act and think like they’re doing something good simply because they have the highest of power and can, can very well go fuck themselves in the most putrid way possible.

This basically means what?

Mallick is angry. Mallick is disappointed. Mallick is going to fight for his family, he is going to fight for the resistance and if he has to take down this selfish Ace off his grand throne to do it, he will. Mallick is collected, may appear calm, but he is brewing the darkest thoughts possible. This isn’t just a mission, this is everything the resistance has been standing for, for so long. These high rankers, this Ace, this utter fucking idiot, who thinks that punishing his people will make things better knows nothing about how to handle a crisis. Obviously, he wants a reaction.

It would have been more than perfect if Kol had just decided to handle what he needed to handle, HIM and the barbarians, simply that. But it seems like this is such a hard concept isn’t it? Of course, it is.

Whenever it comes down to power struggle, there is always this thirst for control, then there is the sentiment that one is better than others and their methods has to be law or else they’re coddling those who do need the mercy. Then there is the idea that to make things better you have to make sure they understand you have power not just over those who need to be reminded so, but even those who do not need the reminder. The innocents paying the price for two hard headed so called leaders knocking their horns against one another, that was absolutely ridiculous.

They were both barbarians and belonged right in the same barrel, they both sounded like two drunkards not sure where they were walking but pretending to have the better route than the other. They should both get a map and get lost in the desert and starve to an eventual more than painfully dry death.

Clubs going down because of the ignorance of its leaders would not be a surprising reality to him, but he’s not going to sit and let it happen. What did their Ace believe would come out of venting his anger and frustration on the people and not just on those who deserved it? Submission? Obedience? Were they children now to an elderly with outdated views that could not see farther than his wrinkled furry ass? Mallick has not been meditating, he has warned his family to do as told and he has also promised them to be safe--those who know of what his role is in the rebellion against the city of Kadeu and its system.

But he was not going to be arms crossed, he was not going to sit and watch them tear down people who only asked to be protected, cared for. Maybe not saved, maybe not in the right way. But this was not how to teach children to fend for themselves. This was torturing them to tend to their own needs. This was traumatizing them into eventual submission and obedience. This was cruel, lacking any real motives aside from the pure self-satisfaction of having things go his way and this Ace was going to pay. It didn’t matter how, or why, or when. He would. As much as HIM and his barbarians would too.

You can say that February 10th made him feel slightly relieved and victorious.

February 11th, left him reeling with boiling rage and an anger towards himself, for still holding some lingering faith for this city. For those who could do right, to do things right.

You can also say that the upcoming days were going to be spent working how to evenly balance out the wrongs that were being committed against his people. Because these were his people, his pride, despite it all and against it all, he’d been raised to love everything that was part of this faction. He will always choose those of lower ranks than higher ranks, but unfortunately, he had to save the whole of them to spare the ones he truly cared for.

Sacrificing some for better gains was a necessary evil.

That is all, thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

#the wounded widow (solo)#this belongs in that tag #don't judge me #i can't put this together in a drabbles #so have this rambling of how mallick feels #angryteddyarc

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1199

America - What is your favorite place to eat? I mean...these days I obviously haven’t been eating out at all, but I used to always enjoy dining at either Yabu (for the food) or La Creperie (for the ambience).

Australia - Do you have any quirks when speaking? I don’t think so; or at least I don’t think I’d be aware of them unless someone points them out to me.

Austria - What kind of person do you wish to be? What do some (or most) of these questions have to do with the countries? Lmao. Anyway, I just want to be remembered as being kind, I guess. I’m not aiming for anything grand.

Belarus - Is there anyone you love? I’d do anything for my friends, close or otherwise.

Belgium - What do you think of your siblings? I like my sister; I care about her. I don’t really think much of my brother.

Botswana - Do you like to sing? Why or why not? Yeah, but I only do it for myself. I never sing in front of others; I don’t think I’m that good.

Bulgaria - Who do you consider close to you? My two best friends and everyone in my college friend group.

