#THE BOY KING STATUE 😭😭😭😭

[skitskatdacat63]

Why is my brother asking me rn about the Habsburgs I can't do this, i can't escape I'm trapped 😭😭😭😭

#ah he was just asking if i had gone to a specifc place in vienna #but okay heres what i mean by i csnt escape: #the place he was asking about was the Schatzkammer which has all the Habsburgs treasures #and hes asking me if i saw a specific thing #but you know what the only thing i took a picture of in the Schatzkammer? #THE BOY KING STATUE 😭😭😭😭 #LITERALLY CANNOT ESCAPE THIS AU AND HISTORY 😭😭😭 #also abour the Habsburgs #i really need to ask my prof about them. hes pretty obsessed i think and would probably cry if he knew how deep in i was rn #catie.rambling.txt

[pasukiyo]

Hey, ignore if u arent still doing requests but I've had this storyline in my head for ages and I think ur a perfect writer for tom. Basically, the reader is a muggleborn but she attends Hogwarts and it's like half term where they are all home for a break. Shes either avery or lestranges adopted sibling and it's kinda been kept a secret from tom because.. well yknow shes a muggleborn lol(he knows about her now because her adoptive brother had to explain before bringing Tom over) anyways so hes at every or lestranges house for some reason (you make it up) and shes in her room, her adoptive brother needs something so he asks tom to get it from her desk in her room and they preferably have 🌶 time. Sorry if it sounds stupid but I've been thinking about this for ages!!😭

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!reader 8,104 words warnings: smut. sort of angst. also lots of prejudice against muggle-borns. read part two here. notes: reader is hufflepuff and muggle-born in this one. summary: every year, the lestranges will hold a christmas party for only the oldest of pure-blood wizarding families. every year you are locked in your room while the party rages downstairs, but everything will change when tom riddle is invited to this year’s party. everything…

 The Lestrange name definitely held some irony, considering how strange the family truly was. The Mother sent an owl at lunch, the rolled parchment dropping onto the plate in front of Tiernan Lestrange. On either side of him sat Clarence Avery and Liam Mulciber, who gazed down at the rolled parchment sealed with the Lestrange family crest with sparkling irises. 

 “Is it for the party, Lestrange?” Avery asked as Lestrange took another bite of his sandwich, dusting his hands off before finally taking a hold of the parchment, untying the ribbon keeping it closed. “More than likely,” he replied as the parchment unraveled, his mother’s handwriting gazing back up at him in inky black cursive letters. 

 ‘To my dearest son,

 Tell your friends they’re more than welcome to join us on Christmas Eve for the party. Invite that Head Boy you were writing to me about too. I am most interested to meet him, since you speak so highly of him. Remind the Girl that she is to not speak of the party, I simply cannot have any more of her kind in the house. I will see you at King’s Cross Station, my darling. 

 With all my love, your mother.’

 Of course, the Girl referred to the Hufflepuff sitting all the way across the Great Hall at her own House’s table, her head down as she ate, so as to not catch the attention of her brother or any of his friends. She didn’t choose this family— and if it were her choice, she’d be far away from them— and neither did they. 

 It was the fault of whomever it was who dropped her onto the Lestranges’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning when she was only an infant. The Mother had given birth to her son only a few months before, and found the crying baby on her doorstep to be quite a burden. 

 She asked herself why the Mother and the Father even bothered keeping her, for even before they learned of her blood status, they hated her. Perhaps it was to uphold their reputation— taking in a child who wasn’t theirs? It was the perfect foundation for the story of a kind-hearted pure-blood family— how could the Lestranges let that opportunity go?

 Of course, behind closed doors, she was treated less than a family member, some would argue far less than a house elf. She may as well have been a house elf if you ask her. She was treated like how they believed anyone of her kind should be treated— a mudblood deserved to be treated like the rubbish they are, they’d say. 

 Up until she got her Hogwarts letter, she believed them. She believed she deserved to be treated this way, that she deserved to be put through the torture that came with living with the Lestranges. She believed she had filthy blood, demon blood. 

 But all of that changed the second she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Of course, the Lestranges were at first very against letting her attend Hogwarts— mudbloods shouldn’t be taught magic, they’d say— but even they could only take so many letters flying through the fireplace or popping up in the stew before they gave in. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone of her blood status— “you are not to tell anyone of your filthy blood status,” the Father had told her with an accusatory finger in her face. “As far as anyone is concerned, you are pure-blood. So I expect you to act like it.” 

 Her school robes and supplies were not as grand as Tiernan’s, and she wasn’t allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. But she told herself that she would make do with what she had, and she felt at least a little bit grateful that the Lestranges didn’t give her tattered secondhand, even third-hand clothes, even if she knew it was all for the act. 

 When the Lestranges found out she had been sorted into Hufflepuff however, oh, it gave them all the more reason to ridicule and torture her back at home. “Of course the mudblood is in the weakest House,” the Mother would mutter beneath her breath as she and her husband read the letter their son had written. “We were fools to think that old ratty hat would sort her into Slytherin.”

 Tiernan and his friends— they made certain that her life at Hogwarts was just as bad as her life at home. Of course, Tiernan was the only one who knew the truth about her blood, Avery, Mulciber, and the others just tagged along because they found it funny. They loved calling her names, making her trip in the hallways, pulling pranks such as jinxing her school books so that they may not open no matter how hard she tried. 

 And still, she didn’t dare stand her ground, for she knew all too well that the Mother and the Father would catch wind of it, and make certain that she’d be on the first train back to King’s Cross Station. So instead, she dealt with Tiernan and his friends, just like she learned to deal with everything else. 

 But Tom… Tom Riddle was different. 

 Tiernan Lestrange and his friends worshiped the ground Tom Riddle walked on, and it was no secret. She remembered when she first saw Tom, all the way back in the Sorting Ceremony in her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered hearing his name ‘Riddle, Tom’ being called and she remembered watching as he approached the platform, settling himself down onto the stool. 

 She remembered the way their eyes met and she swore her knees turned into jelly when she gazed into those dark ravines he had for irises. And she remembered when the Sorting Hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” hardly before it had even touched a hair on his head. 

 And she remembered how disappointed she felt when she was called up to be sorted, the Sorting Hat put her into Hufflepuff. She wanted to be a Slytherin— she wanted to be wherever Tom Riddle was. 

 In all her time at Hogwarts, she’d never even spoken a word to Tom Riddle. They’d pass each other in the halls, but thanks to her brother, she’d never been given the chance to even tell him hello. And Tiernan made it clear that she never would. 

 So life went on, and she got older. She hoped that over time, she’d forget about Tom. But it was hard when he was made prefect, and when he was given the Special Award for Services to the School, and when he was made Head Boy at the beginning of their seventh and final year. 

 She remembered her fifth year during all the attacks on muggle-borns vividly as if it were only yesterday. She remembered how frightened she was when she realized it was muggle-borns whatever it was was attacking. She remembered the panic she felt when Hogwarts was on the brink of being closed— she couldn’t have that! She belonged at Hogwarts, not out there with the Lestranges where she was treated like vermin. 

 At least here, she could pretend to be someone she was not. 

 Of course Tiernan was no help, always taunting her and teasing her that she’d be next. She remembered when she heard that it was Rubeus Hagrid who had freed the muggle-born killing beast, how although she felt that it could not be Hagrid, she felt a sense of relief when he was expelled, when all the attacks had stopped. 

 And of course it was Tom Riddle who caught him. And of course it just made her admire him more and more. 

 But she would keep her distance. She’d admire him from afar. She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment Tiernan would put her through if he found out she liked Tom Riddle. 

 “Yes! Looks like we’re invited, Mulciber,” Avery exclaimed, pumping his fist. Tiernan rolled his eyes at his friends, “you’re invited every year,” he replied, just as Tom entered the Great Hall, and they fell into silence as he approached. 

 She could see Tom over the tops of the heads of the Hufflepuffs in front of her, and she slowly sat up to get a better look. That was when Tom blinked up and she swore their eyes met, just for a moment, before he settled down into his seat, disappearing behind the heads of the other Hogwarts students. She felt herself flush as she hunched over her plate again, a small smile creeping onto her face. 

 “My Lord,” Tiernan Lestrange nodded as Tom settled himself between him and Liam Mulciber. Tom nodded in acknowledgement as he placed a few pieces of chicken onto his plate, and Tiernan’s gaze flickered from him to the rolled parchment in his lap. “My mother sent an owl,” he said, and Tom hummed in reply, nodding. Still, he said nothing. 

 Tiernan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, and Tom, with his eyes slightly narrower than before, peered up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Tiernan turned pink beneath Tom’s stare, and he presented the letter to him, Tom’s dark eyes flicking down to the inky black words on the scroll. 

 “My family, we… we hold a Christmas party every year,” he said, and when Tom glanced back up at him, he flushed again. “And you would’ve been invited! But it’s only for the oldest pure-blood families, and, well…” Tiernan trailed off when he saw the shadow looming over Tom’s already dark gaze, and Mulciber and Avery shifted in their seats uncomfortably. 

 Tiernan cleared his throat again, “but I’ve been speaking very highly of you to my mother. She wants you to come,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. Tom pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he stared back up at Lestrange, handing back the parchment. “Yes, I know. I can read, Tiernan,” Tom said sternly, and Tiernan clawed at his knees to prevent himself from trembling. 

 “Yes… well…” Lestrange said shakily as he rolled back up the parchment, slipping it inside one of his pockets. “…I’d really love it if you come. We’ll all be there— me, Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Nott— and our families too, so you can meet them all!”

 Tom took a bite out of one of the chicken wings on his plate, placing it back down before wringing a napkin between his hands, gesturing towards Lestrange’s robes with his head. “Who is your mother referring to when she speaks of ‘the Girl?’” He asked, and heat crept back into Tiernan’s cheeks until they glowed scarlet. “Oh, you know… my sister…” he muttered, and Tom’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t she refer to her daughter by name?” Tom questioned, turning his body to fully face Tiernan, his interest piqued. “What does she mean by she ‘cannot have any more of her kind in the house?’”

 The other boys leaned in to hear what Tiernan would say next, and he knew now that there was no way to get out of this. He’d have to tell the truth not only to his friends, but to his Lord. 

 “Forgive me, my Lord, for asking this of you,” Tiernan hung his head and muttered lowly towards Tom. “But I must ask that you promise you won’t tell another soul about this. This goes for all of you, too,” he said towards Tom and the rest of their group. Lestrange gazed into each of their eyes and held contact for a moment with each, to make it known that he was serious. 

 Tom shrugged, “I promise.”

