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phfenomena · 4 months

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❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader

| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻

| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)

the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.

he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.

he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.

she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.

“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.

she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.

“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.

“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.

“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”

the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.

that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.

“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.

she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.

as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.

the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.

after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.

the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.

coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.

“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.

coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.

“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.

“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”

she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?

“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.

she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.

“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”

he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.

the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.

as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.

coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.

“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.

their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.

she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.

her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.

festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.

she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.

“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.

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choccyhearts · 1 year

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(18+!!)

this warm weather's really getting to my head...

so just imagine, it's a nice warm day, bordering on hot

and so you decide to wear short shorts that hug each curve and lump perfectly, and a cute crop top that frames your boobs nicely

and you meet the gang for a little picnic get together, which includes eddie and steve in attendance

and while you're having fun and enjoying the tasty dishes your friends have made, poooor eddie and steve can't stop admiring your body

the way your boobs bounce and jiggle each time you laugh at one of robin's quips, the way your butt presses against your heels as you sit up in excitement as nancy tells you about a groundbreaking story she's working on, the way your lips wrap around the straw of your lemonade, the sinful way you lick your fingers after eating a piece of fresh, juicy fruit

they're both going insane

they give each other a look that, although they've never shared it before, they both understand what the other means

what the other needs

they excuse themselves to go to the bathroom, nobody paying any attention as you've proposed a game of badminton

despite the disgusting nature of a park bathroom, neither man really care to notice as they each race into a stall

the sound of zippers unzipping and the jingling of belts and buttons echoes in the empty room

in unison, they pull down their pants and underwear, eddie hissing at the cold air now touching his most private area and steve groaning at the glorious feeling of freedom

they both grasp their dicks and begin stroking, each of them softly whining and humming every once in a while

if one were to walk by, they'd mistake it for singing

steve opens his hand with his dick sitting in the middle of his palm and spits

eddie strokes his precum all down his length

"ohhhhh, jesus christ", eddie breathes

"i know...holy shit", steve replies

"wanna know somethin?" steve grunts in response "this isn't the first time i've done something like this over her"

"ohhhh, i definitely have before", steve chuckles

both of them speed up their movements, private exclamations of curse words and your name leave their lips

"fuck...im so fucking close....how the hell does she have this much power?"

"mmmm, i have no idea...but if this what she does without knowing...ffuuck...imagine what she's like trying to get us off intentionally", steve whispers

eddie chuckles, imagining you in the stall with him, showing him anything he needs to make him cum

steve imagines your hand in place of his as he holds you up against him so you don't have to touch the disgusting floor or stall

in sync, they both prop their arms against a stall wall, heaving with clenched shut eyes

"oh christ, im bout to-"

"oh im right there too"

they both moan as they feel their climaxes

eddie can't open his eyes, too far gone in bliss. his tongue sticks out a bit as he milks his cock for all that it's worth, hearing his seed spill into the toilet water below with little splashes. he feels his balls sway with each tug he gives and he can only dream of how they'd feel slamming against your ass

steve tosses his head back, mouth open. he can't be bothered checking if his aim is right because he could care less about painting the toilet prettily. he'd rather be painting you with his cum. he fucks his hand with his dick, imagining his hips bouncing against yours as he buries himself as deep as he can go inside you

both men give a few shakes of their dicks before flushing the toilets (although steve attempts to wipe his cum off of the seat with the cheap toilet paper before giving up)

they redress themselves and exit their stalls, avoiding eye contact with one another when they wash their hands

as they walk back over to their friends, you turn and wave at them

"geez, what took you so long? i thought one of you might've fallen in", you giggle

"ugh, it was the cheese we got, wasn't it?", robin groans. "ya know, for a guy who's lived a more luxurious life than the rest of us, it's embarrassing you can't handle fancy cheese, dingus..."

nancy rolls her eyes as she sets up to serve the shuttlecock again

you turn away from the guys, completely unaware it was you who had done them in...

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #st4 #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut

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errorscriber · 8 months

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there's been a lot of talks about shidou's safety in regards to amane now that Purge March has dropped, I would like to give some people peace of mind about amane's threat to shidou. there have been lore drops here and there that implies he'll be fine

21/03/22 (Kazui’s First Trial)

Shidou: Mukuhara-san, you’ve not been looking great ever since you came back.

Kazui: Ahh…… yeah, I still haven’t got back to my usual self huh. Y’know, Shidou-kun…… kids can be really brutal huh. I don’t have any of my own so hadn’t realised until now.

Shidou: Haha, so they are. They won’t listen to the excuses adults make to explain themselves. ……though that’s also what makes them cute.

Kazui: Yeah… You’re really mature, Shidou-kun. By comparison, I’m really immature huh. Not growing up in any way other than my age. ……*sigh* Even I’m starting to hate that about myself.

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately.

Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday. I’m just getting a bit sentimental.

Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best.

Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

22/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday)

Amane: ……Kirisaki Shidou. How long do you plan on continuing this foolish behaviour?

Shidou: I wonder what you might be referring to there. I’m just doing what I need to do. If anything, I’d be happy if you would lend me a hand.

Amane: I warned you. I can no longer turn a blind eye to this wickedness taking place right in front of us. You’re bringing ruin unto yourself. Do you understand?

Shidou: No, I don’t understand. It’s my job as an adult to teach you that throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to make everything go your way. If it’s a test of endurance you want, I’m happy to oblige, Amane.

i know prison isn't really comparable to a hospital, but shidou is a doctor. he's probably met folks who are averse towards medical treatments. we have to also remember he's canonically a father as well. the patience in this man knows no bounds! shidou is the person who knows best that children can get volatile if they go through their word and actually initiate in their tantrums.

in the second trial we've clearly seen him be more proactive and more motivated to interact and help other people in the prison. to me, these conversations shidou has had implies that he'll find a way or be able to defend himself is amane were to do something to him.

maybe let's say, i am grasping for straws here and maybe shidou is gonna be in ruins but for now i want to have faith in that guy. he's tried to be gentle and passive around amane at first from the very beginning, now he knows that type of approach doesn't work. i surely hope he's prepared and i think from these conversations, shidou himself is trying to prepare for what is about to come.

i do want to take amane seriously and respect her wishes not to downplay her as a child but im not gonna try and give her too much power, i don't think she's a Big and Major Threat we should all worry about. i know there are so many variables we have to consider in the second trial towards what to vote. regardless of what you want to vote her this trial, i think our first trial verdict has already locked her thoughts into place anyway.

22/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday)

Futa: ……! O-oh, it’s just you. It’s nothing. ……but well, on that note. Hey. Don’t you have anything happening too? Since being in here, just suddenly getting anxious. Feeling as though loads of people are all there condemning you, telling you you were wrong.

Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either…… ……today is your birthday, correct? I’ll pray for God to keep you under his care.

this is my first time doing a post like this so im sorry if there are any misunderstandings i have regarding these conversations. i do hope that maybe you can find some faith that shidou will turn out fine in some way. he's going to beef with a 12 year old. he should start thinking about what to do.

#amane momose #shidou kirisaki #milgram #milgram theory #milgram analysis #> yuuyuus rambles <#yuugram log

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paranormeow7 · 1 year

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this post is late and idk if the hypes died down but i have THOUGHTS on catalyst (SPOILERS AHEAD)

okay alright we'll go scene by scene here sorry if any of these have been debunked or anything THIS IS GONNA BE SUCH INCOMPREHENSIBLE WORD VOMIT SORRY

who was watching that tv and where. i mean im pretty sure it was in mandela or maybe werksha. did they lift the television and mirror destruction act?? and that blank face that showed up. was that six?? also, SAINT GABRIELS CHURCH. OH MY GOD. apparentely no one goes anymore (most likely due to religion being shown to lead to MAD), which makes me wonder why dave even believed "o'brien" when he said he'd had a job there, if the place was pretty much abandoned anyways.

okay next up the hospital scene. oh my godddd. i think maybe the whereabouts of daves eyes will be important later, since they went out of their way to report that they couldnt recover them. and his brain?? can alts like, liquefy your brain now???? what the fuck happened????? maybe we'll get to see. also these nurses. they could be important, maybe, maybe not. also, we also now know that most of mandela's population have migrated to werksha (depsite there also being alt activity there i think), which i believe will be the county we'll be getting to see next.

chat logs with sarah and evelin my favorite girlbosses!!! apparently adam hasn't been talking to anyone for a while (most likely because of the Horrors, maybe since his talk with six) and eve is worried. she already seemed pretty sus about him in vol4, asking him to talk to her, which as far as i know he never did, and especially after she found his TSA results. based on whether or not you think she died in the MCPD station that day, these logs can either take place before or after she paid her visit. Sarah doesn't seem to think anything is wrong, despite it being implied that she hasn't been able to reach him either. either she's lying for whatever reason or she genuinely doesn't really know what's been going on with him. what is her MOTIVE??

TEASER SCENE. this could take place either before or after vol4, but i also believe this could be the "fight" eve was talking about in Jonah's memorial video, where he said some "terrible, awful" things that she "wished he had never told her". she may be afflicted with MAD. it seems that she visited his house at some point and met Preacher ("ADAM WHO IS THAT??"), who may have been using his voice to lure her in. There's been a fuck ton of theories on Preacher and it's connection to Adam, with some people saying it's his overdriven form. Idk how that could work seeing as they seem to be seperate entities, but WHO KNOWS??

WAKE UP THATCHER, I AM YOUR INTUITION. this is the same red text associated with Gabriel, who in vol 4 shared his intentions to kill Thatcher. Was getting him to follow the screams he heard (idk how since he seems to live decently far off from the BPS house) Gabriel's way of attempting to do that?? Also, the return of Gabe telling people to "wake up." Why the hell would Thatcher follow this voice?? just to get away from the alts in his home, or to try and get back a semblance of his old life as a respected lieutenant? Or as some kind of suicide mission, perhaps. (OUGH.)

the next scene. OH DEAR GOD THE NEXT SCENE. ARGHSFHJFS (GOES FERAL). strap in this'll be a long one. This is where Thatcher goes to the house. I noticed how the radio got more and more fucked up the closer he got before it just stopped working, which could be due to alt activity, or i could just be grasping at straws here. He notices the BPS van, which, why would that just be sitting outside the house in plain sight if the BPS are literally wanted by the FBI??? This could be the house they all lived in, or just Adam's house, but when he goes inside it is TRASHED. there is shit just strewn around EVERYWHERE and i may be misremembering but i think thatch steps on broken glass?? anyways he makes his way into the bedroom (which looks to be the same room Eve met Preacher in) and sees Adam sitting beside the bed in a pile of trash (INCLUDING AN EMPTY BOTTLE OF BLEACH that he DRANK, meaning the rest of the trash might be remnants of other attempts), next to a mirror (with a very fucked up reflection, i might add), looking catatonic. This is the guy he's been hunting down for stealing government property and fucking with alternates and BOY has he seen better days.

There is a tape playing called "the fate of the jester", pretty much describing his situation to a T. It describes the loss of humanity to becoming "just a cog in the machine", and no longer being "the hero of the story". Theres a LOT of different interpretations for this, such as him "waking up" and losing himself to his alternate nature, although he's obviously trying to fight it. Throughout the series he was brought up as a very important character, as a tie between the humans and the alternates, even possibly being the "mandela prophet" described at the end of vol4. If he was being set up as such an important character, this may signify the loss of the Mandela's last hope (maybe, idk lol). There's a lot of moments to fall back on in this scene, such as in vol2 when Gabe told him to "wake up" and "don't make me wake the others" (the other kidnapped children turned alternate sleeper agents i believe), the memorial video in vol4 where he screams for something to "please just get the fuck out of my head", the death of his mother in intruder alert, and his talk with Six, which may have been the start of his spiral, and when he began to isolate himself. Anyways, SUSPECT IDENTIFIED there's your FBI wanted tortured blonde man!!

SCREAMING. THE MOST HORRIFIC TORTURED SCREAMING YOUVE EVER HEARD. JUST SO MUCH SCREAMING. Adam still seems pretty much paralyzed though, which could be from a number of things, maybe all the shit he just did to himself, maybe the FUCKING BLEACH?? idk. his eyes also seemed to have turned black (possibly signifying the beginning of overdriven assimilation)?? im still wondering why Gabriel sent Thatcher here, seeing as i dont think he died, like Gabe said he would to Dave. Did he want Adam or possibly Preacher to kill him? Adam can barely even MOVE, let alone kill anyone. Maybe he wanted him to try and kill himself, at the sight of yet another person he couldn’t save (AGAIN, OUGH.) Adam stops screaming for a little bit to BEG FOR SOMEONE TO KILL HIM before going straight back to screaming, which then dies down into tortured sobs (someone save him…). This was confirmed in a patreon discord server I believe. My opinion is that this is a sign that he doesn’t want any of this and that he never had any bad intentions (or at least didn’t have TOO many bad intentions). IDKKKK ive been rambling way too much- AGHHH IM JUST SO INSANE ABT THIS EPISODE IDK HOW TO END THIS LONG ASS POST THANKS FOR READING BYEEE

#actual sugar post #long post #the Mandela catalogue #izzy.txt #tmc #Mandela catalyst #blabbering #theories and headcanons #theory post #the Mandela catalogue theory #tmc theory #tmc theories #idk #theories #theory #analog horror

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setsugekka · 10 months

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(before i even started the chapter there was a reblog on it that made my jaw drop to the floor i wish i could elaborate on it)

I think i have a better idea of yeosangs way of thinking with this whole baby thing: as seonghwa mentioned that may be the only way he can keep the mc with him and theoretically a child between two ppl can tie them together for life. Im still bothered by this bc instead of just trying to meet your wife in the middle with something as comparatively small to having a baby (literally just being home more), he’d rather take a more complicated route that can definitely make things more difficult in the relationship and will just make the problem they already have with him being around more even worse. it still doesnt make it right on his end but i think i understand a bit better

you’ve already given us an idea to how things can turn out in the story so i’m trying to hold off on any extreme opinions like “mc just leave and go to hongjoong” its more of a test for myself really to expand my thinking bc im guilty of doing this with a lot of things that i read

“..it would be such a help if you could let me use you.”

hongjoong, you skipped several steps in this interaction 🤨

“Husband going to be upset?”

he moves fast i see 🔫

“Hongjoong, a problem. It seems so far from the realm of possibility given what you know about the guy.”

girl he was just feeling you up 🤨

with mc and yunho’s conversation i feel like theres an important detail i might have to come back to later bc i’m always missing shit so im gonna keep it in the back of my mind as i read from now on (im watching you melty) (im halfway drunk as i write this so i apologize if anything i wrote is confusing)

i think i know which reblog you're referring to, i felt much of the same! i love the theorizing a bunch, it makes me giddy 🤭

onto the fun!