Cameroon - Describe your culture. Folktales, hundreds of languages, more than just adobo and balut.

Canada - Favorite wintertime activity? We don’t have winter.

China - What was the best moment of your life? I don’t think I’ve had it yet; but so far the moments that are in the running for ‘best’ are my Paramore concert in 2018 and the day I found out I passed UP.

Cuba - What sort of grudges do you hold if any? I haven’t talked to Marielle since the backstabbing incident in 5th grade, and I pretty much don’t talk to my uncle (unless we’re at a family gathering and I have to greet him for show) for all his past failures.

Cyprus - What hands-on activities do you like (drawing, carving, building, etc.)? Embroidery! which I haven’t done in a long while but I’m definitely still into it.

Denmark - Do you wish for something of your past? I wish I had more time with my relatives who died from Covid. Even a proper goodbye and a big, long hug from each of them would’ve sufficed.

Egypt - Do you stand up for what you believe in? How? Sure. I speak up about it, educate others when I can, and raise awareness or reiterate my stance about certain issues by sharing posts on social media.

England - Are you controlling? Depends on what context you’re talking about, because control can mean many different things. I’m a control freak when it comes to my work tasks and I know that can drive some people mad, especially those who prefer working independently.

Estonia - Do you think people often misunderstand you? I think I’m pretty easy to read.

Finland - What do you prefer, kindness, sternness, or apathy? In general, kindness; but I also don’t have any clue to what context these words pertain.

France - How do you show love for those you care for? I like messaging them about things I see that remind me of them. I will also buy them small gifts from time to time, usually food that I know they like.

Germania - What is the hardest thing you have ever had to do? Breaking up with Gabie, and accepting the said breakup. Both were equally difficult things to overcome and I’m just happy to be out of that part of my life.

Germany - Do you have a hard time forgiving yourself? Yes. It takes me a while, if at all.

Ghana - What is our favorite sport? You mean mine? I like pro wrestling, if that counts.

Greece - Do you let others help you when in need? I do, but I have a hard time asking for help. < Yeah. I will accept help when I finally acknowledge that I need it; but getting to the acknowledgment part can take me a while.

Hungary - Who is the person you trust most? Either of my best friends.

Hutt River - What is the most memorable dream or nightmare you have had? Back when I was at a low point I used to have recurring dreams of my girlfriend at the time dying. It sucks for the fact that my most unforgettable dreams are nightmares and for the fact that they all involve her, lol.

Hong Kong - Do you fear death? Not really. I fear dying in a way that I wouldn’t want to experience, but I don’t fear the actual concept of death.

Iceland - Do you hide your real personality? Why? I hide some parts from people I don’t know all that well or I’m not that close with; like I obviously wouldn’t have crackhead vibes with my clients at work lol. But outside of that I pretty much act the same way around everyone.

India - How important is family to you? Quite, but it’s not my be-all and end-all.

Japan - Tell us a secret about yourself. I don’t really have any. I share everything on this blog, anyway.

Kenya - What is your favorite wild animal? Elephants.

Korea - What is one thing you accomplished by yourself? Shooting my shot and landing an internship, and eventually a permanent job, at a company I had no connections with, all while I was heavily depressed and wasn’t really doing anything else to take care of myself.

Kugelmugel - Is there anyone you have a love-hate relationship with? My mom and I bicker all the time, but she is my mom.

Latvia - Do you believe you are brave? I guess so.

Ladonia - What is the internet site you visit most often? I’d say either Twitter or Facebook.

Liechtenstein - How do people underestimate you most often? I don’t know if I can answer this; people usually don’t.

Lithuania - Do you desire power? No. That implies being in the spotlight, which I don’t crave at all.

Macau - What is your favorite festival or celebration? Christmas, only for the huge amount of food I get to freely eat.

Molossia - Do you consider yourself strong? Emotionally, yeah. Also what is Molossia?

Monaco - Do you think you are a lucky person? Not a big believer of luck.

New Zealand - Would you rather be an elf, dwarf, Hobbit, or wizard? None of these.

