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twstbookclub · 1 month

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Slowly, Surely, Sadly

Summary: Who would've thought one smile could make you like someone? Of all people, you never expected to fall for Riddle—not after his overblot. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce Shenanigans again, Unrequited (maybe not, who knows?) Feelings, Spoilers for Book 1 if yall haven't finished it Word Count: 3, 304 This is my first time writing full-on angst. I already had this plot in mind last April, but this was my only chance to finally write it all down. I hope I did my job, and I'm sorry also not sorry for the feels. I was running on 5 hours of sleep and a hopeless romantic playlist when I wrote this. I hope yall enjoy, though 💕

Whenever you looked at Riddle, the memory of his swollen cheek and tear-brimmed eyes overlapped with his stern expression. Even with the constant lectures and helicopter parenting becoming less frequent, you could never forget his ruthless reign over Heartslabyul. His first impression was that of a tyrannical and merciless ruler, and you’d never forget that.

Yet, you could never forget how he looked like a lost child in a garden of roses when Ace punched him that day.

“Would you like to sample one of our teatime treats, Prefect?”

Riddle’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts. Your eyes darted from your teacup to the housewarden. An expectant yet patient smile curled his lips, which was a stark contrast to his natural frown. Your eyes lingered on the smile on his cherubic face.

“Sure,” you answered, somewhat in a daze. You took a sip of your tea, before your nose scrunched a little. Before Riddle noticed your grimace, you put the teacup down and dropped three sugar cubes in your drink.

You didn’t miss the amused twitch of Riddle’s lips from the corner of your eyes. This action would have earned you a reprimand and a lecture on one of hundreds of Heartslabyul’s rules. After his overblot and the incident in the rose garden, Riddle was becoming more lenient.

“You should mind your sugar intake—” Well, he’s still working on the leniency, but he’s trying— “Do you prefer a tart, a cupcake, or a cookie? Maybe you’d like to try a slice of today’s cake?”

You gave Riddle your preferred dessert, then you watched him reach over the table. Dainty, gloved fingers curled around the dish, before he brought it to you. You gave a brief nod and a mumble of thanks, before you took a bite of the treat.

“...!” You quietly moaned from the sweet taste that melted on your tongue. With a hand on your cheek, you slowly chewed to savor the sugar that graced your tastebuds. Your eyes seemed to sparkle as you dug into more of the dessert.

“It’s so good!”

You didn’t miss the satisfied smile on Riddle’s face, still cherubic and radiant. Amidst the chatter and raucous noise in this week’s Unbirthday party, you somehow heard the hint of pride in the red-haired sophomore’s words.

“Of course, that’s to be expected. Trey’s baking skills are the best in Heartslabyul—possibly in the entirety of Night Raven College.” Riddle paused, before softly adding, “I prefer his strawberry tarts, though. It’s a shame he couldn’t make any for today.”

The wistfulness in that tone of his made you pause. As Riddle took his own sip of tea, you couldn’t look away from him.

One afternoon, you marched through the silent corridors of the arcane academy. Heavy footfalls echoed in your ears, as if to mock you. The reminder of why you were wandering the halls alone made you frown.

“Where the hell are you, Grim?” You mumbled, head turning left and right, as you stomped. All the doors were closed shut, and voices could be heard through them. You doubt this area had an empty classroom at the moment.

Professor Crewel’s scowl and his whip flashed in your mind. As much as you loved Grim and his snark, you’d rather not face the wrath of the dog-loving professor. Brows furrowing, you grumbled again, “If he skips alchemy lessons again, I’m going to wring his neck and—”

“Prefect?” The gentle voice forced you to a halt, and you blinked at Heartslabyul’s warden in front of you. Riddle looked at you with a raised brow, before he crossed his arms and tapped his heel on the floor.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you, but…” He paused, eyes roaming your face. “You don’t seem to be in a good mood, and your class is about to start. I passed by Ace and Deuce heading towards Professor Crewel’s classroom earlier.”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and sighed. You were already on good terms with the housewarden, and you’d rather not get collared for misdirecting your annoyance.

“Hi Riddle,” you greeted with a small, strained smile to be polite. “I’m actually looking for Grim. I lost him in the crowd during the lunch rush, and well…”

You tried so hard not to curse the lovable, annoying puffball. Another heavy sigh left your lips with a shake of your head. The strained smile became an apologetic one. Riddle stared at you, most likely scrutinizing something about you. Maybe he was judging you for letting Grim get away.

“I shouldn’t be keeping you here. It’s nice to see you, though—”

“Hold on,” Riddle stepped closer and reached for your tie, “your tie is crooked. Let me fix it for you.”

You held your breath, biting your tongue to stifle any surprised noises. The red-haired sophomore was too focused on fixing your tie to notice your reaction. His knuckles brushed your chest as he tightened the knot, and you tensed. He didn’t even ask for permission. He just took initiative, and it reminded you of a doting yet strict mother for some reason.

“You should be more conscious of your appearance,” Riddle reminded kindly while smoothing the creases of your uniform coat. He stepped back and seemed satisfied with his intervention. His lips stretched into a satisfied smile again, and you couldn’t look away.

“Now, off you go. Professor Crewel isn’t forgiving when it comes to tardiness.”

“R-right,” you stuttered with a faint warmth on your cheeks. You were tempted to slap yourself for losing composure like this, but you wanted to keep your dignity. Riddle would think you lost your mind if you did.

“Thanks, Riddle.”

His smile softened, yet it grew wider. The sharp and scrutinizing gaze melted into one of appreciation. Your heart skipped a beat. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Something fuzzy and warm filled your chest as you stared at Riddle. Your fingers twitched, as if longing to touch Riddle in some way.

It was ridiculous, but you didn’t dislike the feeling either.

“You’re welcome. If you’ll excuse me, I should be heading to my own class. I wish you luck, Prefect.”

He skirted around you in one, fluid motion. The click of his heels echoed in the empty corridor as you watched him go. His short figure carried a sense of dignity and pride, something that used to terrify and annoy his wards in Heartslabyul.

It used to intimidate you, but you couldn’t look away from him now. Even when Riddle turned a corner and disappeared, you couldn’t stop staring.

Ever since that day, you couldn’t stop noticing these things about Riddle. His entire face brightened, eyes glittering and cheeks flushing pink, when presented with a strawberry tart. Whenever he smiled, his gray irises seemed to hide behind the chub of his cheeks. He always looked red in the face whenever he was embarrassed, but the addition of a scowl and wide eyes showed his anger instead. His voice always raised in pitch, becoming less gentle and more crazed, whenever he became agitated and enraged. He even lost his formality and courteousness at that point: language becoming more crude yet still refined.

One day, while preparing for a game of croquet, you pointed out how happy Riddle seemed when he took care of the hedgehogs. Ace shot you a weird look. Deuce looked perplexed, lost even, when his eyes darted to you.

“Really?” He asked, looking between Riddle crouched on the ground and you who looked surprised. “He doesn’t look any different. How could you tell?”

Brows furrowed in confusion, you told them, “It’s not obvious, but he’s smiling. See? His eyes look brighter when he looked at the hedgehogs, too. Oh, and there’s the fact that he gently pets their heads with a finger. He’s avoiding touching their quills, and he’s trying not to agitate the tiny things.”

There was a long, uneasy stretch of silence that followed your answer. After a moment, Ace’s stunned look shifted into a mischievous grin. Deuce mirrored his expression, and it reminded you of that one time he lost his composure and beat up a pair of upperclassmen.

“Huh, really?” There was an intrigued and knowing tone in the redhead’s voice. Meanwhile, Deuce turned to look at Riddle as if to verify your observation. Although, the ravenette was still grinning, as if he knew something you didn’t.

In that moment, you realized you were screwed—so, so screwed.

Upon seeing your confusion warp into a crestfallen and horrified realization, Deuce clapped a hand on your shoulder with a snicker.

“Looks like the Prefect has a crush,” he teased, but you wanted none of it. Ace followed with an incredulous yet amused, “Really? Housewarden Riddle? Strict and overbearing Housewarden Riddle? Oh, your standards are buried six feet under, Prefect.”

A hand smacked Deuce’s own off your person, and you began to stumble over your words. Both lovable yet annoying idiots laughed it off, while you half-heartedly threatened them with a raised fist.

“Shut up, or I swear to the Seven—!”

Ace and Deuce laughed louder, nearly howling and sniggering in delight. As they clutched their stomachs and you grabbed the collars of their uniforms, Riddle’s confused and curious stare was left unnoticed.

Riddle continued to invite you to their weekly Unbirthday parties as an honorary guest. He still offered you desserts with little to no comment on your sweet tooth. He still fussed over your appearance whenever you two passed each other in the halls. He always gave you a subtle smile, despite his stern demeanor. The more you spent time around the housewarden, the more dread weighed in your stomach.

You couldn’t ignore the flutters of your heart, how it flipped and did cartwheels whenever Riddle treated you kindly. No matter what he did, you always felt like you were floating and walking on clouds.

You still longed to touch him—maybe brush back a stray strand that fell over his forehead. You wanted to know how it felt to hold his hand. Maybe even take a stroll in Heartslabyul’s rose maze with him, hand-in-hand and talking about anything. You wanted to spend teatime alone with him. You wanted to see him smile after taking a bite of a strawberry tart you made for him. You wanted to gaze at the moon and the stars with him in the comfort of Riddle’s dorm room, just sitting together in that window alcove with pillows and blankets.

You wanted to do so much more with Riddle, but the large mirror before you spelled the end of your hopes and dreams.

“Well, Prefect,” Crowley began with a jovial tone, which was a stark contrast to the despair that gripped your heart, “I found a way for you to return to your world. After long, grueling hours of searching for the solution, I fulfilled my promise to you, and I even gathered your friends here for a heartfelt farewell.”

You called bullshit on that, but you still appreciated Crowley’s effort. True to his word, all of the people you befriended surrounded you in the Mirror Chamber. The occasion was treated as a formal one, if their dorm uniforms didn’t make a statement already. Everyone had varying degrees of restrained emotion, as you stood before the mirror that led to your home dimension.

Grim stood behind you with clenched paws and glassy eyes. You spotted Ace and Deuce grinning, but there was a hint of a strain in their smiles. Kalim was close to bursting into tears. Leona stared at you with a neutral look and a hand on his hip, but the harsh dig of his fingers told you otherwise. Azul wore his usual smile, one reserved for business, and Jade had a polite smile as well. Floyd didn’t share the same sentiment. The more capricious Leech brother scowled as if he ate Lilia’s cooking after being promised a tasty meal.

You didn’t dare look at Riddle. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You can’t.

Crowley spread his arms with a self-satisfied smile that both irked and endeared you to him. “Aren’t I a magnanimous and gracious headmaster to do something like this for you?”

He made a show of spinning on his heel and walking towards the doors to the Mirror Chamber. With a flamboyant wave of his hand, he exclaimed, “I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes and well-wishes. However…”

Crowley looked at you from over his shoulder, and your throat tightened at the soft smile that curled his lips.

“It was a pleasure to have you here, Prefect. I would’ve loved for you to stay until graduation, but alas. I wish you all the best once you return home.”

The last thing you saw was a swish of his cape, before a heavy weight nearly toppled you to the ground. Tan, bejeweled arms hugged your waist as a loud bawl harshly rang in the room. You didn’t even need to look to see that it was Kalim blubbering through his tears. Jamil’s alarmed voice echoed in your ears, and that seemed to be everyone’s cue to surround you.