 Tiernan inhaled a shaky breath, before finally saying, “she… as you know, is not my sister,” he began. “And she’s not pure-blood, either. She’s a mudblood.”

 Mulciber, Avery, and the others all leaned closer and broke into a sea of murmurs, “that sure explains a lot. But a mudblood? In the Lestrange family?” Tom remained silent as he stared at Lestrange, beckoning for him to continue. “Her filthy muggle parents left her on our doorstep after she was born. My mother and father took her in purely out of the goodness of their hearts,” Tiernan sat up and stuck out his chest proudly. “And they kept her, even when they learned where she came from. So you see now why she never comes to the party. Mother always tells guests she’s never home for the party anyways.”

 The boys all laughed and ridiculed her while Tom, again, remained silent, staring absentmindedly down at his plate. He wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel. All this time he’d spent watching her, only catching glimpses of her from afar when he felt a gaze on him, watching as she turned away whenever she saw him with Tiernan and the others. 

 All this time he secretly lusted after her, the outcast of her family, the black sheep of the family. All this time he felt some sort of connection to her, all this time he felt he could relate to her because he, too, felt like an outcast. The outcast of the orphanage he grew up in, the outcast of the Gaunt family, the outcast of his muggle father’s family. 

 Tom Riddle never belonged anywhere, but he belonged here, at Hogwarts. And he knew she felt the same. 

 But would things change now that he knew she was muggle-born? Should he feel disgusted with himself now for ever thinking of pursuing her, for ever thinking of taking her in whichever way he pleased? Was it wrong of him to still lust for her, to still think of having his way with her? 

 Tom was clever but this, this he wasn’t sure of. 

 “So where has she been hiding during the parties?” Liam Mulciber asked, and Tiernan Lestrange snickered. “Mother and father force her up into her room. Says they’ll punish her accordingly if they hear even the smallest of noises coming from her room,” he replied, the boys erupting into another fit of snickers. Tom was still silent as he stared at his plate— he suddenly didn’t feel like eating. 

 The next day, she and a group of other Hogwarts students waiting to go home for the holidays gathered at Hogsmeade station, waiting for the arrival of the train. She snuck glances over to where Tiernan and his friends stood together, Tom in the middle of them all. She flushed and turned away when his head began to turn, and she moved to hide herself behind a few of her fellow Hufflepuffs, safe away from Tom Riddle’s view. 

 The train’s whistle echoed as the train emerged, slowing down to a stop before them. She dared gaze back over to where Tiernan stood with his friends as she waited for the doors to open, and when she did, Tom was no longer looking her way. She let herself stare for a little moment longer before she felt someone tap her shoulder, and blinked at the Hufflepuff girl in front of her with brown skin and shoulder length black hair she recognized as Clara Wingrave. 

 “Are you coming?” Clara asked, a furrow in her brow. She blinked and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat back down. “Yes, sorry Clara,” she mumbled as she followed the Hufflepuff girl onto the train, sliding into the seat opposite the one Clara chose. She sighed as she settled herself into the seat just as footsteps thundered through the train, and she hardly had any time to register what was happening before their compartment door slid open, revealing none other than Tiernan Lestrange, Clarence Avery, and Liam Mulciber, Tom and the other three boys nowhere in sight. 

 Clara narrowed her eyes at their intruders, “hey, go find your own—“

 “Shut it,” Mulciber hissed towards her. “No one allowed you to speak.”

 Clara’s glare hardened as Tiernan leaned down to block his adopted sister’s view, his lips curving into a cheshire grin. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt the strongest urge to slam them right into that crooked smile of his. 

 “Mother sent the owl this afternoon,” Tiernan muttered, and he needn’t elaborate, for she was already used to the rules she was forced to follow every year during the annual Lestrange Christmas party. “Oh yeah? And let me guess…  I’m not to speak of the party, I’m not to attend the party, I’m to stay up in my room and if I make even the smallest of noises, I’ll be punished accordingly? Is that all?” She asked quietly, so that the girl across from her could not hear. 

 Tiernan scowled and grabbed for her throat, much to Clara’s shock as she shrieked, giving her a firm shake. She pressed her lips closed and gazed into Tiernan’s dark umber eyes as they gleamed with mischief. “You dare give me attitude?” He tsked. “You just wait. I’ll tell mother and father about this and—“

 “—Tiernan? Won’t you leave her alone for Merlin’s sake, the train is about to leave.”

 She along with Clara, Tiernan, and his friends snapped their heads to the open compartment door where the Head Boy now stood, a furrow in his brow. He narrowed his eyes every so slightly, and he looked irritated. She flushed when she saw him and turned away as Tiernan released her, dusting off his clothes. She glimpsed up at him as he turned to leave, not without making sure to flash a dirty look her way over his shoulder before he slid the compartment door closed behind him. 

 “What the hell was that about?” Clara gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “I know it is common for siblings to fight, but that was just absurd.”

 She shook her head as she shifted in her seat, gazing out the window as the train began to move, and Hogsmeade station grew further and further away until it disappeared altogether. 

 “He’s not my brother.”

 The train ride back to King’s Cross Station seemed to go by quicker than usual, much to her dismay. She wished she could stay on the train forever rather than have to go back to living with the Lestranges, and wished that she had an invisibility cloak so that she could hide and be on her way back to Hogwarts within the hour. 

 But, since she didn’t, she sighed as she collected her bag with her few belongings and exited her compartment, stepping out of the train and onto Platform 9¾, where her eyes immediately fell upon the Mother and the Father where they stood, eyes narrowed when they fell upon their muggle-born adopted daughter. She huffed as she made her way over to them, standing beside the Mother with a considerable amount of distance between them. 

 “Where is my son?” The Mother asked through gritted teeth, and she shrugged her shoulders. “He and his friends should be getting off soon,” she replied, not daring to turn to look at the Mother. Sure enough, almost as soon as she finished saying it, there stepped out Tiernan and his friends, Tom Riddle close behind. The other boys left to greet their own parents, but Tiernan and Tom made their way over to where she stood beside the Lestranges, and she flushed. 

 Why was Tom coming over here?

 “Tiernan,” the Mother smiled, drawing her son into her chest for a hug. “And you must be… Tom, is that right? Hogwarts’ Head Boy?”

 She glanced over to where Tom stood, a charming smile plastered his face and she could feel heat creep back up her neck. She turned away from him before he could catch her staring.

 “It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lestrange,” Tom greeted them, shaking Mr Lestrange’s hand and giving the top of Mrs Lestrange’s a polite kiss. “Oh!” Mrs Lestrange giggled. “I like this one. The manners!”

 Tom flashed his best smile but snuck a glimpse over to where the Lestranges adopted daughter stood, her arms crossed over herself as she looked anywhere but at him. He eyed her up and down just as Mrs Lestrange clutched either of his forearms, and he was forced to tear his attention away from the girl behind her.

 “Tiernan here tells me you’re from the orphanage?” Mrs Lestrange asked and Tiernan felt like shriveling away beside Tom. Tom only nodded in reply to which Mrs Lestrange tutted, “how about this? You’re welcome to come and stay with us for the holidays. We’d be delighted to have you.”

 She froze at this and her lips fell agape with the intent to protest, but nothing came out. She knew nothing she said would matter anyways, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being around Tom for the entirety of the holidays. She’d been comfortable leaving him at a safe distance away from her at school, but now she’d have to deal with seeing him at the Lestranges? She simply wouldn’t be able to trust herself being around him for so long. 

 “Thank you for your hospitality,” Tom beamed as Mrs Lestrange fussed over him, leading him away from the platform, and she, the Father, and Tiernan followed close behind. Tiernan made a point of ramming his shoulder into her every once in a while, and it took everything within her to control herself, to not shout or push him away. The Father saw this was happening but did nothing to stop it. 

 It wasn’t longer before they finally entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to the fireplace, and they each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. The Father went first, then Mrs Lestrange, and Tiernan before it was down to her and Tom. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and she forced herself to look away as he stepped into the fireplace. 

 Tom was no stranger to her shy nature. He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, watching as she peeked over at him only to find he was staring, and looked away again. He smiled, exclaimed “Lestrange Manor!” and he was gone, leaving her alone. 

 Soon, she too was back in the Lestrange Manor, and she nearly ran into Tom where he stood just before the fireplace. Her palms instinctively fell onto his back to find her balance, and oh, how she felt she’d explode where she stood. 

 It was the first time she had ever touched Tom, and she truly did not expect him to be so warm. Tom glanced back over his shoulder when he felt her hands on him and swiftly stepped out of her way, feeling her touch lingering on his back where she had touched him. Something ignited within him at that touch, and every doubt he had about still wanting to pursue her seemed to fray away. 

 He wanted her. 

 “Welcome to our home!” The Mother exclaimed with a smile as she dusted off the shoulder of Tom’s coat where some ash had fallen, letting her palms soothe back down all the way to his elbows. “Tiernan will show you where you will be staying. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

 She began to follow Tiernan and Tom as they headed for the staircase leading to the next level, but just before she could, the Mother grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her backwards to face her and the Father. She scowled down at her adopted daughter as soon as she made certain Tom was out of sight and leaned down until they were eye level. 

 “Listen to me, girl, and listen to me good,” the Mother said lowly. “You are to be on your best behavior while we have a guest in the home. You are to stay up in your room for the holidays except for meals, do you understand me, girl?”

 She blinked— normally, she’d hate the fact that she had to stay up in her room all hours of the day, but instead, she felt relief surge through her. At least she wouldn’t have to see Tom, at least she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in front of him. 

 “Yes, Madam Lestrange,” she said as the Mother released her elbow, and the Father stepped forward, leaning down to eye level.

 “And you mustn’t leave your room under any circumstances during the party tomorrow evening,” he muttered. “If I hear even the smallest of sounds coming from your bedroom, I will punish accordingly and do understand, I will not show mercy.”

 She heard this rule every year, but still to this day, the way the Father threatened her sent chills down her spine. “Yes, Mr Lestrange,” she nodded and when the Father waved her off, she walked as fast as she could towards the stairs, practically sprinting up the steps and down the hallway until she finally reached her bedroom. 

 Tom and the rest of the Lestranges were already in the dining room when she finally bounded down the steps, and he could tell Mr and Mrs Lestrange were using all the self restraint they had within them to not blow up at her, most likely for his sake. He watched as she sat down across the table from where he and Tiernan sat, carefully only placing a small selection of food onto her plate. 

 He glanced back over to where Mr Lestrange sat on one end of the long dining table before looking over at Mrs Lestrange on the other end. Neither paid her any attention, or showed any intention of speaking to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either. 

 “So, Tom, Tiernan tells me you’re exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Mr Lestrange said, shaking Tom from his thoughts. He forced a small smile as he nodded, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Yes, actually, I wish to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher one day.”