North Italy - What is your least favorite part of your personality? There are some parts to my sensitivity that I don’t really like, like my tendency to overthink remarks that were actually meant to be harmless.

Norway - What was the most disappointing time in your life? All that time I spent being hung up on Gab and desperately talking to her post-breakup, mostly because of how much I neglected myself then. She was working a night shift then and I remember keeping on waking up at like 1 AM and the first thing on my mind always being to message her and UGH it’s just so embarassing to think about now.

Netherlands - Most generous thing someone has done for you? That one time Andi half-walked and half-took a trike back to UP at 11 PM after already having gotten home, just to retrieve something I forgot to bring home and was having a breakdown about. It was really embarassing and they bring it up every once in a while to tease me, but we have a good laugh about it now.

Poland - Hardest thing you have gone through? The breakup and deaths in the family.

Prussia - Would you prefer to live forever or die alone? Live forever I guess, because I have serious FOMO HAHAHA

Roman Empire - How would you like to be remembered? Like what I said at the start of this survey, just as someone who had been kind.

Romania - What is something you are very ashamed of? I don’t think there is anything.

Russia - Have you ever suffered from low self esteem? Do you still? I used to. Not really anymore. I’m liking myself more these days.

Sealand - Who is your best friend? Angela and Andi.

Seborga - What is your favorite beverage? Water or coffee.

Seychelles - How do you handle people being rude to you? Be mean back, but in a passive-aggressive way.

South Italy - What is your favorite part of your personality? I like that I’m generous and that I can remember a lot of different small details about everyone.

Spain - What would you tell to the person or people you hurt most if you had a second chance? That she was right, I ended up being happier without her; and that I hope she can finally sleep well knowing she was right, considering our whole relationship was pretty much built on her wanting to be right about everything.

Sweden - Are you a leader, follower, or independent? Follower.

Switzerland - Would you consider yourself evil, good, or neutral? Chaotic neutral.

Thailand - How good is your poker face? I don’t even understand poker.

Tibet - What do you value most? Friendships, and my happiness.

Taiwan - What do you think of the people or person who raised you? Grateful.

Turkey - Would you ever want children? That would be nice, in a few years.

Uganda - How would you like others to see you? I answered this question like twice already. It still applies hahaha.

Ukraine - What is one thing that has made you stronger in life? The difficulties I was able to overcome.

Vietnam - What is something you are proud of about yourself? ^ Those.

Wy - What kind of art do you like? Paintings and films.

Zimbabwe - Who is your favorite character from any folklore? I don’t like folktales.

#survey #surveys

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write-like-you-mean-it · 4 years

Text

A Hunter’s Prey: A Feeling Worse than Death

Killua looked at the needle with a smug look on his face. He tossed the small, bloody pin towards me. He must’ve expected me to catch it, but I let it fall into the grass. “Illumi is a manipulator and incapable of loving anyone. He is dad’s pawn. The only reason he likes me is because I am to be the heir.”

“I-I don’t understand,” I mutter while looking between the two boys. “What does this mean?”

Killua’s attitude changed. He seemed to finally understand my confusion. Killua took a deep sigh as the realization of how far in denial I was. “Come on, you can’t be that stupid. You must’ve seen Illumi’s needles before. His Nen type is manipulation. He uses needles infused with Nen to manipulate people into doing things for him.”

“Illumi would never-” I start.

“Yes, he would,” interrupts Killua. “You’re stupid or suck in denial if you believe he would never do this. He did it to me, his own brother who he loves the most. He does it to people regularly. Once you switch into assassin mode, you don’t care about anyone else. You’re only focused on your target. I should know.”

“Killua,” said Gon while putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. A quiet sign to calm down.

“No, Gon,” replied Killua while moving his hand away and walking towards me. “I already warned her at the mansion that Illumi doesn’t care for her. It’s time she gets it through her skull that helping out Illumi isn’t good. He doesn’t care for her.” Killua went and picked up the needle and put it in my hand. “Once you see Illumi, give it back to him.”