I think i have a better idea of yeosangs way of thinking with this whole baby thing [...]

your take on this is an incredibly reasonable and thoughtful one tbh. it's understandable why he might feel this way, why he might think this to be his best option at holding onto something that he might feel is crumbling and slipping away from him in a way? like you said, not a good way to go about it and there are certainly better ways to do so, but sometimes people latch onto stuff like that even if it isn't necessarily the best way. he does love her, he does want to stay in this marriage and make it work, and perhaps this is just his way of grasping at the straws in an attempt to do just that.

does that make it good or right? no. but it does make him human.

you’ve already given us an idea to how things can turn out in the story so i’m trying to hold off on any extreme opinions like “mc just leave and go to hongjoong” [...]

of course 🤠 i think one of the fun things about a story like this is seeing peoples different takes on what she should do. i've seen a whole slew of opinions on what she should do already ranging from "don't do it" still to "BANG THE AKADEMIYA STUDENT" and i think that's what makes writing stuff like this so enjoyable for me hehehe.

will she leave and go to hongjoong? will she stay with her husband and just fuck around on the side? will she do so and get away with it? will yeosang find out? will he leave or stay depending on that? many questions...

hongjoong, you skipped several steps in this interaction 🤨

this response has me in tears.

girl he was just feeling you up 🤨

THIS ONE HAS ME EVEN MORE IN TEARS DJKGHDFJK.

ERM!? I REALLY WANT TO KNOW THOUGH???? you can't withhold speculations from me it's illegal according to melty law...

oh one more thing! i love how hongjoong and mc aren’t playing dumb to what’s happening between them and addressing things head on. i’ve never seen that in a story before and it makes more interesting imo (and you wrote him so sexy melty why 😖)

yeah, they're relatively self-aware. i mean, there is of course an element of cat and mouse to their interactions that makes for an even more enticing element, but she is very much understanding of the fact that she shouldn't be entertaining any of this even half as much as she has been already...but the carnal wanting makes people do wild things, and she's lonely and angry and wanting for a man to desire her in some way beyond her ability to foster children.

as always i cannot say much for the future, but what i can say is...things are only going to be ramping up to 1000 past this point, i'll tell you what. certain men might be getting even bolder in the very immediate future 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑

#☕️ ask #fic: atarashii

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sugiwa · 10 months

Note

IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FROM THIS NEW CHAPTER

everything i could have possibly wanted was here:

penny leveling up, showing her against tashigi and smoker and then immediately after showing her against garp and sengoku INSANE SUGIWA INSANE, her skipping over garp because she’s sentimental <3 and (maybe) she doesn’t want to taint the memory of playful innocence with garp and luffy, mentioning roci, HER LAUGHING, (“Of course, I’m a Bard. I’ve always been one!”), the named attacks!!

“But she also knew something that Shanks often struggled with. They were in the midst of becoming legends too.” SCREAMS

the thought of reading everyone’s reactions to the events of this chapter I CANT WAIT

buggy is tagged in the story but he’s the only character w haven’t had an encounter with yet, is he going to play a major part in penny’s story?

also, we see penny grasp her conquerors but is her devil fruit still unawakened?

is this the point where penny makes a name for herself independent from Shanks? will she now be Bard Penny and no long Akahime?

okay i’ve talked enough. thank you for the new chapter, it’s amazing and i’m so excited to see what this means for penny going forward.

Okay, I'm going to put this under a read-more tab cause my reply is very long!

Hahaha, I contemplated making Penny depressed for a bit and went back and forth here, but I was like, nah, Penny's going to have the time of her life after this. The Navy's going to try and drag her down, but she's going to hold steady. I'm excited for the next chapter cause we have some pretty shocking events. We do see Penny begin to voice some of her grief, but there's a bigger break coming that allows the Straw Hats to step in and that'll be fun.

I think no matter how hard she tries to be otherwise, Penny very very much is the sentimental type and sometimes that sentiment gets in the way of common sense (but also if she attacked Garp, she might've been in Impel Down right now). Sengoku was 100% not expecting to hear Rocinante's name and Penny took a huge gamble with it, which we've seen her do before and kinda shock people with their own past. It's going to be fun to see the moment where that completely and utterly works against her 😂😂

Named attacks--so far, we've gotten one, which was the one she used against Big Mom and we'll come back to that one much later cause I didn't actually show you guys what it does.

Buggy and Penny will meet and it'll go down about as well as you can imagine. Penny has a very loving view of what she considers Shanks' best friend and Buggy just is not fucking expecting it. He's going to play his own part and we'll see more of him than you expect especially in the time skip 👀

So, I'd say Penny's strength with Haki lies primarily in Conqueror's, though she knows the other forms too, she doesn't really have to use it a lot especially in Paradise. She's slowly building herself back up to full strength, which will be needed as we get closer to Sabaody and Ace's execution. If she had remained on Marineford for much longer, she would've 100% fallen to Sengoku and Garp which is why she made a quick and necessary escape after a flashy show of power 😂

As for her Devil Fruit, it's not awakened. And we're going to see that there's moments when Penny kinda contradicts herself about it. She's actually the one who named it the Kopi Kopi no Mi because that was the easiest frame of reference she had as a kid for what it did. And as we know from the first chapter, it's not actually named in the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, but as Doffy revealed, it's a fruit that the world government is very interested. And this comes to down to a theme that we've seen crop up in One Piece time and time again which is: scarcity of resources. We've seen wars because of it, the Celestial Dragon's greed and most recently their panic over the lost food stores. And Penny's fruit kinda solves all that with a touch of a hand.

As for the name Bard Penny--I still have a big reveal planned. I don't think Sengoku or the Navy necessarily want this spilling out right after she's attacked them, but they won't tie her to Shanks anymore, because this has now officially gone beyond him. We won't see the Akahime title nor her other one used past this point.

Thank you so so much for reading and dropping in my inbox!!

#ask #hyunchroma-3 #one piece #CH

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barbiebatarangs · 3 years

Text

ASTRONOMY

damian x reader with crush culture or astronomy idk im sorry 🤭

don’t apologize! also it took me wayyy too long to even write a line so if it’s bad spare my feelings!

‘ we've seen everything from saturn to mars ’

“ you can’t be serious, “ damian says, running a hand through his dark hair and staring hopelessly at your eyes. he already knows.

this conversation isn’t a surprise, this has been a long time coming, and the both of you know it. sometimes love fades, it doesn’t need a reason to, you often don’t even know how or why. it just does.

they don’t tell you that in fairytales. cinderella never fell out of love with her prince charming. they never had to work so hard at their relationship it felt like a chore.

“ damian we’re delaying the inevitable! “ you yell, throwing your hands into the tense air of his bedroom. tears prick your eyes but you know they won’t fall, the tears you’ve shed for your relationship could fill a river by now.

you simply have none left.

and neither does he.

“ we can work on this! “ he’s said this before.

‘ you're pointing at stars in the sky that already died ‘

you’ve been here before.

you know how this ends.

and god did you wish it didn’t have to.

“ for how much longer damian? we’ve been working on this! for months! “ walking towards him you grab his wrist - stopping the pacing because you know if he keeps moving, his mind won’t be able to slow and he’ll do something irrational.

he turns on his heels, “ as long as it takes! “

you shake your head, “ no damian. we barely know eachother anymore! god, i thought if i moved back to gotham we could work things out! i thought- i thought maybe being here would make me love you again but it’s not! because it has nothing to do with the distance and everything to do with us! damian i don’t love you. “ you inhale, “ and you don’t love me. “

“ you don’t know what you’re saying! i’ve loved you for years! “ the green is lying and you know he can see it too. he can feel it by the way the words drench his bones like motor oil seeped in the deception of a mother’s lies that at a certain point he started to believe.

‘stop trying to keep us alive ‘

“ damian we were thirteen! and yes i am one hundred percent sure i loved you but honestly, at this point damian we are grasping at straws! “ you want to sob but you can’t right now because if you don’t do this neither of you will and it has to be done, “ we loved eachother. we did and i know that. but i went off to college and you took over your dad’s company. and what we had - that love we had - it couldn’t survive. because we had fallen in love with who we were - not who we are. you’re trying to salvage a relationship that has been over for months. “

“ i can’t let you go … “

“ darling, you already have. “

‘ you can't force the stars to align when they've already died ‘

#submission #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #gender neutral pronouns

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Online dating

darcy lewis x reader / masterlist

summary; darcy decides to try a dating app, least to say, the guy isn’t anything like his picture. and thus she ditches him, and finds someone else in a hot second / warnings; the oc guys in this fic are dicks, homophobia, darcy being bae, swearing, mentions of sex and cheating, mentions of joy x reader.

he was a polar opposite to what he had portrayed his online self to be, screw the internet! this date was truly tragic, darcy had plenty of things that she could be better using her time for, rather than sitting opposite this oaf, that was licking his unappealing lips, and staring at the waitress when he thought that she didn’t notice.

“huh?” the scientific doctor pulled her phone out, ushering a puzzled expression on her face as she stared at the blank screen. she of course recognised that no one was making any attempts to contact her, but he didn’t know that. “one second.” she held her finger up, bringing the phone to her ear as she blabbered into the speaker that was inherently catching nothing that she was saying.

“slow down jane.” darcy falsely ushered, using her hands to exaggerate the conversation in her head. she put the phone down, a facade of panic elaborating behind her spectacle adorned eyes as she grabbed her belongings in a frenzy, standing upright and out of her seat. “im so sorry, my friend has just hit some guy with her car and she needs some moral support. tonight is going to have to be cut extremely short.”

short was a relief, but the hopeful expression on this dude’s face wasn’t. perhaps it was cruel to leave this guy hanging, and well, she couldn’t blame him for wanting more, she sent him an awkward smile as he began to speak. “we should do this again some time - properly.” darcy wasn’t dumb, she noticed how his eyes sped to the side as the curvy waitress walked by.

“sure...” no, definitely not. darcy was well aware that she was wasting her time with this moron, she didn’t need a man, let alone a dweeb of one. a quick wave was all she bade him as she exited the coffee shop, only to become engrossed in a scene erupting on the local streets. there was a woman, flinging shirts, and a bra within the bundle that looked as though it was not her size, what was she thinking, clearly it wasn’t, at said example of figurative masculinity.

“screw you durkus!” any guy named ‘durkus’ was basically a label confirming that he was a dick. “i don’t need you, nor the next man! i am a well established woman who has done more for this country than you could ever know, you’re dust beneath my feet, a pathetic layer of residue that i want nothing more to brush off.” perhaps she was being harsh, but it sounded like he deserved it.

from the red lipstick, that the woman was not at all sporting, from the random bra that she had flung at her partner, it was a safe bet to assume that he had cheated on her. darcy plodded closer, listening whimsically in, and realising that her life was pretty calm, there were no longer asguardians or dark elves infiltrating her life, nor the work that she had attained to field in.

she had only recently earned herself the title of doctor, and it was frustrating that people would assume that she opted for a profession in a hospital room, or they would forget the professional endorsement all together, and address her as ‘miss lewis’. she was no one’s puppet, she had scaled herself up the ladder of her career to be where she was now, but another thing that she was alongside such a wave of potential was a feminist.

this dick was shouting in the streets, calling her inexplicable names such as a ‘whore’, and a ‘two faced bitch’. having the ability to hear the insults brew anger in her stomach, she couldn’t just stand there. “what are you going to do, turn into a complete lesbian?” now that was the last straw, it had darcy marching over, and promptly she shoved the guy, making him drop all the items that were grasped in the basket of his arms.

a flabbergasted ‘huh’ was riveted from him, and it made darcy smirk as she attuned his attention towards her; the stranger that had gotten involved in his public display of disrespect and homophobia. “how about you watch your damned mouth before i make sure you can’t open it again. and whilst you’re at it, get some new shirts, you’re not a model, unless you’re the kind that are put on prison pamphlets.”

“who the fuck are you?” he spat his saliva on the ground by darcy’s feet, establishing her with the information that her first impression of this dick had been correct. women just knew with this kind of thing, they could sense trouble from a mile away. “you know what, keep that crazy bitch. maybe you can help her store her katanas, and go on double dates with danny rand and his plus one. rather you than me.”

“don’t ask.” the woman shook her head, tired of the drama that durkus always seemed to bring. she had enough trouble, involving work and extracurricular night time activities, without him adding to them. darcy presented her with a sweet smile, picking up the box of random bits and bobs that was on the floor. “that’s just work stuff, i’m moving offices and as i came to collect some things from our apartment, and i found him- well let’s just say he wasn’t alone.”

“that was pretty easy to pick up on. how’d you not realise that you were dating a total sleaze?” she was blunt with her enquiry, though the woman shrugged, a guilty expression cowering upon your features, like an ashamed shadow. a small, attractive smile graced her lips, secrets hidden beneath the span of the expression.