 She listened as she finished her dinner as quickly as she could, but she didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Tom’s story. She gazed over at the Mother who only nodded that she may be excused before she gathered her plate and hurried off to the kitchen where the Lestranges house elf cleaned. 

 “Thank you for the food, Gimbel,” she nodded at the house elf who only nodded back as she set her dirty plate on the pile of unclean dishes the house elf had stacked on the countertop. She hurried back upstairs where she shut herself in her room, sighing as she fell onto her mattress. 

 All she had left to endure was breakfast tomorrow morning, and she’d be free of seeing Tom for the rest of the day. She rested her arm over her eyes, her heart beating against her chest. She couldn’t believe the boy she’s been pining after since her first year is in her house, staying in only a few rooms down from hers. How she wished she could talk to him, to treat him like a guest rather than act like he wasn’t even there at all. 

 She even, for a moment, wished she was a true member of the Lestrange family, so that she could be treated as an equal. 

 Tom hardly saw her for breakfast the next morning, for as soon as he and Tiernan had entered the dining room, she was seemingly finished with her food, and once again scurried off towards the kitchen as she did the night before. Tiernan scoffed when he saw this as they took their seats on one side of the long dining table, loading their plates with biscuits and bacon and eggs. 

 “I apologize for her… strange behavior, my Lord,” Tiernan muttered to home as Tom took a sip of milk. “She’s always like this, you see.” Tom didn’t care to listen to whatever else Tiernan had to say about his adopted sister. Tom had already made up his mind about her, it was how he’d find the chance to talk to her that was the problem. 

 She seemed to avoid him like the plague, and he knew he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing her at all the rest of the day, since the Lestranges locked her in her room while they hosted their party. Tom was clever, so surely he’d be able to find a way around it?

 But as the time for the party to begin approached, he still came up with nothing. He had no excuse for wanting to see her, and with Tiernan practically breathing down his neck, he hadn’t any chance of sneaking away any time soon. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to see her at all when the party began and Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, and Nott all came rushing towards him and Lestrange. He had no space absolutely no space and no time to sneak away. 

 “Don’t worry,” Lestrange was saying to his friends. “The mudblood is upstairs in her bedroom. Won’t be coming out at all tonight, that one.” The boys snickered as they called her names and made jokes about her, but Tom wasn’t listening. Even though it seemed as if all hope of seeing her tonight was lost, he was still thinking of every possible excuse he could come up with to sneak away. 

 But fortunately, he wouldn’t have to contemplate for much longer. 

 “Blast,” Lestrange cursed, feeling around his pockets. Clarence Avery furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his friend, the others soon joining in. “What is it?” Liam Mulciber asked as Lestrange emptied each of his pockets, coming up with nothing. “Left my damn wand in my room,” Lestrange muttered, and Tom perked at this. Lestrange turned to Tom and stepped closer to murmur close to his ear, “forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord, but I simply do not trust the others. Will you go upstairs and retrieve my wand for me? I can’t go upstairs, mother and father said I need to stay down here.”

 If Tom was the type, he’d laugh and jump up and down at the request. All day he had been trying to come up with some sort of excuse to slip away from the party, and now he finally had one. He cleared his throat and nodded, “of course,” he said to Lestrange before making his way over towards the staircase, but he did not stop at Tiernan’s bedroom door as he passed. 

 Instead, he walked a little further down the Lestranges upstairs hallway, stopping at the last door on the left where she was, the black wooden door the only thing separating him from her now. Tom raised a fist to the door and knocked, and for a moment, it was silent on the other side. 

 Who could possibly be knocking at her door?

 She knew it could not be any of the Lestranges, for they would’ve just burst through the door without any respect for her privacy anyways. It couldn’t be Gimbel either, the house elf never came to her room. She grew weary as she closed her book and set it down on the mattress beside her, clearing her throat before murmuring a low, “come in.”

 She watched as the handle to her door twisted and it swung open, and when she saw who was standing there in her doorway, she felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She’d only ever dreamed of Tom Riddle being in her bedroom, but never before did she actually think he’d really come in here. 

 But there he was. There Tom Riddle stood, closing the door behind him and turning to gaze at her where she sat on her bed, his eyes entrancing as they were dark. Even from across the room, his irises seemed to pull her in like they were magnets and she was metal, and she lost herself further and further into his soul…

 “Forgive me,” Tom said, and she blinked. Those were the first words she had ever heard him direct towards her. “I would not usually barge into a lady’s room like this.”

 Fire raged across her skin, up her neck, and to her cheeks until they were seared with flame. She suddenly had the strongest urge to open the window, wondering if she had broken into a sweat yet or not. 

 She blinked again, and the corner of Tom’s lips curved into a soft smile. He knew he already had her wrapped around his finger. 

 “Your brother thought he left something in here,” he said, gesturing towards her desk against the far wall of the room. “May I?” 

 She could not think of anything Tiernan could have possibly left in her room, but she wouldn’t dare question Tom, so instead she nodded, and she watched as he strode across the room, opening her desk drawers and sifting through its contents. 

 Of course, Tom wasn’t searching for anything. But she needn’t know that yet. 

 “Hm,” Tom hummed, closing the drawers he had opened and turning to face her again, leaning back against the wooden desk. “Perhaps, your brother was mistaken.”

 She felt small underneath Tom’s gaze, and she felt as though she could curl herself into a ball right now and shrivel away. But instead she sat still on her bed, unable to speak, unable to move. Tom chuckled and she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally cursing herself for being so shy. Typical Hufflepuff, she could imagine her adopted brother sneering. 

 “You know, you should really join the party,” Tom said, hoping to break the ice between them. She soothed the skin of her arms with her palms and rubbed at her elbows, shaking her head. “The Mother and the Father won’t let me attend,” she managed to speak at last, and she gulped down the lump in her throat. 

 Although Tom already knew the answer, he still tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Why is that?” He asked, and she swallowed again, forcing back down the truth. She dropped her head and shrugged, “because I’m different.”

 Tom blinked, and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, still living at the orphanage he grew up in. For over ten years, he grew up unlike all the other children, and even at an early and young age, he knew that he was different. It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore came to visit him that he finally understood why he felt this way. 

 It was different in her case, because at least she knew why she was different. But they were still treated the same, like they were misfits, rejects, outcasts. It was then that he understood the connection he felt towards her with a different meaning, that he first noticed this string tethering them together. 

 They had both been lost before, but just like he had found himself, she could be found too. Tom could be the one to find her, for he seemed to be the only one who understood her. 

 Tom’s footsteps permeated her bedroom as he made his way over towards her bed, setting himself down on the mattress beside her. She flinched when she felt the bed dip beneath his weight, and it was then that it occurred to her just how close he was. 

 They had never ever been this close before. 

 “Why are you different?” He asked, gazing down at her as she peered up, their eyes meeting closer than they ever have before. For a moment she said nothing, only continued to lose herself further in the dark depths of the treacherous caverns that were his eyes. He studied her— her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips. 

 It was no secret that she was beautiful, even Tom could admit that. But she was vulnerable, it was clear the moment Tom met her eyes again. And Tom could work with vulnerability. 

 “Well…” she trailed off, contemplating how much she should tell him. Tom’s fingers grazed against her knee and she trembled, her eyes flicking down to his hand and back up to his face. “You can tell me,” Tom said warmly. “You can tell me anything.”

 She blinked. Never before had she heard those words. Nobody has ever wanted to hear her story before, for they all thought they already knew it all by now. She was the child who was left on the Lestranges doorstep as a baby, the child the Lestranges took in to ‘raise as their own’ because they just couldn’t bear giving such a young girl away since they were so kindhearted. 

 So never had she ever thought she’d be given the chance to tell someone about herself, to let someone read her story. But there was something about Tom, and she felt like she could trust him. 

 “I’m… I was left on their doorstep as a baby,” she began, and Tom nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I was… I am muggle-born…” she trailed off, wincing as she searched Tom’s face for disgust, but he didn’t even recoil. He only gazed at her with that same patient stare, waiting for her to keep going. 

 So she did. 

 “They hate me for it,” she added. “For having dirty blood. I’m not sure why they kept me, I could’ve been a Squib or not even a witch at all for that matter. Thankfully, I got my Hogwarts letter when Tiernan did.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, Tom’s warmth drawing her even closer to him. “It certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”

 She swallowed the lump in her throat back down again, and Tom let his palm rest on her knee again, his touch warm, like a kiss from the sun itself. She felt relaxed when he touched her, despite how nervous she actually was inside. 

 “They treat me… so bad,” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”

 Her voice wavered before it broke, and when it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to continue, the hand that had previously been resting on her knee retreated so that it may instead reach her face. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to his, her teary eyes searching his for something, anything she could hold onto. Warmth, comfort, reassurance, hope, anything. 

 So Tom would tell her what she wanted to hear. 

 “You are not nothing,”  Tom murmured, and her lip quivered the longer she stared at him. “You are somebody. Don’t let them take that feeling away from you.”

 She blinked and her brow softened, her vision blurring with tears. She was somebody. Tom Riddle thought she was somebody. 

 And somehow, that seemed to be all she needed to hear. 

 A silence ensued and they only gazed deeper into one another’s eyes. With the grip still on her chin, he drew her near and he leaned down to meet her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly, as tenderly as he could. He felt the way she shuddered under his touch, as if his kiss was a tranquilizer, and she was becoming limp and pliant, all for him. 

 So he kissed her deeper, he kissed her harder. His tongue was warm in her mouth as she let him reign dominance over her own, her hands shaking as one cupped the side of his face and the other grabbed his bicep. 

 This was what Tom Riddle had been fantasizing about for years. To have her compliant beneath him, to have her completely under his control. He loved how easy it was, how easy it was to have her. Although he’d admit, this connection he felt towards her was growing, and it was growing at an alarming rate. As he pushed her down onto the mattress and trailed his kisses down from her lips to her jaw, he found that his heart burned, as if she had set it aflame, and this feeling was foreign to him. 

 He had no idea what this tenderness he felt was, whether he dared call it love or not. For eighteen years, he was under the impression that he couldn’t love, that love simply just wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was completely okay with that. 

 But this feeling, whatever it was he felt for her, came unexpectedly, and he was unsure whether or not he should embrace it or push it away. 

 For now, he worked at unbuttoning her blouse as he sucked marks into her neck, his tongue swirling around her collarbone. 

 She pressed her lips together to contain her noises as Tom slipped her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms, discarding it down onto the floor altogether. He made quick work of her brassiere, his lips previously kissing her collarbone venturing down between the valley of her breasts, sucking marks onto either mounds of flesh. 