Tearful farewells, wistful wishes, and unfulfilled promises filled the enclosed space. Grim clung to you all this time, all the while mewling and whining about how he’d lose his henchman. Still, he was crying his eyes out. The large mirror was obscured from your sight, as if the unusual group of friends you made during your time here intended this. You couldn’t help but laugh—a bittersweet sound—as everyone tried to get a word in with you. Even Malleus came to say his goodbyes, though he seemed more reserved than usual.

Then the dreaded moment came: Riddle approached you with that same smile, the gentle and subtle one he always graced you with. Everyone who noticed the shift in mood somehow left space for you and the Heartslabyul housewarden to talk. You almost giggled when you overheard Jade scold Floyd for whining about this.

You forced your smile to widen, even if your eyes stung and your throat tightened again. Your voice cracked at the end, but that could be mistaken for holding back tears.

“Hi, Riddle,” you whispered as you felt your throat tighten more, “I guess I’m leaving before I could have another Unbirthday party with all of you. I was so excited to try the macarons, too.”

The gentle smile became forlorn, and it reminded you of that time he lamented over not having strawberry tarts in that one Unbirthday party. A twinge in your heart made your breath hitch, but you hoped Riddle wouldn’t notice.

“It’s a shame, really,” he told you with a falter in his smile. The corners of his lips hitched up, as if that never happened in the first place. “I wanted you to try some tea from the Queendom of Roses as well, but… that may never happen now.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, finding it hard to breathe. The sting in your eyes worsened. Some invisible hand squeezed your heart, as if threatening to puncture the fragile thing with its talons. You maintained your composure as much as you can.

You couldn’t help but admit, “I wish I could have more time with all of you.”

I wish I had more time with you.

“I wish I could watch the third-years graduate. I wish I could see all of us graduate here, even if I don’t have magic.” You chuckled, and you found yourself with loose lips around Riddle.

“I want to have more Unbirthday parties with everyone in Heartslabyul. I want to have lunch with everyone in Mostro Lounge. I want to watch the next interdorm Spelldrive tournament and cheer for your guys. I want to spend Christmas and welcome the New Year with everyone. I want a lot of things, but… Well, I’m going home.”

Riddle’s smile slipped, and you watched him visibly swallow with a subtle frown. Even when he wasn’t smiling, he still had a gentle look on him.

“Who knows, Prefect? Maybe there will come a time when we find a way for you to visit and vice versa.” Riddle sounded so unsure, so hesitant, in his reassurance. Still, you appreciated it.

You ignored how much your heart hurt and your jaw clenched when he said that.

“I hope so.” Chuckling, you kept your arms to yourself as you smiled at Riddle. He was becoming a blur of red, white, and gold. Warm tears already spilled down your cheeks, before you even realized what was happening.

You couldn’t see his reaction, but you raised a hand to wipe away your tears. While the heel of your palm rubbed your cheek, you mumbled, “Sorry. I just…”

A white handkerchief was offered to you, and you took it with murmured gratitude. Your eyes were drawn to the embroidered initials of Riddle’s name on the corner. The cloth felt soft on your skin, and you found some comfort in that.

“Keep it,” Riddle told you with that smile again, “so that you would remember me every time you see it.”

Your mind blanked at his words. Riddle referred to himself rather than everyone in Heartslabyul, even everyone in NRC. Heart fluttering and throat tightening, you resisted the urge to sob. Hope came as a surge of warmth and the weight of dread in your chest.

Not now. Not when I’m leaving.

With a smile, melancholic yet bright, you dabbed away the last of your tears and tucked the handkerchief into your uniform pocket. A burst of courage let you wrap your arms around Riddle in a hug with a whispered, “Thank you. I’m going to miss you—all of you.”

I’m going to miss you more.

Normally, Riddle would be flustered at the sudden gesture of affection. You expected a loud stutter and an indignant scolding, but he simply returned the hug. His face was buried in your shoulder, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

“You’re welcome.” You heard him whisper, followed by a faint sniff. Something warm and wet soaked through the coat and into your shoulder. You hugged Riddle tighter, as if to hide him from the rest of the world at that moment.

Too brief for your liking, Riddle pulled away with that same smile. His eyes appeared to be glassy, reflecting your tearful expression and wobbly grin. Your heart twinged again, and your jaw clenched.

It was that smile that damned you the moment Riddle fixed your tie for the first time.

“I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?” You asked, laughing off your dread and despair. Riddle seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to say something. Your heart stuttered as you watched him open his mouth with reluctance.

Something held him back. He shook his head and merely smiled at you again.

“Of course,” he murmured, eyes hiding behind his cheeks again. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Prefect.”

In that moment, you’d have stolen the stars from the sky if Riddle wanted to make a wish. You’d bake tarts and cakes in the Heartslabyul kitchen, even if it ended in a mess of flour, if he wanted sweets. You’d stay past curfew in his dorm room to stargaze, if he was willing to break the rules just this once. You’d shower him in kisses, hugs, and cuddles if he hesitated to spell out his desire for affection.

You’d stay in Twisted Wonderland if he asked you to.

Swallowing your heartache, you forced a smile—bright and brilliant, putting the sun to shame. Your gaze never left Riddle, while unspoken feelings laid heavy on the tip of your tongue. Reality crushed your daydreams and wishes, reduced to rubble and dust. The next words felt final and absolute.

“Goodbye, Riddle.”

What remained was the handkerchief with his stitched initials in your pocket.

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fandomsandfeminism · 2 years

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So, this is going to be a little meandering and all over the place. But I'm trying to express this...web of thoughts I've been having lately around this issue of queer, and labels, and the way we talk about our history and the way the community conceptualized itself in this very digital age. And it's still kind of half formed, so...let's see.

So. OK.

One thing I see a lot online, especially with people who are just now coming out, is a sort of...overfixation on increasingly niche labels. Im not saying that having a very specific or newer label is bad, to be clear. Labels are rhetorical tools, use what is useful. They help with visibility and discussing specific issues. No issues there.

But watching people quibble over bi vs pan vs omni vs abro or non-binary vs genderqueer vs demigender vs genderfluid vs agender vs xenogender vs bigender vs gnc. Asexual or gray ace or demisexual or queerplatonic. And whether they are a biromantic lesbian demigirl or bisexual greyaromantic genderuid. And it's always just a little exhausting, ya know? Again, if those labels are meaningful and useful, that's great, but I see people *agonizing* over which they "really" are. Like if they pick the wrong word to describe themselves, they are coming out the wrong way, like they are wrong about themselves if they can't find the exact correct word on an FAQ list of lgbt vocabulary.

And how I think that relates to the way people talk about our CURRENT labels as though these labels have always been there and like the people described by these labels now have no common experiences with other labels. Like lesbians and bisexual women have absolutely nothing in common. Like butches and trans men have no shared history. As though trans women and drag queens have always been completely separate and unconnected groups. As though ace folks and nonbinary folks are somehow new to the scene, and not community members who were always here and just didn't have a separate label until more recently.

I *remember* watching the community make the switch from transvestite and transsexual, to differentiating between transsexuals and transgender, to basically just using transgender/trans. Those labels are not stagnant. None of our labels are some ingrained biological unchanging objective truth. Labels are rhetorical shortcuts to summarize this facet of our identity and lives and experiences- but they are just words.

And maybe this connects to the way people get really...weird about historical figures too. Like whether Sappho was a lesbian or bisexual, as though either of those words would have had any meaning to her. About whether Shakespeare was gay or bi, like he would have conceptualized his own identity that way. About what modern label Dr. James Barry would have used for himself if anyone could travel back in time and ask him.

And then I think about why queer feels so much more affirming, so much more a place of strength, than LGBT+. Not that LGBT as a label is bad, and I honestly probably prefer it for allies and outsiders to use. But as a community label- Queer, to me, says that all our experiences are queer experiences. Queer can be many things, but they are all queer. Regardless of how many genders or which specific genders you like, whether you have a romantic and or sexual attraction to whatever collection of genders, whatever thing your gender is doing today- all of it, ALL of it, once you step outside that cis, straight mainstream sexuality and gender norm- is queer. Equally queer.

Lgbt+ feels like we are still keeping all those labels separate, little boxes all lined up next to each other- different but a coalition. And while that isn't bad, I also think it isn't totally true.

[A caveat here, that there are times when more specific labels are very helpful. We don't want any specific kind of queer experience to be overshadowed or erased, and having more specific labels facilitates those discussions. Again, I'm not saying that we should eliminate or erase our more specific labels.]

But I think imagining our community as a collection of wholly separate groups that are just allied together, instead of one group that we are all equally in, can make it far too easy for exclusionists to sneak up and say "well ___ isn't REALLY lgbt. THEY aren't REALLY one of us. ___ dont belong."

If we take all the labels off all the crayons- red and pink and purple and blue and teal and green are not hard and fast divisions. They are artificial distinctions we have made- all of them are light, all of them the rainbow.

Anyway. I just think that, while everyone should use whatever labels bring them joy and are useful for them, we might be better off if more folks were ok with ALSO accepting the vast ambiguity of being queer.

#queer thoughts #queer rambling #maybe Im off here or missing some nuance #but Im bi AND queer #Im bi and genderqueer AND queer #and I think theres strength and beauty in seeing our diverse experience and saying YEAH all of us are in this together

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intersectionalpraxis · 3 months

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I've seen a lot of (usually white) feminists talk about how western/European women should also replicate/do '4B' as well just as Korean women have -without recognizing or understanding the context with which 4B arose.

The current very right-wing South Korean President, Yoon Suk Yeol, is very much responsible for continuing to put the health, well-being, as well as safety of Korean women at risk. Whether it be through him vehemently stating gender discrimination no longer exists to attempting to abolish the ONLY organizing that focuses on supporting women -the Ministry of Gender Equality and Family.

He has also only added a handful of women into his cabinet AFTER he was criticized for not having done so in the first place. When he was elected back in 2022, my solidarity has and will always remain with women and folks who experience marginalization in South Korea, such as those in the LGBTQIA+ and disability community, among many. I will, nor should NO ONE ever forget how this man campaigned/how he was elected in mass by misogynistic men.

President Yoon Suk Yeol also remarked about creating incentives for MEN by lowering their mandatory military service if they have more children with their wives... needless to say, 4B is specific to the lived experiences and realities of living under patriarchy in South Korea in many elements of her daily life. I stumbled on this video on my fyp, and this Creator gives SO much great context to 4B, and for those who can watch/listen I highly recommend this video as a start to understanding Korean feminism.

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cherryslyce · 1 year

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Second Son (IV) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Dumbledore's Army gears up in the Room of Requirements and Regulus reveals information that demonstrates the extent of his magical prowess.

Part III / Part V / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x Gender Neutral Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant, Tweaks to canon magic, Cursing

Harry made a fine teacher and if you weren't positive that he was leaning towards becoming an auror, you would have jumped at the chance to sing his praises to Dumbledore.

The meeting at Hog's Head started off rocky, but by the end of the trio's speech, everyone was convinced to sign the membership paper that carved their fates.

Of course, Umbridge somehow had ears and eyes everywhere and not even a week went by before she became suspicious of your group.

Thus, her proclamation for the dissolution of all student organizations went into effect.

Bloody ministry folks and their paranoia.

Regulus found her "Educational Decrees" to be the most ridiculous abuse of power and you had never seen him so fired up about something before.

He sure did take education seriously.

