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ilykaveh · 1 year

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⭒ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ! I WANNA BE A WH0RE !

[ ALHAITHAM AS YOUR TUTOR . ]

content · fem ! reader, name calling, bimbo reader, alcohol mention, sub ! reader, teasing, degradation, manipulation, alhaitham is a bit toxic, in public, possessiveness, taking and sharing photos without consent, threesome mention, toy use.

· alhaitham hates socializing, let's make that clear. while you may have bumped into him a few times in the corridor or at mandatory school events, the first time that you actually met him was when you were over at his dorm.

· you'd spent a night at a frat party where you had bumped into his roommate, kaveh. the two of you hit it off over a few drinks and a couple of rounds of beer pong — before you knew it, you were on the way back to his place and getting a little bit handsy in the back of the uber ride.

· while you both intended on getting laid that evening, the reality was that kaveh passed out the moment that his head hit the pillow. regardless, you lay in his bed beside him, too tired to care, and fell asleep for the night.

· the next morning, you woke up to cold and unfamiliar sheets. upon checking your phone, you discovered that it was way past two p.m., and you’d missed your morning lecture. after picking up your discarded clothes and any other belongings, you stumbled into the common area whereby you were greeted by your stoic, grey-haired classmate.

· his nose was buried in a book as he sprawled out on the couch, and despite your efforts to make a stealthy exit, you knocked over a rather gaudy lamp. alhaitham’s quick reflexes surprised you as, without moving his gaze from the page, he reached out and grabbed the object before it could hit the ground. you stood there in shock for a moment as he looked at you up and down before breaking the silence, bluntly informing you that kaveh had a seminar to attend.

· the two of you made some light conversation, though it was really just alhaitham making short responses and you trying to be as polite as you could. in all honesty, the man was intrigued by you. he was used to girls in his classes being all over him as a result of his academic prowess and his above average physique. you, however… there was something special about you.

· he ended up inviting you to get some coffee and to go over the notes from the lecture that you missed, and of course you agreed, with the exception that you could go home first to get changed and grab your laptop. although it very clearly wasn’t a date, you hated going out without looking your very best. to your surprise, alhaitham walked you back to your dorm and waited for you to get yourself ready.

· alhaitham clearly overestimated how quickly he would be done with this. reviewing the material covered this morning would typically take him an hour at most, whereas now the pair of you were on your third round of coffee and barely approaching halfway. hell, he was wondering how you ever managed to get into university.

· ever the sceptic, he even debated whether or not you were simply faking your stupidity to get closer to him, but by the way that you left for the bathroom for the sixth- no, seventh time just to redo your lip gloss, he doubted that. how drunk did kaveh have to be to bring you home? maybe you were just an easy fuck; it seemed that much was apparent to alhaitham. he cursed under his breath as he found himself contemplating how much fun his roommate had had the night before with you. he wasn’t a sleeze, but you were practically parading yourself around like a piece of meat in that short pink skirt.

· one coffee date soon turned into permanent tutoring. alhaitham told himself that he was doing it for your good rather than any selfish reasons — surely it's better that you study with him instead of some pervert that would gladly take sex as a payment for their time, right? or at least, that's how it was at first.

· it didn't take too long for alhaitham to become frustrated with your incompetence. he'd explain a given subject three or four times, and you would barely understand the basics even then. everything came to head with him snapping and running his hands through his hair as he called you a good for nothing slut, even going as far as to (rhetorically) ask if you would do a better job if he questioned you whilst having you bent over the table and his cock buried deep inside your whore cunt.

· at first, you were slightly taken aback; it was strange to see a man that typically kept his emotions under lock and key display such an outburst. then you thought about it a little more… maybe he was just giving you a study tip! that sounded more like the alhaitham you knew! he'd never degrade you over nothing, would he?!

· so you did what any sane person would do (or rather, what you thought any sane person would do) and said that you could try that, if he thought that it would help. alhaitham internally rolled his eyes, mentally cursing you for being so astronomically gullible. but after all of the strain that you've put him through, the countless hours of revising powerpoints and testing you with his personal collection of flash cards… he agreed.

· a pg-rated study session soon transformed into something out of a cheap porno. alhaitham prepped you a little, making you sit on the desk that you were using while he fingered you, all the while he recited facts for you to repeat back to him. by the time that you were ready, having reached a point dangerously close to coming undone, he leaned back in his seat and patted his lap, motioning for you to sit on his muscular thigh.

· you didn’t even bother to put your panties back on as you sauntered over to sit on his lap. your skirt rode up, leaving your wet cunt exposed. alhaitham undid the button on his jeans and pulled out his half-hard cock. your jaw almost dropped at the sight of it - it was certainly thicker than any other dick you’d taken, though the length is really what made you drool. your tutor teased your neediness a little before presenting you his idea: he was going to quiz you on some of the material, and if you answered right, you’d get his cock. simple enough… right?

· however, it would be stupid for alhaitham not to take full advantage of the dripping cunt in front of him, and the needy little doll that came attached. every time that you got a question wrong, or if he caught you daydreaming about his cock, he’d punish you. it was lighter at first, for example he reached under your shirt and groped at your breast. after five… no, six, questions, you made the mistake of hesitating and the man grabbed the base of his cock, then slapping the appendage against your pussy. he only smirked as you whined and bucked your hips against him, only for him to remind you that he still had a couple more questions to ask you.

· it was over an hour before you finally got to the end of his impromptu exam, and your demeanour was now akin to a desperate puppy. a pout had taken over your features, and your eyes were becoming increasingly glassy with tears threatening to spill if you didn’t get what you wanted - alhaitham was merely amused by what a delightful situation he’d found himself in, a pretty bimbo sat on his lap and begging him to be touched. you were putty in his very hands, so he saw it fit to allow you to ride him - after all, he was the one doing you a favour, right?

· these little study sessions soon improved your grades, and you were over the moon! upon receiving your results, you ran up to the taller man, who had to catch you before you both toppled over onto the grass courtyard besides the lecture hall. although alhaitham knew that he should be happy for you, the improvement instilled a fear in him: if you were smart enough to get these grades on you own, perhaps you wouldn’t need him anymore.

· that little thought sowed the seed in his mind that soon turned into a fully framed plan. sure, some would argue that it was a little bit manipulative, but it was for your own good, so he wasn’t causing any harm… right? and it certainly wasn’t done with a single ounce of malice, and you seemed to enjoy this little arrangement, so he continued to reason with himself that everything was perfectly fine.

· alhaitham’s scheme was simple: amongst all of the correct information that he taught you during your study sessions, he’d pepper in a few incorrect tidbits. it would prevent you from ever hitting full marks, and you could continue getting your pretty princess cunt stuffed full three or four times a week. he hated to admit it, but your adorable face as he pinned you down against his mattress and rutted into you whilst you recited what you’ve learnt to him. he always made sure that you thanked him for being such a wonderful tutor, and he even fucked you so good that you would agree with every single degrading phrase that slipped past his lips; it ranged from how you really were only good for getting fucked and that maybe you should drop out and become a full time whore to him reminding you that the only way you ever learnt anything was by spreading your legs.

· before you knew it, you were completely and utterly wrapped around alhaitham’s finger. you agreed to anything that he said if he promised that it would help you become smarter and would improve your grades! you even heard him out (and later went along with his plans) when he presented you with a cute pink dildo that you could slip into your panties before a test, and the idea was that you would recall answers easier because you were so used to learning with your cunt wrapped around his own cock.

· that being said, alhaitham was equally enamoured with you. he slowly allowed you to coax him out of his reclusive shell without even realising it himself. you would drag him along to social gatherings and parties - he told himself that he was doing it with your best interest at heart, after all anything could happen to such a dimwitted sweetheart like yourself, especially when you saw nothing wrong with wearing a miniskirt and a crop top out in the february cold. and no, it wasn’t like those fishnet tights or obnoxiously large white boots were doing anything to keep you warm at all.

· various classmates and other students on campus soon had you pegged as alhaitham’s girl, the precious, doe-eyed lamb that followed him around wherever he went and vice versa. other men were too scared to approach you as you had a scowling, grey-haired guard dog few paces behind you shooting them a death glare, and all the girls were insanely jealous about how you managed to bag the man that they’d been fawning over for so long. they even went as far as to gossip about how loose your cunt must be considering you’ve slept with half the guys on campus before him, and that you’d probably get bored and jump onto the next cock within a matter of weeks. alhaitham was quick to ensure that you never heard any of this, no matter how true the aforementioned statements were. a quick few threats here and a him flashing a picture that he’d secretly taken of your cunt struggling to take his cock shut them up rather fast.

· the only person that alhaitham allowed to hear you fuck though, was his roommate. in fact, he’d specifically speed up his pace in order to force louder noises out of your sweet throat in order to remind kaveh of what he had missed out on. he wasn’t totally mean though, no. because alhaitham promised that if you managed to pass this year’s finals, he’d let the blonde join in on your fun for an evening.

#alhaitham drabble #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #delilah.docs

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delirious-donna · 2 years

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Sit Still [Jujutsu Kaisen]

an: a huge thanks to my bestie and wifey-to-be, @tired-biscuit, for supplying the thirstiest of thoughts ^^

prompt: cockwarming is such a simple pleasure with your handsome fella...

feat: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji & Fushiguro Megumi

warnings: cockwarming (obvs), lil nipple play, semi public, teasing, implied sex

Masterlist

Gojo Satoru

A hand spreads your thighs further part.

Nothing escapes that man, and the way your legs had been inching closed was halted by the warm palm on your bare flesh. Fingers kneading, clearly enjoying the little indentations made into your yielding softness.

"You think I don't notice baby?" he murmurs in your ear.

Gojo's warm breath sends shivers skittering across your dewy sweat-slicked skin.

How long had you sat here? How long had it been since he had impaled you on his thick cock and let you suffer?

You both loved and hated it; loved how full you felt, stuffed completely with that deliciously curved and girthy dick, but hated the absence of repeated friction and the static limbo you were imprisoned in.

“S-satoru,” you whined, practically throwing your head against his strong shoulder - a shoulder that was still clothed, unlike you.

The snowy-haired male was fully dressed, except for his cock that escaped through his lowered zip. You, on the other hand, had been stripped of your skimpy sundress the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“Uh-oh - using my full name? Am I in trouble baby? Call me Toru, you know how much I prefer it from your lips.”

Satoru ghosted his mouth over your pulse, sweeping across your shoulder and down your back as far he could reach without moving.

He gifted you one - precisely one - circle of his hips and you near exploded. A hand flew to hold his white locks as the other turned white with how tightly you gripped his arm.

It almost felt like you could sense his heartbeat throbbing through his dick, twitching in that annoyingly erratic rhythm and causing your cunt to clench tighter and tighter.

“Please Toru, want you to fuck me!”

He hummed softly, the weight of his celestial eyes seared into your soul despite how little you could see from your position on his lap. Gojo picked up his phone that lay idly on the couch cushions.

“If you can make it through my phone call with Geto without moving, I’ll give you everything you want and more.”

You could scream, pound your fists on his chest in frustration but goddammit you wanted to be good for him. The meek nod pleased him as the quiet chuckle brushed against your nerves.

“That’s my good girl - now sit still.”

Nanami Kento

You had done this a hundred times, and yet it still felt as fresh as the very first.

Nothing could ever make you feel unaffected by the way Nanami’s warmth spread throughout your body.

It was early, you should be finishing your morning routine before heading to work, but instead you were in Nanami’s home office.

The tight grey pencil skirt that you knew he adored was hiked around your waist, panties slipped to the side and your cunt stretched around your man’s cock.

A finger toyed with your clit, a mere swipe of the pad that tickled at your sensitive bud while he read the morning paper.

You tried to focus on the words, tried to follow the articles but you couldn’t find the desire to care, not when you felt this good.

Kento pressed a kiss to your temple, pleasure dancing in your veins as dopamine flooded you. Your nose pressed into his neck, inhaling his spicy scent and mewling from the little jolt caused by the turning of the page.

“Kento, please.”

It was a dance at this point, a well-rehearsed two-step.

You would whine and beg Kento to have mercy, to give you the good morning fuck that you craved to help you make it through the day without murdering a colleague.

He would allow you to sink onto his equally as eager erection under the guise of it being a small inconvenience. Culminating in Nanami finally snapping, pressing you flush against the desk as he pounded your gushing cunt until you were both spent and breathless.

The paper fluttered to the desk, a hand wrapped around your delicate throat. Finger and thumb pressed into each cheek until your mouth popped open into a surprised ‘o’.

Your heart rate accelerated from this change in proceedings, slick escaped from your sopping hole, drenching your thighs and most likely ruining Kento’s expensive slacks.

His faint smile pressed against your neck, followed by a hot tongue laving a path across your pulse and up to your ear.

“Hmm, sweetheart. I think you’ve gotten a little too used to getting your way with me, I think it’s time to remind you that I am not always a merciful man.”

You tried to squirm, to find the friction that he was daring to deny you, but you were held fast by strong arms.

“Sit still sweetheart. I’ve got work to do.”

Itadori Yuji

Pink hair, soft and damp around the edges falls to your breast. The guttural groan of Yuji’s orgasm lingers in the air, mingling with the heavy scent of sex.

Your cunt continues to clench in an attempt to milk him dry, a combination of yours and his arousal trickling out to coat your thighs and soil the sheets below.

Your descent back to earth is slow, the blissful weightless sensation better than any other adrenaline-pumping activity you could think of.

The twitch of Yuji’s well-endowed manhood made your thighs spasm, toes curling into his tight butt.

Nothing could beat the feeling of cradling your adorable beau to your body as only a lover could. Dainty digits scratched against his scalp whilst the other hand drew patterns on his rippling back.

“Mm, babe. Fuck - you feel so good. Never wanna leave,” he groans into your chest, his cheek nuzzling your sensitive skin.

Itadori seems content to remain buried in your warmth, happy to stay joined as his nose rubbed against your nipple.

“Yuji,” you moaned, every nerve ending screaming from the start of overstimulation.

Insistent lips latched around your pebbled peak, a hot tongue swirls around the flesh until a string of saliva connected his mouth to your skin as he pulled back to gaze at you.

“Sssh,” he cooed, giving a soft thrust to remind you that he was still very much hard and willing to use his cock to fuck you dumb, “just wanna feel you a little longer.”

The warmth in your belly returns at full force, Yuji repeats his ministrations on your other nipple but this time biting gently at your flesh.

You want to writhe, to buck your hips and create that sense of urgency that might spur your beau into another round. Anything to end this stalemate, the weight of his presence in your cunt is addicting and mania-inducing.

“Baby, please. Need you to move - aah.”

You gasp as he tugs on either nipple in tandem, hands holding you against the mattress to restrict your every attempted movement.

Yuji is lost in his need to feel you around him, how snug he is embraced in your heat, how utterly loved he feels from your rapid pants and the way you tug at his hair. The desperation to lace your voice makes him want to roll his eyes to the back of his skull, but he won’t.

His hazelnut eyes watch your face, loving every expression that paints across the pretty surface. The blush of your cheeks increases until you are bright red and sweaty. The poke of your tongue through clenched teeth and the completely fucked out glaze of your eyes.

Yuji could do this all day if you let him, and he certainly wanted to for at least a little while longer.

“So pretty for me, stay still and let me feel you.”

Fushiguro Megumi

It’s a dangerous game, one you never thought Megumi would be up for playing, but here you were.

The room was dark, the only light emitted from the projector screen taped against the far wall.

You tried to remember the plot of the movie, to follow along with what was happening but it was impossible.

Open-mouthed kisses spread out from your cheek down to your shoulder, dark spiky hair obscuring part of your view as Megumi showered you in affection.

You rutted your hips, only an inch but it was enough for the almost silent groan to echo from the depths of his chest. A chest that was pressed flush against your back as he held you steady in his lap.

Teeth latched on your ear, tugging the lobe before a strained and quiet voice flowed inside.

“That was naughty, kitten. Do you want to get caught?” he asked, and the very idea of one of your friends turning their attention to the sofa that only you two occupied made your cunt clench.

The sharp inhale of breath was more audible this time, and you fought to squirm against the hold that was tightening with every passing second.

Megumi’s thick cock rubbed deliciously against your front walls, turning the dial up on how feral you were becoming.

Your man was too perfect, too adept at turning you on with the merest flick of his wrist. Fushiguro was not one for big flashy moves and he certainly did not need them when a slow, almost imperceptible smile and a crook of a finger was enough to turn you to putty in his hand.

Had you been alone you would be rutted against him as if you were a damn feline in heat. Mewled and leaned for what you needed and that was to be fucked out on his impressive dick.

Instead, you tried to steady your breathing. Tried to ignore how every minuscule movement was ticking you closer to forgetting to give a fuck that others were present.

Fingers splayed beneath the hem of your skirt, the graze of the pad against your aching clit was enough to make you bite your lip until the iron tang of blood hit your tongue.

Warm breath fanned your cheek, lips so close to your ear that they tickled.

“Make it through the movie, kitten. Then I promise I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk straight, okay?”

You could only nod, all words and use of your voice could not be trusted. It was imperative you last, that you make it through and receive your reward.

Megumi smiled against your pulse, nipping at the wild beat beneath the skin.

“That’s it, sit still.”

#delirious writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #jjk men #gojo satoru #nanami kento #itadori yūji #fushiguro megumi #gojo smut #nanami smut #itadori smut #megumi smut #gojo sensei #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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bellarkeselection · 6 months

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Hey love your page I was wondering if I could have a John request where your the new horse trainer and slowly reader and John fall for each other maybe Beth doesn’t trust her but Kacey likes her ?

Opinions of our Horse Trainer

Twirling the rope in my right hand I held onto the end of the rope with my left. Clicking my tongue I watched the horse quickly running around me in circles. I had been working for the Dutton family for a quite a few months now. Since John Dutton’s youngest son had taken on the position of Livestock Commissioner so they needed someone else to break in the new horses that would come in and I was hired. “Come on, boy. You wanna come at me then let’s go.” I taunted the horse causing the horse to charge at me so I ran climbing up the fence and the horse hit the wooden fence.

“Are you crying to make him want to kick your ass?” Turning my head around I heard a woman’s voice and recognized a girl with her blonde hair. She stood on the outside of the fence wearing a white and grey dress and some heels. “Cause I don’t think you want to piss a horse off sweetheart.”

My hair fell in front of my eyes, and my tan cowgirl hat was close to falling off my head when I was eyeing John's daughter. "You've got to knock the defiance out of him somehow."

"If you say so. I've just decided not to go anywhere near those things...not anymore at least." Beth shook her head at me, pulling out a cigarette.

Swinging my legs over the wooden fence, I climbed back down into the wooden fence, clicking my tongue to get the horses attention again. "Berh, I hate to say this but can you just say what you want to say because I should get back to work here."

"I'm just trying to see what your intentions are with my father." She said quickly before leaving and heading towards the white barn. I saw that John was coming from the barn, but I couldn’t hear their conversation. She smiled at her father. "Hi, Daddy."

John paused in his tracks. "Morning honey, what were you talking with Y/n about?"

"Just trying to see what you see in her exactly." She shrugged her shoulders.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uh! Beth, don't do this. I don't want to have this conversation with you."

"I loved my mother and it just seems odd for you to be with anyone but her. Even though she's dead." His daughter explained hearing footsteps coming towards the entrance of the barn.

John ran his hands down his face, not thinking this was how his morning was going to start. He removed his cowboy hat, running his fingers through his grey hair, finally seeing that it was Kayce coming towards them. "What are you two talking about this morning?" Kayce asked, tugging his horse to a stop in the doorway.

"How dad is trying to sleep with someone else who will never be as wonderful as our mother." Beth rolled her eyes, kicking some dirt with the edge of her heel.

John cursed under his breath. "Shit, Bethany!"

"Beth, I get that you'll still love our mother. But dad should be able to date other women." The youngest son said back.

The Dutton girl scoffed. "Are you serious, little brother!"

"Yeah, I am, sister. Our father should be able to be happy just like he wants us all to be. He shouldn't just be trying to maintain this ranch without having some sort of love life away from all the work." Kayce declared at his sister, wanting her to see his side of things.

She crossed her arms over her chest, letting silence fill the wooden barn for a few seconds. "So what are we just supposed to be okay with this?"

"Yeah, unless it all goes to hell in the end. But let him try and be happy with someone until the day he gets to be with our mother again." Kayce nodded, tipping his hat at the pair walking forward to put his horse in the stall.

John patted his son on the back when he walked past. "Thank you, son." He then walked in the direction of the wooden fence training area to watch Y/n as she had the horse right where she wanted it to be.

Holding one hand on the top of my head so it wouldn't fall off, the horse slowly bowed its head to me. Raising my free hand, I slumped my shoulders, not noticing John just yet. "There you go, boy. You’re a good horse. You'll do just fine now."

"Y/n, he rather likes you. And he certainly ain't the only one." John tells me with a kind smile, leaning his arms against the wooden fence.