A few tears ran down my face as Killua’s words started to register. “I…” words refused to come out. “I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know exactly who I was apologizing to. Myself? Killua? Gon? None of those seem right. Gon looked between Killua and myself. He seemed as lost as I did.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? For what?” says Killua. “I tried to warn you. You should’ve ran when I told you. It would’ve saved you a lot of hurt.”

I looked down at the needle that he’d put into my hand. It looked exactly like the ones I’d play with when I was stuck in Illumi’s room. It was Illumi’s. I wiped away a few tears from my eyes. I looked down at my hand now covered in smeared blood.

“Y/N,” said Gon, finally finding a way to join the conversation. “I can go and get a first aid kit. I’ll be right back.” Killua and I watched as the child ran inside his own house and shut the front door.

“Killua, I-I didn’t know. I should have never come to find you. I’m sorry for putting you and Alluka in danger.”

Killua seemed to finally calm down as he looked me up and down. I must look pathetic in his eyes. I, a controlled person, standing with shaky legs, blood dripping from my head, and tears threatening to fall at any moment.

The younger Zoldyck sibling sighed a deep, moanful exhale. “You’re not the only one Illumi has controlled. It took a lot of will power to finally be able to let go. Your mind should come back to you soon enough.”

I nodded along with his statement but there was so much that he didn’t know. So much that had happened between us. Between the letter, ring, and baby, I didn’t know what to believe. Too many thoughts wrapped around my brain as I questioned the last year of my life. I’d been so blind sided by manipulation that I hadn’t noticed my world had stopped. I hadn’t questioned a lot related to my life. I’d accepted Illumi’s love without hesitation because I thought he really did love me. Now, I know it was an act. How much of our relationship was a lie? I became too afraid of that question.

Instead of living with the thought of the future Zoldyck still inside my womb, I turned my attention to Killua. “I can see why your brother likes you so much. There’s so many good qualities that he never had.”

My comment didn’t phase the white-haired boy. “I know.” At this point, the door opened to reveal Gon carrying a first aid kit in his hand. He had me sit down while taking care of the wound on my head. Killua gave me a nod before going inside the house.

“I’m sorry,” Gon said while touching a particularly tender spot near where Killua’s hand penetrated only moments before my reality shifted. His apology wasn’t just from the touch. I could tell that these emotions were too much for him. Gon was still a child.

“It’s alright,” I said. I felt a quick buzz in my back pocket. I pulled out my phone to check the message on the screen. Illumi’s name made my heart fall deep within the void in my stomach. It sloshed around enough that I felt like puking.

“Who is it?” questioned Gon as he finished my wrapping.

“Illumi,” I said with a dry mouth. “He’s home and wants me to meet him.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure.” I put my phone back into my pocket. “I’ll come up with it later. I don’t need to bother you with my own drama. You’ve been very kind to me.”

Gon too his hand off of my head only to sit next to me. “Why do I get the feeling that this is a goodbye?”

A small smile crossed my face as we both knew the truth. “I hope you get your Nen back,” I reply.

Gon’s face mirrored mine. This last month became a blessing in disguise. I came to see him with the same manipulative tactic as Illumi only to find how much I cared for this child. A month, in the grandness of time, is so small; however, I learned to be a better person through Gon. His appreciation for Killua, discussion about Kite, his father, and friends and talks over dinner made me realize how I would like to raise my child. I’d want someone as kind and strong as him.

“I hope everything with Illumi goes well.”

“Gon, Aunt Mito has finished dinner,” called Killua. We turn to look at the door. Gon stands up and runs towards his friend.

“Y/n,” said Killua. “Be careful. You can still run away. It’s what I’ve been doing and it’s been nice.”

“I wish I could Killua but there’s so much that you don’t know. It was nice to meet you too. Take care of your sister and Gon. Hopefully I’ll see you on better terms.”