Despite Umbridge's warnings, everyone who was a part of the D.A showed their commitment by attending every meeting regardless. Soon, the tense air that uneased everyone dissipated as lively chatter and adrenaline dominated the space.

Your latest meeting in the Room of Requirements left you flabbergasted by the depth of skill and perseverance shown by a few individuals.

Currently, you were lazing on your bed, fawning over everyone's progress, "Hm, Reg, you should have seen it. Ginny's reducto was truly marvelous."

Your eyes glitter as you recall the moment Ginny managed to absolutely demolish the practice dummy, stunning her older brothers into silence.

Which reminded you that you would need to ask her about her acclaimed Bat-Bogey hex in the future.

"No need for me to see it. I heard it. Indeed, she is quite a formidable witch."

There was a weird edge to his tone, but you tried not to think much of it because you were having a strange gut feeling that he was off-put by your praise towards Ginny.

He was being quite strange today.

You still weren't quite sure how far you could push him for answers and the last thing you wanted was for your friendship to be strained.

Instead, you opted to gloss over your observation and continue rambling on. It was currently past curfew and you had warded your bed with silencing charms a couple of times, too paranoid to risk exposing Regulus.

There was a certain subject that you couldn't help but dwell on. Frankly, it was eating away at your patience and sanity.

After a few moments, you worked up the courage to bring it up, "Reg."

"Hm?"

You hesitated, peering down at him and meeting his attentive gaze, "This is going to sound crazy, but do you think there's any way for you to... not be a painting? I mean, I've just been wondering about it. Like, what if I could somehow bring you into the physical plane."

"Is that why your head has been up in the clouds so much, little bird?" He smiles teasingly at your offended look, having taken a liking to ruffling your feathers as of late.

(Fuck. Did you just accidentally make a pun out of that nickname?)

You gape at him before replying, more flusteredly than you appreciated, "Little bird? I know you said that to throw me off, Reg. So, don't try to change the topic!"

Regulus sighs quietly before looking at you steadily, "I just don't want you to be disappointed, Y/N. You shouldn't worry about me, I'll be just fine as your personal pocket portrait."

He pauses before continuing, posture growing rigid at his next words, "Besides, I don't need you experimenting with dangerous magic. In fact, that is the last thing I want you to do."

"But-"

He fixes you with a stern look, eyebrows raising in challenge.

You nod in defeat, deciding to file away your thoughts for another time. It wouldn't do any good to try and bring Regulus back while Voldemort was still running amuck, anyway.

Successfully placated, you conceded, "Okay. I just care a lot about you is all. Promise you'll tell me if you become dissatisfied with this arrangement."

He smiled faintly, shaking his head in fondness, "I know. I promise I will. But you don't have to worry your little head about it anytime soon."

His teasing was insufferable. But you‘d let him win the argument this time.

Your heart was racing in your chest and you flipped over onto your back, dazedly staring up at the canopy of curtains above your bed.

You were growing worried. At first you had assumed you were suffering from a minor medical condition, after all your heart had some pretty brutal scares from the twins over the summer. But as time passed, you concluded that you were suffering from a crush.

A minute, itty-bitty crush. On Regulus.

Who were you kidding. You were smitten for a bloody portrait. It was incredulous. Seriously, you were tempted to ask for a psych evaluation, but Madam Pomfrey would likely dose you into a coma and have Dumbledore ship you off to St. Mungo's.

But, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that Regulus wasn't just some dusty painting. He was vibrant and sarcastic. He could read you like an open book and he always looked out for you.

He was so alive.

Whoever had painted him captured his magical essence and personality so well, you were almost certain that he was exactly like his deceased, human counterpart.

Really, you couldn't decide if you were grateful towards the artist or if you wanted to hex them for making you feel the way you did.

You were like a bloody crup puppy tripping over your own tail for him.

How maddening.

Luckily, you didn't have much time to beat yourself up over it as Harry had approached you the very next morning with his own romantic dilemma.

"So...you guys kissed?"

"Yes."

You teetered with your thoughts for a few seconds, trying to make sense of Harry's grimace, "And it wasn't...ideal?"

"Well, she was crying so it was more wet and salty than anything."

"Bloody hell. Was that your first kiss, Harry?"

The boy gapes at the question and seems to come to a realization, lips furling down at whatever he was thinking about.

You couldn't stop the chuckle from leaving your lips, laying a comforting hand on your friend's shoulder, "It's okay, Harry. Besides, now you can move on from her. Plus, not everyone can say that their first kiss was with their first crush."

The boy shakes his head to rid of his thoughts, fixing his glasses (a habit you noticed he did whenever he was stressed).

Sighing, you tilt your head, "I'm assuming there's more to this story then?"

Harry looks like he's conflicted on whether or not to answer, but ultimately gives in, "She was crying over Cedric."

Ah, shit.

You eloquently mustered up a quiet, "Oh."

Harry nods along as if he was used to being the scapegoat of all of the universe's jokes. You couldn't help but feel terrible for your friend, it seemed that every school year was more traumatizing than the last.

"Don't worry, Harry. You're both going through your own issues, and you'll have plenty of chances at love in the future. Plus, you're going to look bloody cool today when you demonstrate that Patronus charm of yours."

Regulus had worn you down with his teaching, but you could perform most of the spells in the curriculum in your sleep now. The only spell you had never attempted before was the Patronus charm, always being daunted by the difficult spell.

Harry seems to perk up a little at your words and you could see the gears turning as he planned out his approach to the next lesson.

He really would make a fantastic professor.

A little bit later, after your classes, you figured that you could chat with Regulus for a bit before the D.A. meeting. As you tugged the curtains to cover your bed, casting a silencing spell, you quickly pulled Regulus out of your robe pocket.

You couldn't help the bright smile that overtook your face at the sight of him, "Hey there, Reg."

The boy smiles gently at your excitement before it's wiped away by a serious look. He was certainly much warmer with you than when you first met, but he was still quite guarded.

No matter. You were stubborn. You could wait for him to open up.

"Little bird. Did you want to discuss Harry's unfortunate love life or did you want to learn the Patronus charm ahead of time?"

You groan a little at the nickname, "I swear, I need to come up with a nickname for you now. But, wait, Reg, you can cast a patronus?"

The boy looks ready to retort, but you're quick to clarify your words, "I mean, not that I doubt your skills. It's just that I've always assumed that..."

Regulus, luckily, is not offended by your explanation and saves you from your fumbling, "That death eaters are incapable of casting it, right? Well, you're not wrong in the assumption. To my knowledge, many are unable to. I know the mechanisms of the spell, but I have only ever been able to cast it once."

Merlin, why did you even ask, he was literally capable of everything.

"Once? While you were still a student here, then?" Your defeated mumble of questions only slightly gave away your disappointment at his inability to be flawed.

Regulus looks as if he was expecting the question, a small smile tugging at his lips, "No. I was able to cast it after my death."

After his death?

Oh.

OH.

Your eyes were nearly bulging from your head, "Portraits have the capabilities to cast magic? No. No, that's just a you thing, right? Merlin, I was already in awe by how sentient you are, but this exceeds all my expectations."

Yes, Regulus was flawless. He was not merely blessed by Mother Magic, he was dearly loved by her.

Your nerves were buzzing and you were suddenly more awake than you were before. While you brung your finger to run along the frame of his portrait, Regulus seemed to finish gathering his thoughts.

It appeared that he was debating whether or not he should satiate your curiosity. Apparently, this topic was another one of his secrets.

Crossing his arms lightly across his chest, he answers quietly, "Yes, it is highly uncommon for any portrait to be as aware as I. Being able to cast magic was more of an experimentation of mine. Many wizards and witches do not delegate the necessary time frame to their portraits so it may be this nuanced. They usually only cover the basics: appearance, humor, and eccentricity. But, I just happened to spend many years before my death transferring all my knowledge and memories into this portrait."

"Years?" you echoed.

"Years." He nodded in confirmation, eyes unfocusing as he seemed to delve into past memories, "I always knew I'd take his mark growing up, so I commissioned for a portrait to be done beforehand. Luckily, I had it repainted over shortly before my death."

His explanation is a heavy, but not an unwelcome one.

So this was what Regulus looked like before he died. He was so young. You had always assumed that his portrait looked like him years before his passing.

The gears in your head were turning as you processed this new information, realizing that likely, very few people were privy to this knowledge on portraits.

For the sake of the wizarding world, you would keep this information from public ears.

It would be cataclysmic to have Voldemort live on and command his followers through a portrait.

"Thank you for telling me, Reg. I appreciate it."

The boy simply nods, a heavy weight seemingly easing off his shoulders. This was the first time he had divulged heavy information about his past, and despite how fleeting it was, you were appreciative nonetheless.

Suddenly a realization hit you and you perked up on the spot, "Wait, Reg. You said you can cast the patronus charm, right? Was it corporeal?"

Regulus doesn't grace you with an answer, but the twinkle in his eye and the smirk on his face already told you everything you needed to know, a youthful glow suddenly shrouding his face. Unbelievable. A bloody portrait casted a fully corporeal patronus before you.

Your awe only grows once the D.A. meeting starts.

Harry doesn't even begin the meeting by saying anything, he simply takes his wand out and casts his spell into the air with a firm Expecto Patronum.

A burst of bright, blue light whirls like a tide before manifesting into a large stag, the light of the patronus illuminating Harry's gleeful eyes.

Everyone in the room stares in wonder as his patronus galianty runs in circles above their heads before bursting into a sprint through the wall, disappearing, just as Harry tucks his wand away.

"Well that's one hell of an opening."

Your words are met with a few nods and chuckles as Harry grins in your direction. Harry then begins to break down the wand movements necessary to cast the charm and supplies everyone with tips on how to cast it quicker.

You were not going to let Regulus beat you out, you were going to cast a bloody patronus today if it's the last thing you'd do. So you continue to listen to (Professor) Harry attentively, fiddling with your wand in anticipation.

You remember what Harry had told you in third year, the year he learned to cast it. You needed to bring forth a strong, happy memory in your head.

Taking in a deep breath, you maneuver your wand in front of you and narrow your eyes into the air, almost as if willing your patronus to sprout from your wand just from desire alone.

A happy memory. Happy. First year. Meeting Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Running around Hogwarts and beating up the troll in the lavatory. —You wondered if Harry's memory had anything to do with your friend group.

The little blue light that peeked from your wand immediately evaporated as you lost concentration, causing you to silently curse yourself. Focus.

Happy. Third year. Sneaking around with your friends and watching Harry blast Snape across the Shrieking Shack. Happy. Fourth year. Laughing with Ron as Harry got flustered around Cho. Happy. Happy. Finding Regulus.

The small wisp of blue light that you conjured grows a little bigger and brighter.

Yes. Regulus.

Laughing with Regulus. Laughing at Regulus. Learning from Regulus.

Making Regulus smile for the first time in the disappearing room at Grimmauld Place.

Regulus giving you his ring. Feeling the cool silver against your skin for the first time. Watching Regulus‘ eyes unconsciously drift towards the ring whenever you waved your hands around.

Suddenly, you're pulled from your thoughts by a sudden burst of blue light in front of you. You are still rather overwhelmed by the thought of Regulus. Until you're not.

You don't exactly register the next few moments of time, being vaguely aware of Harry's shout of pride and everyone's murmurs of awe.

No, you're too distracted. Not because it was the thought of Regulus that allowed you to cast a fully corporeal patronus.

No, it's because as you're watching your patronus move around in the air, you realize that you're screwed.

A sparrow. A little bird.