Brushing my fingers through the horse's mane he made a noise where I focused my attention back to John. Leaving the horse I leaned my body against the fence sending him a wink. "Are you asking me to dinner, Dutton. I don't quite think you're daughter would like that very much."

John groaned slightly when he began climbing over the fence and dropped down on the other side in front of me. "To be honest with ya, darling. I don't really care what they think. So if you'll go on a date with me then let's just do it and to hell what they think."

Stepping forward I dropped the rope in my hands cupping his face in my hands and kissed him out of nowhere. "To hell with what they say it is then, John." I mumbled before he drew Mr back in for another kiss not bothered by the knowledge that Beth and Kayce were watching.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list @whateverthecostner @the-morning-star-falls @rosie-posie08 @hcwthewestwaswcn @kcloveswrestling @kaymudd @nettysworld-madisonclark @elenavampire21

#john dutton one shot #john dutton imagine #john dutton x reader #john dutton #kevin costner #yellowstone x reader #yellowstone series #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone masterlist #yellowstone #beth dutton #kayce dutton #horse trainer #dutton ranch #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

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petriwriting · 6 months

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Memories - Sirius Black X Reader

Summary: Harry finds an old notebook that belonged to Sirius during his Hogwarts days. In his scruffy handwriting, in an old dusty journal found in Sirius's bedroom is the story of Sirius' first real love.

A/N: Fluff, nostalgia, a little bit of angst if you look too hard. The reader is feminine, using she/her pronouns. Oneshot - blurb is very short but very sweet.

I made a friend today on the train to Hogwarts. She is very sweet and seems very nice. She had a ribbon in her hair, I thought that she looked nice. we talked and she said that she liked my hair too. I also made some new friends. I got sorted into Gryffindor house, it's crazy since my family is all from Slytherin house. I'm sure Mother will be so upset. She is always upset about something.

Harry read aloud to his curious friends, Hermione leaned over his shoulder curiously to look at the small dark grey journal, it was tatted beaten-down bound with leather, covered in dust, but well used.

"Keep reading, Harry," Hermione said gently, knowing that he wasn't reading it with malicious intent, but instead in an attempt to feel closer to his godfather. he turned a few pages until a page caught his eye, and began reading once more.

Reg and I got into a quarrel over some things that didn't really matter. he says I should be more concerned with our family. Reg and I used to be close, but after my third year, he became cold. I love my brother, but I hate to see him hanging around those gits. Malfoy in particular, but I know he is happy now as he has joined the Slytherin team. he's their seeker, but he's no match for Gryffindor this year.

This entry made Harry smile slightly, and chuckle. he continued to flip pages, it was heartwarming. He turned the pages, looking through some messy potions class notes and annotations, and an entry about the marauders map, and how he saw Peter Pettigrew (Wormtail.) sneaking out every night to sneak food from the kitchens. One page, in particular, caught his eye.

I Love Her.

I have loved her every day I've known her. She is brilliant, her eyes sparkle when she speaks, her smile is so bright it lights up the room as if you'd cast Lumos. She's incredibly intelligent, but kind. She's always been gentle with me. I've never met another like her.

I wish that I could make this all go away. All the secrets, the war, the hatred. I wish we could start a family one day, live in a little cottage, and raise children far away from here. We'd visit James and Lily every Christmas, and Remus on halloween. I could give her my mother's ring. I doubt Regulus would mind. We could be so happy. I remember the first day we met. I think i knew then that she was special. She has been unconditionally devoted to me. The night my mother burned my name off our family tree she held me in her arms as i cried and i finally felt what home is supposed to feel like. I wrote her a letter, expressing my yearning for her. I plan to give it to her very soon, along with a locket I picked out. Lily insisted on the dainty silver chain with a locket of our picture from our first year together, she even helped me enchant to image to capture y/n's smile as she sat next to me. she say's it's sentimental, and that girls like this sort of thing.

I never had a home, truly. just four walls surrounding me. My own mother disgraced my name, Regulus has been absent in my life. I'm thankful for my friends but my love for y/n is like no other. i just wish want her to feel the way i do, i hope she does. With everything, she can not get involved it's too dangerous. But I will love her anyway. The kind of love that could break the most heinous curse.

Harry stood for a moment, looking over his godfather's handwriting. it was sentimental. "I wonder if we could find her," Harry offered hopefully. "There's no mention of a last name." Ron pointed out. "I'm sure we could ask someone, if she knew the black family she can't be too terribly hard to find," Hermione said, offering a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "I think Sirius would love that."

#my writing #reader insert #hp x reader #x reader #slytherin x reader #hp #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius and regulus #sirius orion black #sirius being sirius #padfoot #james potter #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus

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archgabrielangel · 8 months

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things Rick Riordan is a coward for doing/for not doing: a list:)

taking away percabeths grey hair streaks

not making Blitzstone canon in mcga (richard you had one job)

not making leo aroace and having one of his arcs involve him realizing he doesn't need a romantic relationship, could also include an arc for calypso(also i am an active caleo hater im so sorry)

making sadie x anubis canon???? gross dude

not including Grover in heroes of olympus like, at all

not really diving into percy and annabeths trauma after tartarus (i zoned out half way through my hoo reread so I don't remember if their trauma was talked about like at all💀)

not confirming in canon that will solace has a country accent (hc all you want but I need it in writing, I yearn to be right)

not giving Luke more screen time (book time? page time??? im a luke apologist, sue me)

not giving Reyna and Octavian a brother/sister relationship (like, ik we all hate octavian, and rightly so, but dude. they basically grew up together and no matter how unsufferable he is, they have history. they deserve a constantly bickering siblings dynamic)

taking away Annabeths dagger and daedalus' laptop in Mark of Athena (first of all, why? and that dagger was the last thing annabeth had of luke:( besides like, trauma but cmon)

doing whatever he did with my girl Drew Tanaka like dude😭 she deserved way better, it felt like she was only that way to promote pipers not-like-other-girls attitude

not exploring megs interest in piano more. we could've gotten a cute brother/sister moment between her and lester, we were robbed:(

#I will be adding to this #feel free to add more:)#also ik some will disagree but that's alr #I've probably angered the caleo shippers I'm sorry💀#percy jackson #grover underwood #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo #rick riordan #riordanverse #mcga #the kane chronicles #tkc

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shadowbriar · 1 year

Text

Sirius Black - Dare You

Pairing : (F/M) || Sirius Black x Reader Word Count : 2.7k Warning : Drowning. Sirius being an idiot. I hate him. Prompts : “I couldn’t decide whether to kiss or kick you.” || “Oh? Oh.” Notes : I don’t really like Sirius in this story, he’s borderline toxic but he’s cute in the end, so I forgive him. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Happy tears and laughter would be the two main things that filled the group of friends’ summer break. Agreeing to join the Marauders and staying over at the Potter’s summer house would be one of the best decisions she’s made in her entire life. From the moment she stepped in the place, she knew that the days spent would be one of her greatest days, and she has been proven right so far.

Now they’re seated in a circle, cheeks rosy from gulping down the bottles of booze James was so kind to provide. Her knees were grazing with his, sending jolts of electricity through her spine. He was laughing, being the most beautiful version of himself in her eyes. She always loved to see him beaming in laughter. The way his hair would fall on his face, hiding the piercing grey eyes that would always strip her soul whenever they’re locked on hers. Sirius Black is the definition of magnificence indeed.

If she should ever point one flaw from him it would be the fact that he wasn’t hers. Sirius has always been so carefree, so nonchalant with every aspect of his life, including romance. As bitter as she should admit, there must be no girl in the castle that hasn't tasted those pink lips of his. No girl except her, of course.

“So, will tonight finally be my lucky night?” Sirius whispers to her ears “Can I finally land the chance of tasting those lips of yours?”

“Not with your alcoholic breath, you’re not.” She says, pushing him away in a friendly manner “You’ll never kiss me, Sirius.”

The boy pouts, “Why not? Everyone else would.”

Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Everyone would and everyone had. She wouldn’t have any problem with his past lovers. No, the problem wasn’t of his long list of ex-lovers. It was the fact that he never meant the kiss he shared with anyone. And even though she would kill to have him kiss her, knowing that she would just be another tally to his list never sits right with her. Not when she holds the purest and most loving feelings for him.

“I bet you ten galleons we’ll have our kiss before this break is over.” He continues, still having that confident smug expression on his face “I’ll get it, one way or another.”

She snorts, “I’d love to see you try.”

“Oh, I will try, alright.” He nods in determination “Wouldn’t you be so kind and give me mental support? Small kiss on my cheek, perhaps?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Sirius!” Lily exclaims, making the two turn to the red girl “Your turn.”

“Oh, Merlin.” He mutters.

“I’ve got one.” Marlene says, her mischievous expression plastered all over her face “Never have I ever fancied someone in this room. And I meant by full on whipped, down bad, would kill for that person kind of fancy.”

James groans, “Come on, now, we all know the answer to that!”

“Do we?” Mary comments, her brows furrow “Cause I don’t.”

“I don’t either.” Lily says with the same confused tone, glancing at her boyfriend with a ‘you better explain later’ look before turning back to the raven haired boy “So have you or have you never, Sirius?”

“Of course, I have.”

“No,” The girl next to him gasps, making a disbelieved look “Who?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Dove.” He winks “Right, spin the bottle again!”

She was stunned. So much secret for someone who seemed to have always been an open book for her. And what did he mean she wouldn’t have believed it? Would the person be someone she would least expect? Could it be Dorcas, though she’s been with Marlene for the longest time? Or could it be one of the Marauders? Or could it be Lily, the girl his best friend has been pining for years?

So many possibilities for such a vague answer.

“Stop staring at me.” Sirius says smugly “You’ll fall in love if you don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, “Who?”

“Not telling.”

“Oh, come on!” She whines, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater “Who is it? Who did you fancy?”

He turns to see her, smirking, “I’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”

“No.” She frowns “Never.”

“Your lost.” He snorts, acting offended “Could’ve been the best night of our lives.”

Indeed it could’ve been the best night of their lives, well her life for sure, she wouldn’t know if it would leave any remark for him. Being friends with Sirius for years had made her certain that the boy could never hold half as deep of a devotion as hers, yet with the new half confession he made, she’s starting to question everything she knew. Who could be the lucky soul he’s hoard feelings for?

—-

The sun was shining bright, birds chirping as if they were singing a pleasant song. If she should choose one thing she loves most about the Potter’s summer house, it would be their pool and the sun loungers around it. She loves feeling the warmth of the sun while listening to the banter her friends exchange or taking a quick dip to the pool to cool herself from the heat. All and all, the time spent at the pool has always been the pleasant highlight of her day.

Until today.

Her eyes were closed, the sunglasses she’s wearing don’t seem to do much of a help to block the striking light. Her skin was getting red, slightly burnt from the sun, but she wasn’t in the mood to move from her seat. It’s not like everyday she could sunbathe like this.

“Help! Someone!” A voice yelled, making her sit straight up “Help, he’s not breathing!”

She turned to the source of voice, Peter, frantically shaking Sirius’ soaked body.

“What happened?” She asks as she gets to the two, kneeling behind Sirius’ limp body “Sirius, wake up!”

In a panic, she begins to tilt his head and perform CPR on the unconscious boy. Her body was trembling in fear, afraid of all the bad possible outcomes of such a disaster. Worry and fright pollutes her mind that she didn’t even think for a second that Sirius is a brilliant swimmer. There would be no logical way to explain how such a skilled boy could drown in a pool that’s not even as deep as his height.

She begins mouth to mouth, counting on the seconds before doing the press on his chest. She begins with a light one, afraid of giving him too much pressure. Yet before she could do a third press to his chest, the boy bursts into laughter.

“You’re tickling me.” He exclaims, now sitting up as if nothing has happened “Merlin, I should’ve done this years ago.”

She pulled away, looking appalled and baffled at the situation, “You were- I thought- What’s just happened?”

“You kissed me.”

“What?”

“I said, you kissed me.” He said with a victorious smile “Told you we’d have that kiss before the break’s over.”

She blinks, letting out a disbelieved chuckle from the stunt he’s pulled, “You’re a dickhead, Sirius.”

She stands from her spot, walking away in angry steps. How dare he trick her that way? How dare he scared her to death, only to taunt her with the kiss that he obviously had no remarks of? How dare he hurt her this way?

“Wait, Love, I’m sorry.” Sirius called, trying to catch her “Hey-”

“Is everything a joke for you?!” She snaps, turning to him with teary eyes now.

Sirius gulped, understanding that he’s taken it too far this time.

“Do you understand the horror I felt? Thinking that you really drowned? Thinking that you’re really not breathing? Do you even understand how terrifying it was, Sirius?!”

He winces, her shouting was making the others to come out of the house, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Everything’s just a joke for you, isn’t it?” She says with a quivering voice, yanking his hand away from her “Just fuck off, okay!”

The group of friends gasps. Sure she’s never been a saint but she’s never spat on anyone, not unless they were exchanging a banter. They knew that Sirius had crossed the line this time, whatever he did. Just perfect to turn their blissful getaway into a living nightmare now.

—-

She’s been staying in her room, sulking over her pathetic state. Exactly why did her heart have to choose him? Why couldn’t she just fall for a more grounded boy? One who would be more careful with her heart. One who would take care of her gently. One who would never be as careless as Sirius is.

It was never meant to be, she knew it. From the beginning she could already taste the bitter ending her infatuation would lead her. Sirius would never take her more than a friend, let alone reciprocate her feelings. He’s never wanted to be tied to someone else. He’s never wanted to settle down with someone. He’s never wanted to grow old and spend the rest of their lives together. No, that was never and would never be Sirius.

But why is it so hard for her to hate him? All the tears shed over this morning’s incident was not of her hatred for him, it was for her hatred towards herself. How could she be so foolish to still love him, even after everything? Even after every blatant evidence that he would never be the one for her?

A soft knock was made from the other side of the door. Perhaps it was Lily again, coaxing her to get out of the room and take her dinner. She hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast, after all. Yet her appetite has gone out of the window and she certainly isn’t in the mood to meet anyone tonight.

“Love?” He says softly “It’s me. Would you please open the door so we could talk?”

Her head turns, not expecting to hear his voice.

“Pease?” He begs, knocking on the door once more “It wouldn’t take much of your time, I promise.”

Sniffling, she finds her feet closer to the door. Her brain was cursing her for it, for giving in so easily after everything he’s done, but her heart could never bear the plea in his tone. He knew exactly how to crumble her fortress with just one pleading. Another thing to add on the things that make her so pathetic tonight.

“What do you want?”

Sirius’ expression softens, noticing her still wet cheeks and the heartbroken expression she has all over her face, “Can we talk?”

She didn’t say a word as she walked back inside the room, not closing the door in a gesture for him to come. He did, quietly closing the door behind him and standing a few metres away from her, not wanting to invade her sheer tolerance for him.

“I’m sorry,” He starts “For everything this morning, I’m really sorry.”

She remains quiet, watching him as she tries to decipher his words.

“I thought it was a harmless prank, I didn’t think it through, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you so obsessed with wanting to kiss me, Sirius?” She asks, her voice still barely above a whisper “Am I one of the girls in your dating conquest?”

“No, no, of course not!” He exclaims fast, taking a few steps closer to her “I have never intended for you to feel that way. You’re far from the girls I ever dated from. You’re my friend, you're worth so much more than all of them combined.”

And there it is. A friend. His friend. As much as it relieves her to know that he thinks of her preciously, the bitter truth still hurts. She knew that he only sees her as a friend, she knew these all along. Yet having the confirmation served to her face now brought a whole different level of heartache she didn’t know one could even suffer from.

“Alright.” She says with a sharp breath, trying to maintain her composure so not to crumble completely in front of him “I forgive you. Would that be all?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Sirius turns his body, walking closer to the door before shaking his head and facing her again, “No, actually that’s not all.”

She raised an eyebrow, confused by his demeanour.

“I suppose I have to tell you the real reason why I’m so desperate to kiss you.”

“Okay,” She nods lightly, still not following the direction he’s heading “I’m all ears.”

“I like you.” He blurts “I like you, I love you, I want you, I pine for you, Merlin, I’m desperate for you.”

She blinks, taken aback by his confession.

“I’m the worst at showing my true intentions, believe me the boys have scolded me for years for it but I really don’t know what to do with all these emotions. I yearn for you and it’s maddening that you’re not mine and that I couldn’t kiss you or that I couldn’t hold you anytime I want.”

She’s still mute, trying to digest each of his words.

“I’m sorry for being the pathetic loser that I am. I know that you must hate me for everything. For being this pitiful and foolish with the whole dating quest but I tried, truly I tried to wriggle myself out of these feelings and I can’t. Everytime I try my best to suppress these feelings, it would only spit on my face and amplify instead.” He confessed, looking defeated and desperate from his own torment “So I beg you, please get me out of this. Please get me out of this torture.”

“And how would I do that?”

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I don’t know. Yell at me, tell me that I’m an idiot and that you hate me for ruining our friendship. Tell me that I’m the most pathetic bloke there is and that you’ll never reciprocate my feelings. Tell me that you’ll never love me.”

“Is that truly what you want?”

“No, but there really isn’t any other way, is there?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, perhaps there is.”

Now it’s his turn to have his brows furrowed in confusion.

“The person you fancied, it was me?” She asks, trying to make sure that she wasn’t lost in translation “You fancy me?”

“Fancy is a far understating word, but yes, it was you. It’s always been you.” He reaffirms “And I never said I stopped fancying you. You’re the one who thought I no longer do.”

“Oh? Oh.”

An awkward silence fell between the two. As she tries to process his confession, Sirius is put on edge. He’s never seen her with such mannerism, so hard for him to understand what she would say next or what she’s thinking. He hoped that she would break his heart. Utter all the worst words she could probably say, he hoped that she would crush his heart to pieces, because otherwise he knew that he’ll be stuck loving the girl who doesn’t feel the same way about him.

“Is that all you could say? Oh?” He asked, still nervous of her response.

“So far, yes.”

He nods, “Right.”

“Do you really mean it?’

“Which part?”

“Every part.”

“I did.” He answers firmly, gulping “Except for the part where I wanted you to break my heart. I hope you wouldn’t, but there’s no other way for me to get out of these feelings, so if you would.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, completely lost from her words now.

“Merlin, I couldn’t decide whether to kiss or kick you.” She says with a bitter chuckle, running a hand through her hair “You stress me so much, do you know that?”

“I’m sorry?” He apologises “I think?”

She rolls her eyes, coming closer to him this time and resting her hands to his chest, “You’re a pathetic loser, Sirius Black.”

He gulps, bracing himself for the heartbreak he’s about to face.

“You’re the daftest bloke in history and I hate you for confessing your feelings to me now,” She continues, glueing her eyes to his now “Because if you’ve done it earlier, you could’ve kissed and held me for years already.”

“What-”

“Shut up and just kiss me before I get mad at you again.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

And so he leans in, finally getting the price he’s thirsted for the longest of time. She was the definition of perfection, the way her soft lips met with his. How her body’s now close to his, being held in his protective embrace just the way he’s always prayed at night. For a moment there all the years of silent pining and distressful yearns for each other doesn’t seem so bad. Never that bad when a happy ending is their reward.

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #sirius black scenario #sirius black scenarios #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x oc

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laurelled-by-lavender · 1 year

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grey

pairing: yamaguchi tadashi x fem!reader content warnings: PINING!! so so much pining, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, insecure reader, reader has hair (colour, texture, etc is not mentioned) word count: approx. 10k author's note: reader likes girls too, but no labels are applied/specified

you know that you’re supposed to be studying. of course, you know. but how can anyone possibly expect you to do so, when he looks like that. so incredibly pretty, while doing something as simple as sitting and breathing. but there’s that familiar light coming through the large library windows. that golden glow which rests on his face, illuminating his skin. he looks like an angel. you could spend hours like this, admiring him. his every freckle, line, curve and dimple. every twitch of his lips and eyebrows. every flutter of his eyelashes. simply ethereal.

you watch the way he chews at his pencil, though, not wanting to feel like a creep, staring at him much longer, you resort to the things splayed about on your table. your school books are littered everywhere, each of them opened to a different page, lines upon lines of bright pinks and yellows and blues highlighting the ink which rests on the pages. sitting not too far from said books, are the matching plastic tumbler cups he got you (pls i didnt know that thats what they were called until just now, i had to look it up) each with your respective favourite drinks.

tadashi knows you left in a hurry to meet him today. now, he never mentions it or anything, but he knows you have a tendency to be late for things. he also knows how you love to have something to nibble on or to drink when studying. so, he prepares your favourite, just how you like it, right before he leaves, so that when he meets with you, you’ll be thanking him with that beautiful smile he loves to see. it makes him feel all giddy and warm inside, knowing that he’s the one to make you happy like that. he wants to continue to make you happy, for as long as he can.

though, he’ll never tell you that.

he lifts his gaze to look at you. you look so damn adorable, he thinks. you’re wearing an over-sized pastel yellow sweater, with sleeves so long they go past your hands, along with a pair of mom jean shorts, cuffed at each thigh. you donned a pair of white shoes. well, maybe not so white anymore. the pair were quite old and have morphed into a colour of something along the lines of cream. he eyes the flowers on them, remembering the day you had both spent painting the little daisies all over them when you said you wanted to do something different. you couldn’t bother doing anything special with your hair, and you had skipped the makeup entirely, you were only studying after all. despite the little effort you put into your appearance today, he still thinks you look stunning.

he watches you reach over and grab your cup, sipping through the straw slowly, eyes still trailing on your notes. he can’t help but watch as your lips place themselves around the straw. he also can’t help the way he wishes he could kiss them. he watches you for a couple more seconds, but snaps himself out of it, wanting to be respectful of your friendship while he knows..

you like someone else.

after about half an hour, you let out a small, but exaggerated half-whine half-groan.