“oh, i knew. i just had to pretend to be happy, so that my ex, or well now, my other ex joy would stop chastising me, claiming that i haven’t got over her. she’s so up her own ass sometimes and it drives me- shit, i’m sorry, you don’t know me, nor do you need to hear about my problems.” the y/h/c haired woman shook her head, stretching her hand out to miss lewis. “i’m y/n, thanks a bunch for helping me out back there.”

darcy accepted her handshake, completing the action as she smiled. “i’m darcy.” this woman didn’t need to know about her doctor title, in fact, darcy was keen on knowing everything about her instead. “so’d how you meet him?” referring to the person that had most recently became y/n’s ex. y/n was relieved that darcy had shown up, she was sure she’d have used her martial art training for more than composition; she’d have kicked durkus’ flat ass.

“on a dating app.” it was a normal answer, she wouldn’t share the intel that before that she had saved his ass whilst wearing a black hood, stopping him from getting mugged in the dead of night. perhaps she should have saved someone else that particular late evening. darcy couldn’t help but let a small laugh out, finding both their circumstances quite amusing. she was sure a similar situation would have unfolded if she had decided to regularly see the date that she ditched.

“online dating man, it sucks, am i right?” it had quite the reputation, for the two of them especially. “maybe we should just date each other.” she joked, though she was being partially serious. it felt right, they had bumped randomly into one another’s faulted situations on the same day, it almost felt like fate, though that subject was too cheesy to say aloud.

“well doctor lewis, i would not at all mind going on a date with you.” darcy frowned at the title that she had been called, pointing at the side of the woman’s jacket, that had a recyclable label stuck upon the material. “so you majored in science, if i am correct?” finally, someone got it! she could get used to that.

y/n did not appear as a deity nor a creature from another realm, she was normal. or so as far as the eye could tell, in fact, she did not suspect a thing from this woman, much less to be a defender of the earth that worked in a small and less know league than the avengers, yet still roamed the us to protect its people.

darcy though had won this battle for her though, giving her a moment of peace from fighting, and had idly sent durkus on his route far away. y/n could get used to not being the hero all the time, more so if this doctor was her knight in shining armour.

#darcy lewis x reader #darcy lewis imagine #darcy lewis fanfiction #Darcy lewis oneshot #kat dennings x reader #Darcy x reader #Darcy imagine #thor x reader #marvel women x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader #marvel x reader #Darcy lewis ff #darcy lewis x you #darcy lewis

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writingxfootballl · 3 years

Text

know that it’s you (g.w.)

(ginny weasley x reader)

it only took seven years for you to get your happy ending.

warnings: mentions of death, light cursing, men, sarcasm, and no capitalization

word count: ~2.5k

a/n: first hp fic! hope i did okay- i tried my best to capture ginny’s character but it’s not perfect <3

format inspired by @ravenclawwriting ‘s masterpiece- “turning time”

title- hold on, flor

——

first year

the aura of confidence she gives off smacks you straight in the face when she passes by you on the platform.

not that you needed any help noticing her.

her flowing red hair caught your eye almost immediately.

oh how you wished to be her friend.

“gryffindor!”

you let out a sigh of relief.

slowly you pick yourself up and walk to the table, where the pretty red headed girl is sitting.

she looks up and smiles at you, gesturing for you to take a seat next to her.

when you do, she sticks out her hand and introduces herself.

“ginny weasley.”

taking her hand, you do the same.

“y/n y/ln.”

when ginny goes missing later that year, you blame yourself.

you should’ve noticed that she was getting quieter and quieter.

you should’ve noticed that she would be gone for hours.

you should’ve noticed.

when she disappears for a few days, she takes your heart with her.

so when harry fucking potter swoops in and saves her, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and it feels like your heart can finally beat normally again.

second year

now that you got her back, you were inseparable.

screw fred and george, you were the new duo at hogwarts.

just kidding, no one could beat the iconic mischief seeking twins, but you sure gave professors a run for their money.

the red headed girl always seemed to have something up her sleeve, and no matter good or bad, you followed her.

that summer, you’re invited to the burrow for the first time.

the two of you share a room, and what started out as separate beds and shy company slowly turned into fleeting glances and lingering touches.

hand holding, cheek kisses and cuddling, all the “platonic” displays of affection.

and then, ginny invites you to the quidditch world cup.

you’ve never been a quidditch fan, but you’d go a thousand times over if she asked you.

really, you’d do a lot of things if she asked you.

third year

you can see her concern for harry when he gets drawn for the triwizard tournament.

it makes you want to rip his head off.

and then, slowly, you begin to notice it all.

how when you were constantly staring at ginny, her eyes followed a certain boy’s every move.

how she’s a flushed, nervous, bumbling wreck around him, so different from the confident and assured girl you knew.

it makes you want to rip his head off even more.

but you don’t know why.

harry’s always been a nice guy.

arrogant, sure, but a nice guy, certainly someone you shouldn’t hate.

so you ask hermione.

the golden girl just laughs when you tell her.

“oh, my dear y/n, you’re just jealous.”

now you’re even more confused.

“jealous? why would i be jealous?”

hermione chuckles a little bit and looks up from her book.

“you fancy her y/n.”

you scoff a little at that.

“me? fancying ginny? no way!”

hermione rolls her eyes and motions for you to leave her to her studying, before mumbling quietly:

“no wonder you were sorted into gryffindor and not ravenclaw.”

you’re determined to somehow prove hermione wrong.

so when seamus asks you to the ball, you consider accepting.

but then you think about ginny.

your sweet, beautiful ginny.

you tell him you’ll get back to him, before running across the school to the courtyard, where you know she’s at.

your question somehow makes it through the panted breaths and heaves.

“would you like to go to the yule ball with me?”

ginny’s face splits into a grin.

“i would love to.”

when you see ginny at the ball, you have to remember how to breathe.

“you look stunning.”

ginny blushes a little at your compliment.

“so do you.”

your heart races in your chest at her words.

you clear your throat at the silence that follows and-

“so, shall we dance?”

you smile and nod graciously, taking her hand and following.

with one of her hands on your waist and the other tightly clasped in yours, hermione’s words flash in your mind.

“you fancy her y/n.”

your eyes meet and you can’t believe you’ve never taken the time to admire how much of a golden honey color they are.

but then.

of course.

“hey um- could i speak to you ginny?”

dean fucking thomas.

ginny lets go of you almost immediately.

she glances at you apologetically, and despite the nagging ache in your chest, you nod and let her go.

after she leaves with him, the rest of the ball passes in a blur, where you can’t focus on anything else except the tenuous strain of your heart.

maybe hermione was right after all.

fourth year

turns out hermione was right.

so very very right.

ginny had you wrapped around her finger.

and for the most part, this year wasn’t bad.

with the exception of dean of course.

when he comes into the picture, it shatters you.

but she couldn’t know that.

so you listened to her talk about him, biting back the i could treat you better from the tip of your tongue.

despite the fact that ginny has a boyfriend, the two of you grow closer.

you’re both members of the DA, helping each other with spells and practicing in your free time.

“ugh gin it’s not working-“

ginny rolls her eyes at you.

“it’s not that hard y/nn, do you want to watch me do it again?”

you nod enthusiastically and ginny giggles a little.

“alright move aside then.”

you move and watch from the side, somehow ending up eyeing along her side profile rather than watching her hex.

eyebrows furrowed, lip bitten in concentration-

dear godric she’s so pretty-

“y/n are you even watching?!”

you shake your head and blush before stuttering out:

“u-uh, s-sorry could you d-do it again?”

ginny watches you with an amused smirk and takes a step in, closer to you.

“you’re kind of cute you know that?”

her finger tracing your jaw, she emphasizes the end of her sentence with a pop and a nose tap.

your mouth drops open, and all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks.

ginny steps away and seeing that you were still frozen there, turns back and teases:

“aw come on y/n, the bat bogey hex isn’t going to learn itself now is it?”

merlin, this girl was going to be the death of you.

when ginny tells you she broke up with dean, you want to go out and scream in happiness.

but instead, you stay put and say, “aw gin im so sorry, i’ll be here if you need me.”

you’re woken up later that night when ginny crawls into bed with you.

with her face buried in your neck and her hands wrapped loosely around your waist, you can’t help the smile teasing the corners of your lips.

it’s everything you’ve ever asked for.

fifth year

then, fifth year happens.

you could see harry and ginny growing closer and closer, and it felt like she was leaving you behind.

your weekly hogsmeade trips slowly became less and less intimate, as the golden trio began joining the two of you.

a butterbeer was poked at mindlessly with a straw by you at the three broomsticks, all while listening to ginny chat with harry, and ron chat with hermione.

it doesn’t surprise you when ginny and harry disappear together after a little while.

it doesn’t surprise you when ginny starts spending less time in your room, and more time in his.

it doesn’t surprise you when you spot ginny with her head on his shoulder one day.

it doesn’t surprise you, but it still stings.

it stings a lot.

sixth year

the golden trio is gone for almost the entirety of this year.

before they leave, harry breaks up with ginny, and she doesn’t react really.

she accepts it.

but you’re there for her even if she says she’s fine and she doesn’t need it.

then one day, she needs it.

you walk into your room to see her sitting on her bed.

it takes you a second to realize she’s crying.

you’re by her side immediately.

“oh gin- what’s wrong?”

she doesn’t say anything, just turning to you and without a word, you wrap your arms around her.

and you stay like that for a while.

when she goes quiet, you whisper out:

“gin?”

and then you realize she’s fallen asleep.

you try to bite back your poorly contained smile, gently guiding the girl off your shoulder and onto your lap.

you softly tuck a loose, fiery red strand behind her ear, a blush lightly tinting your cheeks when she exhales softly in her sleep.

merlin, i love you.

your cheeks flush even more when she grasps the front of your robes, pulling herself even closer to you.

with your heart hammering in your chest, it’s a wonder ginny hasn’t woken up yet.

you pull out your transfiguration textbook quietly, and try your best to focus on the page, rather than the girl laying there on your lap.

it doesn’t work.

but for once, all is well.

eventually, you get absorbed into your studies, distracted enough to miss the girl on your lap beginning to stir.

your brows are furrowed as you scribble down the last words of your essay, and you bring your quill up to your lips before ginny’s hand gently pushes them away, startling you.

“don’t do that, you’ll stain your teeth.”

you blush sheepishly and drop your hand.

“you’re awake.”

ginny smiles.

“well i’m talking to you aren’t i?”

you grin softly.

“i suppose you are.”

ginny rolls her eyes and sighs, her brown eyes locking with yours immediately after.

her hand comes up to tuck a loosed strand of hair behind your ear and suddenly, the air seems to thicken.

for a moment, neither of you move, too caught up in each other’s eyes.

when ginny’s eyes drop down to your lips you can hear your breath catch in your throat.

you feel yourself being pulled in by some invisible force, your eyes dropping down-

then neville knocks on the door, and just like that, the spell is broken.

“y/n- oh hey ginny.”

ginny sits up and darts away from you so quickly you would’ve missed it if you blinked.

“what’s up nev?”

neville shuffles nervously.

“sorry for catching you at a bad time- um it’s just that professor mcgonagall wanted to see-.”

“all right i’ll be there in a minute.”

neville nods and then, it’s back to the two of you.

it’s quiet for a moment before you both speak.

“you should-“

“i really-“

both of you stop and flush a little before you continue.

“i really should go see what that was about.”

ginny nods and gestures for you to leave.

and you do, not before taking her hand and pulling her up into a tight hug.

“i’ll see you later?”

ginny nods.

“yeah. later.”

when the golden trio returns to hogwarts and all hell breaks loose, the two of you are separated.

in fact, you haven’t seen most of the weasleys since the war began.

you’re left alone with neville for the majority of the fight, and you spend most of it worrying about ginny.

one day when you’re just walking along the edge of the forbidden forest, you catch a glimpse of red hair on the opposite side of the field.

your breath catches in your throat.

as you get closer, you can tell who it is.

and then you start running.

your body almost collides with hers as you wrap your arms around her.

at first, there’s relief.

“you’re here you’re here you’re-“

ginny shushes you and pulls you in tighter, drawing out the sob you tried to hard to keep down.

then the relief turns to anger.

and frustration.

you pull away from the hug abruptly and ginny sends a confused look your way.

“ginevra molly weasley! if you ever, ever do that again i’ll-“

“aw, seems like someone missed me.”

you scoff.

“don’t joke! i thought you were killed- gin you have no idea i was so worried- worried about where you were, what you did-“

the rest of your confession is cut off when ginny grabs your tattered tie, pulls you in, and kisses you.

it’s quick.

lips unmoving, it’s really more of a peck than a kiss.

but it still hit you the same way.

ginny pulls back abruptly when you don’t react, but taking the smile that graced your lips as a good sign, leans back in.

this time, you’re ready for her.

your arms wrap around her neck, her’s falling to your waist, and finally, you’re content.

it’s soft and sweet and then there’s tongue and lips and teeth and you really can’t believe this is happening-

“hey y/n! quit snogging my sister!”

ron’s exclamation startles you.

you flush red, and break the kiss, trying to pull away from ginny out of embarrassment, but she keeps an arm firmly attached to your waist.

hermione grins next to ron.

“about time you two. about time.”

harry defeats he who must not voldemort in probably what is the most anticlimactic final battle ever.

but just like that,

the war’s over.

seventh year

propped against a tree, ginny runs a hand through your hair, the other tangled with yours in front of your chest.

“hey.”

ginny smiles softly down at you.

“hey to you too.”

“i love you.”

the red headed girl smiles and leans down to give you a soft kiss before replying.

“i love you too y/n.”

your smile is almost blinding, and out of pure happiness, you confess:

“i’ve loved you since third year gin, did you know that?”

the red headed girl almost looks surprised.

“i was gross third year.”

you scoff and mutter:

“you could never be gross.”

ginny just laughs and leans down again.

“i love you y/n. i really do. i’m sorry it took so long for me to realize.”

you look up at your girlfriend with pure adoration in your eyes.

with her lips on yours and fingers tangled together, it felt like the world was finally at peace again.

ginevra weasley was your happily ever after.

cheesy ending, but i loved writing this one.. i hope you guys like it too <3

#ginny weasley #ginny weasley x reader #ginny weasley imagine #ginny weasley x female reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #hp imagine #harry potter #hp series #ginevra molly weasley #ginny weasley x fem reader

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laffodil-daffodil · 3 years

Text

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The day was beatifull. The birds were singing happily, the peacefull sound of the water running from rivers near by. Everything seemed quiet, calm. Nothing could ruin the moment of peace the forest was having.