Your patronus. Did it manifest from how much you secretly enjoyed the nickname? If so, you certainly did not like the implications of that.

The sparrow circles around your stunned body one last time before flying through the ceiling and disappearing. Your shock recedes as you see Ginny and Luna successfully cast their patronuses as well, just in time for a deep rumble to reverberate around the walls.

Turning to face the entrance of the room, dust clouds your vision as your ears begin to ring. Rubble lays astrew on the floor and you blurrily bring your hand to swat away the dust in front of you, feeling someone grasp at your shoulder to keep you upright.

As the dust settles and you're pushed back into the coherence of reality, you bring your gaze towards the perpetrator.

Standing proudly at the newly blasted hole in the wall were Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad, a shamefaced Cho held by Draco's side.

Merlin be damned. Harry's love life is a proper mess.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly

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oldshrewsburyian · 2 months

Note

I don't know if the viking age is your area of expertise, but I saw certain comments in this post about vikings: https://wwwdottumblrdotcom/cracked/160025927549/why-everything-you-know-about-vikings-is-a-lie?source=share

that I would like to ask you about.

The post comes from the comedy website Cracked and states "relative to their era, medieval scandinavians were big-time democrats, feminists and neat-freaks. Vikings were some of the cleanest people in world-history."

In the comment section some people are sceptical of these claims which is kinda understandable.

For example, some question the claim about being the cleanest people in the world because of testimony from the Arab visitor ibn Fadlan: "as a historian, i gotta say, it's highly relative and heavily depends on a point of view. I read a transcript of a info letter from an arab ambassador currently residing in scandinavia. He was disgusted and pretty much said that the northern folk were filthy pigs. Which in terms if hygiene brits < scandinavians <<<<<<<<<<<< arabs"

and

"speaking as someone with an MA in medieval history I feel that he is spinning this a little heavy. I mean have any of you read the primary accounts of Ahmad ibn Fadlan meeting the Vikings?"

and as for feminism, a comment from someone with "historian" in their bio states: "They weren't even that feminist to their own people, its theorised that part of the reason they started raiding was because they'd skewed their own gender ratio badly through gender selective infanticide, so there were more men than women. Women held power in that society because viking men wanted their bodies and had too few to go around.

So men went raiding either in intense competition to get gifts and treasures for a woman, or else to try and take women slaves. The vikings were so not feminist that they unleashed a wave of terror on much of the European coast in a quest to get laid. It doesn't get much less feminist than that."

I want to ask for your takeaway on these statements; is the account by Ibn Fadlan prove anything about hygiene in early medieval scandinavia in general, and would it be possible to conclusively judge whether the "vikings" were "feminist" or not?

Hello! It's been a while! I see that you come to me with... the "historians" of the comedy website Cracked. The short answers to your questions are "no" and "no, but also the Vikings were not feminist, give me strength."

Also, whoever is writing "as a historian" is writing as a history major at best, I'm guessing; they're repeating inaccurate clichés about hygiene and also misidentifying Ibn Fadlan's Rihla as an "info letter."

To address your points sequentially:

"big-time democrats" Hahahaha no. First of all, local governance was the norm in the global Middle Ages, everywhere from China to India to England. (This is why the "I thought we were an autonomous collective" joke in Monty Python is so funny.) At the top of the social hierarchy, some kind of cooperation between ruler and advisory body was also the norm. But because the Vikings had assemblies without crowned rulers, some racists looking for The Origins of Democracy™ have said "Aha! A Proto-Democracy™!" ...no.

"feminists" ...this is based on a lot of hypothesizing. Moreover, it's based on an old-fashioned way of doing history that looks more narrowly at a narrower source base than is the norm today. It's also based on the not-always-correct assumption that raiding parties must have been exclusively male. Anyway, the "feminists" argument rests on the assumption that because women were trusted to manage the economy and everything while the Vikings were off viking (the verb is for raiding, originally), and because they had certain legal privileges, they must have had better cultural status than their peers in other European societies. But again: women being fully involved in the economy is the norm in premodern Europe in ways it is not after Europe invents The Private/Domestic/Feminine Sphere™ in, oh, about 1750. The Private Sphere For Delicate Women, of course, is only for the middle classes. Then there's the whole Viking thing about men being shamed for doing "womanly" magic-use in saga literature.

"neat-freaks" Sigh. I think this comes from one (1) chronicle reference, which I've been failing to track down this morning, in which the male author is bemoaning the fact that the Vikings' comely appearance, braids, and perfumes enable them to entice local women. Taking this claim at face value requires a lot of willful ignorance about how alternate models of masculinity are rhetorically used in premodern sources, to say nothing about willful ignorance about the realities of sexual violence. This is also to say nothing about poor Ibn Fadlan's horrified account of men spitting and blowing their noses into a communal washing bowl.

...There are many affordable, accessible books on the European Middle Ages; series of public-facing online articles; and yet people cook things like this up on Cracked.com. I don't get paid enough.

#bad medievalism bingo #asks and answers #history side of tumblr #medieval

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 4 months

Text

My current letter to the HBO Folks.

@stardust-sadie's latest letter, @merryfinches, @poison-into-positivity and so many others inspired me to write my own letter to David Zaslav. This is what was sent, feel free to use any of it if you'd like, I stole some of Stardust-Sadie's commentary with their permission (in their letter).

---

Email Addresses:

Only emails that worked:

[email protected]

The rest of these are not working at the moment:

[email protected], [email protected], To whom it may concern: attention David Zaslav, [email protected]

---

To whom it may concern: Attention David Zaslav

I realize you all are probably being swamped at the moment by an influx of responses to your decision to not greenlight Season 3 of Our Flag Means Death, so I appreciate you taking the time to read this if you do.

I am writing today, much like many of my fellow fans, hoping to provide you with evidence and earnest feedback as to why you should reverse the decision not to renew. I have used HBO Max in the past, but once a show I liked was over, and another one on another network came up that we wanted to watch, we decided to cancel. I was on HBOMax before I knew about Our Flag Means Death, and aside from Doom Patrol and Harley Quinn, we didn't have too many other shows we wanted to watch. After cancelling for many months, I heard of Our Flag Means Death from an artist that drew for other fandoms that I liked. Looking into the fanbase, I quickly found pieces that I felt were definitely up my alley and decided to cancel other networks for a few months to jump back into HBOMax.

Why is this important? I don't watch ads in a lot of places. I block pop ups because they are often very spammy, so I don't get recommendations for shows like most people. I'm a [AGE][GENDER][PROFESSION] and I avoid advertising in most cases. You know where I get my recommendations? Fanbases, casts and crews. The absolute adoration of an artist or writer that I like loving a series will get me to look into and watch that show before any other kind of advertising. Your fanbase is free advertising. THAT BEING SAID -- I'd like to explain to you what meant so much to me about this show.

Not only was I absolutely floored by the quality, and story of Our Flag Means Death, but the thing that kept me wanting more was the messages it portrayed. So rarely is there a show that embodies drama, comedy, and an all encompassing belief in forgiveness and change, and accepting others for who they are. This show gave me a new outlook on life. It helped me to heal parts of myself I didn't realize were hurt. I found love and compassion in the cast, the crew, and the fanbase that I haven't experienced in modern television in a very long time. I became engaged in other max shows because of it (Wellington Paranormal, The Last of Us, His Dark Materials, Lovecraft Country, etc). I'm actively watching shows and content I had previously decided not to worry about because of the influence of Our Flag Means Death.

For me, as a fan, knowing that Max has content that means so much to me and others, shows that as a company, you're willing to have content that not only sparks the imagination, but fosters kindness, acceptance, and forgiveness no matter what race, gender, sexuality, or financial background you're from. That is the content we, the fans, have been looking for in so many places and have found them lacking. Another great example of this is the Barbie movie that you had a sign language interpreter for. While I am a hearing person, I still watched it because it was fascinating and so incredibly inclusive, and that tells me that you, HBOMax as a company DOES care about inclusivity.

When we waited for the renewal announcement this winter, I purchased Our Flag Means Death merchandise from your store (a mug and a blanket) because I knew I needed something to commemorate this great show no matter what happened. I am one of many fans who did this. Fun, reasonably designed merchandise is something we the fanbase can get behind.

Our Flag Means Death is a powerhouse in television, and I know that it's only meant to be 3 seasons, so it won't be a cash cow forever, but I can tell you it's brought SO MANY PEOPLE to your platform that would normally just not have joined up. I am on HBO Max right now so that I can watch Our Flag Means Death whenever I want to. You're getting monthly subscription fees from me and so many other people JUST for this show. Your decision to cancel it is actually hurting your numbers, as can be seen in the clear drop in shareholder confidence since the announcement on January 9th. Attached is a screenshot of the WB Discovery Inc Stock for reference.

In addition, a colleague of mine said this best so I will quote them here:

"Furthermore, the decision to cancel the show has led to a very prominent and public backlash from the very passionate and vocal fanbase of Our Flag Means Death. Fans have made their displeasure known across all the major social media platforms: X, Instagram, TikTok, Tumblr, YouTube, Facebook, etc etc. This backlash is unlikely to die down in the near future, and is likely to continue to reflect a poor image of HBO Max to subscribers and investors.

The egregious decision to cancel Our Flag Means Death has also caught the attention of journalists writing for major publications, such as Vanity Fair, The Hollywood Reporter, The Independent, and even more niche internet publications such as Collider. "

All of this is true. As an active member of this fanbase, I am seeing this across all platforms.

I implore you, as a huge consumer of fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, historical, and lgbtqia content, to please reconsider renewing Our Flag Means Death for its 3rd and final season. We the fans are willing to put our hearts and souls into these letters because this show made an impact on our community that is so immense and cascading that it can't be quantified. I guarantee that a good faith act to do so will not only restore your reputation but open new revenue streams if you continue with this kind of inclusive and heartfelt content.

Thank you for your time,

[NAME]

#ofmd #our flag means death #renewofmd #renew our flag means death #renew ofmd #ofmd renewal #renew as a crew

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lokisprettygirl · 8 months

Text

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 14 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 15

Summary : After your accident Daemon takes every measure to keep you safe from further harm.

Warning: 18+, Angst, violent thoughts, stalking, Discussion of mensuration and Pregnancy, bloodshed, Abusive relationship, mention of rape, ptsd, toxic masculinity, gender norms, sexual abuse, Samantha, traumatic distressing content, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

Sounds of the ECG beeping was all you heard as you struggled to open your eyes, everything felt surreal as if you were not even alive anymore, you looked to your left and your parents were staring at you with tears in their eyes, so worried sick, but before you could even blink you felt the darkness claiming you again.

The next time you opened your eyes your parents were in the same spot as before, it felt like minutes to you but unknown to you it has been days, they had different clothes on, you registered that because your dad had his favorite shirt on today.

Your head then turned to the right and you saw Daemon, dressed in a black leather jacket and matching trousers. Looking handsome as ever, at first you thought you were hallucinating but he was there because the tears in his eyes seemed too real.

You looked around and saw yourself hooked to several different things at once, your body felt heavy, your head even worse.

"Who are you?" You asked Daemon and his face went even paler than usual, tears rolled down his eyes as the question knocked his breath from his chest.

"Darling.." he grabbed on your fingers as he whispered softly, the action made you smile.

"Gotcha" you mumbled meekly, your voice came out all hoarse and raspy, there was a shock on his face before he sighed deeply and placed his head down on your palm in relief. He couldn't bear the thought of you forgetting all about him, just the thought of losing you that way was nothing worse than a nightmare.