“i hate this” you say with a small pout. “it’s so boring, and my brain’s no longer allowing information inside of it. ‘m done.” you push your chair back and slump your upper body over the table, arms stretched out over your papers and onto his side of the surface. he sees your face duck down in between your arms, then hears a slight thud, indicating that your forehead had hit the table lightly, as an attempt to tell him that you were over it, and there was no way he could possibly get you to do anymore work today.

with a smile and a tilt of his head, he raises himself up off his chair, walks around the table, and stands behind you. he pushes your chair back into it’s proper place, forcing you to sit upright. the last thing you expected him to do was lean down right next to your ear, and whisper,

“do you need help, yn?”

you swear your heart felt as though it had entered an olympic hurdles competition, ‘cause that bitch was running a mile a minute and jumping all around, somewhere deep in your chest.

“uh, uhm- no?” you uttered out.

“is that so?” he replied. “cuz your notes are looking real blank if you ask me.”

you were quick to retaliate, pushing aside your love-struck thoughts and shooting back with,

“well, it’s a damn good thing i never asked you, isn’t it?” you turn your face slightly to your left, your faces now so close, you’d be kissing him if you moved so much as an inch. you sucked in a small gasp. you couldn’t help it. he was so close to you, you could smell his intoxicating cologne wafting through the air. it made your eyelids flutter to a close. you took in a slow breath. as you inhaled, he flooded your senses. his smell, his breath, his heartbeat. it felt as though you could feel it all. thrumming, coursing through your every nerve.

it reminds you of that time. that one time, long, long ago when you gave a piece of yourself to him when you were both only little, enraptured by the idea of having your first kiss.

he’s the one who pulls away first, again, reminding himself that this isn’t real. that he’s imagining the chemistry. the pull that’s drawing you both closer together. she likes someone else. he reminds himself, time and time again.

someone who isn’t you. a voice calls from afar in his head.

he shakes himself, mentally, disallowing those kinds of thoughts to permeate his brain. this isn’t about him, and it’s not because he’s not good enough.

he remembers the things he spoke about with his therapist. the self-love and validating exercises, reminding him, telling him, that he’s good enough. it’s not about him, it’s about some other person, and that’s not something he can control, and that doesn’t mean he’s any less important, or any less loved. especially by you.

at least he knows that he’ll always hold a place in your heart. he was, after all, your very first kiss.

his insides beam as he recalls the memory. it was clumsy. of course it was. you were only about 8 years old, as was he. you were shaking, out of excitement and nervousness. it was an elementary sort of thing. you had sort of planned it. it was kind of a mutual understanding that he’d be your first kiss, and that you would be his. he can only imagine what it would feel like now. now that he’s known you and liked you and dreamt of kissing you again for so damn long.

and yet, you liked someone else.

he’s accepted long ago, that he may never have that happily ever after that he’s longed for. the kind that he decided he wanted, with you, when you first watched ‘princess and the frog’ together as kids in your fluffy pillow fort. he remembers the way your wide eyes sparkled during the end scene, where tiana and naveen dance on the balcony in the twilight, the gleam of the moon reflecting off the water down below. he decided then and there, that he wanted that with you.

only you.

tadashi’s accepted long ago that he may never have that happily ever after that he’s dreamed of since he was a child.

at least, not with you.

you lay in bed that night, wide awake, thoughts racing. you wanted him to want you. you wanted him to want you back, so bad. it was laughable, really, how you felt like a 12 year old running around, hiding your silly little crush from your friends.

you weren’t oblivious. at least, you weren’t that oblivious. you know better than to assume that what went down in the library was a normal friendship occurrence.

he pulled away first, you remind yourself.

you try not to fixate on that, hoping that if you don’t, you’ll forget it, and it’ll be as though he did actually like you. like his breath so close to your ear was intentionally done to make you fall. to pull you closer. as if every moment after it was real. for all you know, you had imagined the whole damn thing.

your heart squeezed in your chest. is it always going to be this way? you had no idea whether or not he felt anything for you. or if he was attracted to anyone romantically at all. he seemed to avoid those kinds of questions.

what you did know, though, was that he acted differently around you than he did other girls. it’s hard to pinpoint, but it’s there. maybe it’s his demeanor. maybe it’s the way he laughs. he always did seem to laugh harder when other girls were around. they would come around and tell jokes that you can only wish you had come up with so that you could have been the one to make him laugh like that. you instead of them. you dreaded the way they touched his arm afterwards, they way they would smile at him, chin tilted down, but eyes gazing up, into his, twinkling with something more. hoping for something more.

it made you sick to your stomach.

if anything, you couldn’t blame them. he was always so nice. so kind, and pretty and smart. you couldn’t rule out his physique either, or his style. he had this way about him, that made all the girls, even the guys (and literally everyone else) fall to their knees. he unknowingly demanded attention, attracting everything and everyone to him, even the light which illuminates the very room in which he resides.

in many ways you wished that you were the only one to notice how bright he shone. how magnificent he was.

how selfish of you.

but, another part of you remembers how he was treated as a child, and you’re happy that people are noticing him and loving him like he deserves. you could only wish that they had seen it before he had hit puberty and grew ten times taller and ten times hotter. you weren’t blind to the fact that the girls who used to make fun of him back when you were young are now the ones flocking to him, hoping to be the one to make a smile form on his beautiful lips.

weeks and months flew by, as did courses and end of year exams, and soon enough, it was summer. you always enjoyed the summer, because that’s when you spent most of your time with tadashi. your difference in academic programs didn’t affect you two now that you’ve plenty of time off to do whatever you wanted. amusement parks, shopping sprees, beach trips and sleepovers were only a few of the things you’d collectively planned to do these upcoming months.

you’d never admit it out loud, but you were glad that you were less likely to see people that you knew.

during these humid and hot months, he always spends his time with you. day and night. it reassured you, that in these times, it was just you and him. you cherished it, knowing that the minute summer is done, the possibility of tadashi falling for someone is much more likely. you prepare yourself for it, mentally, though when the day does come, you’re not entirely sure you could bear it.

long ago, have you given up on any silly dreams where you’d be the one to end up with yams.

you saw, time and time again, what kinds of girls he became enraptured by when they went to cling to his arm. girls who you believed were prettier than you. girls with perfect skin and hair and bodies which you thought were a thousand times more desirable than yours. still, you’d be glad to have him by your side. after all, he is your closest friend.

things hadn’t really changed. your dynamic stayed the same. as flawless and as smooth as ever. snarky, teasing comments and effortless conversations and exchanges.

you dreaded the day he would find someone who could do it better than you.

either way, you could enjoy the now.

you were both at yamaguchi’s house, chilling in his backyard. you loved his house. it was familiar and comforting, and you adored every single aspect of it. it smelled like him, and the house was decorated with hanging plants and warm wooden tones. you basically grew up here with him. it was your second home.

you were always welcome here. tadashi’s parents always loved you, and treated you like one of their own. they showered you with love and lots and lots of food whenever you came over. always asking for you to stay for dinner and then overnight. they insisted on your company. in truth, you knew that tadashi’s parents wanted you to end up together. of course you did. hell, your parents did too. neither of them ever really tried to hide it.

your families were close. in fact, your parents were like best friends with each other, and it was all because of you two, way back when, during your elementary school years.

as the story goes, one of your parents would come over to tadashi’s to come pick you up from your after school play-date, and then they would end up spending 2 hours talking and talking to yamaguchi’s parents, forgetting about you two entirely as you laughed and danced and played in the basement. over the years, your families kind of joined together. they enjoyed each other's company, and only found greater pleasure when they realized how well you two got along (and how adorable you were together) as we know now, they became best friends, which in turn only allowed your friendship with tadashi to grow even stronger. they made no secret of their hopes of you two becoming a pair. always hinting and nudging. purposefully having you two sit next to each other at the dinner table when you stayed to have supper with them, always insisting you share a room on vacations when your families took trips together, and you parents always speaking of how you’d never find a connection like you have with him, with anyone else.

well, at least they got one part right.

if there was one thing you knew, it was that you’ll never be able to have this with anyone else. you don’t think anyone could live up to him.

you were sat on a cushioned hammock chair, legs crossed, reading a book. yamaguchi wasn’t very far from you, lying on the ground by the pool, stomach down, on a striped blue and green towel. his long legs pass the towel, and lay against the hot concrete deck. he’s resting his chin on his arms as they’re crossed, and he looks up at you, (at least, he tries to) squinting as the bright sun obstructs his vision slightly. he can make out your figure and position and can decipher in two seconds that you’re reading. he knows you love that chair. it’s your favourite spot to read. over the years, he’s observed you. he’s observed you enough to know your favourite reading positions and favourite spots, and that comfy hammock provided you the utmost comfort. he prides himself of that chair, knowing how happy it makes you.

(it’s like a subtle flex for himself LMFAO.. like every time he sees you on it he’s like, yea that’s right, that chair’s in MY backyard, no one else’s. yn’s butt enjoys THIS spot the best, n it’s all cuz o’ me!)

“whatcha readin’?” he asks in a sing-song sort of voice

“a book.” you say flatly, not wanting to lose your place.

“what’s the title of the book?” he continues,

...

no reply.

“what kind of book is it?”

more silence. you wait for another question, but it doesn’t come. after a few short seconds, just when you think he’s done inquiring...

“is it smut?”

at this you break out laughing, “’dashi, please ’m just tryna read! leave me alone!” you try to sound annoyed, but you can’t hide the smile as you speak, or the giggle after every other word.

he smiles at the reaction he got from you.

using his hands to push himself up off the ground, he moves from his spot. he notes the way you eyed his back and arm muscles as he got up, but thinks nothing of it. he then wipes his hands on his shorts and takes a couple steps towards you.

you pretend as though you don’t see him, as if you’re still reading your book. in reality, you’re just worried that he caught you blatantly staring.

he stands in front of you for a good 10 seconds. you finally look up at him, though, only to complain that he’s blocking then sun, when he snatches the book from your hands, turns and walks off quickly, reading out-loud from the pages you had open. you immediately remove yourself from your comfy chair and chase him as he speed-walks around the pool. he finally relents after 2 whole minutes, and he’s finally about to give you back the book... but instead, he simply holds it in front of you and pulls it back every time you try to reach for it.

he had his fun like this for a while.

suddenly, in the midst of his teasing, he notices something. he notices the colourful tabs which stick out slightly from the ends of the pages. blue, pink, yellow, green... a devilish smirk appears on his face as he turns to face you. you both stop in your tracks.

“what are the red tabs for?” he asks slyly.

your face feels hot and your stomach tightens. how did he know?! at a loss for words and, for once, a comeback, you decided to resume your chase at full force, grabbing the closest thing you can find to hit him with as you went.

you settled on an orange pool noodle.

this will do, you thought as you snatched it from it’s upright position against the pool fence.

from the kitchen window, his mother watches you chase her son with a smile on her face and a glass of iced tea. you two could not be more adorable. she thinks...

or oblivious.

after weeks and weeks of hot, humid weather, it seemed as though mother nature had had enough.

the clouds had become her eyes, as she loomed and watched over your town. she cried and she cried, allowing rainwater to fall. it filled ponds and lakes, and turned streets into rivers.

simply put, it was pouring.

you stood at the window, watching as the harsh drops of rain hit the puddles out on the street, forming tiny waves that drifted away and faded until another took it’s place. the grey gloom from the weather outside felt like it was infiltrating your home, passing through the windows, reaching in. into your living room and into your chest, clutching your heart. you don’t know why it made you feel this way, but you didn’t like it.

you shut the curtains in a swift motion, leaving the room significantly darker than it was a couple seconds ago, as most of the lights had been turned off. you turned to face tadashi, who was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor, playing solitaire. you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was playing it wrong.

“too gloomy for you?” he asked without looking away from the playing cards.

you hummed in response and sat on the couch across from him, watching him play for a while.

“wanna watch something?” you ask.

“what d’you feel like watching?” he questioned back, already knowing what to suggest to make you happy.

“i dunno, something comforting, maybe nostalgic, to take away from the gloomy weather?” you respond.

“how about fantastic mr. fox?”

“that’s perfect.”

while he made the peach tea, you set up the movie and the blankets. you soon found yourself cuddled up against him, warm mugs in hand as your shoulders and head bopped around slightly to the beat of the opening song.

it was a great choice. it was bright, and yellow and the exact opposite of whatever the world looked like outside right now.

you know that he was only doing this for you. tadashi knows how much it upsets you when it rains in such a way, so he did everything he could to make you feel all right, but for him, this weather was all too pleasant.

you never understood why yamaguchi tadashi loved rainy weather. sure, he could enjoy the sun and whatnot when it was out, but there was something about it that drew him to it. whenever it rained, he always seemed the most himself. it may have been your eyes tricking you, but every time you recall watching him as it poured, you could see a faint upturn to the sides of his mouth. as though it brought him a sense of calm. you simply didn’t get it. how could something so dreary and grey and gloomy bring such comfort to a person? most of all, how could it elicit these feelings in a person who reminded you so much of the sun? he was so bright.

when you looked at him, thought of him, never once had you ever seen rain. nor the cold or cloudy skies. you thought only of light. how could it make him so at ease? all it did for you was upset you. you hated to see the world in such a way. for, you preferred it when everything shone yellow and gold. it made you feel warm and safe.

it was funny, in a way. you two were so alike. or at least it always seemed so. maybe underneath, if you were to peel back the blankets of memories, you’d find that you’re not so similar after all. but maybe that’s a good thing,

why, haven’t you ever heard that opposites attract?

the doorbell rings and pulls him out of his thoughts. you both already know who’s at the door. you place your mug on the coffee table and make your way to the front door. you open it as if you lived there and welcome your guest in with a bright smile. he gets up shortly after you, and upon arriving at the entrance door, he sees yachi.

hitoka yachi was one of his closest friends in high school. he actually thought she was really cute when he first met her, and when you started dating someone else, he figured he might do the same to try and get over his life-long crush on you.

it didn’t work.

he found out pretty quickly that he wasn’t attracted to her romantically, and she found out just as fast that she wasn’t to him either. they agreed to be good friends, and soon enough they started confiding in one another.

he admitted his secret longing for you to her.

she admitted that she liked girls.

yachi gives you a big hug before bringing to your attention the food and board games she brought. you thank and bring the stuff she brought to the kitchen, and in the meantime, tadashi welcomes her as well. when she sees that you’re out of earshot, she immediatley asks,

“so? anything?”

he turns to her with a sigh and a look that basically says, what are you even expecting? of course not.

she tilts her head and sighs.

she can’t wait until one of you grows the balls to ask the other out.

you shout out from the kitchen saying you’ll prepare something to eat for all of you before joining them for the rest of the movie. hitoka sees this as a perfect opportunity to talk about it. they walk over to the couch and get comfortable, sitting cross-legged across from each other. (optimal gossip/drama sharing position, if i do say so myself)

“honey, what you are so afraid of? you’re so perfect for each other. she may never make the first move, yknow. remember how she was with terushima? she couldn’t confess to him, let alone speak to him. the only reason that ever happened was because he went for it! yn’s had too many heartbreaks over silly, stupid people who didn’t show her enough love. she’ll always be unsure and need reassurance and you’re amazing at that! unless you make it clear to her that you want her, she’ll never try. she doesn’t want to get hurt again. neither of us want that for her, and you and i both know that if she were yours, you’d never let that happen.”

“but what if i do?”

“what are you talking about?” she asks in disbelief.

“what if i’m not enough for her? what if i end up hurting her because i can’t give her what she wants? i couldn’t bear it if we ruined what we have now.” it’s all for naught if she’s in love with you, anyways, he thinks.

he doesn’t add that part though.

tadashi has been... speculating.

he knows you like someone, and due to some unfortunate experiences from the past, you tend to prefer dating people you’re already friends with. he figures that the most likely option would be yachi. it makes sense, he supposes. aside from him, you spend most of your free time with her. she’s pretty, she’s incredibly smart and funny, and you find great comfort in her. you both got along really well when he first introduced you two to each-other. in fact, he thought it was almost scary, how quickly you were able to befriend her. though, you were like that with everybody. after all, you were like that with him, too. tadashi figures that after how long you’ve known one another, if you were bound to catch feelings for him at some point, it would have happened by now. yachi still has that chance, he thinks. you’ve known her quite a while, but not long enough, perhaps, for you to eliminate her as a possibility for a romantic partner. he’s acutely aware of the way you smile at her. how you’re always cuddling when she’s over, how you absentmindedly play with the ends of her hair as you lay your head on her shoulder. it’s not too far fetched of a theory.

what a waste, he thinks. now neither of you can be happy.

you and yachi deserve each other. maybe he deserves you too. but just because he’s deserving of something doesn’t mean he’ll get it.

hitoka sighs, and tadashi’s pulled out of his thoughts. she grabs his face by the cheeks and places a kiss on his forehead.

“you’re overthinking again, yams.” she whispers into his skin.

he stays quiet for a moment before responding,

“i know.”

you hear footsteps shuffle into the kitchen and turn your head to find hitoka leaning against the door frame.

“hey babes, whatcha makin?” she asks with a grin.

“just a quick lil platter. lil bit a fruits n veggies ‘nd some of the chips ‘nd stuff you brought.”

you’re licking the juice dripping down your hand from the strawberries you’ve just cut when she states,

“you look upset.”

there’s a pause. you turn, continuing the preparation of the food.

“it’s raining.” is all you respond. she notices the twitch in your brow. “no. no, no. there’s something else... it’s yams, isn’t it?” she retaliates. “why can’t you just ask him if he likes me? won’t that make things easier?” you whisper aggressively, wanting to let out your thoughts without letting tadashi hear you. “we’ve been over this yn. it wouldn’t be natural. if it ends up being the reason things go wrong i couldn’t live with myself. i would never want to do that to you or yamaguchi, and i don’t want to lose either of you. if something happens between you two it has to happen organically. asking through me isn’t organic.” you sigh, “i know, i know. ‘m sorry. that was very middle school of me.” she smiles gently, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. she moves to give you a hug, resting her forehead on your shoulder. she speaks softly, and it’s muffled, but you can still her her clearly enough as she says, “it’s okay, yn. i know it’s difficult but, if you think you’re up for it, just... try. okay? make a move. a small one. trust me.” a couple moments pass in silence. you take a breath before finally responding. “okay... thank you, ‘toka.”

the three of you reconvene in the living room and spend a few hours playing video games and watching movies until you’re bored out of your minds. lazing the day away was one of your favourite things to do with your best friends, especially on a day like this. after a very long while, hitoka decides that it’s time for her to leave. you give her the biggest, tightest hug and a kiss on the cheek. the action doesn’t go unnoticed by tadashi. he bids her farewell with a hug, and as he goes to pull away she whispers to him,

“make a move, before it’s too late.”

hitoka leaves with one final goodbye and a dramatic wave once she steps out into the wet weather. as she turns to back to head home, she wonders if tadashi will actually do what she told him to, or if you’ll both give up on something neither of you knew could even be. she hopes it’s not too late.

you’re back where you started, you on the couch, yams on the floor. the only difference now being that it’s way too late in the night. you sit in comfortable silence, the only noise being the gentle pitter patter of raindrops on the windowsill. after a couple moments, he stands to make himself comfortable near you. he lies his head on your crossed legs and gazes up at you. your fingers unconsciously make their way to his face, tracing all of his features, each delicate curve. he takes one of your hands. he plays with your fingers, traces your palm, interlocks your pinkies and rubs the inside of your wrist, as though he were trying to examine every square millimeter of your hand while never once taking his eyes off of yours. as though he were captivated, all consumed by you.

“i love you, tadashi.”

“i love you too, yn.”

“no, my angel. i love you. i’m in love with you.”

her frowns, before gently removing his hands from yours so that he can sit properly, face to face with you. you sit cross-legged across from each-other, just as he was with hitoka earlier that day. “what about yachi?” he asks. “what about her?” you respond. what did she have to do with this? had she already told him? “you- i mean.. don’t you like her?” you laugh at that, albeit nervously, “of course- of course i like her, she’s my best friend, dashi.”

he lets out a small sharp breath, as though he were frustrated. not at you, but more at himself for not being able to articulate and convey his thoughts properly. “no, yn, i mean... like.. love her, like her. as a partner. a girlfriend.”