The peace, however, did not reach everything.

The sound of a door slamming closed interrupted the calm, the sudden and loud noise resonating trough the forest, cutting the quietness like a knife would do to butter.

Regulus ran out of the cabin door in a hurry, muttering scoldings to himself under his breath. Just this morning (when he was going to make himself some breakfast) he realized that he had no food left (it was obvious, he went hunting over a month ago, the fact that he was too lazy and too depressed were the things that kept him all day on his bed)

He decided to go to the nearest town, he had some money on him from when he helped an old couple out with their strawberry cultives (the couple then gave him a wood box full of strawberrys', which he ate almost inmediatly after he got home).

Regulus never went to towns or villages or cities anymore, faking your own dead didn't allowed you to go in public (being from The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black didn't help eithet). Besides, all that he needed he could find it in the woods.

Like in the books Sirius read to him when he was a kid, like a bedtime story, and he would wait patiently until Sirius tip-toed to his room as quietly as possible so he wouldn't wake up Walburga and then give her a reason to beat them up and-

He stopped himself from remembering more. He always stopped himself from remembering things from his past, from when the time things weren't perfect but they weren't hell either.

He hasn't heard of his parents for years now, and even more less from Sirius (being supposedly dead kept you from keeping track of things outside from your bubble). He just hoped Sirius was finally happy, maybe even be together with that best friend of his (Remus, was it? He couldn't remember quite well his name), he always saw how his brother looked at the other guy with eyes full of adoration, like if Remus had brought him all of the stars in the nightsky.

He hoped his parents were dead, too. They deserved it, after all the shit they made Sirius and him go trough, all of those nights awake hearing his brothers' screams, or the banging of the metal door they locked Sirius in.

And when Sirius left, when his brother was finally physically free from them (because no, Sirius would never be completly free from them, neither of them both would ever be) ,it all just got worse from there. For Regulus, that is. His skin got paler and his eyes got duller, but he felt relief. His brother (the only one he had, the one he held close to his heart, even after being ignored) was finally out of the house they called home.

Regulus noticed (since the day Sirius ran away from "home") that his skin got healthier and his eyes got brighter, unlike him.

Regulus felt relief that his brother was finally able to be freely happy, to be able to love whoever the fuck he wanted to love, to wear whatever he wanted to wear. He truly was.

But what about me, Regulus thought, as he entered the little magical village. I want my happy ending, too. He knew he shouldn't ask for more, he should be more gratefull that he finally, after so much fighting, was finally free from his parents' grasp.

So why wasn't he?

He said an apology under his breath to the old witch that bumped into him, and while she was yelling profanities at him while picking up her groceries, he continued to walk down the crowded street.

Regulus saw, from the corner of his eyes, an old looking bookstore. He walked towards it and pushed the glass door open, might as well buy some more books, no?

The little bell anounnced his entrance to the people inside the shopp, not that anyone cared about it.

Regulus made a bee-line towards the mitology section and picked up two books. One had a deep red cover, with bold golden letters as a tittle. The other had a black cover in its totallity, (also) with bold golden letters.

He made his way towards the front desk to pay for the books, when a wood table that had the newspaper got his attention.

He didn't exactly knew why did it catch his attention, he just knew that he just had to check it out (something in the deepest part of his heart told him to do so).

So he followed his instinct.

"MURDERER SIRIUS BLACK, ARRESTED FOUR YEARS AGO AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-TWO, WAS CAUGHT YESTERDAYS' NIGHT TRYING TO ESCAPE AZKABAN"

He what

Regulus lowered the paper a little and stared at it with incredulity. Sirius was arrested?

Sirius was arrested four years ago?

Regulus did the counts on his head. Four years ago he faked his death to be free, when he tought Sirius wasn't in fucking prison? What in the actual fuck?

He lifted the paper a little with shacky and malhourised hands, those hands that were once soft and didn't know hard work, now, those hands were covered in scars, all of them because of years in the woods, from cutting trees and building his small cabin and fighting wild animals to survive.

He did all of that to survive, all of this- he did it for himself.

He was enjoying freedom while his brother (the brother who neglected you after being choosen in a rival house, the brother who, in a far away past, held your hands on his own and looked at you in the eyes and told you everything was going to be alright) was in prison for murderer, something Regulus believed was false.

Sirius would never kill anyone, Regulus was sure of that.

But that didn't mattered, no. It didn't make any difference to Regulus. His brother ignoring him didn't changed anything, the younger still loved him with all his heart, with all that he had.

His silver eyes looked at the newspaper again, a burning fire making its way into his heart.

"Sirius Black is responsable of the death of a wizard, Petter Pettigrew and thirtheen muggles"

Okay, now Regulus was one-hundred percent sure that his brother had been framed. Regulus knew his brother would never kill muggles, besides, wasn't Petter Pettigrew one of his closest friends?

He continued reading, he needed as much information as he could find. He reached the end of the paragraph, and one or two drops of sweat appeared in his temple.

"-Black is now behind the bars again, the security involving him has increased and is now stronger than ever."

Okay, Regulus wasn't freaking out at all, why would he? The fact that his brother is in fucking Azkaban doesn't inmediatly means he will freak out, nu huh.

Because he is a calm, cool-headed individual, yes he is.

He was not freaking out, and anyone who said otherwise is a liar.

Steps resonated in the small wood cabin owned by the younger heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Regulus swears he can hear his own hearbeats, beating in his ears and, somehow, telling him to do something, anything.

He doesn't quite know what to do, what to expect of this. This was crazy, right?

He knows it is, so why was he having second thoughts?

Do it, Reg. Just go for it, what could go wrong? A small voice says inside his head. It sounds deep and raspy, but also (for some reason) bubbly and playfull. ‘Like Sirius', he thinks.

Is it risky? Yes, definitly so. Would it be possibly worth it? He hopes so.

This is one-hundred percent a crazy, impulsive idea, but he was willing to try and give it a shot if it meant his brother would read him bedtime storys at night again.

He just wants his brother back, was that too much to ask?-

‘But it is! That lazy blood-traitor scum left you behind, for you to rot in that house, all by yourself while he had fun!’ A different voice screams at him and Regulus flinches, because it sounds so much like his mothers' voice it scares him to the bone.

"Please stop talking..." He begs to the empy room. He takes a shacky breath-in to try and get these voices of people that are not even there with him out of his head.

‘Reggie please listen to me! You have to get me out! I know you can do it, you're really smart!’ Sirius says inside his head, and Regulus can almost imagine him with puppy eyes while saying it.

‘Don't listen to that disgrace, Regulus! You are better than that, you will not hear whatever nonsense comes out of that stupid boys' mouth-’ ‘Im not stupid, you are the one in the wrong, Regulus knows-’ ‘Regulus will know best than to hear anything from you, unlike you, he knows what is best for him-’ ‘Like if you would know what is best for him-’

He feels overwhelmed, the voices are yelling at him to do things and Regulus doesn't know who to hear. He feels his heart beating faster, and he can hear his shaky breaths, and he feels the sweat in his forehead, and his hands in his ears-

"Stop!" Regulus yells, and the voices grow quiet. Hot tears stream down of his face as his knees make contact with the floor of wood.

The voices aren't talking anymore, but he still covers his ears tightly. He wants to get rid of the uncomfortable weight his chest has on it. He wants the headache that is starting to form to go away.

Suddlendly, its like he's five all over again. Just, this time, Sirius is not around to hug him.

Sirius wasn’t going to be around ever again.

Regulus tries to calm down. Breath in, breath out. He was going to be alright, he would find a way. He always does. He’s smart, Sirius always said so.

He remains kneeled on the floor for what feels like an hour, but were probably just two minutes (for him, it felt like a whole lifetime).

Regulus sighs and starts to stand up slowly, like if he went a little bit more quicker, then everything around him would dissapear in an instant.

Supporting his body on the wooden walls (he is still too dizzy to walk by himself, still too weak), Regulus makes his way towards his small bed made out of straw he borrowed (stole) and throws himself at it, exhausted of the events of today.

He has a plan, it is all clear in his mind already. And altough he is scared (of being taken to Azkaban, of dying while trying to save Sirius), a feeling he is not familiar with snuggles inside his chest. It has been there before, Regulus knows it has. (It feels like greeting an old friend who was there for you in your lowest point, but then dissapeared out of the blue. Regulus knows its name, but he can't shake its hand like old buddies would).

And then he closes his eyes and dreams about how his life has been so far. How cold it has been, how lonely it all felt (And Regulus wishes it would had passed like a blurr, (like when you zone out in a conversation and you miss a part of it) but it didn't, and Regulus hates that).

The next morning he wakes up with a headache that forces him to close his eyes tightly.

In all honestly, Regulus feels like shit, both physically and mentally.

Feelings suck, and he would stand by that until the day he became nutrients to the Earth.

He sits on the uncomfortable excuse of a bed slowly, trying not to make his headache worse than it already is. He sits there for a minute or two, before deciding to stand up and go see if there is anything he can eat.

He believes he bought food yesterday, but he couldn't really be sure about that. Everything that he did after reading that newspaper was blank, there was no memory of something else happening after that whatsoever.

His legs are better now that he rested properly. 'There is nothing a good nap can't cure!' Regulus remembers Sirius' voice telling him one day, after Walburga went particularly rough with the Cruciatus Curse on them.

Regulus remembers, that same night, Sirius cuddled up to him on his bed, and held him tight against his chest. Regulus never got in the way when Walburga was insulting Sirius, but that time he did. It did not end pretty.

They both ended up getting tortured, Regulus more than Sirius that time.

They were ten and six at that time.

Now he realized that he, in fact, did bought food yesterday. Some bread and cheese, along with a loaf of bread that didn't look in the best condition (he couldn't really afford that much after all, there was so much a few coins could buy).

As he started cutting some of the bread, he tought about his options, about what he could do and about what was out of the question.

Regulus could only think about two viable options that would (probably) (hopefully) decrease the chances of everything going wrong.

One (this one was crazy) he could try and become an animagus. An animal form would surely help him get in and out of the prison.

Now, that option would take him months of preparations, maybe even years.

(He knows most wizards and witches with animagus form had taken several years to even figure out how to become an animagus, but he is Regulus Black for Godric's sake. He isn't most wizards)

(He is better than most, after all)

The black-haired male stands there in the middle of his tiny kitchen, a knife still in his left hand. He thinks he has an idea, someone who would surely help him if he asked.

But in order to ask them, he would have to find them first.

Where exactly are you, Remus Lupin?

. . .

Remus wasn’t having a good morning (he never was having anything good). First, he woke up past 6 am and ended up arriving late at work (again), and his boss yelled at him for 5 minutes (again), and then, oh and then, he ended up getting fired (AGAIN), which, by the way, was the cherry on top to his shitty morning, and it wasn’t even 1 in the afternoon yet.

Now he would have to search for any jobs that would accept him, again (this was the second time in the month that he was fired from a job; in the first one he may or may not had punched a co-worker (in his defense, the bastard was talking shit about a female co-worker, and Remus just got really really angry).

And as he stomped angrily in the direction where his house was, he came to realize that he fucked this up really bad. Now he had no job, not even one kind of support to survive another month, and he sure as hell didn’t have any friends to go back to if things got more rough.

Ah, now he’s just sad.

He glanced at the plants and flowers growing at the sides of the road made of dirt, and he remembers.

Remus remembers the times when he used to be happy, when his only concern was passing his exams and not letting his crush on Sirius (oh Sirius, i miss you terribly) showing up and exposing him. When he would hang out with Lily at the library, and talk about how classes were starting to get more difficult as the days passed, or how they would gossip and talk badly about Severus ("-and have you seen his hair today?"), and they would talk and talk, and then talk some more.

Or when he would help James with his game plans, and they would stay up until the sun appeared again at the next day. Or when he would bake with Peter at the schools' kitchen at really late hours at night.

And he remembers, too, the times when he would look at Sirius and he would just get lost in his silver eyes. And Remus would look at him like Sirius was the most beatifull being in the would (in his eyes, he was).

He misses those times, he yearns for them. He wants them back, with all of his heart.

Life has always been rough for him, its just the way things are.

Because he deserved it.

(or so his father said)

Remus sees his little house at a distance. It looks deteriorated and in ruins, that house. The wild flowers are all around it, and there’s plants climbing on the walls and covering the windows.

He sees a cloaked figure standing on his porch, and Remus feels fear.

But he won’t show it, no, he won’t, ‘because fear is for cowards’ , his father would say, and the voice he would use left no room to question him.

“Can i help you with something?” Remus says, loud and clear.

The person in black tensed, and turned around to face Remus slowly, like if they were scared (’of what?’ Remus wondered, but he kept quiet- like he always does)

Facing each other, silver and brown met.

“Oh”

The wind roared from outside, strong and merciless as ever. It made the trees dance and the leaves from them to roam free on the sky.

The raindrops that fell from the sky were hitting on the glass of the window with force, on the roof, on the dirt. It left nothing untouched.

“How have you been, Remus?” The man in question turned his gaze from the window to the person in-front of him. The years had taken a ton from him, it seemed. Yet, the beauty he owned many years ago had not left him, no. It made him even more handsome, Remus concluded. His silver eyes (oh, his eyes were so smilar to his Sirius’-) were bright, a shine in them Remus has never seen before in the younger man.

Remus gripped the handle of his mug of tea. The sweet honey tea with lavender inside of it warmed his hands, full of calluses and old scars, it soothed him and the pains he felt in them. “You should be dead” He says, looking at the eyes of Regulus, searching (searching?) for an answer to his one-hundred-and-one questions.