You remembered the accident of course, you remembered everything clearly.

"Mom ..dadd" you mumbled as you turned your head towards your terrified looking parents.

"We are right here sweetheart" your mom said so you smiled, you could tell your dad was just staring at Daemon constantly, he was UFC fan and now there was a 6 feet tall and jacked professional fighter sitting next to his daughter, crying his eyes out..

"That's Daemon.. Daddy..told you guys about the guy" your dad was still staring at Daemon as you said that.

"That's Daemon..the guy you were uhh–?" Your mom asked in a quiet voice so you hummed.

"That Daemon, yes," you never really told them who he was, your parents had a bad habit of getting too nosey with your relationships, they wanted you to marry every guy you had dated before him.

Much to your dismay you actually wanted to marry this one, make him your husband.

They knew your relationship with him had ended so it must have been a shock to see him here as an ex boyfriend, not just that but to realize you have been dating Daemon Targaryen the whole time was a bit of a shock for your dad..

"Okay..hello ..son" your dad said awkwardly so Daemon got up and walked around the bed to go hug him before he hugged your mother.

He then went back to his chair to sit next to you, you could feel his eyes on you but you didn't want to look at him, you knew you'd start crying if you did. Daemon had seen your folks before in the last one week as he visited the hospital to check up on you but he wasn't introduced to them this way.

"You have been out for a week ..we were so worried" your mom said softly and your eyes widened.

A week huh? That was a lot, you slept for a week of your life but at least you were alive. A doctor came for a routine checkup and told you that you were lucky to be conscious and coherent, you had a head injury, your right leg was broken in three different places, one of your arms was broken as well.

You looked down and thanked your stars that it wasn't the right one.

A detective also came to investigate, he asked you about the car and if you saw the person driving but it had all happened so fast you didn't really see anything. You had seen Daemon' talking to the cop outside the room so you didn't know what it was all about. It was just an accident right? Maybe they were just looking for the person because they ran away after hitting you.

"CCTV footage shows a man driving the same car around downtown a few hours later, we found the vehicle abandoned there, it was a rental" Cole told Daemon, he wasn't just a detective, he was an old friend so Daemon really trusted him to find the culprit, your accident wasn't really an accident and a part of him feared that it was Samantha but he needed evidence to really be assured.

The day after your accident he really needed to talk to you and hold you, Samantha had done something again and he really needed a safe space, he needed his angel to hold him and tell him that he was stronger than this, that he could deal with her but as he reached the diner he was informed about the accident.

His heartbeat sped as he made his way to the hospital, a part of him felt terrified that you'd be dead and leave him forever, that he'd never see you smiling and laughing again, and that's when he had realized what he really needed in life, he didn't want his name and reputation or what the world thought of him, he wanted you, only you.

As he reached the hospital he was told that that you were slipping in and out of consciousness and your life was fragile at the moment, doctors had done everything they could and now it was up to fate. He didn't go back to his condo that night, he went to your apartment instead since he had the key still and he laid down on your bed as he cried to his heart's content. This was all his fault, he was supposed to take care of you and protect you but he wasn't there when you needed him the most but he had swore on his dead mother that he won't make the same mistake again.

Last week was the worst week of his life but now you were awake and he was going to take care of you. You have done it for him since the beginning of your relationship and it was time for him to do the same.

As your parents went to get Lunch Daemon came back to you and sat down, his thumb grazed over your cheek tenderly so you smiled,

"How do you feel?" A stupid question he knew, he had been in the hospital a few too many times to know how it felt.

"Like death" he smiled as you said that.

"Now i know how you must feel when you see me all banged up"

"Good…karma" you smiled so he chuckled "If I ask you a question will you be honest?"

His expressions turned somber as you said that, he had no idea what you were about to say to him, he just hoped you wouldn't ask him to leave.

"Always..you know that"

"Hmmmm…so on a scale of one to ten how bad do I look and smell right now?"

He looked at you for a moment before his mouth curved into a smile,

"Well the smell is not pleasant..but you're my beautiful girl always"

Your smile faded as he said that.

Were you still his beautiful girl? You had no idea.

"Consider my next words as me being high on the meds, but… i love you" you whispered softly so he leaned over you to kiss your forehead.

"I love you" he whispered softly as he wiped the tears from your eyes that were about to roll down.

"Have you been here all week?" You asked him so he nodded and kissed the back of your hand.

"And what does she have to say about you visiting me here?"

"Don't know.. haven't been to my condo in a week " he shrugged

"Where are you living then?"

"In your apartment" there was a look of surprise on your face as he said that. He still had the key of course but you weren't expecting him to live there.

"Are you wearing my clothes too?" You joked and it made him chuckle again.

"I tried.. didn't fit"

It was nice to have him talk to you this way again.

He didn't want to tell you just yet that he had suspicions regarding Samantha being involved or that she had hurt him again, he wanted to take care of you this time and not the other way around.

"Sleep darling..you need rest" he caressed your cheek softly and as you fell asleep he kissed your forehead and tucked you under the covers properly because the visiting hours were over too. He made his way over to the reception and the lady working there gave him a flirtatious smile so he smiled politely in response, he was starting to get used to the attention.

"Can I ask you for a favour lady"? He asked her and she smiled even wider,

"Yes sir, ofcourse "

He asked her to inform him who was visiting you throughout the day, he couldn't be there every second so he really needed to make sure whether Samantha had been there or not, he knew she wasn't that dumb to register her own name but he checked all the names and so far only your parents, Viserys and some of your friends had turned up including Clair, the waitress at your diner. He asked the receptionist to ask for identification and to alert the security if someone named Samantha Rhodes would come to visit you, for security purposes he also requested Cole to take extra measures.

When he had heard of your accident he really thought he'd lose you again and this time forever but you survived and he won't let anything else happen to you now, he won't fail you again, he was determined to avenge you and punish the culprit who had put you through this.

And it was perhaps his luck that he saw her the same day.

In the evening he went back to your apartment and got an hour or two of sleep before he got up, got ready and made his way back to the hospital to wait for the visiting hours to reopen. Your parents were already there too so he brought coffee and donuts for them. He felt a bit nervous around them, he really wanted them to like him.

"She never told us about you..I mean..she told us your name..just didn't tell us that it was youuu" your mom said nervously, he had an intimidating presence.

"You guys watch the sport?"

"He does," he smiled as your mother said that.

The next few days were rough for you, you felt the pain and discomfort throughout your body and you hated feeling so immobile, after two weeks your parents had to leave, they had their jobs and they lived far away from NYC so they couldn't have stayed for long but you had Daemon by your side throughout and he even assured your parents that they won't have to worry about her, that he'll give you the best care possible. Your insurance had run out as well so he paid for the rest of the hospital bill from his own pocket. You would have argued but you were in no position to do so at the moment.

There were plenty of times when you wanted to ask him about Samantha but he always avoided the question and deflected, he didn't want to talk about her at all.

Another week later you were finally discharged so he drove you home. Your bones were still healing, making you unable to walk on your own. Your doctor had told you that you'd need physical therapy and plenty of patience to get through this. Patience wasn't really your strong suit.

You looked at the wheel chair and grimaced so Daemon picked you up instead to take you in your apartment.

You entered the place expecting it to be messy but he had kept it squeaky clean. He was such a husband.

"Home sweet home aye?" He kissed your forehead as he put you down on the floor, his arm stayed around you for support. You felt grateful to come back home, couldn't have spent one more day at the hospital.

"Let me kiss your forehead" you said to him, making him smile in response.

You wrapped your right arm around his neck so he leaned his head down on its own knowing that you were not able to get on your tiptoes as you usually did.

"Thank you Mister cheese burger..for everything" he nodded as you spoke.

"Mmmm been a while since I have had it"

"Want me to make it for you?"

"No i want you to rest..you have had enough exertion for the day" you groaned as he carefully picked you up by placing his arm under your thighs and another one holding onto your waist.

He laid you down on the bed and placed a bunch of pillows under your head since you didn't really want to sleep right now. You felt worried about him, he was pretending to be all okay but you knew there was something bothering him. Samantha wasn't the type to stay quiet if he wasn't visiting her so how did he convince her to let him see you? He practically spent all his time with you when he wasn't working. Was he lying to her? Or he was lying to you about something?

He sat down on the edge of the bed, seemingly lost in his head so you caressed his arm to get his attention. Leaning over you his forearm situated on your side as he kissed the corner of your mouth, you pressed your fingers on his lips before he could go any further.

"Are we going to pretend we never broke up?" You asked him and his brows furrowed.

"Yeah ..you almost died on me so that's exactly what we are going to do"

"I'm not letting you cheat on anyone Daemon even if it's the devil herself"

"I'm not hers ..I'm yours, i have been yours even when I was with her"

You gulped as he said that.

"You didn't sleep with her?"

You asked sheepishly as you played with the button of his shirt. You were glad he didn't sleep with her, not just for your own selfish reasons but also because the thought of her hurting him again has kept you up at nights ever since he went back to her.

"Not once"

"Did she hurt you though?"

"Once"

"How?"

"It doesn't matter" he tilted his head so you sighed.

"It does to me"

"Kiss me"

"Noo…not unless you leave her"

"I have done so already"

"Yeah? Then where is she? Why is she not threatening you now?"

You were asking too many questions but he wasn't ready to dump it all on you right now.

"Kiss me" he whispered

"Daemon" you gave him the eyes but it didn't faze him.

"Kiss me" you couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

"You're being a child you know that?"

"Then treat me like one…give me what I want"

"What about what I want?"

"Do you not want to kiss me?"

"I need you to tell me the truth..where is she?" You asked him a bit sternly this time so he sighed again.

"At my condo ..she has been real quiet since your accident "

"Why? When did you see her last?"

"A week post your accident..the day you gained consciousness"

"Okay umm i -"

His phone started ringing, cutting you mid sentence so he groaned a little and got off the bed, it was Viserys,

"He wants to see you, I can ask him to fuck off if you need rest" he ruffled your hair so you chuckled.

"It's alright he can come"

A few minutes later Viserys was right there in your bedroom, he sent Daemon into the kitchen to make tea for everyone because he really needed to talk to you.

"You seem uhhh better" he said nervously, making you smile.

"Yeah I have the best caretaker" Viserys nodded as you said that. Two idiots he thought.

"You know he needs you right?" He spoke directly and your eyes narrowed in response.

"I was there..he was the one to leave" you defended yourself as you didn't like the accusation in his tone.

"No he asked you to leave" he argued further.

"Same thing"

"It's not the same thing..he asked you to leave and what did you do? You packed your bags and left"

"So what was I supposed to do? Viserys?" You asked him, doing your best to keep your voice down.

"Fight..you were supposed to fight for him..he's losing himself again since that day..he drinks and smokes all day long, he avoids going into his own house"

Your eyes welled up as he said that, he wasn't completely wrong though . Whatever he said was hurting your ego but if you loved him so deeply then why did you give up so easily on him?

"I'm sorry, it's perhaps not my place to speak to you this way.. and I'm so happy you're well now..I just need the two of you to stop being such complete buffoons..this kind of love that you two have is irreplaceable" He gave you a smile and it made you smile as well, as Daemon came back he immediately noticed the tears in your eyes so he glared at Viserys.

"Are you being mean to her?"

"No .no..just something in my eye…tea please" you mumbled softly so he sat down next to you and wrapped one of his arm around around your shoulder and held the coffee cup in front of you, he blew on it to cool down, the gesture made you want to bawl your eyes out.