Killua didn’t respond but gave a head nod of acknowledgement. It was a sign of mutual respect between two people who’d been hurt by Illumi. I waited until the door shut before finally letting tears fall. “I hope you’re able to see your niece or nephew.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the walk back to the hotel, Illumi texted me two more times. One message stating the place I was to meet him and where and the last one asking why I hadn’t responded. Each text was like a punch to my soul. The pit in my stomach began to feel heavier with each passing thought.

As I entered my room, there came one final text. All it read was ‘you’ll be here tomorrow.’ Illumi was always commanding in texts. Before, I’d assumed it was a harsh upbringing which made him a terrible and demanding texter. I don’t see it that way anymore. I set the phone on the side table while I crawled into bed.

The old comforter did little to provide me with comfort. I wrapped the blanket so hard around my body that I could feel it strangling the love from deep within my heart. Only here, did I cry. I cried, sobbed, thrashed, yelled, and cried some more as emotions wracked my frame. Illumi wasn’t the person I thought he was. Instead of a prisoner, I was engaged to the guard. I was carrying the child of a person that couldn't understand love.

My body became a shaking mess after I’d cried out all the water. My phone buzzed a few more times as Illumi’s messages kept getting more desperate. One begging for a confirmation of the time tomorrow to meet. The last one was even more demanding by stating that he knew I’d read his messages but hadn’t responded. I shouldn’t have even checked them to begin with.

As I placed my phone down once again, I saw his note he gave to me. His writing even gave away the idea he could manipulate people. He wanted me to use it on anyone that would hurt me. Little did I know that it would be him who hurt me the most.

I decided to take a few more hours until I would respond. I had to gather my thoughts on what I wanted to say when I met with him. The floating questions buzzed around my head like a swarming nest of flies. Why did he do it? Did he think I couldn’t love him? Was he ever going to tell me? Do I actually love him? Do I even care for him?

I hadn't noticed I was rubbing my belly until I looked down at the growing stomach. It still looked the same as before but this time, I knew there was something different. I was carrying a monster’s child. I would be raising this monster’s child. More desperate tears ran down my face as the buzzing from my phone grew louder and louder in my head.

I cried until I could feel the puffiness of my eyes and tear streaks down my face. It wasn’t a pretty cry. It was a cry only found within those who have been ruined. I ruined my own life by falling in love with a monster.

The crimson sun pierced through the blinds. I hadn’t realized I fell asleep until the bird tweeted and the sun awoke me. It was early morning when I finally woke up from death. My head felt dizzy and the remnants of tears had turned my skin numb. I finally decided it was time to message back Illumi.

Illumi had left message after message. All of them were a mixture of demands. Some were soft ones that pleaded with me to text him back while some were angry messages. There were so many messages that it had become overwhelming to read them all. The last message was at two in the morning. All it read was ‘please respond, Y/N.’

That message seemed to be softer than the rest. A broken Illumi begging for a response from me. My fingers typed out a quick message that asked where and when he would like to meet. His response was almost immediate. ‘Meet me at York New in your old apartment. I’ll be waiting.’

My hands shook as I packed my bags. Part of me wanted to say goodbye to the close friend I’d gained. The smarter part knew that they were already gone. Those children didn’t seem like the type to stay in one place.

The travel from Whale Island to the airport seemed like a death sentence. I felt like I was going to my death. My hands would absentmindedly play with the small bag of stuff Illumi had given to me. My mind wandered to the stuff inside the bag all bought by Illumi. Even far away, he was in control of what I wore, my finances, and almost all parts of my mind. I became so consumed with how excited he’d be once he found out about my new Nen ability. Each grueling day was to prove I was worthy of his time. I should have been asking if he was worth mine.

At the airport, I bought a small bag. I placed the positive test and ring inside the decorative bag. To the normal looking person, it would look like a present. To me, it was a coffin where my heart went to die. When I bought the bag, I had made up my mind. I shoved the bag into my backpack while buying one final ticket to York New.

This plane ride was worse. The sky felt heavy. The people seemed more like strangers. Even the air had added density. It became hard to breathe as the plane landed on the air strip. Within an hour, I’d be face to face with the person who ruined my life.