“no, my love that’s.. that’s you.”

“me?” he repeats. you nod.

“how could it be me?”

“it’s always been you.”

he’s quiet for a while. he stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. you’re not exactly expecting a love confession back. you don’t even know how he feels about you beyond being his best friend. but at the same time, you didn't expect this. tadashi used to apologize a lot. he never really spoke his mind. he would bottle it up, more and more and more until he exploded. he always felt terrible afterwards.

“no.”

in that second, you feel as though your heart stopped beating. but even then, his blatant rejection is not an explanation. he continues for you. “no. you’re not in love with me. you may think you are, but you’re not. you’ll get over it soon enough and- and.. i’ll- i don’t wanna hurt you. no.... no.”

“dashi-” you start, but he’s interrupting you, “this can’t happen.”

your vision is blurry, clouded by tears. lips quivering, you manage a quiet,

“why?”

there are tears flowing down his cheeks now, too. he brings his hands up slowly, ever so gently, to cup your face. his hands are warm on your skin. he rests his forehead on yours. he breathes shakily. “i’m so sorry, angel. you’re the love of my life,” it was said softly but passionately, his voice cracking a little at the end, “but you have to go now.” you sob and shake your head. “don’t do this.” you say. he nods in protest, “i have to.” your tears fall quickly down your face. you can’t remember the last time you cried like this. you didn’t expect to lose him. not today. not like this. his palms are wet from your salty tears. “go.” he whispers you scrunch your eyes shut, praying the tears away. praying all of this away, hoping it’s just a bad dream. a nightmare, the worst, most realistic one you’ve ever had. but when you open your eyes, he’s still there. his lips are quivering, much like yours, and his cheeks are as pink and his eyes are. you hate to say that he’s still as beautiful as ever. he’s not looking at you anymore. he can’t stand to look at you, let alone in the eye. the warmth and comfort of his hands have left the sides of your face, and you feel empty. you stand slowly, making your way out of his house. the place you used to call your second home. it all comes crashing down on you, much like the rain outside. you’re colder than ever. with nothing else to lose, you walk. you walk to the only other person you can fully trust. you go to yachi’s.

you hesitate several times on your way there, but you figure if anyone knows how to help, it’s yachi. when you get to her apartment, it’s almost 1:30 in the morning. she opens the door a crack before realizing it’s you. it takes her a second more to notice the tears streaking your face and the way you sniffle before she’s ushering you inside with a hand on your back, and another in your hand. you’re slightly hunched, with your free hand over your heart.

“it hurts.” you sob.

“oh, baby. what happened?” she asks, but you she’s not expecting an answer yet. not until you’re comfortable and dry.

she brings you to her room and sits you down on her bed. she undresses you gently but quickly, and puts you in the clothes she keeps at her place for you in case you need to sleep over. they’re comfy and oversized. you feel yourself starting to warm up. all throughout, your eyes are stuck to the floor, unmoving. she then moves you under the covers and holds you close. your eyes burn from how much you’ve cried, and now that they’ve dried, they feel heavy. you fall asleep before you can even process it.

you wake up to the smell of pancakes. you almost cry again when you remember what happened last night. your body screams at you as you get up and shuffle into the kitchen. hitoka turns from the stove when she hears your footsteps. she smiles a small smile and gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “i’m making you your favourite. it looks like you need it.” you hum in response as she tells you to sit on the couch and put something on the tv. moments later, she’s placing two plates on the coffee table and taking her spot next to you. you’re filing through the shows without really paying attention to the names. you’re in a daze. hitoka’s soft voice brings you back to her.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

the truth is, yachi already knows everything. well, at least from tadashi’s point of view. after you fell asleep last night, yachi took it upon herself to call him. pacing back and forth in her little kitchen, she tried to calm yamaguchi’s breathing over the phone as he panics over the end of your friendship and his decision. his breaths are heavy and he hiccups every once in a while, sometimes even choking when trying to take in too much air, too fast. “shh, shhh, honey. it’s okay. go slow.” when his breathing regulates and he’s left exhaling shakily, he tells her how you confessed your feelings for him, only for him to reject all of it by pushing you away while telling you that it wouldn’t work and that he’d hurt you. when he explains to her how you tried to reason with him, she sighs, “i though we talked about this, yams. she would do anything for you. she loved you still. she tried for you even as you were actively trying to push her away.”

“i told him that i was in love with him...” you start.

she doesn’t respond. she waits, knowing that you’re not done. “he-,” you sigh, “he told me that... that i wasn’t truly in love with him, and that he’d hurt me.” tears flood your eyes as she hugs you closer. there’s a pause before you finish in a pained whisper. “he told me i was the love of his life.” she pulls back at that, hands on your shoulders. “he, what?” you sob with a hand over your mouth.

tadashi didn’t tell her about this. she knew it of course, that he was in love with you. she’s known for ages. but he failed to inform her about his confession to you. finally, you both knew, and yet, things weren’t right. you should be together right now. holding each other and happy. “i’m so sorry, baby.” it’s whispered into your hair. she doesn't know what else to offer as consolation. she knows things will turn out all right, but as is known, yachi believes in the art of the organic. he'll figure it out soon enough, she decides. for now, the best she could do is comfort you. she wishes that things had gone differently. her heart breaks as you sob into her arms.

it’s been a week. you feel a little better, but the hurt in your heart still lingers. the sting is more painful than you’d like it to be. you wish it could lessen quicker. yachi stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom, holding up different tops against her chest.

you watch her from the bed, the netflix show playing on your laptop long forgotten as you help her make decisions for her outfit tonight. she eyes you from the mirror, “you sure you don’t wanna come?” you shake your head. “i don't know if i can handle a party right now. my poor aching heart needs a rest.” you exclaim sarcastically, resting the back of your hand against your forehead as you drop your head back, feigning distress. she chuckles before searching through her earrings to find the right pair. “maybe,” she says. “but maybe it’ll be good for you. i know you’re not one for rebounds or anything, but at the very least you can drink your sorrows away.” she finishes and turns back to you holding a different jewel against each ear, silently urging you to decide for her. “the silver ones.” you decide. she hums with a nod. you think about it. it doesn’t sound that great, but you’ve been cooped up in your room for days. maybe it’ll be nice to let loose a bit. she’s right, you think, booze might help. “okay, i’ll come.” she jumps excitedly with a clap of her hands, dragging you up and off the bed to her closet to help you pick something out for tonight.

the club is loud and cramped. hitoka holds your hand as she leads the way to the bar, seemingly knowing the layout of the place perfectly. you couldn’t blame her, you suppose. hinata throws a lot of parties. it wasn’t unlike him to rent out a place for the night. it’s not like it would be empty, either. shoyo also knows a lot of people. when finally at the bar, you spot hinata, along with terushima and another guy you haven’t met before. shoyo greets you with a big smile and a hug. “yn! i didn’t know you were coming!” he exclaims, though it’s a little slurred. you nod at the other two, not missing the wink terushima throws at you. you and terushima didn’t necessarily end on a bad note. it’s been a long time anyways, but that was certainly unexpected of him. you can’t even remember the last time you spoke to him. yachi gets herself a drink, as well as one for you. she asks if it’s okay if she leaves you for a minute to make the tour around the club and say hi to people. after your confirmation, she leaves, though not after a final check in. yuji takes no time in swooping in after waving off his friend. “heard about your little break-up.” he says. you groan. “we weren’t even dating.” you clarify with a grumble. he hums and moves closer. “i can help.” he adds suggestively. “o- oh uhm, i don’t think-” “no, no. nothing like that,” he says. “but i’lll gladly be your drinking buddy if you’d let me? maybe even a dance partner?” you smile. you missed him. sure he was kinda sleazy, but he doesn’t mean any harm. he could be a really good friend sometimes. “thanks, yuji.” he grins toothily before jutting his chin in the direction of your cup. “bottoms up, girl.” you let out a laugh that sounds more like a scoff before downing the contents inside.

yamaguchi really wasn’t planning on coming tonight. a party is probably the last thing he needs right now. he didn’t want to face yachi, or you. you were never really a party person. he thinks to himself. hopefully, you’re not there. he gets dressed quickly and makes his way out, hoping to find a way to forget about you tonight. except, when he makes his way into the house, he spots you immediately. on the dance floor. with terushima yuji. he tries to ignore it. but you look so happy. your hips are moving, hands in the air, so carefree. you look beautiful, as always. yuji spots him. tadashi watches as he makes his way even closer to you, grabbing your waist while keeping his eyes locked on yamaguchi. he’s challenging him. he’s daring him. daring him to make a move and do something about it. he doesn’t. instead, he turns and makes his way to the bar. i need a drink, he thinks. or five.

you spend hours dancing, taking turns with yachi, shoyo, and even bokuto. bokuto was lively and incredibly funny. you dare say you enjoyed dancing with him the most. although, terushima was a close second. soon enough, yuji asks to steal you back from bokuto. he grabs your hand and brings you closer before turning you around so that your back is to his chest. he puts his hands on your hips and dances in sync with your movements. yamaguchi watches from the indoor balcony that looks down upon the dancefloor. he watches as terushima grinds his hips sensually and rakes his fingers against your sides. tadashi downs his drink, before asking the closest girl next to him to dance.

she agrees eagerly, thrilled that the mysteriously quiet freckled guy she’d been eyeing the entire night has noticed her. it doesn’t take long for you to spot him. he’s holding a girl’s hand, leading her onto the dancefloor.

you didn’t even know he was here.

and now you wish you did, because she’s gorgeous. tall and fit. her platinum blonde hair shines purple from the lights above. they fit well together, you think as you admire him for the first time tonight. his hair is tied up in a half-up half down ponytail. the hairstyle exposes the hidden highlights he has done. the colour matches her hair perfectly. he has a couple loose strands, but they don’t manage to hide his piercings. he wears a black cropped graphic tee. from the waist down, he wears all black. the shirt’s length (or lack thereof) shows off the fishnets he wears underneath his baggy ripped jeans. (yk like those punk yamaguchi drawings) he looks fucking incredible. it’s quite different to what he usually wears, but maybe that’s what makes it all the more alluring. you break out of your trance when you realize that he’s still here, dancing with someone else. you couldn’t fault him. you were dancing with someone else, too.

yuji feels you freeze up against him. he leans over your shoulder to look at your face and sees the tears building up. you saw them.

suddenly very gentle, he tucks away the hair from your face before whispering in your ear, “i’ll take you somewhere else.” you nod, sparing tadashi one last look before following terushima out of the bar.

you find yourself in the backseat of teru’s car, though, not how one may think. you sit in silence, the only sound being the occasional sniffle from you. “if you wqant.. and only if you want.. i can help you. for real this time.” you look at him, with tears in your eyes, and pretty lips. “gonna help me forget about him?” you ask, voice quivering as you struggle to hold back a new wave of tears. “i promise, my angel.” you almost flinch at the petname. it sounding so unfamiliar, so wrong, on his lips. you don’t say anything. instead, you nod, shuffling closer to him. you fist the collar of his shirt. he puts his index finger under your chin, tilting your face upwards, ever so slightly. you look so pretty, he thinks. he leans in, and your finger tighten further into the fabric of his shirt. you’re hesitating. yuji knows this, so he continues slowly. you’re barely leaning in. you can’t remember the last time you kissed someone like this. you felt so vulnerable. your lips were close now. the reality of it all hits you now. if you moved so much as a couple inches you’d be kissing him. you get deja vu. it takes you back to that time in the library. he was so so close to you. it felt so intimate, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. slowly and deeply all at once. he was tadashi. that’s who you wanted. not this. not terushima, nor anyone else.

that’s when he feels it. it’s less of a push but more of a pause. it did nothing, of course. it barely did anything. in fact, it would have been imperceptible had the situation been any different. you barely even acknowledged it yourself. he pulls back and lets out a breath, looking at you with worry in his brow. yours hands unleash their grip on his shirt and flatten against his chest. you looked to him in moderate confusion. “it’s okay,” he whispers. “you don’t have to force yourself to want this.”

you knew it yourself. you didn’t want this. you wanted tadashi. you wanted him with you, in your arms. his lips on yours, your fingers interlocked with his. his warmth, and no one else's. it’s your turn to let out a breath, though, more out of despair than anything. you rest your head on his chest, in between where your hands lay. “i’m so sorry.” gentle hands find their way to your head and back, one stroking lightly along your spine, sending shivers down your back, and the other massaging your scalp. you stay like this for a while. the two of you sit in the realization of what happened, and what could’ve happened. it’s not awkward. you lift your head and take another breath. “thank you.” it’s said with a small smile, and he can see that there’s sadness lingering behind it.

“he has to be the biggest idiot in the universe to give up someone like you.” he says, with a palm to your cheek. you smile with a scoff, “you gave me up, too, yuji.” you quip, though it’s playful. “i did. but you and i both know that we weren’t meant to be together. nor will we ever be. you’re supposed to be with tadashi.” he reasons, with a poke to your forehead. “i know,” you whisper. “i just wish he knew it too.”

soon enough, you’re walking back into the party with yuji on your arm. hitoka spots you almost immediately, as does tadashi. yachi rushes over to you, exclaiming how worried she was when she couldn’t find you. it doesn’t take long before you’re saying your goodbyes to the boys and walking back out the door you had just entered only a couple minutes ago. yamaguchi watches you leave. he almost had half the heart to go and chase you out the door, but is reminded of the girl on his arm when she plays with the bracelet on his wrist. the one you made him.

his mood drops significantly fast.

he rips his arm away from her, not caring about being seen as rude. he narrows his eyes at something near the bar, or rather someone, and makes his way over there.

yuji is leant over the counter with a drink in his hand. tadashi takes his spot on the right of him, back against the bar, arms crossed. “something uh, happening between you n yn?” he asks, voice devoid of geniality. terushima only grins, slinking his eyes to the door you left in, then back to him. they make direct eye contact. there’s a dry smile on yuji’s face. it’s not friendly. “yeah,” terushima responds cooly, not missing the way yamaguchi’s shoulders and arms tighten in their hold from the corner of his eye. he takes a sip of his drink. “is she not available?” yuji asks smugly, challenging him. “available?!” tadashi repeats incredulously, and maybe a little too quickly, too, because when he takes in the raised eyebrow and smirk on terushima’s face, he realizes that he’s never wanted to slap someone so badly in his life. yuji smiles as he watches the boy walk away wordlessly.

you couldn’t sleep. the bed was warm, the room was dark, and you were tired. and yet, you couldn’t sleep. your thoughts were so loud. “you sigh so noisily.” you hear from next to you. “oh. sorry, ‘toka.” she hums. the bed shakes and you hear shuffling noises. it all stops once she’s laying on her right side, facing you. you can barely see her, but you know she’s watching you with furrowed brows. “what happened with yuji while you two were gone?” she asks. you sense the worried quiver in her voice. you’re not one to have rebounds or meaningless hook-ups. especially not with your ex. she knows that. she wouldn’t really blame you though, with all that’s happening with tadashi. but, despite rationalizing the fact that you could have very well hooked-up with terushima, a very large part of her hopes that you hadn’t. it would crush yamaguchi if he found out, regardless of his rejection of you. she knows you’d come to regret it too.

you take a deep breath. “tadashi was there. with a girl. yuji… well… he offered to go somewhere a little quieter,,” hitoka inhales sharply at that, but doesn’t say anything. she lets you continue, giving you the benefit of the doubt. “and.. well we went to his car and.. he then offered to- uhm.. help.” there’s dread and tension in the air. anticipation. and not the good kind. there’s a pause before you continue. “we were going ot kiss. but.. i couldn’t do it.” you laugh dryly. “he noticed my apprehension before i did. it was like my body knew,” yachi lets out her breath, relieved. “it felt so wrong, to want to kiss someone that wasn’t tadashi. and i’ve only kissed him once! when we were kids!” it’s her turn to laugh now, but more out of shock and respite. “im glad. if anything, let’s just hope it makes that stupid boy realize what he’s given up.” you hum in confusion at that. “did you not see the way he was looking at you when you re-entered the bar stuck to teru’s arm?! he looked murderous. sometimes i forget that that boy can feel anger. it looks terrifying on him.”

silence falls upon the two of you. you find yourself drifting off to sleep before you hear three very loud knocks. from yachi’s apartment. the two of you sit up at the noise, hearts beating fast. you both patter to the door, not before grabbing a bat on the way to the entrance door. hitoka prepares herself before opening the door, you not too far away. she open the door a crack, the light from outside her apartment illuminating her face. you see the way the fluorescent bulbs in the hall accentuate the expressions of her face. a frown, quickly morphed to confusion, the panic melting away in an instant.

“where is she? please. i know she’s here.” you’d recognize his voice anywhere. it follows you wherever you go, in your mind and in your dreams, every single night. you make your way to the door. hitoka automatically moves aside, and you take her place in the doorway. there’s silence as you watch each other, as though it were the very first time and the millionth all at once.

“i’ll be back in a bit.” yachi announces, before grabbing her phone and her jacket, making her way out the door. the two of you watch her leave, the quiet in between you even more deafening that before. “come in.” you say. it’s extremely quiet, but he hears it anyway. making his way inside, he diffidently takes a seat on the couch, as though it were his first time here. he’s still in the clothes he wore at the party. you close the door and go to sit near him. you’re about to say something, though you’re not even sure what. you’re extremely thankful as he cuts you off-

“why were you with him?”

“he’s my friend?” you offer confusedly.

“but he’s your ex.” he knows it’s a silly argument. the dumbest, actually. he’s best friends with yachi, and they dated back in high school, too. in all honesty, he’s just upset. mind a jumbled mess of jealousy and hurt and anger and despair. you don’t offer anything to counter that, other than a knowing tilt of your head. you both know he was just talking to talk. after all, his friendship with yachi hasn’t changed one bit. not even after their break-up. you knew just as well as he did that it was a dumb assertion.

“you left with him.” he continues.

“and then i came back.” you counteract.

“yes, you did,” he scoffs lightly, “with him. on his arm.”

“and what’s it to you, huh? why do you care?” you ask, frustrated.

“you know exactly why i care,” he says with a clenched jaw. “i told you we couldn’t be together, but i never denied loving you.”

you laugh bitterly, with tears building up in your eyes, “fuck, you’re making this so difficult, ‘dashi.”

you bring your hand up to your forehead, massaging it. there’s a pause. it feels like it lasts forever. you know it’s coming.

“did you kiss him?”

you stare directly into his eyes, gaze never once wavering, “you should know by now, that my heart belongs to no one but you-”

“but did you kiss him?!” it’s rushed and frantic. his heart feels like it’s being clenched in his chest. his ribs closing in and squeezing, leaving no room to breathe or focus. he feels lightheaded, awaiting your answer. it’s painful and agonizing, not knowing what truly happened when you were gone and hurting, possibly in the arms of another.

“i wanted to,” you whisper. his heart stings. “i was so sick of crying over you. i wanted to forget about you. to forget that you told me that i was the love of your life, only to find you in the arms of another mere days after the fact, and i was finally given the chance to do so,” his head drops to his hands, elbows resting on his knees. his hair falls in between his fingers. he pulls, feeling the bite at every root. his heart feels like it’s being pierced with a million scorching needles. in agony.

“... but i couldn’t.” his head shoots back up. he watches you with glassy eyes and damp cheeks. “i wanted it to be you. i couldn’t fathom being with someone that wasn’t you.” you shuffle closer to him while holding back sobs, “why couldn’t you just let me love you?” he breathes shakily, “i didn’t want to hurt you.”

“but you did, ‘dashi. you hurt me so bad.”

he hates hearing it. it sounds so fucking harsh, his worst fear come true. he feels like he’s gonna throw up. “i’m sorry, angel. it was dumb and so stupid and i’ll never do it again because i can’t lose you. i thought i could do it. i thought i could be without you and bear it while you forgot about me to find someone else but i can’t do it. i want to be selfish. i want to be with you.” you’re close enough to rest your forehead on his. “i couldn’t forget about you even if i tried…” he brings his hands to your cheeks. his grip soft but firm, as though you were to slip from his grasp if he wasn’t careful. as though you would break. tadashi’s not letting that happen again.

“you’re my everything, angel.” he whispers against your lips.