When Viserys left Daemon made you take your medicines and tucked you in bed. He had to go for an hour, as much as he didn't want to see her, he really had to.

When you woke up a few hours later he was on the other side of the bed reading a book,

"Sleeping Beauty" he mumbled as you stretched your arm.

"What are you reading?" You asked him as he put the book down on the side table.

"Just a book ..Hungry?" He asked you so you shook your head.

"You need to eat"

"Mmmmmm yess doctor..can you take me to the bathroom first?"

"Of Course darling "

He picked you up carefully and you nuzzled your face between the crook of his neck. How did you spend months without him? It didn't make sense to you, you just knew that you didn't want to do it all over again. You needed him in your life as much as he needed you.

He made you sit down on the toilet and then stared at you to make it more awkward than it had to be.

"Comfy?" He asked you so you nodded,

"I'll call you" you gave him a tight lipped smile so he nodded.

"Alright I'm just ..right outside"

"Well don't stand too close to the door ..I'd rather not have you hear me doing my .. business"

He chuckled as you said that, your embarrassment was adorable to him.

Once you were done you somehow hobbled towards the sink which luckily for you was just two feet away. As you washed your face and looked into the mirror, you couldn't help but cringe at your own appearance.

"It's a miracle he's still attracted to you" you mumbled under your breath.

In the hospital they were assisting you with the bed bath so you didn't actually smell horrendous but you really needed a long, relaxing, warm bath now.

"Daemon"

As you called his name he entered immediately and stood behind you.

"I look awful"

"No you don't"

"I need a bath" you groaned so he grabbed your head and kissed it before he moved towards the bathtub.

"Whatever you want..you just have to ask"

"Really? You can't read my mind?" You joked

"I wish I could," he smiled as he prepared the bath for you.

"Do you have a saran wrap?" He asked you so you snickered as if he had asked the most offensive question. You were a chef, of course you had a Saran wrap.

"Of Course I do" he ran into the kitchen immediately and came back with it to wrap it securely around the cast on your arm and leg so it won't get wet under any condition.

Now you had to deal with the fact that you had to get naked in order to get into the tub.

"Ummmmm I think I'll get myself in the tub, you can stay outside"

"No you're going to hurt yourself..don't be absurd darling" he scoffed.

"Fineee it's not as if you have not seen me naked" a smirk appeared on his face as you said that. Him and his stupid beautiful face.

"Ohhh definitely..i even have it on video remember? That video has been used plenty of times in the past months" you gasped as he said that. Embarrassment flushed your cheeks.

"You didn't delete it?"

"Now why would I do such a thing? Stop being a brat now..I'll close my eyes okay?" He said softly so you sighed,

"You don't have to"

You mumbled sheepishly and it made him smile, he undressed you carefully before he picked you up and sat you down in the tub, it felt as surreal as you thought it would, you almost fell asleep again as he washed your hair gently.

After the bath he put a night dress on you and helped you wear underwear, you didn't really want to eat but he forced chicken soup in your mouth because Daemon did whatever he wanted.

As he tucked you in the bed your eyes felt heavy already but you didn't want to sleep just yet. You wanted to talk to him.

"Where are you going?" You asked him as he turned the light off and was about to leave the room.

"I'll sleep on the couch don't worry "

"Don't be ridiculous.. sleep here"

"That won't be wise..i haven't been sated in almost five months" you chuckled as he said that.

"Come on..come here" you turned on your back and tapped the right side of the mattress so he sighed deeply, took his shirt off and walked around the bed to climb next to you.

"Can I ask you a question and you'll be completely honest?" He chuckled as you questioned him before he turned towards you and kissed your forehead.

"You are too pretty, you smell divine and yes I love you..i always will" You giggled as he said that "Fine ask me whatever it is" you didn't want to make him sad or upset but you had to ask this question, it was bothering you since that night.

"Why did you lose that night Daemon?" The smile on his face faltered slowly as you questioned,

"It's a sport, you win some and lose some" he said nonchalantly as if it was no big deal.

"No you did it on purpose I know..why? Did she threaten you?"

He sighed as you questioned him again. He was hoping you'd let it go but maybe he needed to tell you the truth.

"No, she didn't threaten me. I lost because I felt unworthy of such a win after what I had done…to you.. to us "

Your eyes teared up as he said that.

"You shouldn't have done that.. dae"

"It's just a championship darling..relax"

"No ..I know you didn't just lose because you felt unworthy, you lost because you wanted to feel pain didn't you? And i hate that..I hate that you hurt yourself like that"

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't be so callous about it daemon..I'm not joking right now" your tone was sharp as you spoke to him. You didn't want him to harm himself so cruelly whenever he was in emotional distress.

"Neither am I..I'm apologizing ..I was in a bad space and wasn't thinking clearly..so I'm sorry okay?" His voice had gotten softer and you didn't want to argue with him for now, atleast not tonight.

"Promise me you'll never do that again"

"Okay i promise " he turned towards you and rested himself on his elbow. You brought your right hand forward and traced it over the scars on his right shoulder, his breath hitched at the contact so he scooted closer to you, you seemed so physically broken his heart rendered everytime he looked at you now.

"You keep asking me these stupid questions like the silly little girl that you are but you didn't answer mine" he mumbled as his nose rubbed against yours, the look on his face made you smile.

"You didn't ask a question"

"I did.. I asked you if you didn't want to kiss me?" You bit on your lower lip as he questioned, your thumb grazed over his soft pink lips.

"What do you think?"

"It doesn't matter what I think"

"It does to me..it always matters what you think and say and do"

"Alright..then tell me ..have you forgiven me?" He asked you as his thumb caressed your cheek,

"Are you going to leave again?"

"No"

"What if she comes back with her threats again?"

"We will fight.. however you want.. I don't care anymore"

"Even if you would ..this time I won't let you leave me so easily"

"Mmmm I'm sorry darling "

"Well you better be..i have to ask though ..what changed your mind? Is it because I almost died?"

"Yeah" he answered honestly, he never minced his words and you loved that about him. Honesty was rare these days.

"So I had to almost die for you to come back to me?"

"I'd have turned up eventually, how long can a man stay away from home?"

You cupped his cheeks and pressed your head up to kiss him, his words ignited the fire in you, he held your face and laid you back down on the pillow as he kissed you as tenderly as he could, mustering all the passion that had been brewing inside him these past few months was poured into the kiss. He had missed you more than he could describe in words, your safe comforting touch was all he needed in life now.

After a long day he needed his angel to come back to, to hold and cherish, he didn't want to spend all day working and then spend his nights in bars and sleep in his car. He wanted to come home to you.

He suddenly pulled away as he found himself being aroused, as much as he wanted to take you right now he knew better than that, your body was still healing from the aftermath of the accident, still so fragile and he didn't want to hurt you further.

"What's wrong?" You asked him as he laid down on his side.

"Nothing is wrong .. everything is okay now..it's perfect" he turned his head and smiled so you puckered your lips.

That night he caressed your head until you had fallen asleep, he couldn't really cuddle you with all those casts on your body so he had to improvise. However at night, he woke up to you shuffling in your sleep as you cried and screamed. Perhaps you were having a nightmare about the accident so he gently woke you up and you just sobbed like a child before you drifted into sleep again.

It's not that you didn't have your own troubles in life but now because of him and because of Samantha something so awful had happened to you, he knew this trauma would trouble you for months to come.

Next day you met Sally, she was your in-house nurse that would help you in Daemon's absence. He had told you that he'd come home late as he had to train after work.

He was lying to you and he felt awful about it but he didn't want to tell you anything about where he was going or what he was doing after work, he had no idea how you'd react and he didn't want to stress you out while you were healing.

After work he called you and told you that he'd see you soon then he got fish rolls from a take out service. Samantha hated fish rolls, there was a sinister smile on his face as he made his way into his condo. it was quiet, too quiet as he expected it to be,

"Honey I'm home..brought dinner" he yelled so she'd hear him but of course she couldn't respond. He heard her muffled voice even from the distance as he grabbed a plate from the kitchen and stepped inside his room. And there she was, Samantha, on his bed, tied up in chains, her mouth covered with a thick layer of duct tape, she reeked of sweat, it's been three weeks since she had last showered.

"Awnnn did you miss me?" He walked closer to her and pulled the duct tape off her mouth and she took a deep breath, "If you scream you know what I'll do with you right?" He asked her, his voice was filled with hate and disgust, he wished he had felt a bit of remorse for what he was doing but he didn't. Not one bit. Not after the pain she had put you through.

"Daemon..please don't do this, you know i love you" he snickered as she said that, he dialed a number on her own phone and gave it to her.

"Go on..talk to your bestie and pretend as if you're not being held up against your will"

It was Allison's number, he had been making her talk to her once in a while so her absence won't raise any suspicions.

Once she was done with the phone call he placed the plate of fish rolls down in front of her. She was starving since yesterday when he had seen her last so it was satisfying to watch her go crazy on those rolls, the same woman who had once thrown them on his face because he didn't know she hated them.

"Now you look as disgusting on the outside as you're on the inside" Daemon smiled so she grabbed the plate and threw it right at him which he caught expertly. He was expecting something like that from her but the action had annoyed him further so he immediately got up and tied her up again,

"Daemon you'll be jailed for this you know that right?" She told him so he glared at her.

"And you think you'll get away with what you have done?"

He asked her as he gripped her hair harshly, a week after your accident he had caught Samantha going into the same hospital, he had no idea what she was planning to do but his suspicions were confirmed that she was the one to harm you, he brought her home that day and she has been his hostage ever since, he knew this was wrong but everytime he thought about how he could have lost you forever, how she had tried to kill you so mercilessly, his resolve to punish her only got stronger. He won't let her go unless she agrees to confess to her crimes..

"You know where I slept last night?" He asked her and she only hissed in response "In her bed, right next to her, I held her so close to me and kissed her for lord knows how long.. and I'm going to do the same tonight and then every night after that"

He whispered softly as he put a duct tape on her mouth, there were several bruises on her wrists and legs from the chain, her eyes teared up in anger and helplessness as he talked about you like that. She always thought of Daemon as her pet, her puppy that she controlled however she wanted, this wasn't the man she recognised anymore.

"She's so sweet, so forgiving, so loving. My pretty little angel..whenever I'm next to her I feel so ..alive..and I'm so very sorry Samantha" he smiled at her and she looked at him confused, not knowing why he was apologizing.

"I am sorry I never loved you the way I love her and you tried to take her away from me like that? You see why I have to do this right? I'd die for her and kill for her, I'd kill you if I have to"

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

She struggled against the binds as he said that "Be good now yeah? I'll come back tomorrow..will bring some sushi..you love that right? I know you do"

She absolutely didn't, she hated that.

He smiled as he walked towards the door and turned around to look at her one last time before he turned the lights off, leaving her in complete darkness for the night.

Note : He snapped

Taglist (please check your setting if I’m not able to tag you)

@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2 @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thefallenangel21n @kmc1989

@stupidthoughtsinwriting

#daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #non canon au #modern au #read the warnings

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scribespirare · 10 months

Note

Do you think you could write an a/b/o for omega Miles babysitting Mayday at HQ, and tsundere alpha Miguel doesn't know how to cope? The way you write these two is just *chef's kiss*

Nonnie i could kiss you for this request i love it so so much. i kinda...went a little nuts with it lmao. first its sappy then it gets sad and it ends very horny. its 2k long ajdfkdj;a. i think im gonna write the sex scene later and post it as a full fic.