While walking through the York New airport, a few people seemed to give me a harsh glance as if I'd done something wrong. Maybe they knew where I was headed. Did they take pity on a dead girl walking? Why should they?

My hands shook as I held onto the doorknob of my old apartment. In my past life, there would be no hesitation to come back here. It was my safe space in the hustle of the busy streets. Today, I felt as unsafe as if I were to share a jail with a murderer.

I didn’t know how I expected Illumi to be when he finally arrived back. One side of me thought he would have already known about my revelation. What I didn’t expect was for him to be lounging on my couch. His legs were long enough that they were bumping against my coffee table. His eyes were pacing back and forth between the phone and a random chick flick movie on the screen. He looked weirdly domestic.

Illumi’s appearance hadn’t changed much. He still had the long, silky hair and pale face. However, I saw him change when he looked at me. The furrowed brow became a mixture of diluted emotions. Illumi immediately stood up. “Y/n,” he said. “What happened?”

His concern seemed weirdly out of place for the Illumi I’d known. My bandage. It was still there from when Gon had wrapped my head. No wonder I had gotten strange looks from passersby. “Nothing.” My voice shook as I spoke. My fidgeting hand held up the needle that had been lodged into my head. “Would you mind explaining this?”

Illumi’s face didn’t change. He only took a step back from me and stood a little taller. “You must’ve talked with Killua.”

“I won’t tell you if I did or didn’t. I want answers, Illumi.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes. Tell me everything from when you placed the pin in my head to now.”

Illumi didn’t respond at first. He decided to walk towards me, pick up the pin, and go sit back down on the couch. The love confession of two random characters played in the background as Illumi stayed silent. I, apprehensively, took a seat in the armchair catty corner to him.

His soulless eyes were still hyper focused on the pin in his hand. “I should have sent you home. Not on this mission.”

“You’re not answering what I want. I can still leave. You’re lucky I returned at all.”

“I was beginning to guess that this was why you weren’t returning my messages even after looking at them. The only three people who knew about this trick were my father, Hisoka, and Killua. Now it seems I have a fourth.”

“When did you start controlling me?”

“The night at the bar. I had to have you as my own. You were too busy with other men to even notice me watching you.”

My mind went back to that night. I could remember more details than ever. “I was never drunk. Was I?”

Illumi, after a thorough examination of his work, placed the pin down. “Yes you were.”

“Then no one put anything in my drink that night.”

“That’s wrong too. You wouldn’t have gone with me if I hadn’t.”

I felt my heart drop. Illumi had drugged me that night. “Y-you did this?”

“You were out for a few days. I placed the pin in while you were taken to my house. Mother and father didn’t suspect a thing.”

“You drugged me?” I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around how vicious and volatile Illumi had been. It made my stomach churn the empty contents. I doubt I’d be able to eat for weeks.

“Would you have fallen in love with me otherwise? An assassin who is too involved with family matters. I did what I had to.”

“No,” I said. “You made my choice for me. I wanted to leave. You forced me into a life that I didn’t want. You made me lose everything.” My emotions ran high as I finally stood up from my chair. “Illumi, you made me lose everything.”

“You gained so much more with me. Your ability to use Nen, a loving family, a loving significant other who will do anything for you. Isn’t that what all girls want?”

I couldn’t believe what was coming from his mouth. “No. That is not what I want. I had a stable job, friends, a life. You took it away from me. You made me watch my friends die. You made me fall in love with you. You made me into a monster just like yourself.”

“I am not a monster.”

“Yes you are. Who controls a person they love?”

“A lot of people.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You still believe you’re right with doing this? What else haven’t you been telling me? Did you actually leave to go somewhere else? What else have you been lying to me about?”

“Nothing. I was really gone. Now how about you calm down and we can have a rational discussion.”

I let out the air in my lungs. I could see red encircling my vision. “I don’t have rational discussions with people I loath.”

Illumi cocked his head as he seemed confused. “But you still love me.”

“No. I detest what you did. You used me. I didn’t consent to anything. My whole year was a lie. The only people that were kind to me was the Phantom Troupe without you.”