 “T… Tom,” she mewled as he pressed a kiss to one of her nipples, kneading her opposite breast with his palm. He hummed in reply, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked the erect bud, releasing it with a wet pop before doing the same to the other. She squirmed beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut, arching her back up off of the mattress. “T… Tom, I… they will punish me if they hear me.”

 Tom smirked against her skin as he released her nipple from his mouth and kissed down her stomach, past her belly button, all the way to the hem of her skirt. He pushed himself up by the elbows as he hooked his fingers over the hem, beginning to tug them down her thighs. 

 “Then I suggest you stay quiet,” he said simply as he removed her skirt from her ankles, her panties soon joining the sea of clothes on the floor as well. 

 She sank her teeth down into her bottom lip so hard when he placed a kiss just above her aching clit, she feared she’d draw blood. Tom eyed her through his hooded stare as he teasingly dipped his tongue past her folds, testing the waters. He watched as her face scrunched and she kicked her legs, arching her back at just the simplest of touches. 

 So eager, he thought. 

 He soothed her stomach with one of his palms as he pecked her clit, watching the way she trembled and writhed, whining behind closed lips, silent pleading for more. Tears broke past the glossy barrier of her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks like crystals, and he smirked as he pressed his lips down against her heat, sucking her clit as it throbbed and ached to be touched. 

 She threw her hands down on the mattress on either side of her, her fingernails clawing at the sheets as he flicked his tongue up and down her slit, humming at the taste of her nectar on his tongue. She tried to watch as he lapped up the juices spilling down her folds before flicking his tongue against her bud again, but she couldn’t even hold herself up, much less keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. 

 “P… please,” she mewled quietly as one of her hands ventured down between her legs to grip at his hair, and she ground her hips against his face, eager for more. That was when Tom stopped and pried her hand away from his head, and she blinked up at him through her bleary eyes. 

 “Do you want to come?” He asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, shouldering it off of him and tossing it to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. She gaped at the sight of his chest, but he grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him, squishing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”

 She trembled and felt her walls clench at his words, nodding up and down. “Yes. Yes please,” she whimpered as he tore his hand away from her face to work on his belt, tossing it and his trousers away until he stood before her completely in the nude, in all of his glory. 

 He was beautiful. And he was already beautiful to begin with but this, she never could have even imagined how he looked underneath the clothes. He wasn’t muscular or built like a statue or even a Quidditch player, but still, his arms and torso were toned, and his cock…

 She could feel her patience slipping away the longer he kept her waiting. She watched as he took a hold of his cock and stared down at her, maintaining eye contact as he gave himself a few pumps, his other hand absentmindedly stroking up and down her slick. She bit down onto her lip as she gazed up at him, watching him in anticipation for what was to come next. 

 Tom leaned back down to her face and captured her lips with his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He kissed her again and again and again as he slipped inside of her, her moans muffled by his mouth on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, etching crescent moons into his flesh. Tom broke their kiss and let his forehead drop onto hers as he rocked his hips into her, slowly at first. One of her hands slithered to cup the back of his neck as tears streamed down the sides of her face, never feeling this good in all her years. 

 Tom let his gaze fall upon her face again, her eyelids squeezed shut but her face scrunched in pleasure, every once in a while muffling her sounds by pressing her face into his shoulder. He began to thrust harder than before, her legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing, beckoning him further inside of her. So he fucked her harder, and harder and harder and harder as if he intended to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces. 

 And maybe that was the goal all along. 

 Never has Tom felt this good, never had he felt so intoxicated by another person, and never did he believe he could be so attached to someone else before. Part of him hated it, part of him wanted to throw it away and stomp on it and set it on fire. 

 But the other part of him embraced it, another part of him felt powerful as he fucked into her with reckless abandon, powerful having someone underneath his control. He never imagined another person could feel so good, he never imagined someone else could make him feel so infinite. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine on his own. 

 But this was different. This was on a whole other level of power. He felt strong, even when she clenched around him and gushed around his cock, even when he felt himself so close to the edge, so close to releasing himself for another person. 

 He pushed away from from her and groped her chest with one hand, holding onto her shoulder with the other as he fucked her harder than before, without a care for how much noise they were making. He’d make it up to the Lestranges, he’d go down and tell them it was him making all the noise, it wasn’t like they’d punish him. 

 For now, he focused on chasing his release, on the way she felt around him, on the way he was so close to climax he could practically taste it. She sobbed beneath him and her lips fell agape with the intent of screaming his name but he clapped his hand around her mouth before she could as he thrusted again and again and again until finally he released, and warmth surged through her. 

 Tom’s chest heaved and he fell on top of her as she cried, motionless beneath him. Sweat made her skin glisten and tears made her cheeks swollen and sticky, but he found that he admired her all the same. 

 This warmth in his chest was new, and it was a feeling he couldn’t quite place or put a finger on. But if whatever it was could make him feel like he was on top of the world, like he was the most powerful being on this Earth, like he was infinite…

 …then surely he could learn to embrace it. 

a/n; oop this is the longest imagine i’ve ever written 🙈 thank you so much for the request anon! i wrote this one up pretty fast because i really liked the idea, it definitely wasn’t stupid! so i hope this is close to what you’ve been imagining!! and feel free to send in more requests if you’d like! i love writing requests!

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #wizarding world #harry potter fic #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #harry potter #tom marvolo riddle

[aimbutmiss]

I feel like Roger loved both Buggy and Shanks equally, it’s just that he REALLY saw himself in Shanks and less so in Buggy, which made Buggy feel like the less loved child, just because he didn’t quite have the same “Oh wow we are just immediately on the same wavelength” like these two

If you asked Roger though he would have spoken about both of them with equal pride. He may see himself in Shanks but Buggy is … Buggy is just his own entire thing and sometimes Roger is kind of stupefied at this young pirate just putting so much into showmanship and being FLASHY and by god this is a greedy little shit but that just means he is just always going after something.And once he gets it he’s gonna show it off in the flashiest way possible that’s just so infectiously joyful to witness. Also- bombs?! Who taught him that?! Rayleigh did you teach him that? He didn’t teach him that! How’d that boy get so crafty! Hey guys check it out Buggy made a BOMB! Haha, hey may never know quite what’s going on with this brat but what a lad! His little firecracker…

Buggy wasn’t unloved but he was a massive causality of Shanks “chosen one” status (another one of these is Shanks himself imo but that’s getting into theory corner), because in his eyes that didn’t leave him to be anything else.

Yessss I do agree that Roger didn't really have a favourite, just different approaches to the kids. If there was any favouritism it would be unintentional, like I've said before. Because I really don't think Roger was that type of man. He loved those kids, they were basically like his sons.

I also agree that he saw himself in Shanks. And he saw something completely different in Buggy. Not just in the way that he was different from himself and Shanks, but he was different from everyone. Roger has never met someone like Buggy before and that fascinated him. This little kid was so... flashy, as he put in his own terms. And he was a go-getter. Roger was convinced that kid had the potential to flip the world upside down if it would get him what he wanted. And there's something so refreshing about that kind of unending determination. The only thing that stood in the way of that was his inferiority complex. And oh did Roger try to make it better. He tried his best to treat him and Shanks equally. Always told them both they could do anything they put their mind to, and that he loved and cared for them deeply. But it just didn't seem to penetrate through Buggy's thick skull. Him giving his hat to Shanks did NOT help. I think that small action was truly the catalyst for the "chosen one" complex you talked about. I mean the effects of it are still very much present, with Luffy and all...

I don't think Buggy was really a casualty in Shanks and his "chosen one" status (at least not as big of a casualty as Shanks himself) because he didn't let himself get stuck because of it, like Shanks did. He knew he couldn't reach his full potential in his friend's shadow, so he left. He started a new life because he refused to be stagnant. And he had a goal, a dream, that did not match what Shanks wanted. So of course he left, because Buggy always goes after what he wants. He chose to go forward, but Shanks stayed there. He could not move forward. He was destined to be forever that little boy on Oro Jackson, the pirate king's chosen one, and that teen Buggy left in Loguetown. (Taylor Swift - Right where you left me, literally)

On a lighter note... those damn bombs!!! Who taught him???? Literally no one. I'm convinced he just threw shit together. And honestly, Buggy is very smart. He figured how things work very quickly at a young age, and he was always good with his hands. It's another thing Roger always felt proud about him. "His little firecracker..." Anon shut up right now I will cry 😭😭 that's so cute

Thank you for this!! Sorry for replying late, I knew I was gonna write something long so I wanted to do it when I had the time

#one piece #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #gol d. roger #shuggy #character analysis

[siphoklansan]

Introducing…. 𓆝 ⋆.𖦹°‧

꧁𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡𝗼𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐢꧂

สุชลที ทิพย์ชลาลัย

“He claims that his father is a king.”

Height : 167 cm.

Birthday : 15th of November (Loy Kratong)

Age : 18

Homeland : East of Scalding Sands (Attidaya)

Best Subject : Practical Magic

Club : Equestrian club

Talents : Horseback riding, swimming.

Hobby : Taking care of his pet *jet dragon horse (Nhil - ม้านิลมังกร)

Dislikes : Nagas, sea snakes

Favorite Food : Tom Yum Khung (ต้มยำกุ้ง)

Least Favorite Food : Traditional medicine, bitter herbs.

꧁𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜꧂

- 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝗼𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚: the ability to summon an extinct, magic creature of the sea: the Jet Dragon Horse. Suchol can command the horse at will whether to attack or to use it as a means of transportation, both on land and sea.

- Suchol can breathe underwater.

꧁𝐅𝐮𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡𝗼𝐥꧂

- Suchol’s first name “Sucholatee” means beautiful sea and his last name “Thipchalalai” means the angel’s ocean✨

- Suchol is based off of another famous literature piece (famous as in it has been in plays for countless of times- like Romeo and Juliet💀) called Phra Apai Manee (พระอภัยมณี) and he’s based on a character named Sudsakorn! The story is a bout Sudsakon, a half mer half human boy, goes on a journey to find his father.