There are very few things that can stop Miguel O'Hara in his tracks these days. He's been there, seen it all, got the goddamned spider suit to prove it. Surprising him is nigh impossible and he likes it that way.

For some reason, Miles Morales seems to be at the top of the list of things that can get to him though.

Miles, with his big dark eyes and his sneer and his inability to listen to common sense or reason. The Omega superhero who defies every stereotype about his gender. Who smells absolutely amazing and is stunning in action, lithe body built perfectly for his acrobatics.

Miles, who is currently sitting in HQ's control room with Mayday in his lap, his face bright and smiling as she babbles at him. He's got her little hands in each of his own, lifting them one after the other as she stamps her feet.

"I know!" he says in response to her babbling, attention completely on the little girl. "It's crazy, right? Tell me more about it."

Mayday obliges, her babbling raising in both pitch and tempo like she really is going on a diatribe of some kind. She seems to be enjoying having a captive audience and isn't going to let it go to waste.

It's...well, Miguel really and truly has been stopped in his tracks. It's the first Omegean thing he's ever seen from Miles. Normally he's so contrarian and difficult, not to mention eager to jump into danger and equally as capable of actually handling it. You'd think he was an Alpha the way he behaves, small, lithe form be damned.

Seeing him like this, soft and sweet and smiling, his scent bright and nearly floral, is...doing things to Miguel. Bringing up feelings and urges that he's known were there, but which he'd been successfully keeping under lock and key.

Miles suddenly seems to become aware of Miguel's presence, and he looks up. His smile fades a little but it's a smile all the same, and Miguel's pretty sure Miles hasn't smiled at him since...well, everything. It looks good on him.

"Hey, wasn't sure when you were going to be back. Peter asked me to babysit for him though and I figured hanging out here would be better than taking her home with me. Not sure how I would explain that one to my folks."

The idea of someone mistakenly thinking Mayday is Miles’, that the Omega has a child, has been mated and more, makes Miguel’s nostrils flare. He clamps down ruthlessly on the reaction, knowing that if he doesn’t his interest will undoubtedly be noticeable in his scent.

“Just keep it down,” are the words that come off of Miguel’s tongue. They’re better than Do you want a child? or You’d make a good mother or, even worse, I could give you one of your own, if you want.

Miles’ smile turns into a frown and then an unhappy twist. He clicks his tongue, says, “Whatever, man,” and goes back to Mayday. He’s speaking quietly to her now but Miguel can pick up his own name and big meany and assh- wait I can’t say that to you.

Miguel just heads for his central computers, waking them up and logging into the system to check on how everything is running today. But he can’t help the way he watches Miles’ and Mayday’s reflections on the screen. He can’t pick up many details like this but he can still smell them. Happy, pleased Omega, and the young, innocent scent of a child unpresented. Of babe and mother.

Christ, Miguel is going to hell for this.

It’s been about an hour of Miguel pretending to work but actually getting very little done, when Miles speaks up. “Hey, Miguel, you know stuff about kids, right?”

Miguel’s shoulders hunch and he breathes out slowly. Of course he does. He turns, glaring back at Miles. Mayday has been dragging him around the room with her crawling and right now they’re both hanging upside down from the ceiling, Miles sitting cross legged and her on his shoulders.

“Yes,” Miguel says sharply.

Miles’ mouth twists, but for once it doesn’t seem like it’s directed at Miguel. “Sorry, that was kinda insensitive, huh? I was just curious, ya know, about parenthood and all.”

Another bolt of longing shoots through Miguel. It’s part arousal, part wistfulness for his lost family.

You could start again, part of him says. Children. A mate. It’s not too late for you. He’s right there.

“What do you want to know about it?”

Miles shrugs, which causes Mayday to wobble dangerously and laugh delightedly about it. “Just, is it good? Like, hanging out with Mayday is great, but I can’t imagine having one of my own.”

You don’t have to imagine, Miguel thinks, but says, “It’s different, when they’re yours.”

“How so?”

Miguel sighs and holds out his arms to Mayday. Even though she’s halfway across the room she immediately lets out an excited shriek and climbs her way down a protesting Miles’ body. It takes only a minute before she’s dropping into Miguel’s arms and then crawling all over him.

“Kids are work and energy,” Miguel explains. “When they’re someone else’s, you’re happy to give them back after a certain point. When they’re yours, even when you’re annoyed or upset with them, you still know it’s all worth it. You can’t imagine a life without them.”

“Oh,” says Miles. He watches quietly for a moment as Mayday continues her excited quest to make Miguel look as ridiculous as possible, before he too crawls across the ceiling and drops down. Sadly it’s not into Miguel’s arms like Mayday had.

Gingerly, Miles’ takes the little girl back, and she goes willingly enough. “Sorry if that was like, rude or anything. And don’t kill me for saying this but you sound like you make a really good Alpha, mate wise.”

Miles is halfway across the room again before Miguel can reply, like he really is expecting retaliation. Miguel just shakes his head and pretends to go back to his work.

I am a good Alpha he thinks. I could show you. We could have a whole litter of kids. You’d love it. And then inevitably Miguel’s thoughts turn lascivious. He ends up losing himself to a daydream about exactly how he wants to breed Miles (facing each other, his fangs buried in Miles’ throat, Miles’ flexible, coltish legs wrapped around his hips, heels digging in to coax Miguel into fucking him harder) while watching the Omega’s reflection.

He doesn’t come up for air until Peter makes his appearance. The man gives Miguel a quizzical look but is distracted quickly enough by his daughter. He sticks around long enough that Miguel does actually get some work done, and when his voice finally fades away Miguel figures he’s alone.

That is, until Miles clears his throat directly behind him.

Miguel doesn’t jump, but it’s a near thing. He turns and looks down at the Omega in annoyance, raising one eyebrow in a silent question.

Miles looks shifty, transferring his weight from one foot to the other like he’s thinking about running, but he’s got that mulish jut to his chin and a hard glint in his eyes that Miguel recognizes at the stubborn streak that’s lead them into more fights than he’d like to admit.

Is regularly wanting to throttle a teenage Omega better or worse than wanting to fuck him?

“Spit it out, kid,” Miguel eventually snaps.

Miles juts his chin out even further. “I’m not stupid,” he says, which, well he’s just inviting a scathing retort with that. Miguel’s expression must convey this because Miles rallies and goes on quickly, not giving the Alpha a chance to cut in. “I’m not! I saw how you were looking at me today, with Mayday. And then your scent…you were looking at me through the reflection on the computer screen.”

Miguel stiffens all over because fuck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grinds out.

“The hell you don’t! Even Peter smelled it. You’re into me, you smell like you want to jump me.”

There’s one of two ways Miguel can play this; deny it till his dying breath, or agree and pretend it doesn’t matter. His panicked brain picks the latter, because Miles isn’t stupid, and he’s tenacious as hell. He’ll hound Miguel until Miguel gives him an answer the Omega is satisfied with.

“So?” Miguel says.

That makes Miles pause, his eyes flicking back and forth between Miguel’s. He clearly isn’t seeing what he wants to though, brow knitting in confusion. “What do you mean ‘so’? So, you’re horny as hell for me.”

“You’re an Omega and I’m an Alpha,” Miguel explains slowly, like he’s speaking to a child. “It’s biology.” Which of course just ruffles Miles’ feathers and makes him puff up even more.

“That’s bullshit. You’ve never smelled like that before around me,” Miles insists.

Miguel is butting up against almost the exact same decision from before. Does he own up, or does he keep denying it means anything?

With a faint snarl of annoyance at having been put in this situation to begin with, Miguel says, “Most Alphas seeing an unbonded Omega with a young child are going to be affected.” The word horny will absolutely not be crossing his lips. “It sparks an instinct in us.”

Miles narrows his eyes, a faint smirk curling at his mouth. He thinks he’s won. “A breeding instinct,” he accuses.

Miguel turns his gaze skyward, giving a quick prayer to whichever poor saint is watching over him today to give him patience. “Yes, Miles. A breeding instinct.”

“I knew it!”

“Congratulations,” Miguel says dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now will you go away so I can do some work in peace?”

And there’s the chin jut again. Stubborn ass Omega. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The corner of Miguel’s lip twitches of up into an involuntarily snarl. “Well I’m done with you, malcriado. Vete.”

“No. I want to know if this was a one off,” Miles demands. “’Cause like, sure seeing an Omega with a kid might work for you, but my theory is that you’re already into me and it just pushed you over the edge. You’re too uptight to let your scent go wild like that unless you’re like, close to losing it.”

How the hell is this kid so damn perceptive? Clearly Miguel’s going to need to work on his defenses if Miles is reading him like a damn book. He sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose with two fingers, trying to figure out how to get out of this.

Well, he’s dug this fucking grave. Time to lie in it.

“Fine, Miles,” he says wearily, dropping his hand and making direct eye contact with the Omega. “Yes, I have more than a passing interest in you as a mate. Seeing you with Mayday made me think about having children with you myself. Are we done with this line of questioning now? Are you finally satisfied?”

Miles smiles slowly, then wrinkles his nose. “Having children with me, huh? That’s an incredibly boring way to talk about breeding. Why so family friendly? Just say you wanna fuck me. And no, by the way, I’m not satisfied yet. You gotta make good on all that before I let it drop.”

Silence reigns as Miguel’s brain just churns through the words, understanding them individually but failing to grasp the big picture.

“Not, like, immediately though!” Miles rushes to add, oblivious to Miguel’s plight. “I’m not ready for kids yet, not to mention my parents would kill me. But we could, you know, practice?” He looks stupidly hopeful, staring up at Miguel with that little smile on his lips, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.

“You…want me to breed you,” Miguel says slowly.

Miles snorts and rolls his eyes. “Well, practice breeding me. But yeah, that’s what I just said didn’t I? Get with it, old man, we’re wasting daylight here.”

Miguel’s never been one to follow orders. But how’s an Alpha supposed to resist?

#asks #requests #flowerfang #a/b/o #suggestive #probably more than just suggestive ngl

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falconearring · 9 months

Note

The way you draw Etho is so freakin GENDER!!!!! and I love your zombie au so much!!! Is there anything you've really wanted to talk about with the au that no one's asked about yet? :D

First of all, thank you for reading/enjoying the things I've been drawing!! Second of all, what I want to talk about could fill a novel or two, but I've settled on flowers today.

A couple months back, I decided to assign a handful of characters in the AU flowers. Mostly just for fun, but I do use them in my illustrations, and Joel and Lizzie's flower makes an appearance in the comic.

Technically, the meanings of some of the flowers below can change depending on color and who you ask. I chose whatever I jived with most.

Anyhow, here they are;

Cleo-Hyssop

In general this flower represents humility, repentance and sacrifice. I've seen in my travels that it's mentioned in the bible, in the context of cleansing/forgiveness. Fun hyssop fact, it's actually a garden herb from the mint family.

Etho-White Lily

White lilies are all over the place in terms of meanings and associations, so I'll only touch on what specifically applies. They're a popular funeral and wedding decoration. The color white is heavily associated with purity, but I chose these for their ties with death and rebirth. Them being a popular sympathy flower is a bonus, considering he's presumed dead for the majority of the comic.

Joel and Lizzie-Morning Glory

Morning glory has a handful of meanings, but the most popular ones are all centered around love; love in vain, undying love, sometimes even obsession. I like the way morning glory twists around things, it's one of my favorite flowers despite it's weed status. In general, morning glory is known to smother nearby plants and they require a lot of consistent effort to get rid of. This is pretty well known, but most morning glory blooms in the morning and closes in the evening.