“and you’re mine.”

thunder strikes outside as the sound of raindrops begin to patter against the windowsill, just like that day. the day that almost broke the two of you, never to be the same again.

he kisses you sweetly, a small smile on his lips.

maybe it’s because it was an excuse to care for you and be close to you. maybe it’s because he genuinely did find comfort in the rain. or maybe it brought back memories of the good ol’ days.

or maybe, it’s a reminder of what he has. what he can lose. what he almost did lose. and how fucking lucky he is to have you. his tiana. his evangeline.

he watches you from the living room entrance. his head it tipped back a little, a closed-lip grin on his face as the back of his head rests against the doorframe. you’re sitting on the couch, cuddled up in a blanket as you watch your favourite movie. the one you watched together as kids. princess and the frog.

he pushes himself off the doorframe and makes his way to you, handing you a mug of your favourite herbal tea. you look up at him with a grateful beam, and he can only duck down to place a loving kiss against your forehead.

yamaguchi takes his place on the couch next to you to watch the rest of the movie, but he doesn’t watch the movie. he just can’t take his eyes off of you.

you get prettier everyday, he thinks, as you mouth the words of the movie, knowing it all by heart.

he sighs contentedly.

tadashi smiles as he realizes he finally has the happily ever after he’s dreamed of since he was a child. the one he knew he wanted when he first watched the ending scene of princess and the frog, where tiana and naveen dance on the balcony in the moonlight.

he has his happily ever after.

and he has it with you.

only you.

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leblancdamoiselle · 2 years

Note

Hi! Can I request soul mate au with chuuya? With a mafia reader? Hope this Is ok <3

☆.｡.:*𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘆 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘆.｡.:*☆

𝙖/𝙣. Hiii sorry it took sooooo long :( and the story is also long here, there will be part 2 because if i put everything in here it will be too long hehe. I also insert a lot of real life references (in italic font) so you can like yk feel it, anyways enjoy!! <3

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙨. Mentions of violence & guns, harsh words

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜. Nakahara Chuuya x mafia!Reader

𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. @96jnie

"Port Mafia will go down,"

Hundreds of men kneels before you—their fate remains unknown as for tonight; the objective is to infiltrate Yokohama and tear Port Mafia.

You were escorted to your wagon; a rather shiny and costly one. One that smells like French perfume inside.

"Chief are you ready?" The driver asks

"Yes, go ahead,"

You rest your head to the windscreen, the luminescent sunset caught your eyes

The sky is beautiful. You wonder how the sky has witnessed bloodshed many times, but it still lingers on innocently. You envy the sky for that, you wished you can erase all the sins and earn your sanity and morality back.

Many believed that the ability you are born with is; something miraculous. It's stupid—you thought. You hated your ability, the ability to see one's biggest trauma and psychologically torture them (and yourself) with it.

You always feel like you wanted to throw up by your own ability, it's sickening.

It's an hour drive from Shinjuku to Yokohama. After years of building your own empire—the empire of the underworld, at last you are to bring vengeance.

The city of Yokohama has changed to a great extent. The city is alive now, no more blood on the street but radiance by the lit skyscrapers. One thing that hasn't changed is perhaps the noises from ships sailing from the port.

"Tell the head-unit to part ways, just don't look too... flashy—while entering the city grounds," you ordered Miko, your valet, who then sends the information with her telepathic ability

The car dropped you at a hotel, with a view facing the Cosmo Clock 21 directly. Just a few metres away from the Port Mafia base, offering you to observe it candidly.

By all means, the first thing you do is to inhale an ashy fume down to your lungs, blowing the excess out afterwards. Nothing is more relaxing than a cigarette, wind sweeping your hair and a dazzling view.

"Such a waste this city has to fall down to the hands of Port Mafia," you said to yourself.

Three days earlier, invitations are sent to the Port Mafia executives for a dinner in the hotel's fine dining, surely bathing in luxury you are.

The door to you room clicks as someone enters. At the corner of your eyes you see a figure of a shorter lady with raven hair—Miko.

"These are the executives of Port Mafia, ma'am," as she handed you papers

"Mori Ogai, Ace, Paul Verlaine, one unnamed personnel called 'Colonel', Nakahara Chuuya, and... Ozaki Kouyou," You reached the end after flipping every page.

"As for the attendees will be; Mori Ogai, Nakahara Chuuya and Ozaki Kouyou—"

Your brows furrowed "That's it?" The suited girl nodded in response.

Miko looked over her Swiss-made hand watch, "You have 3 hours from now until the dinner, Chief," she finished her sentence.

"Alright, let me know when they're here—dismissed," you shrugged, blowing another grey mist to the air,

The poker-faced girl left the room soon after.

All in three hours; enough for you to bathe in scented rose water while the colour splendors of bustling Yokohama Cosmoworld pleases your eyes, getting dolled up with a ritzy French handmade dress.

You never go anywhere without a sidearm. Thereupon the United Kingdom Wembley Mk VI sits gracefully inside your clutch.

Miko is back at your door, knocking, "Chief, 10 minutes until the guests arrive."

The timing can't be any more precise. You open the soaring rosewood door; finding Miko bowing, ready to court you.

Inside the elevator, Miko felt an unrecognizable aroma. She thought it is rather; unusual for your scent to be strong,

"Interesting choice of perfume, Chief, did you wear something different tonight?" She cleared her throat. Miko's questions were genuine, however you are a bit perplexed by it.

"What do you mean? I didn't..." You sniff over your shoulder where you sprayed some scented liquid earlier just to trace hints of the exact perfume you used

"You're smelling something else, Miko—besides I'm certain I used the Yves Saint Laurent Libre Intense we bought the last time we were in Paris, don't you remember?"

"Y-yes, I remember..."

Despite your argument, Miko stands still with hers about you to smell unusual. It's really.... Masculine?

The glass doors opens before you; revealing the dim yet lit by the city view dining, exactly how you like it. The conversation tonight need to be kept confidential, hence you rented the whole floor.

3 minutes forward, your second valet came to announce the arrival of your long awaited guests, "Chief," he bowed to greet you before stating his matters, "Port Mafia's Mori Ogai, executive Nakahara Chuuya and Ozaki Kouyou."

"Good evening—it would be rude to not introduce myself," you greeted the three person entering the room; those who are behind Yokohama's politics and economics, those whose name is feared.

"(L/n) (Y/n)—" before you could finish your sentence, the man shaking your hand grips to it tighter, "(L/n) (Y/n), the Empress of this country's Mafioso Empire—I am Mori Ogai," the long haired man's pupils dilated.

You pleases them to sit at their reserved spot. The grown-haired men sits right across from you, his back facing the giant glass barrier, though you can only see his silhouettes. His executive occupies the seats by him, one on the left and one on the right.

The feasts are served by Michelin Star chefs, with a wide variety of origins; from European, Western to Oriental.

"How do you like the wine?"

One with red hair lifted his glass to toast; "Fantastic," he responded.

"Cabernet Sauvignon—cheers," you grinned at the fine man.

Then it comes down to the real business of the underworld.

You cleared you throat to gather the attention, "Mr. Mori, you may have acknowledged that going backwards to 6 years in the past—the vandalism Port Mafia had caused,"

Mori stiffened, pausing himself to deliver the juicy sirloin steak to his mouth, "I have no clue to what are you talking about, Miss (L/n),"

"Don't play coy with me, Mr. Mori," your tone straighten, turning the air unpleasant,

"Miss (L/n)... mind to elaborate?" The graceful woman in kimono joined.

You took no time to, taking one deep breath before answering, "Property destruction, massacre, blackmail," you place down the cutlery; making a slight cluttering sound

"What happened 6 years ago was not my deeds, Miss (L/n)." You thought Mori sounded so annoying, he sounds far older than his physical appearance.

"It was the previous boss," he tried to assure you,

"Whom you slaughtered by your own filthy hands."

"He was already dying!" The veins in his neck are throbbing.

The Lady Ozaki Kouyou squint-eyed stare at his boss. What everyone in the Port Mafia knew is that the previous boss died out of old-age; and sickness. As to what Mori Ogai had apprised.

"You kill them, you carry their sins, no?" You hide your gun under the table, on your lap, "I want what the Port Mafia had taken from me back."

"And that is?" Kouyou tilted her head. "I do remember my father being shot thrice—my mother and sister lost inside an 'accidental' fire."

"We almost went bankrupt, of course I am the successor but I am only six," cynically said

Mori knew the previous boss held a grudge against the ruling mafioso of Japan; your late father. It was simply out of envy. "How do I redeem?" Mori raised his head

"Your life—give me your life,"

"Do I have an option?"

"Give me Port Mafia,"

Mori is led to such burdensome situation. Life and death situation no more—rather it is death and death.

Either way you are to execute Mori, the poor man didn't really have a choice to begin with.

"I'm sorry, I need to—" Chuuya's words are cut off by his own hands covering his mouth,

"Chuuya what's wrong?" Kouyou frowned, she stood up to give Chuuya a hand.

He ran hurriedly to the restroom, slight knocking the table hence the silverwares blaring to the floor. Kouyou excuses herself before tailing after Chuuya.

The vampire-like man was left alone with you in the room, motionless. A situation like is is just perfect, highly beneficial for you also.

You pull out the gun gifted by your late father—the same gun that brought you to glory in the criminal world; victoriae et sceleris.

"You'll regret it," the lanky man grit his teeth,

"Oh I doubt it." standing up to point the gun across where Mori is, "My forces are more impactful than yours, Mr. Mori... if you were to declare a war."

The first bullet went straight into his neck, "One, for my family,"

Following after, you shot precisely to his heart, "Two, for Yokohama,"

To finish off and the final blow, "And if necessary, for my misery," the last bullet stays still on his forehead,

"Miko—Aakinori," your loyal valets understood their work; to clean up the scene. They were quick to move the body and wash up all the excess blood, "Where do you want him to be buried, Chief?" Miko asked as she remove her gloves,

"Send him to Romania, he reminds me of a vampire," you cringed.

"Chief, the Port Mafia executives," Aakinori added,

"Don't fear it, they'll be on my side soon," you smiled at Miko and Aakinori.

As the two valets prepare the corpse to be shipped, you went searching for Kouyou and Chuuya—the executives.

You found the kimono-wearing lady standing by a vague glass door, "You killed him, didn't you?"

"Mori? Yeah," in a direct way you replied, she thought you were so casual about it; about shooting Port Mafia's president to death and feel absolutely nothing.

She was about to stop you to enter the men's restroom as Chuuya is inside it. "What are you doing?"

"I didn't rent the whole floor for nothing, I'm going in,"

You searched for Chuuya from one stall to another. A single stall was locked, you were positive that he is inside. "Can you open?" You knocked

The door made a tick sound before it swung open, Chuuya is completely knocked out. "Woah, man are you a lightweight?" You offered him a handkerchief

"You're (Y/n)?" He weakly spoke

"Uh... who else am I supposed to be?"

"I see why you resent the Port Mafia so much," He uttered

"Okay and?" You fairly did not understand

"Quit playing dumb, you're trying to make me sympathize with your will,"

"What the heck are you talking about, I'm literally trying to help?"

"I get it now that you survived that fire, stop showing me the same shit over and over again,"

You fell into a ponder, trying to solve which part of Chuuya's story is relevant to you. It was so silent that you can hear a heartbeat.

No it was not yours, it was someone else's.

"Did you hear that?" You looked back to him.

Chuuya's expression dropped, his eyes widened, not answering at all,

"Executive Nakahara?" You try to snap him out.

"What's your ability?" Nakahara Chuuya stared at you, dead serious.

#bungo sd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya imagines #dazai x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #nakahara chuuya #nakaharachuuya #nakahara chūya #bsd x reader #bsd chūya #chuuya hcs #chuuya fanfic

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australianb1tch · 1 year

Text

so inviting, you almost jump in || kent fisher x gn reader

a/n - this is part 2 to weird but fucking beautiful. this part is based on gold rush :)) once again, this isn't proofread

summary - you don't like a gold rush but kent has you stuck in your thoughts and feelings about him

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

You were lying on your bed, staring up at the ceiling reminiscing over the night you had. You had lost track of thought when your phone chimed and the screen lit up.

Enid: are you alright, you seemed in a haze back at the rave'n

you: i'm good, something just happened there that I wasn't expecting, that's all

Enid: you sure? if you ever need to talk about anything we can have a sleepover and talk it over some movies and snacks. we can do it tonight?

you: of course, come over when you're ready. Wednesday can come to if she'd like

3 minutes had passed when you heard a knock on the door. you opened it and saw Enid standing there with a blanket, bag of snacks and her phone. "Hey, where's Wednesday?" you smiled at her.

"She didn't want to come, she wanted to write a page for her novel. Also where can I put these?"

"You can put them on the bed for the time being."

"Now what's been bothering you, you have never acted like this in my time on knowing you. Did someone say something rude or is it something else?" Enid asked concerned.

"I, uh... I think I like someone..."

"Oh.. my.. god, WHO!" she screamed.

"Keep your voice down!" You whisper-shouted, "Also I'm not going to tell you it yet. Tell me who likes who and I'll tell you afterwards."

"Okay so I'm like 90% sure Xavier likes Wednesday, Bianca still likes Xavier, a few guys like Bianca, a few girls like Xavier and Kent..."

Your face dropped at the statement. a few girls like Kent. it felt almost as if your world was going to come crashing down. There was no way he would like you now that there's a few others in probably the same situation as you. Was the Rave'n seriously just some stupid thing you came up with in your head? You knew it felt to good to be true.

Enid continued to rant on about the gossip as you grabbed your laptop and some of the snacks. As she was talking she put on 10 things I hate about you and you two got yourselves comfortable. "So far, that is all I know," she finished off with. You pressed play in hopes that Enid forgot about asking you about who you like.

Halfway through the movie, you felt some pressure on your shoulder. You turned your head and you saw that Enid had fell asleep. You checked your phone and the time read 1:30. You set an alarm for 7 so you wouldn't miss breakfast. You closed your laptop and gently moved Enid so you could switch off the lights. You got back into bed and looked back up the ceiling, hoping you wouldn't fall harder for Kent.

You heard groaning on the other side of the room as your alarm had sounded. You dug your face into the pillow as you took a deep breath. You sat up groggily and stopped the alarm. You looked over to Enid and you both chuckled at each other seeing how bad the other's hair was. You walked into the bathroom and brushed your hair, then you washed your face while Enid cleaned up the remains from the night before. You walked out and went to the walk-in wardrobe and picked out your shoes and outfit, laying it on the bed then helping Enid with the rest of the room. "Thanks y/n, I'll see you down at breakfast," Enid said as she was walking toward the door. You waved to her as she closed the door.

You got changed and headed down to breakfast. You grabbed a mug and poured yourself some tea and grabbed a plate, taking some food before sitting down at an empty table. You stirred the tea slowly, while getting sucked into your thoughts. What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, his blue eyes gleaming and twinkling, like sinking ships on water. It was so inviting, you wanted to jump in but everyone wanted him. You re-focused as those thoughts faded into the grey of the tea cause it could never be. You couldn't dare to dream about him anymore. You drank your tea and you saw Enid and a few other students flooding into the dining hall. She smiled at you and grabbed some food before coming and sitting down opposite you. Wednesday quickly followed. The three of you talked for a bit before you started eating in silence. Your thoughts about Kent quickly chased after you but you kept them out. Your plate was empty after a few minutes and you decided it was time to head back to your dorm.

You left the dining hall as another flood of students was coming in. You walked down the corridor and your hand brushed past someone. You turn your head around and you locked eyes with the guy that took up your head. He seemed to move in slow motion, his hair bouncing ever so slightly with every step he took, falling into place like dominos. Your heart seemed to stop at the sight of him, fireworks and butterflies seemed to replace the food in your stomach. You felt yourself falling for him even harder than the night before but you turned around and kept walking as you knew that falling felt like flying till your bones crushed. You kept repeating in your head 'everybody wants him, you don't like a gold rush'

#kent #kent the siren #kent wednesday #kent x reader #kent fisher #enid sinclair #wednesday netflix #wednesday #taylor swift #gold rush

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istumpysk · 1 year

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Theon I (Theon VII) [Chapter 51]

Theon I otherwise known as A Ghost in Winterfell Part II.

If you haven't already, I strongly recommend reading that post before this one.

So we're all on the same page, I will be operating under the assumption that Theon is both the Hooded Man and the ghost in Winterfell.

"The storm will end today," one of the surviving stableboys was insisting loudly. "Why, it isn't even winter." Theon would have laughed if he had dared. He remembered tales Old Nan had told them of storms that raged for forty days and forty nights, for a year, for ten years … storms that buried castles and cities and whole kingdoms under a hundred feet of snow.

He's getting closer and closer to calling someone a sweet summer child.

+.+.+

He sat in the back of the Great Hall, not far from the horses, watching Abel, Rowan, and a mousy brown-haired washerwoman called Squirrel attack slabs of stale brown bread fried in bacon grease.

Why is there an Arya wildling?

+.+.+

Roose Bolton entered, pale-eyed and yawning, accompanied by his plump and pregnant wife, Fat Walda.

New developments.

+.+.+

"Lord Stannis is outside the walls, and not far by the sound of it. All we need do is reach him." Abel's fingers danced across the strings of his lute. The singer's beard was brown, though his long hair had largely gone to grey.

Hair going grey before the beard?

Has George ever met a man.

+.+.+

Up on the dais, Ramsay was arguing with his father. They were too far away for Theon to make out any of the words, but the fear on Fat Walda's round pink face spoke volumes.

Nothing to worry about, I'm sure.

+.+.+

Theon wondered if he would ever see the Drowned God's watery halls, or if his ghost would linger here at Winterfell. Dead is dead. Better dead than Reek.

Kind of amazed he doesn't consider hell a strong possibility. Lol.

+.+.+

If Abel's scheme went awry, Ramsay would make their dying long and hard. He will flay me from head to heel this time, and no amount of begging will end the anguish. No pain Theon had ever known came close to the agony that Skinner could evoke with a little flensing blade.

<- Daenerys VIII

I hate this, thought Daenerys Targaryen. How did this happen, that I am drinking and smiling with men I'd sooner flay?

+.+.+

Abel would learn that lesson soon enough. And for what? Jeyne, her name is Jeyne, and her eyes are the wrong color. A mummer playing a part. Lord Bolton knows, and Ramsay, but the rest are blind, even this bloody bard with his sly smiles. The jape is on you, Abel, you and your murdering whores. You'll die for the wrong girl.

Does Mance know? I'll let you decided.

"But you said you saw me twice. When was the other time?"

"When King Robert came to Winterfell to make your father Hand," the King-beyond-the-Wall said lightly.

[...]

The night your father feasted Robert, I sat in the back of his hall on a bench with the other freeriders, listening to Orland of Oldtown play the high harp and sing of dead kings beneath the sea. I betook of your lord father's meat and mead, had a look at Kingslayer and Imp . . . and made passing note of Lord Eddard's children and the wolf pups that ran at their heels. - Jon I, ASOS

+.+.+

He had come this close to telling them the truth when Rowan had delivered him to Abel in the ruins of the Burned Tower, but at the last instant he had held his tongue. The singer seemed intent on making off with the daughter of Eddard Stark. If he knew that Lord Ramsay's bride was but a steward's whelp, well …

A grown ass man living out his Bael the Bard fantasies.

+.+.+

The doors of the Great Hall opened with a crash.

A cold wind came swirling through, and a cloud of ice crystals sparkled blue-white in the air. Through it strode Ser Hosteen Frey, caked with snow to the waist, a body in his arms.

There's no blood on Ser Hosteen Frey.

+.+.+

Another murder.

Snow slid from Ser Hosteen's cloaks as he stalked toward the high table, his steps ringing against the floor. A dozen Frey knights and men-at-arms entered behind him. One was a boy Theon knew—Big Walder, the little one, fox-faced and skinny as a stick. His chest and arms and cloak were spattered with blood.

Fox-faced Big Walder has splattered blood all over him.

+.+.+

The body in Ser Hosteen's arms sparkled in the torchlight, armored in pink frost. The cold outside had frozen his blood.

"My brother Merrett's son." Hosteen Frey lowered the body to the floor before the dais. "Butchered like a hog and shoved beneath a snowbank. A boy."

Little Walder's blood had frozen due to the cold.

How is there splattered blood all over Big Walder?

"Don't be stupid," his cousin said. "The sons of the first son come before the second son. Ser Ryman is next in line, and then Edwyn and Black Walder and Petyr Pimple. And then Aegon and all his sons."

"Ryman is old too," said Little Walder. "Past forty, I bet. And he has a bad belly. Do you think he'll be lord?"

"I'll be lord. I don't care if he is." - Bran V, ACOK

"Did you find your cousins, my lord?"

"No. I never thought we would. They're dead. Lord Wyman had them killed. That's what I would have done if I was him." - Reek III, ADWD

+.+.+

Little Walder, thought Theon. The big one. He glanced at Rowan. There are six of them, he remembered. Any of them could have done this. But the washerwoman felt his eyes. "This was no work of ours," she said.

"Be quiet," Abel warned her.

She's not lying.

As much as I'd love to push a new theory, I think we all know Big Walder is the killer.

+.+.+

Lord Ramsay descended from the dais to the dead boy. His father rose more slowly, pale-eyed, still-faced, solemn. "This was foul work."

Does someone want to remind George that Little Walder was Walda's brother, and she should be reacting to his dead body.

+.+.+

For once Roose Bolton's voice was loud enough to carry. "Where was the body found?"

"Under that ruined keep, my lord," replied Big Walder. "The one with the old gargoyles." The boy's gloves were caked with his cousin's blood. "I told him not to go out alone, but he said he had to find a man who owed him silver."