- Spoiler alert: tbh his father is lowley a piece of shit based on what I remember😭 He has a lot of wives (at that time having many wives is a power status, and he’s a king) and he fell in love with a mermaid who is Sudsakorn’s mother. THEN HE LEAVES SO THAT’S WHY SUDSAKORN GREW UP TO LOOK FOR HIM. The dad’s also the protagonist of the story (his name is on the title) but I’m purely writing this out of memory because so many things happened in the story and I have to go reread it again. The dad left for some “duties” but got a new wife along the journey like bruh🗿

- Back to Suchol though, his horse Nhil (or should I say his unique magic👀) is based off of the horse dragon in the literature piece! The horse dragon is a wild animal, and its strength even rivals yakshas. But Sudsakorn decided that no☝️you are my friend and I will treat you like you’re some stray cat on the street☝️ and that’s how Sudsakorn got his mount HSJDJUJSUJDU

- To elaborate further on his Unique magic, it’s kind of like Kalim’s magic carpet. The magic carpet is a replica of the original one, and Suchol’s horse dragon ability is a replica of the extinct animal🫶✨

꧁𝐀𝐛𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡𝗼𝐥꧂

- Sucholatee Thipchalalai or Suchol for short, is an aspiring and dutiful young half-mer of Royal sword Academy- sorry that was a lie, he’s actually a trouble maker. Don’t let his pretty face fool you!

- Oh, he’d stir up trouble and pranks everywhere. Like dude, how’d you get here in this academy of all places?? You sure you’re not from NRC? You didn’t snuck in here did you?

- Aside from his infamous tricks and such at the academy, he’s quite a sweetheart to his family; his single mother who is a mermaid, and his surrogate father who is an old man next door.

- Growing up on an island with fairytales and stories being told to him constantly, he grew up to believe it is all true. That is to say, he’s the type to believe that Santa Claus is real (and he still does please don’t break the news to him🙏)

- Suchol was a young prodigy due to the mysterious ways his surrogate father taught him magic. It ranges from animal linguistics to ancient magic! That said, he doesn’t find a need to study and still gets good grades. Lucky bastard🙄 /lh

- The general rule of hanging out with Suchol is to NEVER mention Charin. Ever. Not because he hates the yaksha, it’s more like Suchol sees him as his idol. Charin was the older brother Suchol never had. The red eye shadow he wears is proof that he wants to grow up to be just like Charin!

- Suchol is the type of guy who says the most mind boggling, crazy, unbelievable thing ever but it turns out to be true.

- “My dad is a king from a far away land!” Yeah sure buddy 🤥 (it’s actually true)

- But hey, being a bad boy and a trickster aside, having a friend like Suchol is like a breath of fresh air. He’ll drag you to fun fairs and games, making sure you having the time of your life is his priority.

- One of his best qualities (maybe the only one /j im kidding) is honesty. Suchol finds it difficult to lie. While he wouldn’t be blunt about it (*cough* Mathura *cough*), he still makes sure to be honest without hurting anyone’s feelings.

- So what do you say? You don’t wanna miss out on one of the best rides of your life, right? Suchol can’t wait to show off his new friend his legendary horse!

*jet in this case refers to the gemstone

*picture of the dragon horse since I’m too lazy to draw it (the horse has shining black scales that looks like the jet gemstone)

“PS. Invite Charin if you can!” <- his words not mine.

#Suchol 𓆝 ⋆.𖦹°‧ #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #original character #Suchol #☂︎︎​siphok-museum☂︎︎ #he got some brotherly instincts from Charin #so he feels the need to look after Pin-Cha sometimes🫶 #and yes Charin has a side job #he’s a warden for the most dangerous prison in Attidaya #and it’s in the deepest parts of the ocean! #Charin Kamolnath #Charin #Charin Kamolnath༄

[snaillock]

hi!! it's me again 😭😭 I was going to ask for one of my favs, my boy Barou ☹️ I love this trope and even more with his personality 😓. So yk he's like so strong characted and it's like 🤨😠 well what about a small drable(? (I think it's called that way, like a little fic? bcs rules say u don't write much of that and I don't want to press 😿) when he's like that even with m reader (when they're in public) but in an affectionate way? like angry love, and when they're alone he's a complete cutie pay 🤭 I love him so much please 😭😭

anyways if you can do that please it would be great! take care!!

i’m sorry this took a while to finish😭 for some reason, i was having so much trouble writing this so i hope it’s to your satisfaction. also bc of this request, the rules have since been updated cause there were worded very very poorly (my bad) but it should be all good. hopefully there will be no more confusion from now on

tags: male reader, barou’s loving insults w.c: 0.3k

“barou!” you yelled out before running towards him and wrapping your arms around him, “great job at practice today!”

“god, don’t do this around here, you idiot,” barou complained while glancing back at his teammates but still hugged you back.

“oh please, me being here doesn’t take away from your king status.”

he rolled his eyes and released you, “shut up and let’s head home already, dumbass.”

you giggled and grabbed his hand, “alrighty you asshole.”

“ugh,” he groaned and averted his eyes away from you but didn’t pull his hand away, “don’t embarrass me in front of the team”

“why do you care about what they think?” you raised an eyebrow in amusement, “you once told me that ‘they’re a bunch of lowlife servants that only exist to live under your rule’”

“whatever let’s just go already, you damn loser”

once you got to barou’s house, you immediately dropped your backpack on his bedroom floor and flopped onto his bed.

“nope! bag at the door and no uniform on the bed.”

“come on… you’re really going to make me sit on the floor, baby?” you whined, already relaxing in his bed.

“don’t think you can sweet talk me of all people just because you’re my boyfriend.” he crossed his arms.

“yes i can. now get over here.” you patted the spot right next to you.

barou glared at you in disbelief before sighing and giving in, sitting right next to you. you grinned and threw your arms around him, leaning on his shoulder. “see you can’t resist me because you love me!”

he rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around you. “yeah unfortunately you’re right. i do really love you,” he said, unable to hold back an adoring smile. he then kissed your forehead. “you damn idiot.”

taglist(if you want to be added let me know!): @userwithlotsoftime (ty for asking to be in a taglist btw!)

#★ snail.writes ★ #scheduled #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock x male reader #barou shoei #barou shoei x reader #barou x male reader #male reader #wrote this while looping hello kitty kat by smashing pumpkins #such a good ass song btw holy shit

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jamil, Idia: Desires so Deep

Ignore me getting a late start on this new birthday series 💀 (Got busy with irl stuff!!)

Oddly enough, the vignettes don’t mention Jamil’s birthday at all; they’re at the National Art Museum in the Land of Dawning to celebrate its 100th anniversary. It seems this new series (Platinum Jacket) will have vignettes with more focus on how the boys relate to and what they think about important historical figures in Twisted Wonderland!

… Also, the fact that the book 7 part 5 update came out a few days before Jamil’s birthday… and then his vignettes go and show a Maleficent painting in them… Yeah 😭 but what’s even funnier to me is that Idia calls Jamil a chuunibyou WHich iS SO ACCURATE, THANK YoU fOR CALLinG HIS ASS OuT, KING 🙏 What is Jamil doing in that sussy Groovy if not being a chunni…

A Tale as Old as Time.

Contained within a shining platinum frame was an illustration of a starry scene. A man in a fine white turban crowned by a single violet plume. A woman, perched on a balcony, in a refreshing blue-green, a jasmine flower set into her long, dark braid.

They stared longingly into each other’s eyes, conveying an emotion not spoken aloud. No words were needed for what they had: a love so tender it made the night weep. The stars into glittering tears sliding down the face of darkness.

Standing before the painting of the happy couple, Jamil folded his arms and frowned.

… Can feelings truly defy social status?

"A street rat marrying a princess… Hah."

His fingers curled to fists, digging into the pristine white fabric of his suit. Jamil's expression remained neutral, no hint of the bitterness brewing within. He was a master of leashing it.

What nonsense. I doubt their happiness lasted long. The difference in their standing is far too vast to be bridged.

Jamil lowered his gaze and looked away.

Adjacent to the loving pair was a spindly man with a curled goatee. His crimson and black headdress resembled the flared hood of a desert viper—a look iconic to the Sorcerer of the Sands. He gleefully clasped a golden oil lamp in his long, bony fingers. A remarkable achievement, an item he had been searching his entire life for.

Now, here was a great man. Someone who had slaved away and earned his reputation, climbed in social ranks on merit alone. The Sorcerer of the Sands would die a highly accomplished man, advisor to a sultan, renown scholar mage, and seeker of truth.

The very symbol of Scarabia’s spirit of deliberation.

"Jamil-shi?"

The voice was soft and nervous, like that of a specter not yet parted from this world. A faint blue glow fell upon the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Jamil turned, releasing a sigh when he realized who had appeared beside him. "... Oh. It's you, Idia-senpai."

"Eeep!" His upperclassman jumped at the mention of his name. He clung to the doorway, and anxiety evident on his pale face.

"Well? Don't let my presence deter you from appreciating the artwork."

"N-No, that's okay!! It was getting to be too crowded in the main hall, so I wanted to dip and take a breather somewhere quiet to let my stamina recharge... b-but that's completely pointless if other people are still around!"

"You won't even notice me. I not a snake—I don't bite," Jamil insisted flatly. Not unless I want to. "You look suspicious lurking in the doorframe. You may as well come in."

Left with no other choice, Idia awkwardly shuffled into the exhibit.

He positioned himself a good distance away from Jamil, not saying so much as a word as he stared at an ornate figure of a broad-bodied ape. Its lips were twisted into a grotesquely wide smile.

Nestled in the monkey’s palms was a massive red jewel, glistening even in the scarce light. Idia's own terrified reflection bounced back at him in the gem’s many facets.

"Can't believe I got dragged out for this," the third year grumbled under his breath. "I-I wanted to go to that pop-up Sled Over Heels collab cafe with the walk-in museum... Instead I have to be here and gawk at the same pictures I've seen over and over again in magic history textbooks... Aaah, it totally doesn't compare at all to cute anime girls pouring all their passion into the artful sport of sledding!"

Some small, fragmented part of Jamil grimaced at the disrespect, try as he might to close off his ears, to not engage. No good ever comes of provoking a stubborn mule, he chided himself.

But the devil on his left shoulder pounced.

"Idia-senpai," Jamil spoke carefully, a slight edge to his voice. It made the hairs on the back of Idia's neck stand at attention. "Are you not a fan of this style of artwork? Or is it the subject matter you find distasteful?"

His upperclassmen startled. Horrified as the realization that Jamil had heard his every complaint, the tips of his flaming hair colored pink.

"W-Well... I'm not exactly a buff for this kind of thing," Idia stuttered. "It's ancient history. Been there, don’t that. Th-There's really no point in being on that grind cycle if it all just amounts to the same ending anyway. That's basically all history is, anyway."

Jamil bristled—though he took care to not let it show. "I beg to differ. The story of the Sorcerer of the Sands defies such paltry notions. He struggled much in his life, even served under a carefree, incompetent sultan that barely listened to a work he said.”

I know what that’s like.

“Jamil…!”

A smile he thoroughly detested flashed in his mind. So big and pearly and irritating as he offered him his hand.

“Let’s start over. We can be rivals… but we can be friends too.”

But that boy was a fool.