Grian and Scar-Poppies

This is a really popular fandom thing already, and I think death and remembrance are really fitting for them. They're also closely associated with sleep, peace, undying love and sacrifice. I associate them very strongly with the Wizard of Oz, and that movie strikes a really great balance of nightmare and reverie for me.

Martyn-Hemlock

It feels weird to talk about characters I haven't introduced yet, but I'm doing it anyway for the prank of it all. In Victorian era flower language this flower is tied to the phrase 'You will be my death.' Hemlock is (allegedly) associated with dark arts like necromancy and it's generally seen as a sign of danger.

I only went ahead and chose flowers for people who have really important roles in the story, so apologies 75% of the characters aren't listed. Just a fun little list, I don't know if folks are as crazy about flowers as me, but anyways thanks for reading! Below is a lil scribble I did up on tracing paper back in February.

Take care!!

#falconearringzombieau #asks #life series au #ethoslab #i dont feel much like main tagging everyone mentioned

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officialaemondtargaryen · 1 year

Text

Home For The Holidays

Summary: Eddie's band is on tour and can't make it home for the holidays.

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader (can be read as gender neutral)

Word Count: 2.3k

Trigger Warning: Eddie and Dustin are conniving, per my usual works.

Author’s Note: Happy birthday, Sam (@felteppsters). This is the first part of your birthday/Christmas gift.

He said, "I'm not going to be able to make it."

When Eddie left for his first headlining tour, he made a promise to you that he would be home for just five days out of the six months that he would be on the road; a short break the week of Christmas so that the bands and crew were able to spend time with their families.

"They added more dates to the tour," he continued after a few moments of silence. He was calling from a payphone somewhere near Kansas City, and he could sense your disappointment even though he was over five hundred miles away.

You knew that it wasn't his fault. Corroded Coffin gained significant popularity after their last tour opening up for Metallica and the demand to see them was overwhelming. There were four new dates; Kansas City, Minneapolis, Denver, and Salt Lake, before the band got a one-day break for Christmas Day and were to be in Seattle on December 26th.

"Y/N," he sighed. "Say something."

"I know how much this means to you, Eddie." You told him, your voice doing nothing to hide the fact that your heart was in your stomach. "I'm so proud of you."

The line went quiet and you could hear the faint sound of static and Eddie's breathing in your ear. Your burning eyes fluttered shut at the sound, forcing a tear to drop to your cheek. You were proud of him. You at least hoped that he believed that. In the ten years that you had known Eddie and the four years that you had been dating, he had never once disappointed you- and the one time that he had, today, was out of his control.

"When I get ho-" You could hear Gareth's voice in the background yelling for Eddie to hurry up. "Shit, I have to go." He said, there was more yelling. "Shut the hell up! I'm coming! Gareth and Jeff need to call their folks."

"It's okay." You frowned.

"I love you," he said sincerely. "And Y/N? Nothing means more to me than you." The corners of your lips pulled up into a small smile.

"I love you, too!"

The phone line disconnected and you felt empty. All you could do was stare at the little Christmas tree that you had put up and decorated yourself and the presents underneath, all with his name on them. You had argued about whether or not you would put up the tree without him, as it had been a little tradition of yours since you had moved into this house with him three years ago. He wanted you to wait, you wanted him to come home to presents under the tree. You remember him laughing to himself over the phone, could practically picture him shaking his head, knowing that it was pointless to argue about it- you were going to do what you want.

A sigh escaped your lips as you wiped your dampened cheeks. It was a little past noon, and you were still in your pajamas. You had cleaned the house spotless for Eddie's arrival, leaving you nothing to keep your mind busy now that he wasn't going to be here.

You picked up the phone and dialed Robin, but her line immediately went busy. So you dialed Steve, but it should have been obvious to you that his line would also be busy. You dialed Nancy and Jonathan answered only to tell you that she was at work. Your head fell back with a frustrated groan.

"I think everyone forgot that it is my birthday." You muttered to yourself. "Even my own boyfriend."

The moment that you had conceded to spending the day on the couch, wallowing in your misery, in the same pajamas you had been wearing for two days while watching VHS Christmas movies, there was a knock on the front door. You hurried to the door and peered through the glass to see a very familiar head of curly hair standing on your front porch with his hands in his pockets.

"Dustin?" You asked as you hurriedly opened the door. "What are you doing here, wait- how did you get here?"

The younger boy looked at you quizzically before holding up a set of car keys. "I'm eighteen and I can drive."

"Shit," you laughed rubbing your eyes. "I sometimes forget that you're not fourteen anymore."

"So does my mom," he replied and shoved past you, making himself at home in your kitchen before you could even say 'come in'.

"Well, what's up?" You asked. "You know Eddie isn't going to make it home this week, right?"

"I heard", Dustin replied from inside your refrigerator. Your eyes narrowed. "I figured you were going to be super depressed since it's your birthday and all, so here I am!" He said turning to you and holding out his arms. "Damnit, all you have to eat is leftovers?" He moved over to your cabinets. "And cereal?"

"Sorry to disappoint you?"

That was when Dustin turned back to you and really took in your appearance. "You really are depressed, aren't you?"

"No, no." You huffed. "I'm not depressed. It's just early."

"It's almost one!" He objected. "Go change out of your PJ's and we can go get a pizza. My treat." You narrowed your eyes once more, wondering when this boy became an adult who felt like he could tell you what to do. "Well, go!"

"Okay!"

Not wanting to argue with him, you made a beeline to your bedroom and threw together an outfit. You emerged a few moments later and the younger boy was staring at your Christmas tree and shoving a handful of Froot Loops in his mouth.

"There's something missing." He said with his mouth full.

"I was waiting for Eddie to get home to put the star on top since I couldn't reach." You replied with a frown. "Maybe later I can get the step-stool out and you can put it on, Short-Stack."

"Screw you," he sneered. "I don't see anyone else offering to take you out to lunch on your birthday."

"You're absolutely right, kiddo." You laughed. "Let's go."

Dustin was able to keep your mind off Eddie for most of the day. He had taken you to the brand new Surfer Boy Pizza that had just opened up near the new mall in Hawkins before you both met up with Mike and El for a movie. Once Nancy had gotten off from work, she and Jonathan joined the four of you for dinner at Antonio's. She had asked about Steve and Robin, but Dustin made an excuse for the two of them. Truth be told, you had no clue where they were other than what Dustin told you, "they were otherwise engaged, but wished they were able to make it." The whole thing was odd, but you were just happy to not be alone on your birthday.

Jonathan had the idea to check out Christmas lights in Loch Nora as the sun began to set. You stopped at a gas station for some cheap hot chocolate which probably wasn't the best idea after the fact. Once you had driven through the entire neighborhood and the one over, you mentioned making your way home, but Dustin and Mike had other ideas.

"Why don't we all come over and play a game or something?" Dustin mentioned, inviting the entire party over to your house.

"Dustin, it's getting late, I don't think we have time for a D&D campaign tonight." You replied with a yawn.

"Come on, Y/N." Mike urged. "We're having such a great time, don't you want to end it on a high note?"

At this point you realized that something was up, you could not accept the fact that your jerky friends really just didn't want you to spend any part of your birthday alone, despite what they said.

"What the hell, sure!" You replied, throwing your hands up in defeat.

Dustin decided to take the long way home through another neighborhood because El mentioned that she would like to see more Christmas lights. Jonathan and Nancy followed closely behind in their own car as Dustin made his way through not one, not two, but three additional neighborhoods to see the lights.

When he finally pulled up to the curb outside of your house, you were exhausted. Keeping up with a bunch of teenagers took the life right out of you.

"I don't know how much fun I'm going to be," you mentioned as you unlocked the deadbolt. "But you're all welcome to stay for as long as you-"

"SURPRISE!"

The lights flickered on to reveal Robin, Steve, Lucas, Max, Erica, and Will with balloons and party hats and a cake that had way, too many candles on it.

"Before anything else happens," Robin stated. "Please blow out these candles so that they are no longer a fire hazard!"

You were utterly speechless as Steve ushered you over to the cake. "Make a wish!" He said softly as he put his arm around you.

You closed your eyes and made your wish.

And even though you knew that it was impossible, you still wished that Eddie could have been there.

"Happy Birthday!" Max yelled when you opened your eyes.

"How did you guys even get in here?" You said as you wrapped her up in a hug.

"I picked the lock, obviously." She shrugged as you moved to hug Lucas and Erica.

"She did not pick the lock," Steve added. "Because that would be breaking and entering and that's illegal, even if it would have been for a good cause." Max rolled her eyes and went to refill her cup.

"Where have you two been?" You asked Steve and Robin.

"We had to go pick up your gift!" Robin replied, hopping up on your counter and sticking her finger in the cake frosting.

"My gift?" You asked. "You didn't have to get me anything, your company is enough."

"Oh, we know." She replied with a sly smile. "This gift kind of forced our hand."

You looked at Steve for answers but he was looking over your shoulder. Your heart was hammering against your chest as you turned slowly to see Eddie standing in the middle of your living room with a silver bow sitting atop his head.

"How?" You gasped and before he could say anything, you leaped for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his middle.

"Hi," was all that he was able to say in between the hundred kisses that you placed upon his lips. "I missed you, too."

"You said that you weren't going to be able to make it!" You exclaimed. "You had a show tonight!"

"We were able to postpone it," he replied. "Another band took our place and we're going to honor the tickets on another date." He took your chin in between his index finger and thumb and made you look at him. "I made a promise to you, and even though I have to be at the airport at 6:00 AM tomorrow, I couldn't miss your birthday."

"I love you so much." You told him.

"I love you, too." He replied as he sealed a kiss to your lips.

One by one, your friends filtered out of your home. You thanked each and every one of them for the best birthday that you could have ever asked for and made plans for them to come over on Christmas Eve for dinner and presents.

"You planned this didn't you?" You asked Dustin as you stood at the front door with him. "You knew the whole time." He only shrugged before winking terribly. You pulled him in for a hug and raked your knuckles over his scalp before letting him go. "See ya later, Shorty."

He stepped out onto the front porch and turned back to give you the middle finger. "Happy birthday, Asshole."

You closed the door behind him and locked the deadbolt, turning to see Eddie standing at the Christmas tree. You came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, your head resting on his back. If you could just stay in this moment forever, and live in this happiness that you felt, you would. You would never let him go if you didn't have to.

"Babe, where's the star?" He asked curiously, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I couldn't reach it," you replied. "And it didn't feel right to finish without you."

He turned around to face you with your arms still wrapped around him. "You are so cute, you know?" He asked as he removed your arms from him and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

Eddie bent down to the box of Christmas decorations still sitting next to the tree and pulled out the star. He stuck it on top of the tree and plugged it into the outlet and suddenly the living room was filled with a beautiful yellow glow.

"Wait a minute," Eddie said, bending back down to the box of decorations. "You didn't want to put this ornament on the tree? But it's my favorite one!"

"Hm?" You turned to him to see Eddie on one knee with a dainty, diamond ring in his hands. "Oh," the breath was taken right out of your lungs. "Eddie-"

"Y/N," He began. "I wasn't planning on doing this until I got home from the tour, but I couldn't wait. When I said that there is nothing more important to me than you, I meant it. Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

"I was already planning on it." You replied excitedly, meeting his lips with yours.

Eddie slipped the ring over your finger and laced his fingers with yours. "Happy birthday, Y/N. I love you."

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