Sure, repeat it.

Big Walder found the body first thing in the morning. Imagine that.

+.+.+

"What man?" Ramsay demanded. "Give me his name. Point him out to me, boy, and I will make you a cloak of his skin."

"He never said, my lord. Only that he won the coin at dice." The Frey boy hesitated. "It was some White Harbor men who taught dice. I couldn't say which ones, but it was them."

The boy hesitates right before incriminating Wyman Manderly, known antagonizer of House Frey. Nicely done, kid.

+.+.+

"My lord," boomed Hosteen Frey. "We know the man who did this. Killed this boy and all the rest. Not by his own hand, no. He is too fat and craven to do his own killing. But by his word." He turned to Wyman Manderly. "Do you deny it?"

The Lord of White Harbor bit a sausage in half. "I confess …" He wiped the grease from his lips with his sleeve. "… I confess that I know little of this poor boy. Lord Ramsay's squire, was he not? How old was the lad?"

Wyman definitely knew something about the boy, Little Walder was betrothed to Wylla Manderly.

Despite that motive, I don't think there's a single reason to believe Manderly did this.

+.+.+

"Nine, on his last nameday."

"So young," said Wyman Manderly. "Though mayhaps this was a blessing. Had he lived, he would have grown up to be a Frey."

Bwhahahahaha.

And he said mayhaps! Lmfao.

+.+.+

Ser Hosteen Frey ripped his longsword from its scabbard and leapt toward Wyman Manderly. The Lord of White Harbor tried to jerk away, but the tabletop pinned him to his chair. The blade slashed through three of his four chins in a spray of bright red blood.

How did he not die?

+.+.+

Up on the dais, Ramsay was arguing with his father.

For once Roose Bolton's voice was loud enough to carry. "Where was the body found?"

Lady Walda gave a shriek and clutched at her lord husband's arm. "Stop," Roose Bolton shouted. "Stop this madness."

Roose just doesn't seem like himself lately. He needs a nap.

+.+.+

"I see you all want blood," the Lord of the Dreadfort said. Maester Rhodry stood beside him, a raven on his arm. The bird's black plumage shone like coal oil in the torchlight. Wet, Theon realized. And in his lordship's hand, a parchment. That will be wet as well. Dark wings, dark words. "Rather than use our swords upon each other, you might try them on Lord Stannis." Lord Bolton unrolled the parchment.

Arnolf Karstark informing the Boltons of Stannis Baratheon's whereabouts.

"Tell me, then. Where are these two trained to fly?"

Maester Tybald did not answer. Theon Greyjoy kicked his feet feebly, and laughed under his breath. Caught!

"Answer me. If we were to loose these birds, would they return to the Dreadfort?" The king leaned forward. "Or might they fly for Winterfell instead?" - Theon I, TWOW

Too bad Stannis knows they're coming.

+.+.+

"His host lies not three days' ride from here, snowbound and starving, and I for one am tired of waiting on his pleasure. Ser Hosteen, assemble your knights and men-at-arms by the main gates. As you are so eager for battle, you shall strike our first blow. Lord Wyman, gather your White Harbor men by the east gate. They shall go forth as well."

We're saving the Night Lamp theory for Theon I TWOW (How did Theon chapters become harder than Bran's?), but I will say they're walking into a trap.

If the Freys are striking first, hopefully that means Team Manderly avoids falling into a lake.

+.+.+

"Singer," he called, "come sing us something soothing." Abel bowed. "If it please your lordship."

[...]

Rowan grasped Theon's arm. "The bath. It must be now."

He wrenched free of her touch. "By day? We will be seen."

"The snow will hide us. Are you deaf? Bolton is sending forth his swords. We have to reach King Stannis before they do."

"But … Abel …"

"Abel can fend for himself," murmured Squirrel.

Rest in peace, Mance Rayder.

+.+.+

Squirrel slipped away, soft-footed as she always was.

Is she off to kill the queen?

No really, why is there an Arya wildling?

+.+.+

Rowan walked Theon from the hall. Since she and her sisters had found him in the godswood, one of them had dogged his every step, never letting him out of sight. They did not trust him. Why should they? I was Reek before and might be Reek again. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with sneak.

Interesting, because the ghost of Winterfell seems to have stopped killing people.

+.+.+

Outside the snow still fell. The snowmen the squires had built had grown into monstrous giants, ten feet tall and hideously misshapen.

Someone please meta the evolution of the snowmen.

More snowmen had risen in the yard by the time Theon Greyjoy made his way back. To command the snowy sentinels on the walls, the squires had erected a dozen snowy lords. One was plainly meant to be Lord Manderly; it was the fattest snowman that Theon had ever seen. The one-armed lord could only be Harwood Stout, the snow lady Barbrey Dustin. And the one closest to the door with the beard made of icicles had to be old Whoresbane Umber. - The Turncloak, ADWD

Sentries crowded into the guard turrets to warm half-frozen hands over glowing braziers, leaving the wallwalks to the snowy sentinels the squires had thrown up, who grew larger and stranger every night as wind and weather worked their will upon them. Ragged beards of ice grew down the spears clasped in their snowy fists. - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

+.+.+

Even the godswood was turning white. A film of ice had formed upon the pool beneath the heart tree, and the face carved into its pale trunk had grown a mustache of little icicles.

Apparently Bran's pulling a Sansa, and speedrunning puberty.

+.+.+

"Winter is coming …"

Rowan gave him a hard look. "You have no right to mouth Lord Eddard's words. Not you. Not ever. After what you did—"

Does someone want to remind George the wildlings do not give a shit about kneelers and their house words.

(Yes, I'm aware of the Rowan Umber theory.)

+.+.+

"You killed a boy as well."

"That was not us. I told you."

"Words are wind." They are no better than me. We're just the same. "You killed the others, why not him? Yellow Dick—"

"—stank as bad as you. A pig of a man."

"And Little Walder was a piglet. Killing him brought the Freys and Manderlys to dagger points, that was cunning, you—"

"Not us." Rowan grabbed him by the throat and shoved him back against the barracks wall, her face an inch from his. "Say it again and I will rip your lying tongue out, kinslayer."

Nothing in this chapter is worthy of an alarm, but I've already established a pattern, lol.

This is more ambiguous than I ever remembered.

"Kill me." There was more despair than defiance in his voice. "Go on. Do me, the way you did the others. Yellow Dick and the rest. It was you."

Holly laughed. "How could it be us? We're women. Teats and cunnies. Here to be fucked, not feared." - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

The wildlings never admit to killing the other men. They only deny killing a boy; that's not an admission of guilt for the others.

If the wildings did kill the men, and George was content with the reader knowing that, why did he leave room for doubt?

+.+.+

Theon knew he should not goad her. In her own way, this one was as dangerous as Skinner or Damon Dance-for-Me. But he was cold and tired, his head was pounding, he had not slept in days.

I hear that's bad for your mental health, Theon Durden.

+.+.+

"I have done terrible things … betrayed my own, turned my cloak, ordered the death of men who trusted me … but I am no kinslayer."

"Stark's boys were never brothers to you, aye. We know."

That was true, but it was not what Theon had meant. They were not my blood, but even so, I never harmed them. The two we killed were just some miller's sons. Theon did not want to think about their mother. He had known the miller's wife for years, had even bedded her. Big heavy breasts with wide dark nipples, a sweet mouth, a merry laugh. Joys that I will never taste again.

But there was no use telling Rowan any of that. She would never believe his denials, any more than he believed hers. "There is blood on my hands, but not the blood of brothers," he said wearily. "And I've been punished."

We revisit one of the bigger obstacles of the Theon Durden theory. If Theon is the Hooded Man, why did he call himself a kinslayer?

I admit the lengthy reflection on the miller's wife doesn't look good here, but I truly don't believe Theon is capable of killing children he suspects are his own.

I'll repeat what I said the last chapter. I think Theon subconsciously blames himself for Robb dying. He will call Robb his brother later in this chapter, and express regret over not being by his side.

And Robb. Robb who had been more a brother to Theon than any son born of Balon Greyjoy's loins. Murdered at the Red Wedding, butchered by the Freys. I should have been with him. Where was I? I should have died with him.

+.+.+

Foolish woman. He might well be a broken thing, but Theon still wore a dagger. It would have been a simple thing to slide it out and drive it down between her shoulder blades. That much he was still capable of, missing teeth and broken teeth and all.

We're soon going to learn Theon is capable of more than just stabbing.

+.+.+

Reek might have done it. Would have done it, in hopes it might please Lord Ramsay. These whores meant to steal Ramsay's bride; Reek could not allow that. But the old gods had known him, had called him Theon. Ironborn, I was ironborn, Balon Greyjoy's son and rightful heir to Pyke. The stumps of his fingers itched and twitched, but he kept his dagger in its sheath.

Aww look at Bran subtly influencing the plot.

+.+.+

When Squirrel returned, the other four were with her: gaunt grey-haired Myrtle, Willow Witch-Eye with her long black braid, Frenya of the thick waist and enormous breasts, Holly with her knife. Clad as serving girls in layers of drab grey roughspun, they wore brown woolen cloaks lined with white rabbit fur. No swords, Theon saw. No axes, no hammers, no weapons but knives.

Jeyne will switch outfits with Squirrel.

I will let you decide whether this grey roughspun with a brown cloak meets girl in grey criteria.

+.+.+

"Even if we do get past the guards, how do you mean to get Lady Arya out?"

Holly smiled. "Six women go in, six come out. Who looks at serving girls? We'll dress the Stark girl up as Squirrel."

Theon glanced at Squirrel. They are almost of a size. It might work. "And how does Squirrel get out?"

Of course the Arya wildling will pretend to be Arya.

+.+.+

Squirrel answered for herself. "Out a window, and straight down to the godswood. I was twelve the first time my brother took me raiding south o' your Wall. That's where I got my name. My brother said I looked like a squirrel running up a tree. I've done that Wall six times since, over and back again. I think I can climb down some stone tower."

I don't understand what's happening here. What is with this girl?

+.+.+

They are doing it all wrong. Real serving girls were always teasing the potboys, flirting with the cooks, wheedling a taste of this, a bite of that. Rowan and her scheming sisters did not want to attract notice, but their sullen silence soon had the guards giving them queer looks. "Where's Maisie and Jez and t'other girls?" one asked Theon. "The usual ones."

"Lady Arya was displeased with them," he lied. "Her water was cold before it reached the tub last time."

Maisie Williams was hired August 7th, 2009. ADWD was released July 12, 2011.

I don't think that name is a coincidence, lol. George is cute.

+.+.+

The Frey men wore the badge of the two towers, those from White Harbor displayed merman and trident. They shouldered through the storm in opposite directions and eyed each other warily as they passed, but no swords were drawn. Not here. It may be different out there in the woods.

Please no. This is the one time I don't want any interference from House Manderly.

+.+.+

Theon led the way up the stairs. I have climbed these steps a thousand times before. As a boy he would run up; descending, he would take the steps three at a time, leaping. Once he leapt right into Old Nan and knocked her to the floor. That earned him the worst thrashing he ever had at Winterfell, though it was almost tender compared to the beatings his brothers used to give him back on Pyke. He and Robb had fought many a heroic battle on these steps, slashing at one another with wooden swords. Good training, that; it brought home how hard it was to fight your way up a spiral stair against determined opposition. Ser Rodrik liked to say that one good man could hold a hundred, fighting down.

That was long ago, though. They were all dead now. Jory, old Ser Rodrik, Lord Eddard, Harwin and Hullen, Cayn and Desmond and Fat Tom, Alyn with his dreams of knighthood, Mikken who had given him his first real sword. Even Old Nan, like as not.

NO.

No, okay? No. You're wrong. She was alive in A Feast For Crows! She could still be at the Dreadfort!

She's not dead until I see the body.

+.+.+

No day had dawned inside this room. Shadows covered all. One last log crackled feebly amongst the dying embers in the hearth, and a candle flickered on the table beside a rumpled, empty bed. The girl is gone, Theon thought. She has thrown herself out a window in despair.

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters … but then her courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing. - Sansa VI, AGOT

+.+.+

A tear ran down her cheek. "Tell him, you tell him. I'll do what he wants … whatever he wants … with him or … or with the dog or … please … he doesn't need to cut my feet off, I won't try to run away, not ever, I'll give him sons, I swear it, I swear it …"

Rowan whistled softly. "Gods curse the man."

"I'm a good girl," Jeyne whimpered. "They trained me."

Sorry about sharing that.

I wanted to quickly say I don't think Jeyne being pregnant serves the story at all. I can't stand that theory.

"Roose has trained you well." She left him there. - The Turncloak, ADWD

+.+.+

"Get her up, turncloak." Holly had her knife in hand. "Get her up or I will. We have to go. Get the little cunt up on her feet and shake some courage into her."

Was that necessary?

+.+.+

We are all dead, Theon thought. I told them this was folly, but none of them would listen. Abel had doomed them. All singers were half-mad.

Rhaegar shade!

+.+.+

In songs, the hero always saved the maiden from the monster's castle, but life was not a song, no more than Jeyne was Arya Stark. Her eyes are the wrong color. And there are no heroes here, only whores. Even so, he knelt beside her, pulled down the furs, touched her cheek. "You know me. I'm Theon, you remember. I know you too. I know your name."

In A Song of Ice and Fire, Theon helps save Jeyne.

+.+.+

Theon slipped his hand through hers. The stumps of his lost fingers tingled as he drew the girl to her feet. The wolfskins fell away from her. Underneath them she was naked, her small pale breasts covered with teeth marks. He heard one of the women suck in her breath.

I apologize again.

It's another Targaryen / Bolton parallel.

The queen had been cloaked and hooded as she climbed inside the royal wheelhouse that would take her down Aegon's High Hill to the waiting ship, but he heard her maids whispering after she was gone. They said the queen looked as if some beast had savaged her, clawing at her thighs and chewing on her breasts. - Jaime II, AFFC

+.+.+

Squirrel had stripped down to her smallclothes, and was rooting through a carved cedar chest in search of something warmer. In the end she settled for one of Lord Ramsay's quilted doublets and a well-worn pair of breeches that flapped about her legs like a ship's sails in a storm.

With Rowan's help, Theon got Jeyne Poole into Squirrel's clothes.

[...]

"I will be right beside you," Theon promised as Squirrel slipped into Lady Arya's bed and pulled the blanket up.

That's the last we'll see of Squirrel.

According to Ramsay she's dead.

If you want Mance Rayder back, come and get him. I have him in a cage for all the north to see, proof of your lies. The cage is cold, but I have made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell. - Jon XIII, ADWD

I guess we'll have to wait and see if Arya wildling is truly dead or managed to escape the castle. My gut tells me she got out. :)

+.+.+

But the guards outside were huddled by the doors, backs turned against the icy wind and blown snow. Even the serjeant did not spare them more than a quick glance. Theon felt a stab of pity for him and his men. Ramsay would flay them all when he learned his bride was gone, and what he would do to Grunt and Sour Alyn did not bear thinking about.

+.+.+

The icy trenches rose around them, knee high, then waist high, then higher than their heads. They were in the heart of Winterfell with the castle all around them, but no sign of it could be seen. They might have easily been lost amidst the Land of Always Winter, a thousand leagues beyond the Wall.

THE CURTAIN OF LIGHT IS REAL.

Do you think this means Jon and Daenerys forge Lightbringer in the Lands of the Long Summer?

+.+.+

"Frenya, Holly, go with them," Rowan said. "We will be along with Abel. Do not wait for us." And with that, she whirled and plunged into the snow, toward the Great Hall. Willow and Myrtle hurried after her, cloaks snapping in the wind.

Quick rundown.

Squirrel was left in Jeyne's bed.

Frenya and Holly will die on the page.

We don't know if Rowan, Myrtle, and Willow survived.

Frenya and Holly dying and eventually being identified ensures Mance will be captured.

This is one of those situations where I'm not sure what I should be hoping for. Dead might be preferable. God help them if they were taken alive.

+.+.+

Madder and madder, thought Theon Greyjoy. Escape had seemed unlikely with all six of Abel's women; with only two, it seemed impossible. But they had gone too far to return the girl to her bedchamber and pretend none of this had ever happened. Instead he took Jeyne by the arm and drew her down the pathway to the Battlements Gate. Only a halfgate, he reminded himself. Even if the guards let us pass, there is no way through the outer wall. On other nights, the guards had allowed Theon through, but all those times he'd come alone. He would not pass so easily with three serving girls in tow, and if the guards looked beneath Jeyne's hood and recognized Lord Ramsay's bride …

Did a single person think any of this through? Lol.

+.+.+

"Reek, is that you?"

Yes, he meant to say. Instead he heard himself reply, "Theon Greyjoy. I … I have brought some women for you."

"You poor boys must be freezing," said Holly. "Here, let me warm you up." She slipped past the guard's spearpoint and reached up to his face, pulling loose the half-frozen scarf to plant a kiss upon his mouth. And as their lips touched, her blade slid through the meat of his neck, just below the ear. Theon saw the man's eyes widen. There was blood on Holly's lips as she stepped back, and blood dribbling from his mouth as he fell.

I don't know about you guys, but I'm picking up on a pattern here.

Osha slit Drennan's throat.

His throat had been opened ear to ear. A ragged tunic concealed the half-healed scars on his back, but his boots were scattered amidst the rushes, and his breeches tangled about his feet. - Theon IV, ACOK

Ygritte and knives.

"I'd cut his throat while he slept. You know nothing, Jon Snow." Ygritte twisted like an eel and wrenched away from him. - Jon V, ASOS

"I'm no crow wife!" Ygritte snatched her knife from its sheath. Three quick strides, and she yanked the old man's head back by the hair and opened his throat from ear to ear. - Jon V, ASOS

Val and knives.

If you force her to marry a man she does not want, she is like to slit his throat on their wedding night. - Jon I, ADWD

All the same, the wildling princess was not beloved of her gaolers. She scorned them all as "kneelers," and had thrice attempted to escape. When one man-at-arms grew careless in her presence she had snatched his dagger from its sheath and stabbed him in the neck. - Jon III, ADWD

The spearwives and their knives.

If the man had touched Jeyne, she might have screamed. Then Holly would have opened his throat for him with the knife hidden up her sleeve. - Theon I, ADWD

Clad as serving girls in layers of drab grey roughspun, they wore brown woolen cloaks lined with white rabbit fur. No swords, Theon saw. No axes, no hammers, no weapons but knives. - Theon I, ADWD

And as their lips touched, her blade slid through the meat of his neck, just below the ear. - Theon I, ADWD

The point I'm trying to make is that none of the previous victims were stabbed or had their throat cut.

The Ryswell man-at-arms was thrown from the battlements.

The naked Frey squire died from exposure.

The Flint crossbowan was found in the stables with a broken skull.

Yellow Dick was found in a snowdrift with his penis cut off, and shoved into his broken mouth.

I've watched enough Criminal Minds to know none of this fits their pattern of criminal behaviour.

"These dead were all strong men," said Roger Ryswell, "and none of them were stabbed. The turncloak's not our killer." - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

Looking back, I think that line was meant to cast doubt on the spearwives.

+.+.+

The second guard was still gaping in confusion when Frenya grabbed the shaft of his spear. They struggled for a moment, tugging, till the woman wrenched the weapon from his fingers and clouted him across the temple with its butt. As he stumbled backwards, she spun the spear around and drove its point through his belly with a grunt.

Jeyne Poole let out a shrill, high scream.

+.+.+

On the drawbridge, Frenya stopped and turned. "Go on. I will hold the kneelers here." The bloody spear was still clutched in her big hands.

I have to keep highlighting these incredible women, but it still makes no sense why they're doing this.

+.+.+

Theon was staggering by the time he reached the foot of the stair. He slung the girl over his shoulder and began to climb. Jeyne had ceased to struggle by then, and she was such a little thing besides … but the steps were slick with ice beneath soft powdery snow, and halfway up he lost his footing and went down hard on one knee.

Theon's able to carry Jeyne up stairs in feet of snow and ice. I doubt Jeyne is any less than one hundred pounds.

He's not as weak as Barbrey Dustin thinks he is.

+.+.+

As he leaned up against a merlon, breathing hard, Theon could hear the shouting from below, where Frenya was fighting half a dozen guardsmen in the snow. "Which way?" he shouted at Holly. "Where do we go now? How do we get out?"

The fury on Holly's face turned to horror. "Oh, fuck me bloody. The rope." She gave a hysterical laugh. "Frenya has the rope." Then she grunted and grabbed her stomach. A quarrel had sprouted from her gut. When she wrapped a hand around it, blood leaked through her fingers. "Kneelers on the inner wall …" she gasped, before a second shaft appeared between her breasts. Holly grabbed for the nearest merlon and fell. The snow that she'd knocked loose buried her with a soft thump.

Shouts rang out from their left. Jeyne Poole was staring down at Holly as the snowy blanket over her turned from white to red.

Rest in peace, Frenya and Holly.