“Let me explain, Remus. Please, would you listen to what i have to say?” Regulus says, and he sounds so hurt, so exhausted and done with everything. He says nothing in response, just goes back to looking out of the window, where the wind and rain still are. Where everything follows its course.

“I faked my death...that night i-, i saw an opportunity and i took it, and then i--”

“You left Sirius” Remus says, and the voice that comes out of him sounds so not like him, so aggressive and upset and loud and so much like his voice-

Still, Remus doesn’t back off. He looks up at Regulus and flinches. He looks so upset and angry, like Remus just did something so disgusting and wrong that he can’t take it.

Those silver eyes (One of the distinguished features of the oh so noble and honorary Black Family) burn in his soul like silver things burns in his skin. And it’s terrifyng and powerful in equal portions.

“He left me behind first, Remus” Regulus says, his voice filled with venom and as aggressive as Remus’ voice before. “He left me behind the moment i got into Slytherin” He adds, and Remus can hear his erratics breaths over the muffled sound of rain.

They stay silent, for a while. Not wanting to fight but not wanting to talk either.

“Why are you here, Regulus? We hardly ever talked back at Hogwarts, so i can’t imagine a reason behind your visit” Remus finally says. With the new need to do something (-anything), he stands up from the badly hand-made wood chair and takes his mug of half finished and still warm tea, walking with rapid steps towards the tiny kitchen connected to the living room. He occupies his hands with cutting the remains of the bread he baked yesterday.

“I came to ask you for a favor “ He starts “,you see-- Don’t look at me like that, Remus, hear me out first” Regulus says, and stands up too.

The black haired male takes a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something difficult to speak out loud. “Sirius is innocent, Remus, i am sure of it”

Everything goes silent from there. Remus can’t hear a thing because of the annoying ringing in his ears, and even before muffled sound of the rain is in the background now. He sees Regulus moving his mouth, and Remus is sure he is saying something (most probably something important), but he can’t hear a thing.

And Remus is so angry right now. It bubbles in his chest, from deep beneath with all of the emotions he repressed all of those years, and if he doesn’t calm down now then it’s going to explode. What could Regulus know anyways? He wasn’t even there in the first place! He was too bussy faking being dead, and hiding somewhere away from civilitation, like the stupid coward he is.

(Remus know he is a coward too, he knows it all too well. Because he knows that, (deep down) Sirius is innocent. He just hasn’t come to terms with it because he is so angry and he feels so betrayed and-- how could them leave him behind like this?) (Remus knows that he is stupid, too, because all he wants is someone to blame for the death of Lily and James and Peter-- someone to blame for little Harry slipping away from his fingers like sand)

(And Remus knows that he is a hypocrite, too)

“...--and you know, Remus, that Sirius would never do such a thing, we both know it!” Regulus says, his voice sounds more clear now, less muffled and silent. And it sounds so desperate, begging for understanding and someone to hear him out.

“Those were his best friends, and even i -that a i wasn’t even close to him-, knows that is a fact! He couldn’t had killed them like that!” He yells, and Remus feels sick.

“...get out...” The words come out of his mouth before he can register them, just above a whisper.

“What?”

“I said get out!” He shouts at Regulus, the boiling feeling of anger finally snaps inside of him, and now he just wants someone to yell at, someone to discharge all of his repressed emotions at.

And he does. Before he knows it, Regulus is out of his house and into the pouring rain, because Remus takes his wand out of his back pocket and yells a ´Crucio!’ and fires it to Regulus, who dodges and sprints out of the house.

And Remus is all alone again, inside of that small and old house, with the feeling of anger and guilt and sadness washing over him.

He feels his knees too weak to support him, and falls to the floor with a ‘thud!’. And for the first time since his loved ones left him, for the first time since his life fell apart, he allows himself to cry and yell.

And he feels like a little kid again.

. . .

Okay, Regulus admits, the plan did not work out like he thought it would.

Maybe he did broke the news too strongly, he kind of got angry at first. But it wasn’t really his fault, Remus said something he couldn’t even had known! His relationship with Sirius and how broken it was wasn’t any of his business.

But it’s fine, Regulus can do this on his own. It’ll be harder, but he’ll do it.

No matter the cost.

Two years pass by and Regulus is ready to start with the second and hardest part of his plan. Getting Sirius out of prison.

It too him a whole year and a half to even figure out how to become an animagus, and the other half of the year to learn how to switch to his animal form. But he’s finally ready, and he is so excited to mend things with Sirius and be brothers again.

Now he’s standing on the port, unleashing the rope that’s tied to a boat he’s about to steal. The boat is old, but it looks solid still. Regulus wonders what kind of adventures it has lived, the people it has carried, the tales it had heard from other peoples’ mouths.

Regulus gets in the boat before it couldbfloat away from shore, and sits.

He feels the texture of the wood under him. It's cold and damp, and he can feel the old carves in the wood forming the word he assumes reads 'fishy'.

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head side to side. Probably a little kid wrotte that.

Maybe many years ago, a family had a trip to catch fishies in this very boat. Regulus pictures a father and his youngest son, on a sunny day, in this boat. The father tries to teach his son how to catch a fish, but the child, as most little kids usually do, gets bored with the waiting and as there's no other way of entertaiment, he carves the word on the old boat.

He wishes that instead of being in this situation, in the thick, thick fog, he would be fishing with his older brother. He wishes things turned out differently.

Regulus wishes he could live his youth with his brother, instead of trying to rescue him from a crime he definitely did not commit.

Oh, Regulus wishes were so many. But those were only wishes, thoughts that are in the past now. Realities that already lost their chances to exist a long time ago.

And with these thoughts clouding his mind like the fog cloudes his vision, Regulus grabs the oars and starts paddling.

The splinters in the oar feel like nothing against his tough and scarred hands, instead of hurting him, they keep him on the real world, away from the one where he goes when everything is too much, when he loses himself.

Regulus doesn't know how many hours went by until he could see the impotent building that was Azkaban. And as he was nearing it, the waves kept rocking his small boat, threatening him to flip.

He wonders if everything he's doing right now would be enough. He wonders, as the boat flips harshly to its side and throws him off of it into the freezing water, if Sirius knows he loves him more then life itself.

Regulus doesn't fight back the cold water, not at all. Instead, he lets it settle in his bones, in his belly, in his lungs.

If being held feels like this, then Regulus decided he liked it. No one ever held him before, maybe as a baby, but as he grew older, the only one who held him close was Sirius.

Sirius... who is Sirius, exactly?

He tries to remember, he feels the name belongs to an important person, but his mind is as numb as his arms and legs feel, if not even more.

It doesn't matter, he thinks, because im dying anyways.

Life is cruel, he decides with a heavy feeling in his chest, as his heavy body sinks him deeper and deeper on the ocean.

He'll be sleeping forever next to sand and rocks and corals of multiple colours, and the black of his hair will meld perfectly next to them.

Regulus doesn't fight, but he dies with a ball of hatred and love and yearning in his heart. He'll be dreaming for eternity of wishes and unspoken words, of hugs and arms that will never hold him ever again.

Life is cruel, and Regulus Black knows it all too well.

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IM SORRY I JUST COULDN'T GIVE THE BLACK BROTHERS AND REMUS THEIR HAPPY ENDING SKSNEKEMS what can i say, im a sucker for an angsty ending.

anyways, this was inspired by this blog (https://eronlupett.tumblr.com/post/642858372635475968/i-need-a-writer) by ". and before you mentuon it, yes, i was going to writte a happy ending, i just couldn't, like, cmon on, it was right there, i couldn't resist.

i had lots of fun writting this, but it still took me almost 5 months to finish it lolz. guess i just didn't had the motivation.

let me know what you think of my witting style, or if you have any opinions, just dont b disrespectful!

byebye^^

#Remus Lupin #Sirius orion black #regulus black #lily james #lol this sucks #angst headcanon #harry potter angst #bad ending #im honeslty not sorry #im an asshole hehe #no fluff

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cuddlesslut · 4 years

Text

A Happy Accident

Definitely Nsfw! And Crack 😊

Summary: it's an honest mistake really sending a message to the wrong chat. But what about when you send your nude to the wrong chat...

Warning: Nsfw, pet names, degradation,daddy kink, sex, fingering, anal, double penetration, blow jobs

Please Read. This is my first time writing smut. And it took me a long time to write this. I'm sorry in advance for any and all grammar and spelling errors. I hope you enjoy it and that it's up to your standards. 💕💕😚💕💕

Part Seven: The deed

You stood next to these boys several times before but never before had you realized how tall they actually were. Towering over you. Maybe teasing them so much while you were at school wasnt such a good idea because as soon as the three volleyball players stepped into your room, the door was locked, you were pushed against into their embrace their hands flying to you not missing a beat. You stood there your shirt had been removed leaving you in only your bra, school skirt, and panties that were getting more and more drenched. Your back was pressed tightly again Bokuto's chest his mouth placed hot, messy kisses on your neck. As Kuroo’s tongue danced in your mouth stealing the air out of your lungs. You threw your head back against Bo’s shoulder biting your lip trying to suppress the moan errupting from you as he snuck his hand in between you and the middle blocker grazing his fingers over clothed warmth . You felt slender fingers grasp on to your jaw directing your attention to Akaashi who stood next to the group. Your eyes locked on to his pretty dick in his hand thumb rubbing over his red tip stroking his length.

“look at me baby girl,” the setter said “i want to hear you, Understand,” his tight grip loosening his fingers moved from your jaw to your swollen lips. His thumb rubbing over bottom lip just as you had seen him do to the tip of his hard cock. Another moan ripped from your throat as Bokuto finally slipped his hand under the fabric petting his fingers through your folds.

“Aaah Bo-,” you were cut off by kaashi two fingers being shoved into your mouth.

“Suck.” he stated voice firm as his eyes bore into yours. Not needing to be told twice you wrapped you lips around his digits tongue swirling around them.

“Fuck, Kitten,” Kurro chuckled “Youre such a good girl,” he praised. His large hand roaming around your chest reach behind you to undo your bra. Finally freeing your breast the cold air stinging your hard nipples. His rough fingers caressing the hardened nub. Causing you to arch into the touch moaning around Akaashi's slender fingers.

“beautiful ,” Kurro cooed. moving his lips down to your breast taking a bud into his mouth sending shivers down your spine, feeling his hot mouth on your breast while he pinched the other sending you into even more of a sexual frenzy.

Seeing this as the perfect opportunity the ace behind you finally inserted two fingers into your wet heat. causing you to squeak from the sudden sinful stretch of your most sensitive area feeling with fingers being squeezed by your aching heat.

“shit ,” he cursed feeling his fingers being sucked into you “you're so fucking tight my little whore,,” he groaned into your ear finally stopping the assault on your neck that had no doubt was covered in bruises. “ that greedy little cunt of yours is just swallowing my fingers up. he laughed as he thrusted his fingers in and out of your heat curling his fingers and touching the perfect spot deep inside of you.

Akaashi could see your high climbing and see you so close to your first release he removed his fingers from your mouth a string of saliva trailing from his digits to you. He moved his hand down to your neglected bundle of nerves.

Its like these boys were telepathic the way they worked so in sync working your body over. Your legs feeling weak as Bokuto fingers pistioned in and out of you. Kuroo rolling a nipple in between his teeth. His right hand gripping on to your free tit. the final straw was the light pinch kaashi gave your clit. Sending waves of pleasure over you stimulated body. a lewd moan ripping through you as your legs gave out from under you.

Bokuto's strong arms wrapping around you guiding you to the bed so you can catch your breath. Resting in the center of the bed you throw your head back chest rising from what could probably be the best orgasm you've had so far. You look up to see that the three boys had rid themselves of their clothes. standing there in front of you almost predatory. they stood there with so much confidence looking like three Greek Gods. Eyes scanning their bodies you felt your arousel growing as your eyes dropped to what each of them were packing. Eyes blown wide with lust and wonder at how you were going to take all of them. You bit your lip looking at your three lovers. Kuroo smirking at you , Akaashi had a stoic look almost emotionless but his eyes said it all they stared deep into to you with such intensity. His eyes showing just as much lust for you as you had for him. Bokuto however stood there the most mischievous grin.

“Are you okay baby girl?” akaashi questioned.

“Yes sir “

“Good,” he climbed into the bed with you. crawling between your thighs.” then theres no need for these,” he smirk pulling you lace panties and Nekoma skirt down your legs leaving you completely bare to the boys in front you.

Akaashi made his way over you body pinning you to the bed his hands running up you figure before he captured you in a searing kiss. your tongues struggling for dominance in which the setter quickly won the battle and ground his hard cock against you causing you to gasp from the friction.

“She makes the pretty sounds doesnt she” Kuroo praised

“fuck.. dont forget to share Akaashi,” bokuto smirked

“OH dont worry shes gunna take care of all of us, arent you baby,” he stated no question in his voice as he flipped the two of you. So you were now straddling his waist.

‘ yes ,” you mumbled lost in the feeling of his hot length sliding against you clit.

Akaashi hand wound its way into your hair tugging slightly pulling you head back.

“what was that Baby Girl?” eyebrows hitch in a stern questioning look. a domineering look that cause a flood of frustration straight to your center.

“YES SIR ,” you gasped .

“Wow kaashi you got her trained so well already,” bokuto chuckled from his new position behind you. His strong hands firmly grabbing at you plump ass.

“Dont worry,” he said said breath hitting you as he nipped at your ear. “ were going to take good care off you too.”

You shuddered from the promise Bo made getting lost in a frenzy of thoughts. all the different ways they could use your body. Akaashi could see the excitement you radiated. He readjusted himself his tip grazing your soaked entrance. He looked up to your eyes waiting for the reassurance you quickly gave him before pushing his head past your folds slowing pulling you farther down his length. You were lost in the beautiful sight in front of you that was stoic Akaashi Keiji eyes pressed shut, head tilted back and lip pressed between his teeth , in pleasure as he felt you tight cunt clinching around him. Finally reaching the base you shuddered from how much he stretched you.