I couldn’t tell if Illumi was hurt or disinterested in my words. His lack of facial expressions made me angry. He was too calm for his own good. “Who's to say that once you get bored of me, you won’t kill me? I’m nothing more than a breeding machine to keep up the Zoldyck name. I meant nothing to you.”

“I thought we were to be truthful here.”

“I am.” I reached within my bag and produced the present bag I bought at the airport. “Good thing you already knocked me up so you can get rid of me faster.” I chucked the present at him. He easily dodged but the contents flew from the bag. The ring and pregnancy test clattered to the ground.

Illumi didn’t seem to connect what was given to him. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes. And I’m leaving you.”

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#illumi #HunterXHunter #hxh #illumi x reader #a hunter's prey #chapter 28

42 notes · View notes

chillyravenart · 4 years

Note

Thoughts on Seara Targaryen?

I've mentioned this briefly here but let me add a few more of my thoughts.

I feel like Saera is treated like some faultless feminist icon in the fandom (how surprising lmao) but let's be absolutely real here: she was a spoilt, headstrong princess who was never going to cave into societal/parental pressure. I’m personally not a fan at all but I want to list a few things about her personality and upbringing that may be of some use in understanding her better. Forgive my rambling in advance!

Princess Saera, three years younger, was a trial from the very start; tempestuous, demanding, disobedient. The first word she spoke was no, and she said it often and loudly. She refused to be weaned until past the age of four. Even as she ran about the castle, talking more than her siblings Vaegon and Daella combined, she wanted her mother’s milk, and raged and screamed whenever the queen dismissed another wetnurse. “Seven save us,” Alysanne whispered to the king one night, “when I look at her I see Aerea.”

Not to forget, George loves hitting characters where it hurts and that's through their children. And George went in particularly hard with Jaehaerys and Alysanne's children. I absolutely adore the older bunch, Aemon, Baelon, Alyssa... but the younger bunch didn’t exactly speak to me the same way. I suppose with so many children, it was natural to have a few bad eggs, and Saera was one of them. Jaehaerys spoilt her as child and she grew up to be very bright but also had a cruel streak too.

... and long before she was half-grown, Saera had learned the art of getting anything she wanted from her father: a kitten, a hound, a pony, a hawk, a horse (Jaehaerys did draw a firm line at the elephant). Queen Alysanne was far less gullible, however, and Septon Barth tells us that Saera’s sisters all misliked her to various degrees.

The border between innocent pranks, wanton mischief, and acts of malice is not always discerned by one so young, but there can be no doubt that the princess crossed it freely.

Septon Barth also commented on Saera’s disposition, and her hunger for the attention her older siblings received:

“She is the king’s daughter, and well aware of it. Servants see to her every need, though not always as quickly as she might like... If she were the king’s firstborn, or better still his only child, she would be well content. Instead she finds herself the ninthborn, with six living siblings who are older than her and even more adored.”

Saera pranked her sister Daella with cats and bees, dyed the KG cloaks pink, and would show up drunk to the sept for prayers. And since Saera had every whim granted to her, it's natural that she would want more from the world and succeeded in carving out her own kingdom across the Narrow Sea. I definitely don't think she would have been content with living a normal life in Westeros, married to some lord and running his house.

“She wants what she wants and she wants it now,” Grand Maester Elysar wrote of the princess in 69 AC, when she was only two. “Seven save us all when she is older. The Dragonkeepers had best lock up the dragons.” He had no notion how prophetic those words would be.

At fourteen, she told the king she meant to marry the Prince of Dorne, or perhaps the King Beyond the Wall, so she could be a queen “like Mother.”

By fifteen, Saera had other ideas however.

Why dream of distant monarchs when she could have as many squires, knights, and likely lords as she desired? Dozens danced attendance on her, but three soon emerged as favorites. Jonah Mooton was the heir to Maidenpool, Red Roy Connington was the fifteen-year-old Lord of Griffin’s Roost, and Braxton Beesbury, called Stinger, was a nineteen-year-old knight, the finest lance in the Reach...