Feelings can’t trump social status. Not then, not now. Not ever.

“And yet it was thanks to his contributions that he is remembered today as one of the greatest men to have ever lived. The Sorcerer of the Sands was able to break free and live as he desired. He acquired the Genie of the Lamp and phenomenal cosmic power. He decided his own destiny.”

"Uweh, sounds like he's your kami-oshi, Jamil-shi... I guess it makes sense though, since you and the Sorcerer of the Sands are the same character archetype and everything. Chunnibyous gotta stick together and all…”

"… What is that supposed to mean?" Jamil planted his hands on his hips. He didn’t understand all of Idia’s slang, but he also wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Idia's eyes—wide and anxious—cut away from him. “I-It’s nothing important…”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“B-Because you’re definitely the type who would hold a grudge if anyone pisses you off!!”

“How rude. I’m offended that you think so lowly of me.” Jamil allowed himself a little smirk. “I’ll have you know that I won’t stop there. In fact, I’ll enact a vengeance plot so excruciatingly humiliating that you won’t ever be able to face the light of day comfortably again.”

“S-See?! That’s what I meant!! Y-You’re a certified chuunibyou!!”

“Whatever that means, I assure you that I’m not. Is it so wrong to look back on history and to appreciate how far we’ve come since?”

“Th-That’s…”

Jamil found himself returning to the painting of the Sorcerer with the lamp. He was almost drawn to it, lulled into a hypnotic trance. An item that could make all of his hopes come true…

“Let me ask you this: if you could have any wish granted, what would that wish be?”

“E-Eh?! Any wish…” Idia fiddled with the glittering buttons on his suit. He nibbled on his lower lip, a darkness having swept up what little color there was left to him. “I-I can’t say it, but… more than anything, there’s someone I want to say goodbye to.”

“I see. A fond farewell.”

Letting go.

Jamil’s chest tightened.

In a distant memory, flowers of fire lit up the night. He had been dancing then, hair and fabric flying as he spun and spun and spun. When had he last felt so free? His wings unbound, the sky as his limits.

“As for myself, what I wish for most of all is…”

He glanced back at the painting of the two lovers. Star-crossed, against a star-streaked sky. Adventure calling, liberation beckoning.

A look most malicious graced his careful controlled features. Lips in a lopsided smirk, eyes like daggers, glinting sinisterly in the dark. Concealed weapons rising to the surface.

“… to be well-connected with people who may prove useful in attaining my dreams. Yes, that’s it. Useful.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Jamil Viper #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #Jafar #Aladdin #Princess Jasmine #something no one asked for #Jamil birthday takeover #Zazu #Maleficent

[eeblouissant]

tag game :)

I was tagged by @hecatesbroom (thank you!! ahh I love love tag games they’re sm fun :D it’s like free rambling time lol)

Last song: red bone by childish gambino. I needed a certain vibe for a certain something I was drawing 🚶🏻‍♀️

Last book: the little princesses by Marion Crawford. Such a cute read! She was queen Elizabeth ii & Princess Margaret’s nanny (governess) & teacher during their childhood, & was essentially shunned after publishing this book (in 1950-51 I believe? Shortly before the king died). I’m almost finished with it.

Last movie: honestly I can’t remember 😭 I don’t watch many things, I have a hard time paying attention if I’m not reading a book or drawing. I like hands on entertainment otherwise I just fall asleep.

Last TV show: the golden girls, obviously! One of the only tv shows I can watch without falling asleep 😂 although anything involving Bea Arthur tends to keep me wide awake.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: savoury for sure. Always.

Relationship status: obsessed with my wife that I also sometimes call my husband, I love my lesbian husband she treats me so well 🥰

Last thing I googled: searched through the deep depths of Pinterest (so, I googled *for* Pinterest, because I don’t have the app on my phone. If I can save storage and use a website why wouldn’t I 🤷🏻‍♀️) for a picture of Blanche in that cowgirl outfit, because I couldn’t remember exactly what it looked like.

Current obsession(s): the golden girls, & of course my special interest because that will just never leave me 😅

Looking forward to: finally finding work again! Just waiting on a phone call from any of the places I’ve applied to :’) it’s rough out here but oh boy I need work. Aside from that, I was invited to a party this weekend and ohhhh I’m so excited to enjoy that. So excited.

I almost never tag anyone in these things (+ a good chunk of my mutuals were tagged in the post I was!) so if you see this and wanna do it, do it! Come ramble!!!

#these are seriously my fav things to be tagged in #I love talking about the most random things #rambling is such a joy #tag game

[riseofamoonycake]

I just read your NSFW headcanon for indra and it's just 😍 I'm glad someone else in the fandom is making content about him and the other Hindu gods.

Btw when I started doing research on the Hindu gods after reading round 5 in the manga, I was SHOOK from reading about the actual indra in hinduism. He's not just a regular thunder god, HE'S THE FREAKING KING OF SVARGA!! He rules over all the devas (Excluding shiva, vishnu, and brahma) and is 10 times more powerful than zeus!

We were robbed of seeing RoR!Indra wearing some royal attire! 😭 But I still love his design❤️

AAAAA WHAT A BEAUTIFUL POST SWEET ANON!

I live for the Hindu pantheon, everyone here knows it ahahahah. The Hindu gods are comfort for me, therapy and love love love, I adore even the less known, like Varuna, my beloved 😍, or that big boy of Agni. So prepare yourself because I'll write a lot about them all.

Oh yes! There are a lot of things sooo much interesting about the Hindu gods that Ror didn't insert, like Rudra as the dark side of the Deity, Varuna and Indra who often are paired up, the fourth wife of Shiva, the role of Vishnu... A lot of marvelous stuff!

Speaking about the royal attire for Indra, maybe his tattoos mean his noble status, like ritual marks?

HIS DESIGN >>> The hotness incarnated. He's so handsome, manly and aAaAaA

@praisethesuuun this is for you, the only queen of Indra ⚡⚡⚡

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror #Snv #record of ragnarok indra #Ror indra #ror hindu pantheon

[gavidaily]

https://twitter.com/fcbarcelona_es/status/1658102706655854595?s=46&t=zCHzElsqHEVL0Lb2wq92ww i was wondering why gavi isn’t here because he’s of legal drinking age already but then i realized that he’s shy and doesn’t do PR things 😭 our introverted king

right? I thought the same thing and that maybe the club doesn't want to associate him with the beer and even tho he’s 18, he is seen as more as a kid/boy. But haha today we have the bus parade with him drinking (as the whole team). Anyway introverted shy king that only Nike can make him do promo

#Also I know I disappeared I had some crazy days at work #And I’ll upload yesterday game’s gifs later today I promise #But a special ‘Gavi la liga champion’ post only when they get the trophy 🥺 #Also gonna reply all the asks today later at the gym #Hope you are doing good and enjoyed the game #I’d very much like to be in Barcelona today #Ask #anon #gavidaily asks

[mushroom-jack]

HIIII

I ADMIRE YOUR WORKS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FEEDING US TOMPERCY CONTENT!! <333

I have a silly idea, but I want to share it with someone, so... TomPercy AU, in which Tom is a boy monarch and Percy is a nobleman and a whipping boy (quote from wiki bc i can't explain it properly: «A boy educated alongside a prince, who supposedly received corporal punishment for the prince's transgressions in his presence. The prince was not punished himself because his royal status exceeded that of his tutor; seeing a friend punished would provide an equivalent motivation not to repeat the offence. An archaic proverb which captures a similar idea is "to beat a dog before a lion"...»)

Sorry, this idea lives in my head rent free—

HELLOOOOO! Thank you so much for the kind words anon! You're too nicies to meeeee 😭

the concept of a "whipping boy" is genuinely so fucked up and like certified insane... but seeing as tompercy is also certified insane I can see if working for them??? That's like suuuuch a fucked childhood friends sort of AU. The idea of Tom and Percy scheming together as young boys do (I'm imagining them to be around 10 years old here, just because that's peak little boy scheming age), plotting to sneak into the restricted section of the library or into the king's study, just like crouched with their heads together in the garden giggling – vs the absolute WHIPLASH of Tom standing there impassively, with perfect princely posture, as he's forced to watch Percy get crucio'd. Oooooh that's so insane.

#tompercy #asks

[skitskatdacat63]

"The body and face of this sculpture are in idealized youth, with plump cheeks and round face, and his hair is usually unkempt..his youthful appearance, large eyes, pouting lips, and layered locks of hair over his forehead are some of the iconography that can be used to identify him"

^ this quote is genuinely still fucking plaguing me. THIS IS LITERALLY SEB???? LIKE LITERALLY 2010 SEB SPECIFICALLY????? It is actually fucking me up how it is literally quintessentially Seb. Like big eyes...plump cheeks and round face...unkempt hair...pouty lips...okay okay okay!!!! And that Antinous is basically the peak perfection of pretty boy from that time, I'm like, yeah that's Seb to me 🥹🥹🤧🤧

But god the "youthful appearance, big eyes, pouting lips, and layered locks of hair over his forehead" Does that quote not evoke pictures like these in your head???????

I feel so unwell about it 😭😭 I am going through it 😭😭

#in march i think i compared seb to the david #which i still think is just as good a comparison #but this makes me infinitely more insane #bcs the david one was more just about looks and so is this one #but the fact that theres so many statues of Antinous and his image is so consistent and perfectly matches seb??? okay. #and also in that post i did compare seb to an antinous statue as well hahaha #but i think the statues i picked for the recent drawing i did were a lot closer #basically: seb is a masterpiece. a piece of art. to me. #but i really like making historical comparisons(as you well know by now) but gah when it fits so perfectly like this #it makes me emo for some reason 😭😭😭 #i think boy king is still my fav au and i always feel like a maniac abt all that historical basis #but this one just gaahhhhh like hes just a pretty boy 🥹 the prettiest boy #lmfao i come back from the race wknd and im like yep back to normal procedures: crying over seb #catie.rambling.txt #sebastian vettel

[obiwon-shenobi]

The funniest (laugh else you go crazy haha) thing about Azulon and The Phoenix King of Getting His Butt Whooped™️ is that… they just thought the avatar was dead?

Yall assumed by massacring ALL the airbenders “fixed” your avatar problem? Did it not dawn on them when they weren’t reborn that perhaps, just maybe, the fire nation FAILED its mission?

“But what if the cycle was broken—” you heard useless ass Roku, gotta be in the avatar state to kill Raava. Or as Korra demonstrated—Raava pulled from you.

At no point did it mention killing an infant baby or young child human as ways to break the cycle.

Bigotry makes you forget the avatar is an ever occurring phenomenon. Cuz why did they assume “no airbenders? No avatar!”