On the other side if you you could feel Bokutos fingers now slathered in lube start to prep your second hole. “be a good slut and show me how well you take care of them,” he smirked. Directing your attention to Kuroo. Who now stood next to the three of them. His heavy dick in hand the swollen tip leaking precum.

“You ready to suck Daddys cock Kitten?” He asked patting his hot length against your face sliding it to your soft lips. leaving behind a sticky trail of precum. You open your mouth giving little kitten lick to his flushed tip staring straight into his eyes.

“good girl,” he purred as you wrapped your lips around him. your tongue swirling around his member as you took him farther into you mouth.

“Mmmhn” you moaned around Kuroo as Akaashi started his assault on you pussy snapping his hips up. His length hitting deep inside of you. Akaashis largers hands grabbed at your cheeks pulling them further apart helping Bokuto sink two fingers into you tight whole. You choked around Kuroo as Bo breached the tight muscle.

“Fuck Kitten,” Kuroo moaned as you took him farther into you wet mouth. His right hand gripped tightly into you H/C hair as he fucked into your wide open mouth. His left hand grabbing and pinching your perky nipples. Tears prickling your eyes from the stimulation as Akaashi contiued drilling into you. “You're such a good girl.”

Akaashi was amazed as the sight in front of him. You looking so utterly helpless being attaked on all sides. He reached one of his hands up to your neck feel Kuroo hard cock sliding down you throat as you took all of him.

You start to squeeze tight as you high started approaching. And you werent the only one . Kuroo thrust getting sloppy as he fucked deep into your face.

“im going to come Kitten,” he warned. But you continued your assault hollowing your cheeks around him finally drawing out his orgasm as he spilt his seed into your mouth . He pulled out leaving a trail of white that spilt down your chin. Ypu swallowed the load. smiling up at Kuroo.

Your attenion brought back to your situation as Boukto pushed you forward pressing you chest into Akaashi. Giving him easy access as he started to push his tip into your prepped entrance. Kaashi slowed down his movement to better help you adjust to Bo slowly sinking farther into your ass. Both stilled allowing you to adjust to the intrusion. Akaashi took you lips into a reassuring kiss as Bokuto ran his hands down your back soothingly.

“Are you ready Y/n,” Bokuto asked.

“Yes please move, both of you,” you gasp going stir crazy.

The boys started their movement, Moving in tandem never letting you feel empty. Your had never felt more full. Your high quickly approaching again. your walls begin closing around Akaashi and it clear he wont last much longer with how you closing around him. He sped up his thrust. moving like a man on a mission, His grip on your waist bruising as drove into you most sensitive spot driving you over the edge.

“Kaaashi,” you exclamied as your body shook from pleasure. Your heat clenched tight around his length. Pushing Akaashi into his own release painting your walls in his white seed. Your arms gave out causing you to fall into his chest. You barried your face in the crook of his neck anchoring yourself as Bokuto continued his assault from behind.

“Fuck that was hot watching your slutty pussy taking all of kaashi,” he goaded. “hows it feel being stuffed full of our cum Y/N” he continued. he looked down at his cock disappearing inside your tight ass.

“Sht your doing such a good job being our cumslut,” he said giving your ass a hard smack. Causing you to bite into Akaashi’s neck as Bo fucked you into his best friend. Your intense orgasm building again quicker this time from the added stimulation of your previous pleasure.

“come for me one more time Y/n” bokuto commanded as he moved a hand around to your clit. Rubbing your bundle of nerves sending sparks of electricity through you body pull a scream from your overstimulated body as you came hard. Your scream alone was enough to send Bokuto into a frenzy as he fucked you through your relase before emptying himself to you.

Nothing was heard in the room except the heavy breathing of all its occupants. Your body finally betraying you as you collasped on to the bed. Your legs shaking.

“You did amazing Beautiful,” Bokuto said moving up to you placing a kiss to your temple smoothing your hair out of you exhausted face. Akaashi rubbed his hand soothingly over body.

“lets clean you up Kitten,” kuroo said kissing your lips once more.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

Yay thank-you all for all the love and support!! This is my first smau and im so happy everyone is enjoying it!!!💖💖💖💖

💕Part Six 💕 Masterlist 💕 Next

Taglist: @starboybokuto-recs @insomniish @ikemenweebo @nishiya-is-baby @writingfreakk @unicorngluttony @fuckoffyoutoad @karasunosimp @k4tiepie @alinebls @weebintheinternet @callmekda @tendouthighs @elegant-gypsophilia @nanananisstuff @emptygemini @wolfytrixa @chaichai-beat-boi @nico-chin @justxtulyyy @superrjello @chiibichann @emiyummy @azgucci @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @tinygremliin @ynjimenez @steggy4ever @thirsthourdemon @xxlilcreepxx @therealwalmartjesus @catherinecm @90s-belladonna @jtsgjdfjg @indigohitoshi @its-me-nico

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Note

some of the aot fans (probably just casual readers) don't see the parallels between EM and LH???? like the brunettes desire to live with their ackermans together in the woods? they call levihan shippers delusionals. their attacking levihans that they didn't read the manga well and we just want our ship to be canon??? WTH????

I keep wondering if it's just us, levihans, who see these parallels?

im sorry for this rant, it's just soooo frustrating. Basically the reason why i leave twt lol not yet, im still there bcoz of lh filo socmed aus

I have so many things I wanna say about chapter 138 and I am so sorry I only got to it now. I think most Levihan fans already said what I wanted to say but either way, I’ll just give some thoughts I entertained when these came out.

Coz first of all…

As a Levihan shipper, I am obviously ecstatic about this but as most people know, I come from a household where everyone is not too enthusiastic about Levihan. They are so very enthusiastic about INVALIDATING LEVIHAN in particular that my sister and my parents who don’t even watch AOT just come up to me while I’m staring at Levihan art on tumblr and go…

“What are you doing?”

“Staring at art.”

“Oh, is that the one couple you like who don’t even love each other or smthg.”

Cause apparently my sisters who watch AOT and my boyfriend have been SO vocal about invalidating Levihan that even my parents now are on ship that they aren’t even a thing and I’m just delusional but yes, since I live in a house where literally ‘shipping Levihan’ is on the same level as ‘the curtains are blue so the narrator is sad’ type of interpretation, I will start by mentioning a more pragmatic argument to this whole Levihan and Eremika parallel.

While I am one of those who can definitely see that yes those were clear parallels, there are some louder people( mostly Eruri shippers) who think that LH fandom is just grasping on straws and trying to diminish their supposedly canon ship( because EL and EM ackerbonding thing) so I was wondering what is your view on this?

So, to break down the argument...

It’s a war story blah blah blah. And besides Mikasa loved Eren from the start blah blah blah.

I think this is an argument I see a lot. Because Yams is writing a war story and I think a lot of people are suggesting that it’s a war story here is no way anyone can be canon or anyone can have romantic relationships.

AND I HATE THIS TAKE. Relationships are human nature. Yes, being arromantic exists but I don’t believe that in a fictional space, romance can ever NOT exist. Because most---or scratch that--- I believe all humans will search for companionship and I do not believe it is ever reaching to jump from whatever companionship exists between people and contemplate the potential of romance, except incest but that’s another story.

Yeah because if there’s no kiss or sex then it’s not a romance apparently.

Well guess what, we’re all reaching then, cause only Eren and Mika got the kiss. But lemme drop some social experiment I did.

I actually showed the Eremika and Levihan ‘Let’s live together scenes’ side by side to a colleague at work who doesn’t watch AOT and she told me, WITHOUT CONTEXT, that she prefers the scene between Levihan more than Eremika and the reason behind that is because there were undertones, specifically in the Korean translation’ that Hange was tired, and there’s this apparent romantic-ness to it when you dream of something when you’re tired and when you dream of a particular someone.

Because here’s the thing, when you love someone, when you decide to be in a relationship with someone, that person will be your HOME. And now that I think about it, it definitely hits for me more, because when Hange was tired, when Hange was completely exhausted and spent, she dreamt of a future with Levi.

And don’t you think that it’s more romantic that ‘despite everything, she thinks of him’ compared to ‘she constantly thinks of him?’ Because I dunno, when someone is constantly thinking of someone, there’s actually no effort really needed for the feeling to grow, but when ‘they think of someone, despite everything.’ There’s this idea that the relationship can withstand more things and that means they thought long and hard about it.

Their life is so interesting and eventful, yet at the end of the day, there exists someone who still shines brighter than life itself and that’s why ‘Despite everything, she thinks of him’ rings brighter than ‘she constantly thinks of him’ for me at least.

Probably a personal preference thing but either way… Just my take.

Western people don’t consider running away ‘romantic?’

This is something I’ve discussed with filo moots multiple times and this is something I’ve thought about reading the Japanese and English translations, reading the Filipino Soc Med AUs and having my friend read the Korean ones.

The Japanese and Koreans are quick to see the romantic undertones, a lot of my Filipino moots are quick to see those romantic undertones too. But we have the western fandom on Reddit going ‘Yo Erehisu foh evah’ and people saying ‘Levihan not canon they didn’t kiss.’

But YO both of my parents are ‘tanan’ (runaway in tagalog) babies. My mom actually ran away with a man and wasn’t allowed to talk to her dad until she graduated. My dad disobeyed his parents to marry my mom. They were setting my dad up with another woman and they were going to have a big wedding and everything but my dad was like…

NOPE Imma run away and marry this woman.

And can I just say, my parents are the MOST unromantic people but they literally disobeyed their parents, ran away together, literally risked their relationships with their parents to make it work.

And my parents are one of the few people in their family who are still in a happy relationship even after 25 years of marriage.

Okay, I admit, sometimes running away is a dumb decision and shouldn’t constantly be romanticized.

But I don’t think a lot of people understand the gravity of what ‘tanan’ entails. Legit, it was emphasized in 138 already, if Eren ran away, Paradis could have been overrun by military soon. And if Hange and Levi ran away to the woods, ‘what would there have been left for them?

And in real life, my mom literally gave up her relationship with her dad to try to make the relationship work. My dad gave up the comforts of marrying a rich woman in a lavish wedding to marry my mom.

They literally had a civil wedding, went out to eat Chinese noodles and China town as a post wedding meal and 25 years later, they have one of the strongest relationships I’ve ever seen.

AND NO ONE RUNS AWAY WITH SOMEONE FOR THE LELZ. So yes, running away with someone will always be romantic for me.

And the Ackerbond?

Something I always find myself asking. Why do people want the Ackerbond to actually be a thing? Because if the Ackerbond were real, then wouldn’t that invalidate all Eruri and Eremika even more since we know they’re just trapped in the relationship like Stockholm syndrome or something?

And besides didn’t Yams debunk that chapters ago?

Anyway, onto the next questions

hi sav! i have a question about the recent chapter. do you think the em and lh parellels were done on purpose by isayama?

And to answer this question… I am not so sure actually. I talked to a Japanese friend who grew up in the same prefecture as Yams, apparently it was her acquaintance from high school who married Yams and they were childhood sweethearts.

So maybe Yams got it from them? My memory on that convo is hazy but it’s only possible that he built Eremika from there. And Levi and Hange’s development is just incredibly different that I don’t think Yams thought that far to do it.

My theory here is that Yams is writing a war story and he only has one way he could have ever shown romance in a war story and that’s through ‘running away’ so I believe the parallels are unintentional but I genuinely believe that this was Yam’s way of showing romantic undertones.

And I personally do not think that Levi and Hange would have ever kissed in that time in their life, at least intentionally and I hoenstly commend Yams for doing such a good job with the subtlety of the romance because I’ve literally seen so many great characters in other stories completely butchered by a poorly done romantic subplot so I aint complaining about these romantic undertones.

But either way,

I hang in the Japanese fandom a lot and there have been lots of fandom discussion on Levihan becoming endgame if 132 didn’t happen. And there are actually articles on this putting Levihan as endgame along with Eremika so I’m kinda suspecting that invalidating Levihan is an anime-only fan and reddit fandom type of thing.

But anyway, thank you for reading, sorry for the long rant.

#levihan #meta

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dapandapod · 3 years

Text

Hollow pt 4

It is finally here. After a year, the last chapter of Hollow is here. Prompted by my darling shiny @chaotic-fae-queen and a careful beta read by wonderful @kuripon (both are amazing writers, go check them out!) and Im so happy for them both!

Thank you all for following me through this. I hope you like this last chapter 💖

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Ao3

He is anger and hurt and shuddering breaths and thunder and sadness.

It trembles through him, when Jaskier looks at him with no recognition. Geralt knew, he knew it would happen and still it hurts. It was wise to let Yennefer approach first as he is not sure he would have been able to do it again. If the bard feels any fear, the wind has swept the scent of it away.

Jaskier leads them towards a little hut a short walk from the beach. It is a nice hut, walls tightly fitted and barely letting any of the raging wind inside. The inside is as modest as the outside; there is a bed, a fireplace and a small bookcase. The lute is leaning against the wall in the far corner of the room, seemingly untouched. A table stands in the middle of the room with two chairs. Of course.

Yennefer sits down while Jaskier bustles around to start a pot of tea, and Geralt leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“May I offer you anything? I didn’t bring much but I'm sure I still have biscuits somewhere.”

Geralt ignores him, eyes locking on a familiar notebook on the bed. It is a bit worse for wear than last he saw it, the pages worn with use. Jaskier always brought that with him, and that seems to be true still.

“So, Gerald was it?” Jaskier says, looking through cabinets and drawers in his hunt for biscuits. “Have you been around these parts before?” Smalltalk. Jaskier is making smalltalk.

Geralt nods silently, still avoiding to look at the bard. He can hear the bard turn to look for a reply, so he nods again, staring holes into the notes.

“Jaskier, would you please sit down with me for a moment?” Yennefer finally asks, snapping Jaskier out of his hosting duties. When Yennefer asks like that, it is better to listen.

“There is something I need to tell you, and I need you to listen and tell me if you recall anything.”