Quick question for the audience, did you prefer this or Theon throwing Miranda over the ramparts?

+.+.+

The wind was howling, and he and the girl were trapped.

The crossbow snapped. A bolt passed within a foot of him, shattering the crust of frozen snow that had plugged the closest crenel. Of Abel, Rowan, Squirrel, and the others there was no sign. He and the girl were alone. If they take us alive, they will deliver us to Ramsay.

Theon grabbed Jeyne about the waist and jumped.

He did it. He remembered his name.

Final thoughts:

Of course I would have to do Theon and locusts back-to-back. What did I expect?

I have a confession to make. Ever since Davos left the story, and Theon stopped being Reek, he's been my favourite POV.

Don't worry, I still hate him.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #theon i #theon vii

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vecna-is-here · 2 years

Text

A pop of colour

Pairing: Peter Ballard x F! Reader

Note: Peter is NOT Henry Creel / Vecna in this, just a friendly orderly

Warnings: none I think?

Summary: Y/N is training as a nurse in Hawkins Laboratory, but when the new orderly comes into her life it changes everything. He’s a pop of colour in the never ending white.

You had been an orderly at Hawkins Laboratory for three years when Dr Brenner gave you the chance to train as a nurse. You had always been smart and a quick learner too, so you decided to do it. The other nurse, Philippa, was an old and mean woman and all the children hated her. The amount of work and the hours of studying you’d have to do didn’t scare you off: you were determined to make it work.

You still helped out as an orderly whenever you could because the children were rather fond of you. A little girl who went by the name ‘011’ was shyer than the others, but also more gifted - which made her unpopular. The others, especially the older kids, were often bullying her so she’d usually sit next to you in the rainbow room and you made sure the others were behaving themselves towards her.

October 17th, 1983

You sat in the rainbow room with an anatomy textbook opened on your lap. The coloured drawings and figures within were a big contrast to your white skirt, the white floor, the white walls… Everything there was white, except for a bold rainbow painted across the walls. At least white looked good on you, it was nice with your dark hair.

Papa came through the door and walked towards 003, he asked whether he was ready for another lesson. His hair had grown grey over the years but he still had his severe expression, you wondered whether he ever smiled. Another person had entered the room, but you only noticed him when he was standing in front of you. His name was Peter Ballard, the new orderly who arrived a few weeks ago. Peter was a tall man and handsome man, his eyes a bright shade of blue and his blonde hair looked so soft and it curled ever so slightly. Whenever he was near you felt your cheeks heat up, he made you feel so… shy, and lightheaded.

You looked up to meet his keen eyes and he gave you a little smile

‘Oh, hello…’ you said distractedly and scooted over to make room for him on the bench. You had been trying to contain your emotions but the mere sight of him made you burn.

He stretched out his hand, as if he wanted you to give him your book. ‘Just a moment.’ you muttered and turned back to your studies. He playfully grabbed it from your hands and sat down beside you with a grin.

‘Peter!’ you scowled.

‘What?’, he asked innocently.

‘I need to study.’

‘Do you?’, he raised his brow and looked at you with a curious expression.

‘Yes!’ you scoffed and tried take the the book back from him. He was much taller than you so there was no way you’d get it back.

‘Let’s see…’ he said and started flipping though the pages with a focused gaze. You rolled your eyes ever so slightly but of course he had seen it. He shook his head with an amused smile and cast his eyes down again, a small strand of blonde hair fell onto this forehead. You sat in silence and watched him carefully choose something to ask you. You wanted to brush that soft curl from his face so badly…

‘Can you tell me… the name of this tendon?’ he suddenly asked and showed you a drawing.

‘That’s a muscle, and it’s called the flexor carpi.’ you said, you didn’t even have to think about the answer. He seemed impressed and asked more questions, which you all answered flawlessly.

‘I think… that you secretly have powers, like them.’ he whispered and looked at the children. Your eyes grew big and you felt the corners of your mouth curl up. ‘Either that or you’re uncannily intelligent.’

‘Oh… I would have found out by now… if I had powers I mean… thank you…’ you uttered, feeling silly for him much his compliment meant to you. The bend in your voice made it all even worse.

‘You should have a little more faith in yourself.’

‘That’s what I told Eleven yesterday.’ you admitted.

‘See?’ he said and blinked slowly before looking up from the book to meet your eyes.

‘Thank you, Peter.’ you blushed.

He said nothing in return but gave you a sincere smile. He closed the book and gave it to you, his fingers brushed yours for a moment and his touch tingled your skin and left you yearning for more. A dozen thoughts crossed your mind at once: how could you ever be with him? Papa would never allow it. And besides: Peter was just being friendly, he would never feel the same about you…

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pedropascalsx · 2 years

Text

be still my beating heart.

max phillips x reader!

no reader descriptions - just that she has a beating heart!

warnings: none! this is pure fluff. and it’s the only time i’ve ever written fluff so please bare with me… i tried!

wc: 454.

He was spread out across the black leather sofa… the one that you not-so-secretly hate. You dislike the way it feels sticky against your warm skin, when the weather is hotter.

A white t-shirt clings to his broad shoulders and he’s resting in his favourite worn grey sweatpants.

Your heart swells at the sight of him. He gives you a flash of his most beautiful smile and a welcoming nod before continuing to scribble down notes in the margins and across the pages of the dog-eared book he is clutching onto. Reading for what you can only assume by the state of the thing, must be for the millionth time!

Ignoring the rumble of your tummy, you walk over and climb on top of him. Head resting in the crook of his neck, and legs intertwining with his.

His free arm drapes across your waist and he peppers a few loving kisses on the top of your head as you nuzzle your nose against the soft skin of his neck.

“How was work, baby?” he murmurs into your hair, and you let out a telling sigh. He picks up your reluctance to talk and pops the book on the coffee table beside the sofa.

You close your eyes tightly and one of his hands begins to run up and down the length of your arm in the most comforting manner - occasionally squeezing you tightly. You take a deep inhale to flood your senses with the warm scent of his cologne and his own intoxicating woodsy smell.

You hear his fingers tap across the screen of his smartphone and moments later he whispers the words you needed to hear the most, “Ordered you a pizza, baby.”

You dot a few kisses on his neck and giggle at his sweetness. A warmth spreading across your whole chest as both of his arms wrap you tighter than ever before. Holding you like it’s the only thing he needs and right now, it’s the only thing you need.

He can feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest against his, the only heartbeat between you both, and one he now claims as his own; one shared heartbeat between two fools in love.

The only heartbeat in the whole entire world that matters to him, and the only one that has meant a single thing to him since he lost the beat of his own.

And for the next 6 months whilst you’ll still possess a beating organ, he’ll savour and embrace every moment spent feeling it against his stilled heart. And after that, he’ll relish in the feeling of you being his girl for all eternity.

“I love you, Max” you whisper into his neck.

“I love you, baby.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #max phillips #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x reader #bloodsucking bastards #fluff #my fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction

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waldensblog · 1 year

Text

Alright, I’m doing it. I am reading Shadow and Bone.

For context, I watched the show, but have never read the series before. Now, without further ado...

Alina: I found Alina a bit irritating at the beginning, because she just seemed to be absolutely obsessed with Mal. Ana in the first few pages says the two are “too attached” to each other, and I felt that way watching the show, with these feelings amplified here. He seemed to have a life, identity, friends, outside of her, but she just kind of waited for him to come back. I loved seeing her grow at the Little Palace when she finally let go of Mal, and embraced who she is as a Grisha, started to have genuine friendships with Genya, Marie, Nadia, and hang around other Grisha. I loved her friendship with Genya so much. It was excellent growth in her, and I loved seeing it. I was a bit frustrated at the end, the way she kind of abandons everyone and runs off with Mal - on the one hand I get it - she doesn’t have the power to stop anything, and she’s saving Mal, but on the other hand, she abandoned a bunch of people to the Volcra, it’s not that heroic, but in a way, that makes it more interesting. I definitely think Alina’s major character flaw is her obsession with Mal, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she kind of regresses in the second book while with him. I generally like Alina, but at times she frustrates me.

Mal / Malina: Mal’s character is... not my favourite, but I don’t hate him at this point. At the start he’s a friend who has a life outside his friendship with Alina - he has other friends, an identity of his own, hobbies, etc. He gets pissed at Alina at the Little Palace for getting a boyfriend, basically, and makes his jealousy her problem. It’s fine that he didn’t initially have feelings for her - which probably has a lot to do with the fact that she was a sickly girl with no sense of self - but he made it her problem and was rude. He does at least apologize later and own up to it, but it’s obvious that her past with the Darkling is not a subject to discuss, which is really a shame, because... she should be able to discuss her feelings with her friend, but apparently, cannot.

I know she’s supposed to have a crush on Mal, but I just don’t ship it. Normally a friends-to-lovers trope is one I can vibe with, in this case, I don’t. They grew up in an orphanage together, in the same household, so it really gives me brother/sister vibes. In fact, the first time I watched the show, I assumed that was how I was supposed to view them. I also can’t help but feel like... her crush on Mal is almost more told than shown. When Mal is introduced, I am told he has blue eyes. This was the extent of the description I had for a while, but as soon as the Darkling showed up... that was another description altogether. I don’t hate Mal at this point, and I don’t ship Malina.

The Darkling / Darklina:

The Darkling has survived centuries and seen Grisha persecution, endless wars fought on behalf of the monarchy, and he wants to liberate Ravka. His methods? I don’t agree with, but his mission isn’t a bad one, so I understand why some Grisha and soldiers were cheering at the end for him. As I was reading, I was thinking “damn I wish these soldiers would get class consciousness and stop hating Grisha, realizing the King is really the enemy, as he makes them all fight for him!”. The Darkling tries to do just that here. He’s a villain from Alina’s POV (”Fine, make me your villain”), which I think is mostly an effect of 1st person POV - imagine reading these events from his POV. He isn’t a hero, he isn’t a good guy - I’d say antagonist yes, and morally grey.

As soon as Alina meets the Darkling, we get quite the description. His silky black hair, grey quartz eyes, sharp jaw. His strong arm catches her after the initial touch which she feels an immediate connection with (I know, I know, it’s because he’s a living amplifier - but still, all the “literally turns you on” jokes are too easy here!) Later we hear he has a soft voice, a laugh she loves, and she’s eager to impress him. She’s very actively thirsting for him in a way she didn’t really seem to do for Mal. When they kiss for the first time after months of dancing around it all, she noted that she’s been kissed before, but this was something else. There’s a major spark here. I think the feelings are mutual too. When Ivan turns a corner, he has a knowing smile. As a heartrender, Ivan would know if the Darkling seriously had 0 feelings, and in that moment with Ivan, it reads to me like Ivan knew. Later, of course, he gifts her the black Kefta, with his symbol necklace, which is like the Grishaverse equivalent of wearing your boyfriend’s sweater. He wants everyone to know they’re a thing. I think he was really sincerely hurt (and probably surprised by the hurt) when she ran off. She was growing, becoming comfortable as a Grisha, everything going well, and then she just left, no explanation, because his mother said some stuff. Yeah I’d be in pain too. I don’t condone his behaviour when he finds her again, not at all. I think his feelings are still there, as evidenced by the tent kiss, and they are mutual. Despite everything, there is still feelings, still a connection. Things aren’t over. I find myself still ultimately shipping it - even if there’s obviously problematic elements, because of what they initially had, what things can be - basically I just want Aleks to get some therapy, but I know that ain’t gonna happen lol.

Also, when the Darkling said “Can I come to you tonight”, Alina hesitated but my thirsty ass would have been like “Fuck yeah” in a heartbeat. Ben’s performance gave me a crush on his character (and actor) and is isn’t dissuaded here (though I dig show Darkling more as he’s more obviously grounded in humanity - again, probably a consequence of the show being 3rd person POV vs the book being 1st person POV). I am definitely pro Darkling and Darklina.

Baghra:

Baghra is also morally grey to me. I neither hate nor love her. On the bad, she is an abusive instructor, hitting her students when they fail to perform, and she definitely chooses what information to give in a manipulative way. She does, however, ultimately help Alina, or in her mind she does, and Alina’s perspective too. She warns Alina about the Darkling, and helps her escape, saying she loves her son and doesn’t think he’s past redemption yet. On the other hand, by imparting this information here, now, Alina doesn’t get the chance to confront the Darkling and ask his side (which I find weird - she didn’t like Baghra, but immediately trusts her over her new boyfriend who has been by this point in the story only been shown to help her). It’s also rather frustrating when she calls Alina a “foolish girl” for being involved with the Darkling... like what the hell, it’s not like YOU SAID ANYTHING, FOR WEEKS/MONTHS!!!!! So yes, my feelings are neither pro or anti, just... she’s grey to me. I’ll need to see how she develops in future books to know where I stand.

Next Up: I will wait for season 2 to read the next one, so that I am thoroughly surprised by the show!

#shadow and bone #captain's log #alina starkov #pro alina #anti mal oretsev #sort of #anti malina #technically #darklina #for sure #anti baghra #not really but for tagging purposes i suppose i am critical in some ways of her

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dasy002 · 2 years

Text

SHUTTERED HEART 2

Main masterlist| Actor masterlist

Past Scarlett Johansson x fem!reader

Present Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Warnings: angst (?), some bad words, I pretended reader wrote some famous songs but all the rights go to the real authors!!

Songs: "Happier than ever" Billie Eilish | "Cherophobia" Martina Antilli | "Lost cause" Billie Eilish

This is a part two of the previous story. The idea was given to me by an amazing girl on wattpad!

Love ya all

Daisy 💜

It’s been years since the day Scarlett left your house stepping on your heart. And you haven’t been doing well.

If earlier going out drinking and fucking random girls in bars was a once a week thing, now it became a routine. Going to clubs, getting drunk as fuck, having sex with some chicks, sleeping till noon and then starting over again.

That’s when the press started to notice, and that’s why you hate being a famous singer. Everyone always finds out what you’re doing, no secrets. The first pics started to appear on the cover pages of the magazines, they pictured you smoking weed, drinking and making out with strangers. They started calling you whore, slut, drug addict and more. At that point you had hit rock bottom, you weren’t even able to do music anymore.

That’s when your mother suggested you go away for a while. “Knowing she’s far away from you, will make you feel better (y/n/n).” she said as you walked past the airport’s gate.

Everyone says new home, new life. Well that didn’t apply to you, at least not in the first few months. Your routine didn’t change at all, until one day walking down Sunset Boulevard you saw a young boy sitting on a paper box while playing the guitar. At this point, while the music flies in the hot hair of Los Angeles,you feel a void start growing inside of you. You missed singing, the hard wood of the guitar under your fingers, the vibrations of the strings as you pinch them.

That’s when you decided you wanted to change and you were ready to ask for help. You wanted your life back

In the meantime Scarlett went on with her life, or at least that’s what she told herself. For how much she tried she couldn’t take you out of her mind. The pain in your eyes, the tears and your outburst still hunted her dreams after years. How did she end up hurting you so much when avoiding it was all she cared about and the reason why she ended things between you two? She couldn’t find an answer.

When your not so healthy lifestyle appeared all over the internet and magazines things started getting worse, cause she knew it was all her fault. She wanted to go visit you and try to help you move on, but then she would find herself wondering ‘Is it really a good idea or will I make her suffer more?’

Well by the time she decided you had already flown all the way to sunny California.

Then there was Rose. Gosh this little girl missed you like crazy, but her mom had not the guts to tell her you were gone forever. So her answers were always the same “(y/n) is really busy little bean. I’m sorry.” or “She’s not in town right now Rosie.”

Anyway, whatever excuses Scarlett puts up for her daughter she couldn’t bear the sadness in the kids eyes. It broke her heart day after day, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell her the truth , cause Rose would have ended up hating her for sending her ‘mama’ away.

In the end it was her fault.

TIME SKIP 4 MONTHS LATER (Cause I can)

Therapy isn’t as stupid as you’ve thought, it’s actually bringing you somewhere. It’s still too early to say you’re as good as new and ready to start again, but you’re working on it.

You’ve started understanding that you live for no one, but for yourself. That’s what you and Scarlett had was amazing, yeah, but you can’t go on remaining clinging to the past cause you’re afraid of what will happen in the future

And with that said you’ve started writing songs again. Addison (not me in love with Addison Montgomery in grey’s), your therapist, told you that expressing everything you’ve felt and are still feeling, in the form of music, helps to metabolize everything.

And she was right. The more songs you write the more you can look back at things in an objective way and let them go.

“When I’m away from you

I’m happier than ever

Wish I could explain it better.”

It took you time to admit it, and probably this is the hardest song you ever wrote, but as soon as you said it out loud for the first time you felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your chest.

You’re better without her, You’re happy away from her. And you don’t know why it took you so long to admit it.

TIME SKIP 2 MONTHS LATER (Cause I can)

So everything was going good, you were writing music again, you were clean both from alcohol and from weed. You even met a cute redhead (I’m obsessed with red haired girls) on the beach and went on a few dates with her.

So yeah, everything was going good until it wasn’t.

You don’t even know when it started to go south again. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even have time to realize it. One day you were happy, the next one you were afraid of this happiness.

“Come te la spiego la paura di essere felici

Quando non l’hanno capita nemmeno i miei amici”

(How do I explain you the fear of being happy

When not even my friends have understood it)

“It's hard to explain!” That's what you say to Addison when she asks you what’s wrong. And you’re not lying. You don’t know how to explain it , cause it doesn’t even make sense to you. It’s like a voice inside of your brain, everytime you almost reach happiness, whisper “You don’t deserve it.” and you believe it.

“Come te la spiego la spiego tutta la pazienza

Che ci metto ma non riesco a vivere senza

Qualcosa che mi opprime

Che mi indichi la fine

Perchè ho un cervello che è strafatto di spine."

(How do I explain to you all the patience

That I put into it but I can’t live without

Something that oppresses me

That shows me the end

Cause my brain is stoned with thorns)

And you tried, God knows how much you tried to fight it in the beginning. But then you start growing tired and this feeling of constant fear of being happy starts to feel good. ‘If I’m not happy, I can’t get hurt again.’ that’s what you say to yourself every time a part of you try to look for an ounce of happiness.

“Questa è la mia Cherofobia

No, non è negatività

Questa è la mia Cherofobia

Fa paura la felicità

Questa è la mia Cherofobia

Ma tu, resta…”

(This is my Cherophobia

No, it’s not negativity

This is my Cherophobia

Happiness scares me

This is my Cherophobia

But you, stay…)

All of your friends, old or new, it doesn't matter, start to leave. They don’t understand you, for them you’re just being exaggerated, fake. And they don’t want a friend that would slow them or stop them from doing what they want. So one by one starts to leave you behind.

Only one sticks by your side, Elizabeth Olsen. She’s such a sweetheart, she never leaves your side and helps you fight the voices in your head.

And the rest is history.

TIME SKIP 1 YEAR LATER (Cause I can)

“You ain’t nothin’ but a lost cause

And this ain’t nothin’ like it once was”

That’s the lyric of your last song that keeps repeating in your mind, as you walk hand in hand with your girlfriend Lizzie in Central Park.

Yes, you’re back in New York, but only for a couple of weeks. You accompanied Elizabeth on her press tour for her new movie ''Doctor Strange 2” (I’m in love with villain Wanda guys).

And yes, you and Lizzie got together in the end. It took you a while to definitely get over Scarlett, Elizabeth was there by your side and in the end you find yourself being madly in love with her.

You two are chatting about where to go for dinner tonight when you see a very familiar face sitting on a bench. You look at Lizzie strangely calm and point to her where Scarlett was sitting, she looks at you and asks “You wanna go talk to her or we run away like two crazy girls?”. You love how she always tries to make you laugh when you have to face something that freaks you out. You found it cute. You shake your head smiling and answer “I guess we can just walk away like two normal people, Liz.” “But we aren’t normal, kitten…” she adds while smirking at you, and in that moment you know something crazy has just come up to her mind. She grabs your hand and starts running round the park dragging you behind her, as she giggles so loud that all the pigeons fly away and half of the park turns to look at you. But you don’t care as you pull her arm lightly, making her almost fall over you before connecting your lips in a messy kiss.

At the hearing of loud giggles and the rustle of wings, she takes her eyes away from her book and starts looking for the source of all this mess. And that’s when she sees you, lips locked with her ex co star Elizabeth and a dumb smile on your face. She remembers that smile, it’s the one you make whenever you are truly happy, and seeing you smiling for something that it wasn’t her hurt. But she doesn’t have the right to feel betrayed, in the end it was all her fault.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a lost cause

And this ain’t notin’ like it once was.”

#writing #marvel girl #marvel #marvel actress #marvel actors #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #celebrity x reader #fem reader

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arts-butthound · 1 year

Text

A Day in London

Summary: Eudora arrives in London and settles in with her old friend.

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: Ominis x F!Hufflepuff student, fluff, SFW, stubborn idiots.