Yes ofc they took northern water tribespeople, but not for the expressed purpose of avatar farming.

N the earth kingdom??!! lol. Took em this long to get in, and earth avatar would have BEEN fucking their shit up depending on where they were raised (BSS? No. Omashu? Likely!)

They knew they could go after the air nation, no army, no military strategists, Kelsang the only air bender recorded up till now with the chops to save the air nation. An air avatar? Bet, like screaming mountain lions—a false sense of security washes over the fire nation. 100 years?! Yeah! We MURKED that ever-lasting-

I bet the fire lord was not expecting a 12 year old boy to lay waste to his empire off pure shenanigans and vibes alone.

Bigotry makes you forget the avatar is an ever occurring phenomenon. Cuz why did they assume “no airbenders? No avatar!”

If I were Zuko, like truly, the way I’d defect—like you got me out here searching for a DEAD person? 100 years n you want ME TO FIND HIM?! You must have lost your goddamn mind.

I mean look at Iroh, he treated that shit like a vacation 😂

Gahhhhhhhleeeeeeeee, searching for a 100 year old corpse?

Yeah war over, killed my own genocidal father with my own two hands. No, not for glory, cuz he told me earn my honor back via mythological creature. The abuse is crazy but you’re sending me on a wild goose—I hope you n Azulon are kekeing it down in hell, whew bitch. The mf avatar.

This was way longer than intended, but my black ass gotta lot of feelings about Zuko being tasked with finding a 100 year old man with an unconfirmed living status. 😭 woulda been my last straw.

#zuko you champ #ozai really was the first father lord #Azulon #according to Azula #was pretty GODDAMN BAD #BUT rather than taking Zuko life #like your dad wanted #you instead turn him into… this fucking thing. #look at him #He’s shaking #And that #*points to azula* #YOU’RE A BAD DAD HOMIE.

[februaryflowers]

deja vu

order up: a raspberry mint lemonade and mango popping pearls for wonwoo and @bermudas!

an assassins + reincarnation, enemies/rivals to lovers angst (+ royalty)

check out the carat writers club summer fair event!

warnings: language, guns, graphic violence, death and murder, blood, sui, major character deaths (multiple times), stabbing, loud noises, heartbreak, kissing

angst + fluff if you squint, 2763 words, wonwoo x reader 

a/n: my lovely eun :( i hope you like this (sorry i leaned too much into the royalty au compared to assassins 😭) and i love you lots. thank you for all you do and i’m so proud of you :fernando: 

thank you to @sansang for showing me the way of the angst + also @hao-are-xu​​ for reading

Once is an unfortunate accident. 

“Quit following me,” you seethe, turning around to face the man who has become such a nuisance to your life in the past month. You exhale with such ferocity that you’re sure Wonwoo can hear it as you poke his chest with your index finger. “Get lost.”

“No can do, Your Highness,” he says simply. 

Crossing your arms, you glare at him. “Why not? Am I not royalty? Am I not your boss?”

He hesitates before bringing a hand to his forehead. “Well…you are, but the king and the general insisted that I protect you. I can’t disobey orders like that.”

You roll your eyes before you turn back around and continue making your way to your quarters. “Insubordinate little bitch boy,” you mutter. You decide to glance back at him once more, and when he finds your features, you squint a glare towards him before turning around and straightening your posture. “I don’t get why the court trusts you,” you spit. “You’re nothing but a traitor.”

Wonwoo has gotten used to your little attitude towards him in the month he’s been tasked with protecting you, but you haven’t warmed up to him one bit. When the general informed you that Wonwoo was to guard you 24/7, and, on top of that, the fact that he was an assassin for the enemy kingdom before coming here, you took none of it. But what could you do? You weren’t in charge. At the very least, you could make it known how much you distrusted and hated him.

“Hey,” he breathes, putting a hand on your shoulder which you shrug off.

“What?”

Reaching a finger for your chin, he turns your head to face him. “You’re forgetting that I’m a traitor with information to save your oh so precious life.”

The way your heart races makes you sick. He makes you sick. Yet, you always say that it’s all because of his status. In the month you’ve been forced together, the way he deals with your temper, the way he sneaks into town to fetch treats from your favorite bakery, the way he has never been late or given a reason to doubt him (other than the obvious about his past), they’ve all meant nothing. They haven’t moved you, not one bit, you tell yourself. 

You move your head in a jerk, removing his touch from your skin before you meet his eye. “What? You think just because you can lie your way through some interrogation that you suddenly are a hero that deserves my confidence? Think again.”

You scoff when he has no reply, looking him up and down in disbelief. “I would’ve thought you’d have a little more bark to your bite. Some assassin you are.”

Storming off, you let the force of your steps shake the building, not caring who’s around to hear or feel it. They didn’t care when Wonwoo was thrust upon you. Let them see how it feels. Let the universe feel it for putting you here. 

But when you make it back to your room, it’s way too quiet. Usually maids and butlers are shuffling in and out, cleaning and preparing for you, but not a soul is in sight or in ear shot. 

“Stay behind me,” Wonwoo murmurs, hunching down and trying to shift in front of you before you enter.

“You think I’m gonna listen to you?” you taunt. “How do I know this isn’t a trick, you backstabber?”

You push the handle open, and immediately a shot rings out, causing you to duck. 

“Shit, shit shit,” you mutter, crawling on your knees and hands. 

When you glance up, you see it. A man in all black and a ski mask sits on your pristine bed, holding the gun out towards you. “Well, well, well,” he snickers. “Look who’s here.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you want but—”

He laughs before deadpanning. “I want you dead.”

“But I—”

“Shut it.”

You swallow, giving him a small nod as you raise your hands to your head. “Fine. Take me. Just, please, don’t hurt anyone else,” you say, letting out a small breath as you finish with lowered lids. 

“Didn’t think it’d be this easy,” he sneers.

“Y/n, don’t—” Wonwoo says, taking a step towards you.

“Watch it, pretty boy,” the intruder says, sparing him a glance. “Don’t think I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done. Hands above your head.”

Wonwoo glances between you and the masked man before biting his lip and sinking to his knees next to you.

“Look at that,” the assassin says, a wicked smile overcoming his features as he lets out a deep belly laugh. “The two most wanted people in my whole kingdom at my feet.” He then scowls, holding out his weapon. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?”

A shaky breath comes out and you force yourself to keep your eyes locked on the floor, on the crisscross pattern of the floorboards. You don’t want your last sight before dying to be of your killer. “Just…don’t hurt anyone else,” you whimper. “Let Wonwoo go. It’s me you want.”

He scoffs. “As if. When will this opportunity ever come again?”

He takes aim, and you bite down harder and clench your jaw, preparing for the boom, the ricochet, the pain. 

The sound comes.

Then it comes again.

The pain doesn’t.

Your eyes shoot open, catching the masked man lying in a pool of his own blood. Then, Wonwoo comes down in a crash.

“Wonwoo!” you gasp, scrambling towards him.

Blood seeps from his chest, and you’re sure he’s in unbearable pain, but somehow, there’s a smile lacing his lips. “Don’t worry about me, okay?” he murmurs.

“What? No! I’ll go get—”

“No, it’s okay,” he says as you help him lie down on the carpet and he lets out a cough. “I’ll be out in a minute. There won’t be enough time.”

“Wonwoo,” you warn, but he brings his index finger shakily to your lips, shushing you. 

“My job is to protect you.” 

“No! I can go get the doctor and we can—”

“It’s okay,” he says gently, calmly, as if his time on earth isn’t ticking down. “Just, let me be, alright? I want you here.”

You blink, tears rising up to the surface and falling on Wonwoo’s face as you hold it in your palms. “I’m sorry. I’m so…I’m so fucking sorry. You—”

“Don’t be sorry.” He has the audacity to grin. “It was a pleasure to serve you, Your Highness. I loved every moment.”

“Don’t lie,” you murmur, brushing the hair out of his face. “I was a miserable asshole to be around.”

He reaches a hand to meet yours. “You had all the reason to be. Besides, I saw the goodness in you. So, don’t feel bad, alright?”

“Wonwoo—”

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your hand.

His last breath reaches your skin, and you drape yourself over him, letting the tears run and seep into his shirt as if you can bring him back to life. 

Living without Wonwoo is a miserable way of living. You find yourself missing his presence, his company, his quiet yet smart quips. Life is so still without him, so colorless, so mundane. 

Sure, you technically lived because of Wonwoo. But it was hardly a full life. One where you didn’t have such a large, warm being there for you, with your best interest in mind. One where you were forced into a loveless marriage for politics while you spent your whole life thinking of another. You were simply a pawn in the game of war and power. So did you really live?

But twice is a tragic coincidence.

“Maybe I should start calling you my king, my king,” you tease as Wonwoo gets his coronation suit put on by servants.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re the last person I want to call me that.”

“Why?” You pretend to pout before you saunter over and poke his chest. “I used to call you that when we were kids, no?”

“That’s different,” he whines before sighing. “Now it feels so real.”

You offer a small smile and rub his arm. When a shaky breath falls from his lips, you assume it must be from his nerves. He is, after all, about to become a king.

But in reality, its origin is your touch, your closeness. For as long as Wonwoo can remember, he has loved you. He doesn’t really know when it started. Maybe it was when you used to romp around the grounds together. Or maybe it was when he’d steal glances at you while you fought to become a trained assassin. Or maybe it was even when you were assigned to protect him, and with a mischievous, knowing smile, you took the offer and started spending every day with him. He can’t remember the last day he had without you in it, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He just wishes he could tell you.

As he glances out the window, he wishes he could freeze time to last night. The puffy clouds fill the sky instead of the sparkling stars, and a much lighter blue fills the daytime. 

But it’s the moment in the night that you spent, the things you said, that make him wish it would stay that day forever.

There was so much pressure, so much nervousness, in his chest, and yet, with you, it was nothing. He was simply another man in the world with someone he loved, not the next king of a kingdom.

And you squeezed his hand, pointing at the brightest star in the sky, and told him that that was him while his heart pounded so loud that he thought you could hear it.

Then you brought your hand to his cheek and shifted to sit next to his head as he lay in the grass, the reflections of all the sparkles in the night in his eyes and illuminating his wide pupils even more. 

“If I die, don’t be sad,” you murmured.  

He scrambled to kneel next to you. “What? What are you talking about? Huh?”

Offering a small smile, you patted his cheek and then his arm, letting your hand grasp him. “It’s inevitable, with this job, don’t you think?”

He went quiet. 

“Don’t think about me too much, okay? I want you to be happy. And we’ll meet in the stars some day. It’ll be fine.”