Geralt chances a look at Jaskier, who is swallowing hard and darts a look back at Geralt. Fuck. He aches inside, and he looks away again with a frown.

“What do you remember from before you came to Oxenfurt?” Yennefer asks.

“I- uh…” Jaskier frowns, looking down at the table. “I'm not sure. I remember I hired someone to bring me there, but I can’t recall his name anymore. I think I was attacked on the road, because I have a scar on my side.” As Jaskier talks, he idly touches the side where the scar hides.

Yennefer nods and then looks pointedly at Geralt.

“I took you to Oxenfurt,” Geralt grumbles out. “And it was because of me you were hurt.”

“Geralt!” Yennefer protests, but it’s the truth. Geralt's truth.

“You did? But I don’t recognize you at all!” Jaskier says and Geralt just wants to leave.

“Alright, we will do this another way.” Yennefer sighs, clearly done with Geralt already. “Jaskier, memories were taken from you. Are being taken from you. You and Geralt spent years together, and something is making you forget him.” Jaskier frowns at that, then puts his face in his hands.

A soft moan comes from him, as if he were in pain.

“Do you know what you have forgotten, good and bad, or do you wish to carry on? I need to know if you want to remember.” She asks, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t force it on you. You have a choice.” Yennefer shoots Geralt a glare as she says this.

The seconds tick by, and Geralt is all nerves.

On one hand, he desperately wants Jaskier safe. On the other hand, he desperately wishes to have him close. They don’t go well together, sadly.

“I think I need to know.” Jaskier finally says, and Geralt feels like someone has punched him in the chest. “But I don’t think I can do it today. It is a lot to take in.”

Yennefer and Geralt return to the hut in the morning. The skies have cleared up and the gulls are circling high above them and diving into the wild sea. Jaskier sits outside his door, leaning back against the dirt wall, chewing on a piece of straw. His eyes are closed, head tilted up towards the sun. The breeze is warm and brings a salty tang with it. When they come closer, Jaskier startles.

“Yennefer! I'm so glad to see you! It’s been so long!” He bounces up, arms wide like he is going in for a hug. He doesn’t, thankfully, so Yennefer doesn’t have to do something cruel. It doesn’t bode well that he doesn’t remember yesterday, but at least they are about to do something about it.

Then Jaskier's eyes snag on the witcher behind her, and his eyes widen comically.

“Bringing a bodyguard while visiting little ol' me?” His eyes rake Geralt up and down. Not a modest bone in that one.

“He will be staying outside,” She says with a smirk over her shoulder and Geralt scowls. “Do you have chamomile tea?”

She stalks into his hut without waiting, sitting down in the same chair as yesterday. Jaskier comes inside after her, giving one last look at Geralt before he closes the door, and then he starts the same routine as yesterday, looking for herbs and kettles.

“It really is such a great coincidence to meet you today, Yennefer,” He tells her, banging the same cabinets and drawers. “There is something I need to ask you.”

He puts the water on, takes out mugs for them and finally, finally sits down. There is a short silence, only disturbed by the sound of waves and seabirds from the outside. Yennefer is sure Geralt is listening to every word they say through the door.

“I think,.” Jaskier begins, clutching his empty cup in his hands,” I think there is something wrong with me.” He looks absolutely miserable, twirling the cup back and forth.

“What makes you think that?” She asks, knowing full well.

“I have a notebook,” Jaskier says quietly, like a confession. “It is filled with my handwriting, but I don’t remember a thing.”

Oh.

“Yennefer. I think I was in love.”

Oh fuck.

“May I see it?” She asks. She doesn’t know why she asks, but it is too late now. Jaskier hesitates for a moment, then he stands up, checks on the pot above the fire, and fetches a collection of notes that Geralt was trying to stare to death yesterday.

That explains a thing or two.

“I can’t for the life of me figure out why I don’t remember them. And everything in here is just hints, the shapes of secrets,” he says as Yennefer looks through the worn pages. It’s beautiful and rough, and just as he said, shapes. But Yennefer sees Geralt in them, and he sees the feelings Jaskier talks about.

“I might know what is wrong with you,” she says, closing the book and pushing it over the table. Jaskier takes it and strokes it’s cover lovingly. “But I need to do something to be certain. Jaskier, are you sure you want to know? Because there is so much pain in your past.”

Jaskier takes a moment, thinking it over. When he looks at her again, he looks troubled.

“It feels like someone is raking through my mind, and there are so many things I just can’t wrap my head around.” Jaskier says, looking down at the table. “It is eating me up inside, carving and emptying me out. I need to know.”

The same reply as yesterday then. Good. She can work with that.

Yennefer is strong. Incredibly powerful. Julian can’t wield magic, but he feels the vibrations of it in his chest, in his mind.

“You have a powerful curse on you,” she tells him, sweat forming on her forehead. She makes no attempt to wipe it away, only trying to force her breathing into a more steady rhythm. “It is going to be a bit tricky undo. I need to find what it is centered around.”

The vibrations stop, and he feels strangely empty when it’s gone.

“How?” Julian asks, and Yennefer smirks. She is indeed terrifying when she does that.

“I'm going to ask intrusive questions and you are going to answer them honestly.”

And she does. She asks about everything and nothing. When she asks him about his lute, he is surprised. He has a lute? Since when? Then he looks around the small hut and sees it standing in a corner. Not for the first time, he feels fear’s icy fingers grip around him.

Then she asks him about the songs, the poems, if he remembers where it all comes from. He finds he cannot answer.

“I have a theory,” Yennefer finally says, sipping her tea. “It is a little insulting if it is true, but nonetheless.”

“Let's hear it,” Julian replies, will he finally, finally know what’s happening to him.

“I think the curse makes you forget what you love most.”

Julian gapes. A million things run through his mind. A million things, his minds fingers grasping after them as they slip away.

“I can break it, but it will take some work. Do you want that?” She looks at him, he feels her in his head. He knows she has found his answer, but he says it anyway.

“Yes.”

Geralt hears bits and pieces from the conversation going on inside. He has taken the chair that Jaskier vacated, the sun warming his face in the breeze. Geralt tries not to listen in. Nothing good would come from hearing their conversation.

He focuses on the sea instead. On the gulls cry, on the roar of the waves, on the familiar lull of Jaskiers voice. It is peaceful. Quiet. If it wasn’t for the storm inside him, he would have been content.

Jaskier's eyes on him today, assessing him like he would a stranger in a tavern, it was… sad. Geralt misses his friend. And fears for him too. The scar that already mars his body, the curse, just being with Geralt puts him in danger.

What will happen next? When Jaskier remembers? What if he can’t remember, if Yennefer can’t break it? Geralt is not sure which is worse, but being forgotten hurts. There are many ways to lose a friend. But it stings even now, as he knows that the word friend is not enough. Not near enough.

Geralt has many friends. Many people he cherishes. But with Jaskier, it’s bigger. What he feels when he looks at him, it’s… frightening. He knows the word for it. It is waiting on the tip of his tongue, hidden behind firmly shut lips. The reason he needs to protect Jaskier.

Geralt falls into meditation easily. Their voices through the wall become a backdrop, his mind following the clouds instead of the raging sea. It soothes him to hear Jaskier again. Yennefer is right. It is not his decision to make.

Shame and fear drove him to this.

Geralt is selfish, he knows.

His medallion vibrates, a flash of light and the smell of sulfur breaks him out of meditation.

In the blink of an eye, Geralt is on his feet, sword in hand and heart in his throat. He sees no threat, senses no one else in the area, and slowly straightens again. Right.

So it’s done then.

This is when Jaskier leaves him, memories intact.

Silence reins inside the hut. Geralt doesn’t dare break it. He sits back down, leaning his head back against the wall. He closes his eyes and feels every emotion that rushes through him. All the what-ifs, all the if-nots.

Maybe Geralt should leave. He could leave, right now, and Jaskier wouldn’t get hurt because of him again.

Jaskier comes out of the hut, Yennefer close behind him. Geralt turns his head and looks at them, but says nothing.

Yennefer puts a hand on Jaskier's arm, squeezing it and smiling. Jaskier stands with his back turned, but Geralt thinks he is smiling too.

“I’ll be in town if you need me,” Yennefer says quietly. She turns, opens a portal, and then she is gone.

Once again silence sits between them, thick and heavy.

When Jaskier turns, he is frowning.

For a long moment, they just look at each other. Geralt feels locked in place, the roar of his emotions keeping him firmly stuck.

“Why?” Jaskier asks finally. He looks angry, hurt, disappointed.

“Because I can’t lose you,” Geralt says before he can stop himself. It is the truth anyway.

“So you let me forget?”

“To keep you safe.”

“Geralt. Do you know what the curse was?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt shakes his head. Jaskier presses his lips together into a thin line, another flash of anger behind those blue eyes.

“It made me forget what I love the most. Who I love the most.”

Geralt did….not expect that.

“Vital parts of me, gone. Do you know what it’s like to feel hollow inside, Geralt? To have a piece of yourself so thoroughly missing?” Jaskier's voice is calm, and Geralt can’t stand it.

Geralt swallows thickly and stands up, walking closer to Jaskier.

With one hand he grips Jaskier's chin and angles it up so that they look at each other.

“I do.” Geralt confesses. He is pain and fear and hurt and shuddering breaths and thunder and sadness.

It tears through him, and he lets himself feel it, show it, and Jaskier watches it all.

Jaskier loves him.

Jaskier forgot him.

Geralt let him.

“Why did you let me go?” Jaskier whispers, his own hurt and sadness and shuddering breaths falling from his lips. His hand comes up to wrap around Geralt's wrist, his eyes searching for the something hiding on the tip of Geralt's tongue.

“Because I… Because I love you,” Geralt says quietly, and the something builds. Builds and builds in his chest, so big that he can barely breathe. Geralt lets his other hand come up and cup Jaskier's cheek.

They are standing close together, the wind tearing at their clothes, but they are holding on to each other so tightly.

“Because I can’t stand to see you hurt, not because of someone like me.”

“Geralt-”

“Please let me say this. I think I need to tell you this.”

Jaskier nods and shuts his mouth, his hand on Geralt's wrist warm and grounding, keeping him steady.

“I am selfish, Jaskier.” It feels so good to say his name again. “The only way for me to let you go, I-”

He falters. It is hard to speak. Once again he admires Jaskiers ability to express himself.

“To forget me, to let you go this way was the safest way I knew how. It hurt me, but I could live with that pain if it meant that you are safe.”

Anger and hurt flashes in his eyes again.

“Geralt. She tooks my memories, yes, she made me forget all I love, all that brings me joy. Not just you. I forgot my name. My lute. My songs. My friends. One after another, they all faded away. Do you know how terrifying that is?”

With his words, Geralt grows cold. He didn’t realize it was so bad.

Let it hurt you like it hurt me.

It made perfect sense now. The spell was aimed at him, not Jaskier. And Jaskier has so much love in him.

“And I kept you from those things.” Geralt realizes with a shaky whisper. “I thought I could keep you safe, but I hurt you. Again. I don’t know how to keep you safe.” Jaskier smiles sadly at him and pushes their foreheads together.

“Idiot witcher,” He says, and Geralt closes his eyes. “Life isn’t safe. I am very angry with you for leaving me, Geralt. But I am incredibly happy you came back for me.”

“I almost didn’t.” Geralt confesses with a whisper, because he can’t seem to stop himself from hurting either of them. “I was so convinced that you were safer without me.”

“I probably would be,” Jaskier agrees, and the confirmation rips through him, sharper than any blade. “And you will never stop believing that. But you don’t get to make that choice for me. That choice is mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I think that is only the third time in my life I have heard you apologise,” Jaskier says, and Geralt can hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“I have something I need to say too, but I think you already know by now.”

Geralt swallows hard again, a roaring need rising in his chest.

“Would you look at me, Geralt?” Jaskier whispers, and he does. Their eyes lock, inches from each other, and Jaskier's grip on his wrist tightens. His eyes are so incredibly blue.

“I love you,” Jaskier tells him, smiling sadly again.

No, that sad smile is not allowed.

Geralt leans forward that last inch, tilting his head, closing that terrible distance.

It is soft and a little awkward. Jaskier kisses him back, lips dry and clinging to each other, but Geralt wants nothing else.

“Don’t ever let me forget again.” Jaskier whispers against his lips.

Geralt can do nothing but promise.

#memory loss #geraskier #light angst #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #dapanda writes #jaskier the bard #yennefer of vengerberg #getting together #difficult conversations

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janekfan · 3 years

Text

Chronic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802141

Thank you @taylortut for helping me!!!

Jon looked at the clock.

537.

The glowing numbers burned themselves into his retinas. How had it been less than an hour since last he’d checked? No use for it. Better to get himself up and ready for work. But he’d closed his eyes against the headache blaring like a klaxon and he’d have to open them again at some point.

Taking advantage of his lonely flat, Jon allowed himself to indulge the noise pushing its way through grit teeth as he maneuvered his sore legs from under the quilt. He sat a moment, pressing the bare soles of his feet on the cold floor and levering his heavy body upright with a shaking arm.

Exhausted.

And it’s only--a quick glance.

544.

The hell was wrong with him?

Since just before accepting the position as Head Archivist, and rightly pissing off both Sasha and Tim on her behalf, Jon felt like he’d been constantly coming down with something. Dizzy and nauseous and unable to eat, he was chronically exhausted and while he’d never slept well at the best of times, it was evading him more than ever.

And there were his mornings. Struggling to motivate himself out of bed, brushing his teeth with his eyes closed and leaning against the wall. Deciding he could forgo a shower just once more and choosing instead to make breakfast. Forcing himself to eat a piece of dry toast with his heart hammering away in his throat and half laying on the table, panting through his tea. Mentally, Jon prepared himself for the walk to the train, automatically going for his cane because lord knew he needed the support.

He’d get to the Institute hours early.

At least that made him look good?