Part 2 to Letters to Ominis. Part 1 here though it’s not necessary to understand whats going on

read on AO3

It had been six months since she’d last seen Ominis Gaunt, the longest period of time in years. During her summers away from Hogwarts, it was only a measly two months. Two months of knowing that he and Sebastian were in that wretched cottage in Feldcroft, technically old enough to care for themselves without Solomon. Two months of writing to them from her own lonely little cottage a country away, with only her mother and the farm animals. But six months? It was excessive and empty.

Eudora spent her time on the train thinking of how she was to conduct herself around him. What could she say? Certainly not what she felt. Not what she’d spent those six months gagging down since their summer in France. It was stupid, and she knew it, to answer that damned letter before she had the sense to think it through. Sending off her answer not even a full hour after his letter had been received. She only had the sense to kick herself for her recklessness a full two days after her own letter had been sent.

She loved him.

In the way a woman loves a man.

The way poetry loves the ear.

She loved him. It was incandescent and warm, and she could almost pinpoint every moment that had lead up to this. But the cataclysm of it had been France, with the summer sunset in his hair and that easy smile he wore as he listened to her and Sebastian make asses of themselves. At first she had told herself it was purely an aesthetic admiration- no one could say he wasn’t handsome. It was a small infatuation that would pass. But it did not. Not with the way she fantasized about being tucked into the safety of his chest, or imagined the things he could whisper to her in secret, or how she hung on his every letter.

Eudora hated loving him because it proved her mother right about boys and girls being friends. Nothing stung more than that. With each letter, Eudora held back writing down her longing for him. However, sometimes, something of that longing would sneak onto the page. She’d either have to cross it outor play it off as friendly teasing. Sometimes it seemed as if Ominis, too, might be more than complimenting her, but she could not read his own crossed out lines and such a thing felt like wishful thinking.

So she risked all-propriety, self-respect, and both their reputations- to visit a man she told herself that she was content to stay friends with. Now she was to spend a little more than a week with him, pretending all was as it had always been.

At least she was no stranger to keeping her true thoughts to herself. Eudora would survive, if only just.

The train station was abuzz with a noise so loud that Eudora could feel it through her shoes and in her finger tips. People jostled around her en mass. Shrieking breaks. Steam being let off. People called the names of those they wished to find-drowned out in all the others calling in the same way. Yellow and grey bricks. Endless panels of glass and sky above her. And she stood there, completely overwhelmed by it all. It seemed life threatened to constantly grow bigger with each new experience, for never before had she been in, let alone seen, such a swell of people in one place before. She’d thought the same of Hogwarts in those first days, but the castle had expanses of empty, quiet places, where noise dissipated into a gentle and unintelligible humming. There was time and room to adjust to the newness of it all.

King’s Cross station was not the castle, and there was no room to adjust before stepping into the crowds. They jostled, bumped into, and pushed aside anything and everything. She was all but swallowed by it, her red hair being the only thing that set her apart from the crowds. But Eudora would not be frozen. She was four years removed from the little girl who had only known the farm and the expanse of empty fields. With a stiff upper lip, she marched into the crowds, very grateful that she did not have a large bag to struggle with in all this.

‘Accio Ominis’ she thought to herself, peering over hundreds of heads to the best of her ability. Just as she began to lose hope in finding just one person like this, she spotted him- there against a wall in a brown suit, with eyes closed and fingers tapping against his arm idly. Suddenly, she was pushing forward with as much vigor as the rest of the crowd.

“Ominis!” she cried out, waving in spite of knowing that he wouldn’t see it. His head bobbed up, ear searching for her origin. He looked nearly the same, despite their time apart, with his hair ever combed back, being well dressed, and a little narrow for a man-though much more broad than he’d been as a boy. But the sight of him glowed anew, for it felt as if it had been an eternity since she’d last been near him. She struggled to free herself from the flow of people, launching herself at him as her arms curled around his middle. The warmth of him, the sound of his joy, the smell of him-this train station, in all its chaos, could not take that from her. “Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas.” Ominis laughed, hugging her back in kind. He reached behind him, searching the wall before finding a long wooden cane. “I hope your journey wasn’t too taxing.”

“Perish the thought! It was rather dull, I’m sure you’re happy to hear…Is that how you’ve been hiding your wand?”

“Oh this? Yes.” He pulled at the handle of the cane, releasing it from its wooden sheath and revealing only a small part of his old friend. “It’s…the best way I can describe it is muffled, but it gets the job done around the non magic folk.” He sheathed his wand again and offered her his right arm. “Where’s your bag? Allow me to take it.”

“Very kind of you,” Eudora sounded as a cat who had gotten the cream, “but unnecessary. I may have allowed myself the small luxury of an enchantment. My little reticule here?” she spun the beaded green bag around on her fingers, “It can fit anything I should have need of and scarcely be any heavier! I saw it in Gladrags over in Hogsmeade and thought it rather apt for my trip here.”

“Very useful, indeed. I hope it didn’t cost you too much?”

“Oh, nothing too terrible. An expense, surely, but I’ve some savings.”

“Shall we, then?”

“Let’s! I’m quite eager to see how you’ve been living-if you’ve been honest with me.” She nudged him while taking his arm, causing the both of them to sway as they entered back into the flow of bodies.

“It’s not impressive, as I believe I’ve told you.”

“Oh please, you act as if you’re the only one living in a single room.”

“How modest, from a woman living in a castle.” He said as he led them out of the train station.

Eudora had never been to a city before, only ever having known the countryside and various villages. Ornate buildings blocked out large swaths of the sky, carriages commanded the road ways, and people flowed up and down the sidewalks as blood in veins. The air tasted foul, just as Ominis had said, and the sky was a murky gray. Mud, or what she thought was mud, caked the streets, and there was the pungent inescapable smell of urine. It would appear that Ominis’ natural pessimism was well earned yet again. For all that could be beautiful about the city, there was soot and ash. She paid special attention to pick up her skirts when crossing the street.

She had expected much more, to be frank.

If there was one thing that she couldn’t disparage was that she looked the part. In planning for the trip, there had been a quiet anxiety of looking too much like some dull little country girl amongst the distinguished and elegant ladies of the city. That traitorous little voice inside her head thought-that if he could see- she would want to look like a woman that a man would be proud to be seen with. Of course, she also reasoned that she should look respectable in respected society-as a matter of not embarrassing herself first and foremost. She wore her hair up and bundled under a small brimmed hat and decorative pins, a pinstripe skirt and dark blue coat. Amongst the women of the city now, she hoped she pulled it off. Being on Ominis’ arm, like this? She felt like a proper lady.

As they walked to his apartment building, they spoke of grand mischief, gossip, and what could not be properly explained in letters. They spoke of Sebastian, predicting what he was doing at that moment, betting on what he could possibly be studying now (Ominis became rather quiet and dark here, a sinking feeling apparently deep in his belly before he made a hopeful guess.) They hoped their friend was taking care of himself.

It was an old, tall building; brick built with fading yellow stone-stained black by soot, and took up a whole corner of the street. Nothing about it struck one as lovely, but it was a place reserved for wizarding kind, a safe haven in the bustle of a grand muggle city. That much had to be appreciated. As unassuming as it was on the outside, inside was as if everything that could possibly exist was hammered onto the walls. A flying book smacked into Ominis’ face as soon as the main doors closed behind them, Eudora held her mouth shut to refrain from laughing. From behind closed doors, bursts of light, sound, smoke came from the spaces underneath. Wands held out in the open, waving away notices, childish pranks, or lifting objects to higher floors. People talking comfortably in doorways.

Ominis lived on the third floor, down the hall to the left. It was hard to make locks that wizards couldn’t just alohamora themselves past, but as locks were needed-locks they had. He produced a small glowing key from an inner coat pocket and stuck it in the door, letting them in.

He hadn’t been being modest when he said it was a humble room. As Eudora walked inside she noted the following; a bed, neatly made, a desk stacked with books and piles of papers, a wash basin and jug, a small couch by the window, a small bin by the door, a dresser, and a narrow fireplace. There was little color and the window bled the place of what was left by letting in the December light. But it smelled of wood ash and what could only be distinctly Ominis. Eudora put her hands to her hips and nodded resolutely. “It’s not near as bad as you made it sound. I’d say it just needs a woman’s touch. With your permission, I could make this right more comfortable for you in just two days. Then you shouldn’t need to be so bashful about it.” His soft laughter caught her attention and she turned to face him. Ominis had not moved from the doorway, indeed leaning into the doorjamb. Blind eyes gazing into the room. “What’s so funny?”

“Eudora Ferguson-ever in need to fix things.” He said.

“What? I can and do leave well-enough alone, often! I don’t have to fix things.”

“Yes, you do. You just can’t help yourself. You’re quite the busy-body.”

“Name three instances where I couldn’t not fix something. I’ll wait.”

And then he smirked. Cracking his shoulders, walking towards her, Ominis began to count. “You compulsively fixed a race war for a world you had only just been introduced to, you went along with Sebastian’s antics to fix Anne, you patched and darned holes in your friends clothes whenever they had need of it-which was often. It was Hogwarts after all. You fixed a good deal of poacher activities in the valley, you regularly made yourself available as a teachers assistant, you worked tirelessly to keep your mother’s anxieties low, you visit the grave of Professor Fig to keep it tidy because there is no one left of his family to maintain it, you know many cures for animals ailments and injuries, you helped fix up Mr. Sallow’s cottage when Sebastian took possession of it-”

“I said three, you ass.” Eudora snarked as he came to stand right in front of her. He was filling out more into a man by the day it seemed. There was the start of a mustache growing on his lip, his suit made him look older-more distinguished, and his hair was just a bit longer. There were a myriad of small changes that should go unnoticed in him, that she should not take note of, as his friend. She readjusted her glasses that had slipped from her nose.

“It’s good to have you here, Eudora. I so dearly missed mocking you.”

“The cruelties I suffer for your amusement, sir. I should say I am abused.”

“However shall you regain your dignity?”

As she was about to cleverly retort back, the floor began to violently shake beneath her-the paper on the desk began to scatter, and a terribly loud rumbling shook her skull. “Ominis?” but her voice was drowned out by the noise. The entire room began to shake, a high pitch screeching stung through the air. She tumbled into Ominis’ side, sending him back a few paces against a bed post. She couldn’t bear it, the sound- the sound! Her fingers clawed into his shirt. Turning her head, outside the window was a train being trailed by a fat smoke stack.

It took another minute or two for the train to fully pass and the sound to follow it. “Is it that late already?” Ominis mused. “Terribly sorry, pet. Suppose I forgot to warn you about that. Alright there?” He gave her back a friendly pat.

She was wide-eyed. Stunned. “Ominis…you were right. London is terribly loud.”

“And because of that, my rent is practically theft. It should only happen once more today, closer to dinner.”

“That’s going to happen again?”

“Twice a day. Luckily, I’m normally only home for the dinner train. You do get used to it-after a time.”

Chuffed, Eudora glared out the window. “I think they should pay you to take this place. That was horrid.” Her senses were suddenly returned to her hands-to the soreness in her knuckles and the fabric bunched up in her palms…She was still clutching Ominis’ shirt. Worse-she was still tucked tightly into him. Her cheeks flushed an angry red and she immediately let go, taking an appropriate three steps away. “Sorry. I do believe I’ve wrinkled your shirt.” She said with a calmness of voice that she absolutely did not feel. That wouldn’t do! Friends did not cling to each other as a cow frightened by a storm! Not as adults! She mentally chastised herself-how woefully inappropriate!

Ominis’ hand rubbed at the creases on his ribs thoughtfully. “Pay it no mind…I hardly noticed.” He said. Of course he’d be a gentleman about such a breach of personal space. She was very glad for his being blind at that moment, for the red had not left her face yet. “Shall we get you settled in then? I’m sure you’re tired from your journey.”

“Yes, of course.” Eudora smacked at imagined wrinkles in her skirt. “I’d suppose I’m to sleep on the couch over there?” She’d slept in grass and in hay bales. A couch seemed just as well.

“Absolutely not, Eudora. What kind of host would I be if I put you on the couch? You’ll take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” Ominis, to make his point, went over and sat down, resting elbows on knees and leaning over himself.

Eudora stuck her hands on her hips. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed, Ominis. That just feels-”

“I insist.”

She watched him for a moment, sitting there with his own brand of calm cockiness. Stubborn as he ever was. Even when it was her doing the arguing, he was infamously difficult to persuade once he’d made up his mind. Eudora bitterly sighed. “Thank you.” She groused, tossing her reticule onto the mattress. “But if that’s the way it’s going to be, you’re getting your Christmas present early.”

It always felt nice to surprise him-the taken aback look that dropped from his brow and into his shoulders. “A Christmas present?” Ominis echoed back, sitting straighter. He looked a little embarrassed. “That wasn’t necessary, I didn’t get you anything.”

“Nonsense.” Eudora walked to the bed and began to fiddle with her reticule’s strings. “You invited me to a whole new city to visit my dear dear friend. That’s more than a gift. Now- Accio quilt!” There was a rustling from her bag. It warped as a massive blanket stretched and pulled its way out of an impossibly small hole- the fabric of the reticule moving as did the sea water.

She was quite proud of herself, looking with finality at her work-now in its proper home. She’d spent an uneven two months on it, scrounging for and hand sewing each patch into it’s perfect place. Many a night she had gone to bed with tired fingers and exhausted wrists-the impression of a needle stuck on both her pointer finger and thumb. To accomplish this, she’d become quite the pest over at Gladrags- haggling for particularly colored scraps of fabric. Eudora ran her hands along the quilt to flatten it against the mattress and then excitedly grabbed Ominis’ hand and dragged him to the bed. “Happy Christmas, dearest!”

Ominis ran his hand over the length and the breadth of the blanket, his fingers tracing over the fine stitching and occasional points of embroidery. “This feels luxuriant, Eudora!” he breathed. He couldn’t see the design proper and some people would ask why go to the trouble of designing such a thing if that were the case. Eudora had painstakingly sorted through scraps for just the right shapes-creating sunburst patches, though not uniform, of greens, golds, blues, and grays. But, just because he was blind, didn’t mean he had no need of nicely made things. “Thank you.” Ominis turned to her with a smile.

“Think nothing of it. I figured you’d need something to keep you warm at night. Can’t have you getting sick, now.” Eudora sat on the bed, quite pleased with herself. “I figured that all my friends would need gifts that were more…utilitarian this year, seeing as so many of you are only poor trainees. I even made and sent Sebastian a robe-seeing as he’s more than likely falling asleep sitting up at a desk. Not that he’s written a thank you or anything.” It had been amazing that she’d been able to perform her duties to Professor Howin, or sleep at all, with how busy with gifts she’d been. Each friend received something handmade and useful.

For the rest of the day, they settled in and spoke at length about anything and everything, sitting on the floor side by side as if they were still children. As if the two had never been separated. The warm glow of each other’s company wrapped around the room as the hours ticked on passed. Gentle touches to brutal shoving turned to laughter. It was easy and comfortable and, to Eudora, she felt that rare sense of belonging, in every sense of the word. There was the achingly faint memory of her solitary existence on the moorlands, wandering with the cattle as they grazed and never seeing another soul day after day. The little girl looked into her future, to a small room where she sat with another person, close as she ever imagined two spirits could be to each other, and she was comforted. Eudora watched Ominis speak and felt everything right within the world of her own being.

By dinner time, Eudora was prepared for the evening train. As the floor began to rattle, Ominis placed his long hands over her ears-fingers reaching into the edges of her hair- as the train was spotted and passed by the window. It left soot on the glass, and she began to wonder if it was not the December light that left the room feeling bereft of life, but the hindrance itself of light’s efforts. She mentioned this to her friend, but he argued the pointlessness of cleaning the glass. It wasn’t as if he would notice the difference either way. It was too cold to open the shutters and clean the panes if they were only to be dirtied the following day.

Ominis thought to go scrounge something to eat in the ground-floor kitchen, but Eudora would have none of it. Why be crowded by others when the company here was pleasant enough for the evening. Instead-she gave him instructions. “Go to the nearest bakery and get us a loaf of bread. By the time you get back, I’ll have started dinner!” And so he obeyed, much to the chagrin of the bakery staff. When he got back, the hall to his room was filled with a heady aroma, and inside Eudora had set to work. Having brought with her a small cauldron, she’d put it over the fire and begun on making her own chicken and herb soup, something he’d not had in a whole year. Eating it brought back memories of the undercroft for him-Eudora eager to either provide for or show off to her boys, a quiet intimate dinner in place of the loud clattering of the great hall, Sebastian asking her to make the soup again for his sister. Eudora talking about how the kitchen elves had showed her how to make her recipe that much better.

It was nostalgic and safe, and with fresh made bread, utterly delicious.

The two of them said goodnight, come bedtime, and went to sleep separately.

It was in the middle of the night when Eudora blearily woke to a chill creeping up her neck. She half expected to open her eyes and see the foggy outlines of her room at Hogwarts, the roaring fireplace having died passed embers. She was right about the fireplace at least, for she could no longer see even a faint glow coming from the other side of the room. She shimmied down further into the covers, pulling her legs into a tight ball and absently rubbing her toes. Nearly returned to sleep, her eye peeped open and looked toward the shape of Ominis on the couch.

Granted, she couldn’t see him any clearer than she could see the fireplace. But the fuzzy outlines of him looked smaller than usual-more round. Squinting didn’t do a thing to clear the image. Eudora felt around the nearby desk top and caught the rim of her glasses before putting them on her nose. Ominis was clearly in as tight a ball as he could muster, his new quilt wrapped on all sides of him and up his shoulders. His face, even in sleep, scrunched with discomfort. She wasn’t sure if it was just the fogging of cold glass on a warm face, but at points she thought she saw his breath.

With a mournful sigh, Eudora slipped from the covers (closing them behind her to preserve their heat) and padded over to Ominis. The floor sucked any and all heat from her toes. At the foot of the couch, she crouched down and began to poke him in the nose. “Ominis.” She whispered. “Ominis, wake up.”

“Mm? Wh’d?” he batted her hand away from his face. “Wh’d you want?” his voice husky and blurred around its own edges.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s December. Of course it’s cold. Goodnight.”

“No, Ominis!” Eudora shook his shoulder, rousing him again. “It’s cold and you’re freezing over here. Get in the bed.”

He opened his eyes only to glare at her quizzically. “No? You’re in the bed. That would be highly inappropriate.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! I think my womanly reputation is safe from prying eyes, you daffy fool. It’s not as if anyone but the two of us will ever know. You get sick far too easily to suffer this cold. Take this wretched quilt with you and get. In. The. Bed!”

He stared at her. Sniffled. “No.” And turned sharply to his other side. Well, that would just not do. Not at all. Eudora stood over him as an avenging angel, shoulders set back as she pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose. With a strong tug, Eudora whisked the quilt out from under Ominis- something she would consider as one of her more impressive feats- before scurrying back across the room and into the covers. She heard Ominis growl as he shot up and watched him with matched venom as he stalked towards her.

Grabbing two fistfuls of the blanket, Ominis began to yank it back towards him. “It’s improper!”

“I’ll take the hit if it keeps you from the hospital!” She pulled the blanket back towards her.

“We’re not children, anymore, Eudora!” His feet slid across the floor with effort.

“Get in the damn bed, Ominis!”

“It’s too late for these sorts of childish antics!”

“I agree! So stop fighting me!”

“Eudora!”

“Ominis!”

It was when his teeth began to chatter, despite his trying to hide it, that she knew she’d won. The quilt went slack and she smirked. Ominis slithered under the sheets, disgruntled and keeping as far from her as the mattress would allow. “Stop it. I can hear your mirth from here.” He groused.

“I can’t believe you thought such a silly plan would work in December. The quilt is nice, but it’s not magic. What were you going to do if I hadn’t made you a quilt?” Eudora smoothed the massive thing over the rest of the blankets before laying back down.

“I suppose I would have taken some from the bed. We would have both suffered in the name of morality.”

“It’s hilarious to me that you think I’d allow that.”

Ominis grumbled and turned over on his side.

Eudora pulled her glasses from her face and tapped him on the shoulder, still smirking. “Be a dear and put these back on the desktop, won’t you?” Ominis snatched them from her hand, refusing to say another word. In the dim light that crept through the window, she thought she could see red tingeing the tips of his ears. She chuckled, “Good night, Ominis.”

“Shut it.”

The morning found the two differently. The two turned towards each other with hands overlapping and legs intertwined. Ominis woke first, the smell of her long hair all around him, the sound of her soft breathing catching his own. He wanted to shoot out of bed, wanted to quench the burning in his face, because she felt lovely. Instead, he slowly untangled himself from her and got up to reignite the fireplace.

Eudora woke to the sound of wood thudding against a metal grate, Ominis’ strong back to her. The morning sunlight dancing across his pale skin.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt fanfiction #Ominis x OC #eudora ferguson #pining #fanfic #butthound writes #god #this was supposed to be a two parter only #it was supposed to be two parts!#now I'm looking at three or four #just to keep the length reasonable for tumblr #this is misery.#ominis gaunt

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