He hesitated before meeting your eyes, lifting his gaze from the ground. “Don’t say those things. I won’t let you die.”

A small sigh fell from his lips as you cupped his face in your hands. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Besides, it’s my job. I’d be happier knowing that you’ll be alright.”

With his eyes closed, he brought your fingers to his lips. 

Whenever he acted like this, in moments where it was just you, you and him so close, your heart would race more than it would in any battle or any fight. It was silly to admit. You, a trained assassin, brought to your knees by a boy you’d known for forever. But it was true.

Too bad that even when promises are kept, they can still hurt sometimes.

Wonwoo spots the shadows of figures lurking behind the throne as the crowd rises. His eyes flicker to you, none the wiser in the front row. You bounce on your heels, your hands shaking with anticipation for the biggest moment of your best friend’s life. 

He’d sworn the general said that today was secure and that there were no threats. But perhaps this was so well hidden that even the best forces in the world couldn’t prevent it.

Every step closer has his pulse beating louder in his ears. Every step is a step closer to death. 

But he flashes a smile towards the camera, towards you, anyway.

And when he turns to face the audience after mounting the steps, he feels it, the sharp pain in his chest. 

The crowd gasps and scrambles, racing out the door. The footsteps of hundreds of guards running out the side doors is all he can hear over the raucous as he falls to the ground.

And then he hears your scream.

“Wonwoo!” you cry, dashing towards him and catching him before his body slumps to the ground. “Oh my god,” you mutter, over and over again as you press your hand to the wet spot that soaks his cape.

“Y/n,” he coughs before he reaches for your cheek. “It’s okay.”

“How can you say it’s okay!?” you exclaim.

He offers as bright of a smile as he can muster. “Don’t think about me too much,” he whispers, repeating your words. “I want you to be happy. I’d be happier knowing that you’ll be alright.”

“How can you say something like that?” you sob, your tears pooling on Wonwoo’s cheeks. 

A pang reaches his chest. Why does this feel so familiar? It’s like a hazy memory, a story long forgotten until something new comes up to let it resurface. It’s like a memory from the earliest days of childhood, there but suppressed. You must feel it too.

“Come closer,” he murmurs.

You do as he says, lowering your face to be mere inches from his, and with his last dregs of strength, he lifts his lips to your forehead. “I’m okay.”

Then he falls limp in your lap. 

“No!” you scream before sobs and wails overtake you. “I love you. Please, please, come back,” you whimper, clutching at his robes.

When more guards come to the scene, they have to drag you from his body soaked in blood and salty tears.

And thrice is a cruel fate.

The sirens go off. Your blood runs cold.

Wonwoo wastes no time in rushing you to the nearest bunker for safety from the intruders, but they still find you and tail you anyway.

Despite locking and reinforcing the door, it only takes a large group of them a minute or two to bust it down.

When you meet their eyes, trying to catch your breath, you know how this ends. 

“Don’t hurt him!” you exclaim, jumping in front of him as the shots ring out.

When you land on top of him, warmth leaving your body, he glances up the steps to the murderers. He tries to pull out his own weapon before they escape, but, using the last of your might, you hold his hand down.

“Don’t,” you whisper. 

“But—”

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Y/n, what are you on about!?” he screams. “You’re dying!”

“I know.” You hold his hand in your clammy one. “But stay with me.”

A wavering breath falls from his trembling lips. “You shouldn’t have done that. I could’ve taken them or—”

“No, it’s okay.” 

You know he’s lying. There were at least 10 of them here in the room alone. Both of you getting out of here wasn’t going to happen. But you were their target. At least now one of you  will get to live.

And you have the nerve to smile in your dying moments. “I love you always, Wonwoo.”

Then the grasp on his hand loosens and your head falls back. 

Words start to come to him. He doesn’t know from where. He doesn’t remember you saying them, but they’re in your voice. In his heart, he knows they’re yours.

‘Don’t think about me too much, okay? I want you to be happy. And we’ll meet in the stars some day. It’ll be fine.’

And yet, he can’t believe it. He can’t believe you.

There was always a hope for another lifetime. But this time, Wonwoo can’t find that reassurance in his head nor his heart. This is it. This is the last lifetime you will ever share. 

And his heart begins to cave in.

He clutches his chest as he falls, a last exhale falling on the back of your neck. He will never get to love you. He will never get a happy ending with you. How can you be both written in the stars, yet star crossed lovers?

How many times must you both have to die at the hands of fate? Why can’t you just get your happy ending? 

A final tear slips from Wonwoo’s eye, falling to the ground and getting soaked into the rug as if it never happened in the first place.

All it does is take. Why is fate so merciless?

#summer fair drabble requests #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #mei's #tw gun #tw violence #tw death #tw murder #tw blo0d #tw sui #tw stab mention #mei.svt

[kexing]

I love Joss's response to Force's photobook pics

Indeed Joss, indeed 😌

And I love that JoongDunk are ALWAYS the first to comment on any of Force & Book's posts. I think they're bigger fans than we are. 😆

I love seeing these boys support each other...and give each other shit at the same time ❤️

Just wanted to share my random thoughts before I head to bed. Goodnight bestie! May we have some sweet ForceBook dreams tonight ✨️ ✨️

aldkskkdskkdkskd joss is Absolutely right. force has all the spices needed already!!!

“YUMMY” ALKDKSKDKSKDKSKDKSKSKS not the food, right dunk???! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

JOONG IS HIS MIRANDA PRIESTLY ERA

imagine if joongdunk have forcebook’s notifications on aldkksdkkskdskkdksksk

truly. we lost our biggest fans status to joongdunk 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

same!!! it’s very lovely to see them supporting each other and still comfortable enough to joke around.

thank you for sharing!!! hope you slept or is sleeping well!

i always dream of forcebook or at least one of them! i just woke up from a dream with force btw. we were like. in a house?? no idea who’s house that was tho. and he was doing something in a computer. then the moment he said to me “hey, look at this” the power went off and i couldn’t see what force was trying to show me 😭😭😭

soon after he left cuz he said he had an event with offgun. random but okay. go off king 🧡🧡🧡🧡

#i dream a lot of book and he’s always trying to sell tomato merch #and i’m always trying to buy it but he thinks i’m a stalker #DUDE I AM YOUR FAN. GIVE ME A SHIRTTTTTTT #haven’t been able to get one yet #ellasaru12 #mj got mail!

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Hello again, another question about traveler Gai, do you think he made it back to his home kingdom? That he fulfilled his quest before his death? (You mentioned him maybe dying in front of Kakashi.)

I kept picturing him running into renaments of his past lives. Like he goes to a kingdom and sees a statue of a beautiful princess, and felt a strong affection for it and her story immediately. And she was the woman who he married as King Gai.

He crosses a field and just stops and feels a sense of regret and sadness roll over him. And needs to take a break. Later he learns that was an ancient battle ground, where an army lost many of their lives. Including his own when he was a a knight. (AH! GHOSTS!)

He climbs a mountain and ends up entering a cave for shelter. Its deeper than he thinks so he decides to explore and finds ancient cave drawings of a man on a cloud shaped like various dogs, bringing a storm to a dried out village. Saving them from starvation. It was a monument Gai's first life made to Kakashi as a farm boy. (I also like to think this is where he is offered immortality by a foe that does NOT have his best interests at heart.)

He travels through a forest and gets hopelessly lost. Only to run into a mysterious person with brown hair who's first words to him are "its good to see you again. I hope you're doing well." And after maybe playing a song together, its suddenly very easy to find his way out of the forest. Almost like a path was made for him. It almost made Gai want to talk more to the man but he disappears before he can talk to him again. He hadn't played a song for Yamato since his Rogue lifetime. (Though he might now freak out because- AH!!! MORE GHOSTS XD).

I always see the journey ending with his back to a willow tree, staring off into a lake as his turtle companion goes off to meet with other turtles. And him just undoing his hair and finally feeling... home.

Do you think he'd die after that, or before any of that?

The river! The river is his home!

Because the river was where it all connected. Created from his first expression of love to Kakashi, and forever surrounding the village he loved so much.

Where his godly daughter cares for the willow tree her dad grew so her Papa and his wife could have shade. Where she kneels down and pets Ningame, invisible to Gai because she can’t risk feeling her heart break again (until maybe Obito calls to her because she keeps splashing him like a bratty little niece)

Gai had already found his way into the village and felt more at home than anywhere else, but there was still something missing until he reached the river.

A piece of his heart he had yet to recover.

He also gets to see the grave under a second willow tree Kakashi grew for Nakano, where her first brother (and Gai’s mortal son with the queen) was laid to rest. He should have technically been laid to rest within the village, but he wanted so much to stay near his sister forever, and when the village went to bury him they found a second willow tree had grown over night, giving them the perfect spot to lay their king.

Oh and Yamato plYing music with Rogue Gai 😭😭😭 him talking to Gai as if he knows him, because he dies but Gai doesn’t remember him at all.

Kakashi being there when they reach the battle field and having to stop because that’s a place he cannot venture. The memories are too harsh. Too violent, and he has already buried a rich asshole in a pond for sentencing so many to death over his greed.

So obito has to go in because Gai freezes. He can feel the death the surrounds the place and it hits deep. Digs into his heart and makes it impossible for him to move until Obito grabs his arm and guides him awah.

Also, Ningame being very friendly and close to Kakashi because animals always recognize the god that created them

#GOS AU #God of storms au #Kakagai

[rey-sterling]

People I want to get to know better

I still think this might be a glitch in the matrix but thanks for the tag @kk1smet 🫣🫣 I adore ur art so I’m currently 🫠

Last song : What’s the time where you are by Troye Sivan (absolutely love his new album gosh)

Fav Colour: pink and green hehe

Last film/show: Queen Charlotte (I have not cried so much in a while definitely recommend it )

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy: I can’t decide 😭😭😭 but I do have a love for sweet and spicy food more I think?

Relationship status: single

Last thing I googled: King Minos because I was looking into the Ancient Greek myth about the labyrinth built by Daedalus and I was lost on the king’s name XD

Current obsession: Butterflies 🦋. I am terrified of the actual things but all things butterfly I adore they are so pretty. Oh and the fic Lily’s Boy on ao3 by Somewheresword it’s 🫶🫶🫶

Last Book: Currently reading The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro I can’t remember the one before that T-T

Looking forward to: well I’m trying to get into medschool so that! and seeing all my friends again it’s been a bit. hopefully even finishing my own fic one of these days XD

Well that’s everything! This is so fun to do anyone who sees this feel free to join in! I love getting to know people 🤭 And I’m gonna sneak in @meemoop if you would like to as well! You seem very well read so it’d be fun to know you (only if you want of course)

#get to know me #silly facts #tag game