Taking advantage of being a cane user, Jon opted for a reserved seat, the guilt at truly needing one eating away at his insides. But there were black spots at the corners of his vision and he had to sit down before he fell down and the guilt is a far sight better than causing a scene. The trip was too short. His chest ached from the constant pounding and he pressed the hand not holding his cane for dear life against his breastbone. It didn’t help but the pressure and touch grounded him enough to stand up. To head to the cross street. To wait for the lights to change. To stagger down the stairs and into his office, to drop into his desk chair and focus on every breath of air moving into his body and back out of it.

Jon put his head down. There was no one here. Wouldn’t be for a couple hours yet and he was exhausted, shaking from it. Nauseated. There wasn’t a fever. He’d gone as far as to purchase a thermometer to be certain when the strange symptoms refused to abate no matter how often he let himself rest, no matter the meals he tried his damndest to eat, the water he drank down. He was trying. Jon couldn’t remember ever taking such good care of himself and of course it refused to pay off. In Uni, he’d driven himself into the ground with little consequence. He’d maintained those habits until a few months ago and now--

Muffled voices drifted through his door, the rise and fall of easy conversation. The kind he’d once been allowed to partake in. Laughter filled the air and while Jon wished to join them he knew he wasn’t welcome.

Why had he done it?

Why hadn’t he refused Elias?

Because you’re selfish. You’ve always been selfish. Needy. Greedy, grasping, always striving to know answers and never satisfied with what you're given. You take what you don’t deserve.

Reluctantly, Jon stood, slowly, because doing anything quickly these days has him ducking his head between his legs or waking up on the floor without any recollection of how he came to be there. He could at least collect their research in person, greet them. Try to be the boss they deserved.

Sasha was the boss they deserved.

“Ah, g’good morning.”

“Jon!” Martin, smiling shyly. “You’re here so early!” He began to stammer and Jon’s legs began to ache. This wasn’t a good day. They seldom were anymore. “I m’mean, of course y’you are, you work very hard!” Martin was saved by Tim swinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve broken ‘im, boss.” A flush rose in Jon’s cheeks. He could feel it. “No worries, Marto. He’s always been an early riser.” While it was said in jest, the tone settled heavy in Jon’s chest, directly beside the pain blossoming like a thorny rose. Luckily, he was rescued by Rosie, standing halfway down the stairs and informing him that Elias requested him in his office. Jon didn’t relish the climb, no matter how grateful he was to escape out from underneath Sash’s heavy gaze. She had every right and he would bear his punishment in silence until she chose, if she ever did, to forgive him.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Jon limped out of Elias’ office without any recollection of what they’d spoken about or if he’d even spoken at all. Thumping pain and panic and he knew he was rude to ignore Rosie at her desk but he wasn’t in any shape to hold a conversation, fairly certain that he wasn’t able to currently speak, far too focused on trying to hide how ill he was. But every sound was magnified tenfold in his ears and he could barely remember where the door to the archives was with the way his head reeled and spun. Jon wanted to sink to the ground once he had the door between himself and the lobby but he’d never make it to his feet again after that. Push through, he told himself. Get to your desk. He allowed himself a moment, two, just to put his head to rights, to try and breathe through the battering of his pulse.

And oh god he wasn’t going to make it and he wondered if somehow Elias knew. It was as though he’d kept him standing there talking about nothing until Jon hit his limit, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to get back to his office.

But he had to try and he’d almost gotten down the ridiculously narrow stairwell before he forgot nearly entirely why he was there in the first place. Was he going up? Down? Meeting with someone? Just arriving? He could barely breathe and the panic welling in his throat was choking and the black was crawling over his eyes and the dizziness only increased and he needed...needed…

For a moment, Jon didn’t recognize where he was, the migraine, the fuzziness, conspiring against memory and reason. But he knew this color, the hideous lick of paint some contractor had splashed over the walls a lifetime ago.

Breakroom?

Wha--

“Jon!” He winced, his own name like broken glass shredding every sense to ribbons. “Christ, are you alright?” Martin, the sounds he made were shrill, grating, and if he’d been able to tell him to be silent, he would have. “We heard the noise--you’d, you fainted! On the stairs! Luckily it was only the last few.” Jon blinked, dull and dumb, forcing himself up, up, up, and through heavy mist and fog in his search for words. Weary to the marrow of his aching bones, Jon slumped on the cushions and tried to think of a way to stop Martin’s incessant chattering. Tim and Sasha, alerted most likely by all the commotion, stood over him and he craned his neck up to look at them. Tim especially looked furious.

“You could have been seriously hurt!”

“S’sorry…” And he was, between his rabbiting heartbeat, throbbing migraine, and difficulty drawing breath into his exhausted lungs, he wanted to cry with how sorry he was.

“This is ridiculous. You need to take better care of yourself.” Jon wasn’t sure why the sting from Tim’s accusation cut so deep and he hung his head, biting trembling lips to prevent the tears threatening to spring free.

It wasn’t fair.

By all accounts he was taking care of himself. More than ever!

“Did you even eat today? Drink anything?” He nodded, miserable, unwell, and equipped with no better answers than the truth.

“Tim. He’s just come to.” The understanding was the final straw, and Jon’s sight blurred with salt damp. “I’ll make sure he eats something before going back to work.”

“Alright, Martin. If he gives you any trouble, call.” At Jon, he pointed. “And you, no trouble.” And he nodded miserably.

“Okay, they’ve gone.” The familiar sounds of the kettle heating filled the room, the clink of a pair of ceramic mugs, the rustling of the tea bags, Martin’s distracted murmuring, all combined to calm him. “How long have you been feeling this way?” Jon looked up, surprised, and shrugged one shoulder, accepting the small plate of biscuits and nibbling slowly and when he finished those, Martin offered up the tea. Sitting with him in companionable quiet, he sipped on his own cup. Nothing more was exchanged and when Jon finished he thanked Martin for the company and locked himself away.

Jon was at wit’s end. Nothing he tried seemed to improve anything and the few times he did speak with a doctor, he was sent away with the same, useless advice, or worse, told he was imagining things, making it up, having panic attacks even though he was familiar with those and this was not that.

Work was a nightmare made even more miserable with the overwhelming amount of paperwork, statements, boxes, misfiled folders and envelopes and items and Jon missed the easy camaraderie and understanding he’d had with Sasha and Tim. Maybe he should resign, try and salvage what little of the relationship they still had, or, or invite them out for dinner, his treat, but Elias would never let him quit and the very idea of entertaining exhausted him. A cuppa appeared at his elbow filled with something new, something floral and slightly sweet, accompanied, as always, by a few biscuits.

“That’s a lot of work, Jon.” He sipped, grateful, lifting an eyebrow in response.

“I knew it would be when I accepted this position.” Undeterred, Martin stumbled forward.

“Y’yeah, I mean, you would have. Of course. I just--” A breath. “I’ve finished with my other assignments, ready for round, uh. Well, another round!”

“Ah. Alright, I’ll bring something over when I pick up your translations.” Martin took back the cup, nodding enthusiastically, and Jon appreciated that it was business as usual, selecting a few he’d been putting off and making his way toward his assistants ignoring inquiring looks in favor of taking the chair Martin offered up to go over his expectations. Short, succinct. A few notes on one translation, advice to remember for next time, and Jon felt reasonably confident Martin could handle himself. It wasn’t until he’d gotten back to his office that Jon realized that was the first time he’d been offered a chair. It was becoming apparent that Martin was good at noticing the little things about them. A blush heated his cheeks and he tried to rub it away, feeling ridiculous that such a small act of kindness made him feel so seen.

Jon pushed forward, ignoring the warnings his body was trying to give him in favor of plowing through his work like he’d always done, and by the time he made it home, was on the verge of collapse. Hot tears of frustration stung at the corners of his eyes, spilling over when Jon allowed himself to feel it. More than anything, he was used to having control over himself, working when he wanted, burying himself in the research, devouring knowledge. Now he was at the whim of his physical form. Paying more attention to it than ever before and never knowing if he was going to wake up and have a good day or a bad day and it was maddening. Managing whatever it was without knowing what it was, was impossible with no rhyme or reason he could discern.

So in the absence of both, Jon kept shoving his way through how difficult it was because if he could just be normal through pretending everything was normal, then it would be.

Jon knew Tim was cross with him and managed to avoid him for most of the day, taking breaks here and there like he’d promised Martin he would do. But his luck, while it had been holding steady, had just run out and he found himself cornered in the breakroom.

“What do you think you’re on about?” Frustration had long since turned to outrage, boiling over.

“Tim, I. I’m not sure what you mean--”

“Damn it, Jon! You’ve already taken on a job you aren’t fit for! You can’t keep heaping your work onto Martin and then swanning off!”

“That’s.” He balled his hands into fists, nails biting crescent moons into his palms. How could he explain when even the doctors thought he was making it all up? Heat rushed through him, top to toe, flushing his face and he wavered, legs threatening to buckle, vision threatening to go dark. He was going to pass out a second time today if he didn’t sit down. But that would mean walking away from Tim, and he didn’t think the man would let him. At least not until he was done telling him off. Better to be silent. Try not to pay attention to how erratic the persistent beating caged behind fragile ribs had become.

“Why didn’t you say no?” Because he wanted to be useful. Because Elias made him feel like he was capable even if he wasn’t. “Why didn’t you just let Sasha have this?” Because he was an awful, selfish person. “God, Jon. Why did you drag us all down here with you?”

Because he was lonely.

Because they’d been friends. Once.

Rather than remind Tim that he was free to go at any time, that he and Sash hadn’t been forced or coerced into accepting positions here in the archives, Jon pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Well?!” Sharp, strident, Tim’s shout echoed around in the space between his own hurting, agonal breaths in his ears.

“I. I, I need to si’down…” wanted to lay down. Wanted to sleep, trembling with exhaustion, about to go down.

“What?” Lashes fluttering as he gripped the thread of consciousness with both hands, he barely registered Tim’s hands around his shoulders, guiding him into a chair and pushing his head down between his knees. “Jon?”

“M’okay…”

“You are clearly not.” A wide palm settled on his back, keeping him folded over. It was helping.

“S’mm...been. S’fine.” The floor came back into focus, all the little cracks and imperfections and Jon counted the streaks in the pattern in an attempt to ground himself but kept losing track of the number. Neither moved until Jon attempted to sit up, slowly, accepting Tim’s help.

“Jon?” He looked spooked, pale. “Please, what’s going on?” His hand settled in the crux of shoulder and neck, thumb ghosting along his clammy skin, and Jon allowed himself to find a morsel of comfort in the familiar gesture, the threat of tears closer than ever. So he reached for him.

“I don’t know.” And Tim pulled away as if burned, the frustration and anger rising in his face again, and Jon was bereft. “T’truly! I--”

“Why won’t you be honest with me? Don’t you trust me?” Standing, he took a step backwards, away from him, the hurt in him a palpable thing. “We’re supposed to be friends!”

Yes. They were friends. It was most likely why for the first time in a long while, the pain in his chest wasn’t a physical ache.

“Tim, I.” Fingers folded to fists to rest on his knees. But he was already gone.

“Jon!” Tentative, Martin lifted his chin. “Oh, oh.” Having been crying, Jon figured his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and he didn’t bother attempting to hide the evidence. “Alright.” Martin went about making tea, chamomile, herbal and calming, placing it before him on the table with a chocolate digestive. “Drink this down and then go home. It’s half six.”

“Mm.”

“Sleep will help.”

“Mm.”

“I could speak to them for you. If--”

“No!” All but shouted. “No. That won’t be necessary, Martin.” Carefully he stood, paused. “Thank you.” And left.

Jon called off.

Called off again.

Again.

Apologized to Elias in a curt email requesting leave and was granted it.

He ignored his phone. His texts. The knock at the door and Martin’s voice behind it. He slept when he was tired and he was tired often and it was easier besides, to finally listen to the screaming of his body. It was after hours on his fifth day gone when Tim let himself in with the spare key to Jon’s flat.

“Hey.” Sheepish, he held up his hands in surrender, a bag of takeaway from Jon’s favorite place dangling from one. “Martin said you wouldn’t let him in.” Dressed in the most comfortable clothes he had, which were also the shabbiest, Jon glared at him from where he laid on the couch. “I was an arse.” Slowly, he sat up, making Tim wait on purpose, a powerful frown still aimed in his direction.

“You were.” He was aware he looked a mess, greasy hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, but he felt a sight better for the rest he’d gotten.

“Would you accept an apology?” Folding his arms, Jon leaned back into the cushions and fixed his stare at whatever rubbish was on the telly.

“Might do.” Silently, Tim scurried into the tiny kitchen and Jon listened to the familiar sounds of him rooting around for cutlery. It smelled delicious and comforting, a reminder of nights spent together laughing at nothing on this same couch and despite himself, Jon began to relax.

“I’m sorry.”

“Alright.” Tim’s face split in a wide, relieved grin, and he flopped down next to him, planting a loud kiss to his temple before urging him to eat. “Martin sent you here.”

“An angry Marto is not to be trifled with.” Through a mouthful of noodles, Tim chuffed in laughter. “Wouldn’t tell me anything, other than to stop being a prick.”

“He did not.”

“He did not. But it was more than implied!” He put his bowl on the low table in front of them, sitting forward with his hands dangling between his knees. “And he was right. I didn’t give you a fair shake and accused you of awful things. And I know you’re doing your best at this job.”

“Gertrude isn’t making it easy.”

“Neither is your health, I take it.” Jon set his own meal aside, curling into the padded arm.

“No. It isn’t.”

“And you don’t know what’s causing it?”

“I know some things that help. M’Martin has been invaluable.”

“Has he, now?”

“Leave off!”

“Okay, okay.” But he continued giggling as Jon felt his face go hot, muttering.

“He really has.” This time Tim pulled him gently into an embrace.

“Then Sash and I will just have to catch up.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #sasha james #cane user jon sims #archivist with a cane #chronic illness #undiagnosed #pots #fainting #exhaustion #anxiety #hurt/comfort #internalized ableism

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