And initially it was Queen Alysanne who voiced her dismay regarding Saera’s behaviour with her newly acquired suitors. “Saera is clever, but not wise” and she also criticised her choice of female companions as well as Beesbury/Stinger who was rumoured to have sired a bastard. However Jaehaerys brushed it off unconcerned that she would get up to any mischief at court with so many watching eyes. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

Then came the incident at the Blue Pearl with Tom Turnip, and her three favourite lordlings (including Stinger who later fought Jaehaerys in his trial by combat) which made matters worse. I highly doubt any other noble lord would have been ok with his daughter cavorting with household knights in a brothel- least of all a KING. When questioned about her actions, Saera really didn’t do herself any favours:

I could marry all three of them, why not? Why should I have just one husband? The Conqueror had two wives, and Maegor had six or eight.” She had gone too far. Jaehaerys rose to his feet and descended from the Iron Throne, his face a mask of rage. “You would compare yourself to Maegor? Is that who you aspire to be?”

After the horrors Jaehaerys and his siblings had endured under Maegor, it’s no wonder he was so shaken by her blase attitude. And again, Alysanne was able to soften his anger and reconcile him to forgive Saera, but she ran away that very night and tried to steal a dragon which sealed her fate.

Alysanne wept when she heard, for she knew her cause was hopeless. Jaehaerys was hard as stone. “Saera with a dragon,” was all he had to say. “Would she have taken Balerion as well, I wonder?”

One of my favourite aspects of this whole saga was Jaehaerys fighting Stinger for her honour, "This old man," just takes me out every single time. Forty-nine year old Jae, taking out nineteen year old Beesbury just reminds me too much of Daemon vs Aemond - WHY ARE FORTY-NINE YEAR OLD TARG MEN SO BADASS?

I also understand that Saera was a plot device to add filial conflict to Jaehaerys’ reign, after all a successful king doesn’t always make a successful father. Jaehaerys was the quintessential medieval monarch with a kingdom to run and keep in order after a very volatile period and Saera was a royal princess and expected to uphold those standards. As Grand Maester Elysar put it, “He was better with roads than with daughters.” I think Jaehaerys had his flaws for sure, but again, this is asoiaf and I really don’t understand how people expect paternal relationships to be as open and affectionate as they are today- seriously look at how fatherhood has evolved in the last fifty years alone and tell me a medieval king would have been braiding his daughter’s hair and having heart-to-hearts with her. He could have done more to understand her, but then we wouldn’t have this embittered storyline and everything would be hunky-dory. That’s not how GRRM works unfortunately.

I am certain Jaehaerys had loved her as a daughter, and her actions had caused him pain which had hardened his heart at the time. But it is also apparent later on that Jaehaerys was hit hard by this event and also mistook Alic*nt for Saera on his sickbed. I also feel heartbroken for Alysanne who lost so many of her children and felt Saera's loss very acutely too. She also became withdrawn and was clearly shaken by all the losses she had endured.

The years had taken their toll on him, and those who knew him well said that he was never the same after his daughter Saera had disgraced and then abandoned him. He had grown thinner, almost gaunt, and there was more grey than gold in his beard now, and in his hair.

The Old King sometimes mistook her for one of his daughters, calling her by their names; near the end, he grew certain she was his daughter Saera, returned to him from beyond the narrow sea.

Anyway I am glad Saera got to set up her own empire and lifestyle (Hot Girl Saera ™), she is arguably the first Targaryen entrepreneur of sorts too. She is most certainly not the feminist kween this fandom treats her as IMO, raise ya standards! Ultimately I wouldn't say I'm a fan mainly because her character didn’t appeal to me, particularly when I read Fire and Blood. Besides, Saera’s domain lies outside my circle of interest and I'm more concerned with what happens to subsequent characters in Westeros.

Hope that answered your question!

#saera targaryen #asoiaf #fire and blood #jaehaerys i targaryen #anon asks #chillyravenart answers

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